The Silent Movie

I kick the heel of my boot into the hinges. The sheet metal gives way. The hospital triage courtyard opens up under a sticky drizzle. Thirty barrels are pointed at our exit. The gray helmets of KARTIKEYA.X wait for two prey ready to beg.

My throat is a dry crater. The payment has been collected.

UZUME.AKARI's voice slips into my vertebrae. She demands a genre shift. I raise my fist. I strike the wall-mounted security box of the gate.

The riot floodlights derail. The light stutters. Black, white, black, white. A stroboscope chops the space. The silent movie begins.

A guard shoots. I duck by bending my knees up to my chin, an exaggerated, grotesque bow. The ammunition shatters the brick. Black. I sweep the shooter's legs. White. I snatch three smoke grenades hooked to his vest.

I juggle.

One, two, three. The cylinders twirl in the blinking beam. I mime clumsiness, shoot a falsely panicked look toward the reinforcements. I rip the pins out with a flick of my thumb. I scatter the tubes between their boots. A peppery smoke swallows their bearings. They cough, firing bursts into the fog.

I grab Jade. I guide her through this no man's land. We reach the perimeter wall. I give her a leg up, she climbs, I clear the crest in her wake.

We land in the rubble of the alley. She stands up, smeared with soot. Her breath is short. She grabs my right hand with both of hers.

I stare at our tangled fingers. I wait for the warmth of her palm. I wait for the sweat, the thrill of living flesh.

Nothing.

The Incoherence has just cashed the rest of the bill. Her skin against mine has the texture of freezing concrete. Dead matter. I see her smile. The void answers me. If the spectacle confiscates my own body piece by piece, what will be left to throw into the balance tomorrow to buy the next act?