Chapter 29

The calm rustle of the artificial breeze found its way onto Anya’s exposed arm. On occasion, the crumbling of stones echoed its fall, splitting into several lesser fragments as it succumbed to the unwavering will of gravity. The air was somehow serene, despite the frantic scuffle that befell this ancient complex mere seconds ago.

Anya wiggled her fingers, then bent her arm, for that was the only part of her that could move. Emma was heavy, the alloy plating jabbed deep into the child’s chest while circulation in her other arm was nearly cut off.

Oomph! The girl grunted as she steadily pushed the woman off of her.

Thud.

Gasp! Finally freeing herself, she took a deep breath.

Gak-cough-awk! The dusty air was filled with impurities, irritating her throat and lungs, forcing her to choke it all back out.

Her hand, Anya noticed, was wet. A sticky liquid painted her fingers red.

“EMMA!” The child quickly rushed to the injured woman and tugged on her arms. “Are you okay?! Emma?! Please answer me! PLEASE!”

“…” The woman did not respond. In desperation, Anya grabbed onto Emma’s shoulders and shook her violently.

“EMMA, WAKE UP! EMMA?! EMMAAAA!”

CHOP.

“Oww!” Anya fell back and began to rub the newly formed bump on her forehead.

Emma slowly sat up with slight expressions of pain, then she massaged the side of her head.

“What… what is wrong with you..?” Emma voiced with a scowl.

“Y-You’re bleeding! I-I thought…”

The woman spotted the small puddle of blood on the ground, she glanced at her arm which was drenched in the fluid. After removing her cloak, Emma sliced off the fabric around her wound with a knife.

“Doesn’t look like it struck an artery.” She was grateful that the armor had done its job, for it deflected the bullet’s trajectory just enough that the round nicked off a small piece of flesh rather than blowing off her entire arm.

“How can you tell?” The child questioned.

“Well, I’m not dead yet.” The woman pulled out her green satchel and tossed it at the girl. “Anya, pull everything out of the first aid kit.”

The child did as she was instructed, placing each of the satchel’s contents onto the ground.

“I need you to pour the alcohol over my wound and wipe it clean with the cotton balls. Can you do that for me?”

Anya nodded and approached her arm with the bottle.

“Wait!” The woman interrupted. “Before you do, do you have anything I can bite on?”

“Bite on…?” Anya asked. “What about your gun?”

“I would rather keep my teeth intact, if possible.”

The girl thought for a moment before an idea surfaced. Hastily, she reached for her satchel and pulled out the strange device that she had found earlier.

“This is pretty soft, I think,” Anya alleged as she inspected the contraption. “So, it should be easier on your teeth.” The girl’s eyes then shifted to Emma.

“Emma?” She uttered.

“…” The woman was speechless, her eyes widened in disbelief. “A-Anya…?” Emma muttered with a flustered voice as her face turned red.

“Yes?”

“W-Where did you find that?”

“...” There was a small pause as the child did not understand the woman’s peculiar reaction.

“In a bag, back at the hospital?”

“D-Do you know what t-that is?!” Emma’s voice stuttered as she became increasingly unsettled.

“No…?” Anya answered, her head tilted slightly off to the side in confusion. The entire exchange was bizarre as she had never seen Emma react like that to anything.

Sigh. The woman casted her hand over her eyes, dipping her head in shame. “Just… wipe it down with the alcohol first and hand it to me…”

Although perplexed as to why the woman acted so strangely, the child still did as she was told.

“Here you go.”

Emma retrieved the object and grudgingly nestled it in between her teeth.

“Are you ready?” The child asked with the bottle of alcohol in her hand. Upon receiving confirmation, she slowly poured the chemical into the woman’s wound.

GERRRRRAAA! Anya ceased the instant she heard Emma’s pain-filled cry. She knew it would be painful, but never imagined that it would produce that much agony.

“Keep… going…!” Emma mumbled, her veins protruded from her skin. Though she tried with all her might, the woman could not keep her arm from trembling restlessly.

“O-Okay…” Anya continued, searing Emma’s wound with alcohol for a few seconds longer before attempting to wipe away the impurities.

CRACK. The object buckled to the force of Emma’s jaw and snapped internally.

“Will it leave a scar?” Anya questioned.

“I… would be… surprised… if it… doesn’t…” The intense pain plagued Emma’s speech with constant panting. “Put… the cloth pads… over it… and… bandage it…”

Nodding in agreement, Anya cautiously tended to the wound, careful not to cause any avoidable pain as she bandaged Emma’s arm. Over time, the woman’s breathing stabilized and her shaking ceased.

“Is it too tight?”

Emma spat out the contraption and inspected her plaster. “No… you’re doing fine. As long as it’ll hold in a fight, I should be fine.”

The child picked up the device only to find that it was limp and no longer vibrated. “You broke it.” She declared with a frown.

“It's probably better that way.”

Tszzzz. A sudden static noise arose from her radio.

“Are you still there, tovarishch?” The radio hissed and the woman immediately responded.

“You’re still alive…?! Where are you right now?”

“I am moving forward to building.”

“There better be a good reason we risked our lives to get here.”

“This place has good weapons. Make battle easier, no?” The man began to chuckle in between his audible panting.“I get fuel for vehicle. You search building. Good? Good. I go now, good hunting.”

“Wait!” Emma screamed, but it was too late and the transmission was cut. “Damn it, what’s the point of a two-way radio if he won’t even listen?” Sigh. “Anya, let’s pack it up and see what we can find.” Emma holstered her belongings then stood up. “Can’t believe that guy is still alive.”

“I can’t believe we’re still alive.” After standing up, the child patted the dust off of herself. “What did he mean by good weapons?”

“We’re going to have to look around and see.” Emma surveyed her surroundings and noticed a peculiar discrepancy. “It doesn’t seem like anything’s been here for ages, not even the machines…”

“What makes you say that?” The girl questioned as she inspected the various litter scattered around the floor.

“Look around us, it’s just like the back alley.” She retrieved a small casting from the ground. “It seems that there was a battle here…”

Besides the spent bullet shells, there were also unfamiliar cartridges and weapons: their unusual designs emphasized by their shortened, rectangular barrels. The woman knew these were not just ordinary guns. Her mind brimming with curiosity, she picked up the nearest one and examined it.

“I’ve never seen a gun like that before.” Anya’s eyes gaped opened as they swept across the bizarre weapon. “Does it still work?”

While tinkering with the weapon, Emma was able to find the release for the weapon’s clip. Many aspects of the device was still a mystery, but at the very least it handled like any submachine gun. The ammo cartridge itself was separated into two compartments: at the front were small bullet-shaped pellets organized neatly atop each other, while a battery-like object occupied the back.

The woman loaded the clip back into the strange rifle and attempted to fire.

Click.

“Is it broken?” Anya had hoped the weapon would be useful in their future confrontations, but that sadly was not the case.

“It’s unfortunate, but we’ll have to keep looking. Come on, Anya.” Glancing at the child, she found the object she had bitten to be still in the girl’s hand.

“Anya!” She yelled.

“W-What?”

“Get rid of it!”

Shortly after, the two journeyed further into the facility.

***

A thick layer of dust covered the shelves, stands, and waxed wooden floors. The slightest of vibrations caused by footsteps blew the tiny contaminants into the already thickened air. Various glass displays, organized row after row, staffed the room. Some were shattered and its contents damaged or stolen while others still held its flawless stature.

“What happened here?” The child enquired.

Amongst the debris were out of place devices and long decayed bodies adorned in foreign uniforms or clothing. In their hands were weapons no different from the ones found before. The contrast in attire suggested that not all of the deceased were combatants.

“A massacre.” The woman responded. Amid the countless carcasses scattered around the area, many were of the machines, but even more were not. With a brief glance, Emma could see that the skeletons had cracked skulls and broken bones, shattered by brute force.

“Alright, Anya, keep an eye out for anything that could be of use.”

“Y-Yes!” The child ran across the room, searching through the rubble and determining the usage of the items she had found. She went to the skeletons first since she was sure that they would not be of threat to her. Touching a corpse was never pleasant, but dried bones proved to be her most charming encounter so far. Anya patted the torso, then she checked the lower body. In the pockets, Anya found a wallet. Her father had one similar, except instead of leather, her father’s was made of stitched cloth. And instead of a wallet, it was a pouch. Inside was a variety of plastic cards arranged snuggly in their own personal compartment. The girl pulled one out and pondered upon its usage but gave up quickly as she could not think of any that seemed practical.

Maybe they were used as money? She thought as her father had kept most of what little currency they possessed in his wallet.

But how do they know the value of each card? They all held a different design.

While she rumbled through the wallet, a palm-sized photo slipped out. On it was a woman who sat on a small bed holding a newborn in her arms. Instinctively, the girl flipped the photo over.

‘We’ll be waiting!’ was written on the back in red ink.

The child bit her lower lip as an undesired feeling festered within her. Anya stuffed the contents back into the wallet before returning it to the deceased man’s pocket.

“Sorry…” She whispered then went on her way.

…

PPPZZZzzzzzzz

“What’s that?” Anya asked as she approached Emma, who fumbled with some bulky device.

“It seems like a ham radio.” Emma twisted a few knobs and pressed a few buttons.

“Do… you know what you’re doing?”

“Do you not trust me, Anya?”

“Well…” The child paused. “You don’t seem like it…”

“Point taken, but it still works, so I might as well try. Right?”

The girl watched as Emma continued to tinker with the device to no avail.

“Have you tried that button?” Anya pointed at a button located near the lower left corner.

“Which one?”

“The red one.” Anya moved her finger closer.

“Anya, you can’t just press red-”

Press.

Slowly, Emma’s head turned and she glared at the girl who stood completely still.

“S-Sorry!” Anya began to panic. “I-I just-”

“Broadcasting recorded message.” A woman’s monotone voice emanated from the ham radio, which was then instantly replaced by a tired man’s voice.

“This is a prerecorded message. This is Captain Yorston of the Sixteenth Security Detachment. To anyone still out there, stay away from the museum! Our perimeter has been breached and we are retreating to the City Hall. Our Sentinels were compromised and we are running out of supplies. If you can’t make it to the City Hall, seek shelter in a nearby building until further notice.”

“Sir!” A different voice appeared.

“Dammit, can’t you see I’m making a recording?”

“Sir, we are running out of time. We have to move now!”

“What about the Sentinels?”

“We’ve gained temporary access to Unit 340, 342, and 345.”

“What about 341?!”

“We’re locked out.”

“Ah hell, order the other units to take it out for us.”

“S-Sir! We can’t, the FOF protocols were scrambled. Either we shut it down or they’ll shoot at us.”

“Get me-” The woman’s voice suddenly returned. “End of recording. Replaying message.”

Emma pressed the red button again, switching the device off.

“These are the Ancients’ machines… right? So, was the man on the radio one of the Ancients?” For as far as she could remember, Anya had thought of the Ancients as gods. Those whose generosity allowed humanity to continue their fight for survival in a world they could barely call their own. Yet, the voices sounded human: the tired voice of a man who had seen too much, the slight trembles of a man attempting to mask his fears. “Why did their machines turn against them?”

“I don’t know, but that doesn’t matter right now.” The woman approached one of the glass displays and smashed it open. “We need to find a way out of here. Anya, check the other displays, but stay close to me in case some of the machines make their way inside.”

Reminded of the situation they were currently in, the child proceeded to the opposite side of the room. Many of the artifacts did not seem like they would provide much usefulness, therefore Anya ignored the majority of them. As she walked past display after display, one caught her interest: a small green sphere with a copper cap attached to it, which strangely resembled the descriptions of a fruited sweet her journal once described.

“M67 Hand Grenade,” Anya read the display tag, but she could not figure out what it actually was. All the description listed was the time frame of its usage and that it was a weapon. She searched nearby for an object she could break the casing open with, then with all her might, she cracked the glass and made a hole just large enough to extract the object. The girl picked up the ‘hand grenade’ by the pin and inspected it thoroughly.

“Hey, Emma!” She yelled. “Do you think this will be useful?”

Plick. Thump.

Having heard an oddly familiar sound, Emma turned around.

“ANYA!” The woman screamed as she made a mad dash for the grenade. Anya remained in place, confused as to what was going on. As soon as she was able, Emma grabbed the grenade and threw it as far as she could before pushing the child to the ground, sheltering her from what was to come.

“...”

Nothing occurred.

The woman let out a relieved sigh. “It was just a dud.”

Ignorant of the danger she was in, the child questioned the woman who had pushed her down. “Emma, what are you doing?”

Emma’s attention now focused on the bewildered child.

“Anya, do you know what that was?”

“Umm… A ‘hand grenade’…?”

“Do you know what a hand grenade does?”

“You threw it, so… ?”

“A hand grenade explodes.”

“It does!?” The girl immediately covered her ears and braced.

“...”

“When is it going to happen?” The child asked as she slowly removed her palms from her ears.

Emma simply glared at the little girl.

“Anya, words cannot describe how I feel right now.”

“Zdrastvooyte tovarishch, did I interrupt something?” The intruding man spoke as he spotted the two who laid huddled together on the floor. Anya and Emma’s attention deviated to the stranger. The man wore a brown overcoat with a headpiece that Anya had never seen before. He held a jerry can in each hand while a rifle was strapped on his back.

Hastily, the two got up. The child dusted herself while the woman promptly approached the man.

“You, I remember you from the mercenary group. Why are you here?”

“I save you now, you pay me more later. Good deal, no?”

“Where is everyone else?”

“Ah, the trusy. They hid in building, afraid to fight.”

“They didn’t come?” Emma crossed her arms and furrowed her brow. “Then, how did you get here?”

“I take vehicle, they were not using it, no?” The man gently placed the two containers onto the ground. “Walking takes too much time.”

“Please tell me you brought it with you.”

“Can’t, it is broken. But much more around us, no?”

While the other two had their discussion, Anya wandered off. She thought that if the grenade was to explode, it should've done so by now. Still, the girl trod carefully when she trespassed into the adjacent room. After passing through the large door frame that divided the rooms, she sighted the explosive sitting idly in the corner. Her attention was then quickly shifted to the centerpiece of the chamber. Surrounded by stanchions, an entity was hidden underneath a large piece of sturdy, gray cloth.

“Emma?” She shouted but received no answer.

The child cautiously moved closer until she was just an arm's length away. She grabbed on to the corner of the fabric and pulled, watching as the rest of the covering slid off.

Cough-cough-cough.

All the accumulated dust had aviated into the surrounding air, creating a dense cloud, brimming with impurities.

“Emma?!” Cough-cough. Anya called out again and this time the woman answered.

“What is it, Anya?!” Emma dashed swiftly into the room with the stranger following closely behind. Cough-cough. “What happened in-”

Like Anya, they, too, were stunned when they saw what the girl had discovered. In its presence, their bodies froze solid as their eyes widened with amazement.

Amidst their moment of awe, Anya was the first to speak.

“Will… will this be useful…?”