"Hurry."
They entered another carriage and pushed forward as quickly as they could, given how small their space was.
Gunfire erupted behind them. Desperate screams rang through the metal halls.
A man sprinted for the door ahead. Suddenly, the shot rang out of nowhere. His head jerked back, and then he collapsed mid-step, thudding heavily on the floor, sliding a brief distance before coming to a stop.
Bernadette winced and clutched Stanley's hand tighter.
Stanley didn't break pace. He hauled her toward the next carriage and reached the door. It was unlocked. He kicked the glass just once. And again. The glass barely rattled.
He turned. A drone was coming toward him from the far end of the carriage. The red light was pulsing.
Stanley pushed Bernadette aside, breaking his hold.
She was about to start speaking when she noticed him.
He pressed a finger to his lips. "Shh,"
Bernadette froze, then slapped her hands over her mouth. Stanley pointed down.
She went to her knees without hesitation.
He glanced back at the door. The drone was now hovering around the entrance, scanning the body on the floor. Stanley slowly exhaled and shrugged off his backpack.
He opened the bag and pulled out his tattered T-shirt.
The drone shot into the dead man.
Then it moved forward.
Stanley allowed the bag to fall.
The sound rang out clearly in the carriage. The red light on the drone intensified as it turned left.
Gunfire broke out.
The locked door exploded in seconds. The glass shattered inward, slicing through the air like knives. Bernadette closed her eyes tightly and covered them with shaking hands.
Stanley didn't budge. He just stood, his breathing even, the T-shirt unfurled in his hands. The firing slowed. Then stopped.
It came forward.
The instant it tried to pass through the ruined doorway, Stanley lunged and hurled the shirt at it. The drone wobbled in midflight, its sensors hidden.
Mechanical whine escalated as it tried to restart its firing sequence.
Stanley took hold of the object, turned it. Then he threw it out of the broken window.
The drone smashed into the wall outside, and it immediately started firing, bullets blasting through concrete as it tried to correct itself.
Stanley didn't have time to wonder if it would recover.
He grabbed his bag and left right away.
His body kept low, with his shoulders slumped as he used the seats and mangled furniture as cover. Gunfire broke out again from the left side of the carriage. Bullets ripped through the carriage, with sparks flashing hot enough to feel.
Both of them instinctively ducked.
"We have to keep moving." He spoke to nobody in particular.
Bernadette was right behind him. Too close, but he didn't slow her down.
They pushed through the connecting door and into the last carriage.
There were fewer people here.
Most had already fled. A few knelt near the far end, clinging to the walls. The drones flew between carriages now, in small, disciplined motions.
The chaos had thinned.
Stanley raised his head just enough to see. His eyes caught movement on the right.
A bald man was half-hidden behind a pillar, slumped awkwardly, breathing hard. His clothes were torn. One arm hung stiff at his side. He looked like he'd already lost a fight.
A drone drifted past the pillar. Its red light paused. Then snapped back.
The drone readjusted and started firing.
The man reacted too late to run. He threw his arms in front of his face.
The rounds slammed into him, several bouncing off as if they'd struck metal. Others dug shallow, ugly grooves — but he stayed upright.
Stanley froze.
That shouldn't have happened.
The man snarled and lunged forward, slamming his fist into the drone's side. It knocked it off balance. The drone spun wildly, trying to stabilize and firing erratically as it tilted backward.
The man didn't wait. He spun and ran in the opposite direction, disappearing between pillars without ever looking back.
Stanley froze in place as his mind reeled; he had no defense against the bullets, no wall to hide behind, no reasoning as to why he wasn't riddled with bullets on the ground.
His hand was clenching his bag as if he could hold himself fast to reality.
He peeked at Bernadette. She was gazing down the aisle, panting shallow.
She didn't notice. Stanley had, however.
No human skin could accomplish that. Not without something changing first.
Stanley looked over at the open side of the train.
"Let's go
"I didn't do it," she whispered. But then she realized she couldn't explain what happened because she honestly didn't know what she did.
Stanley knew what he had to do. He closed his eyes to focus his mind and slow his breathing.
He knew what was going through her mind just now, but now was not the time to pause. To remain here would mean things would get worse.
They had to keep moving.
His hands landed gently on her shoulders. "It'll be fine," he said.
"It was the best lie he could offer."
Her shaking subsided a bit. She lifted her head, tears in her eyes, voice barely hanging on. "It's my fault. If I had listened back then. if I hadn't."
The tears dripped down her cheeks.
"It's not your fault," Stanley said. He wiped the tears away without thinking. "You made the decision that was best at the time. You felt it was safer. Anyone would have."
She swallowed hard, breathing irregularly.
"So, don't blame yourself," he continued. "That won't help now."
He offered a poor smile. "You're a princess, aren't you? As far as I know, they never apologize. Never, no matter what."
She looked at him for a second, then nodded slightly. Breathe in. Slowly. Exhaled.
"Get your hands off of me," she mumbled, pushing away his hands.
Stanley smiled to himself and turned towards the door. They alighted from the train together. No drones were in the area. The station seemed empty now, the smell of smoke hanging from the ceiling.
They made their way towards the exit of the tunnel. If Luck might still be with them, they could manage to get out of here.
Stanley was the first to see the stars. A sliver of heaven had gotten caught in a crack in the concrete. This eased a constriction in his chest.
Bernadette lengthened her stride.
He seized her wrist and dragged her sideways, pushing them behind the pillar just in time.
"What now?" she asked, annoyance mingling with fear in her voice.
Stanley turned his head towards the opening in the tunnel.
She followed his gaze. At first, she saw nothing. Then her eyes adjusted, drifting down rather than up.
A faint red glow appeared close to the ground.
Stanley had already been considering his choices.
He adjusted his hold on the bag as his eyes followed the small red light emanating from the bottom of the tunnel.
He then heard footsteps. His eyes locked to the opposite side of the platform.
A man was walking towards the exit. Loose, as if this was just another bad street on another bad night.
That was what was bothering Stanley.
Didn't he see it? Didn't he hear the whine leaking out of the tunnel?
The mechanical sound returned, this time sharper. The red light grew brighter, slicing through the dimmed room like a sword.
The man broke into a run.
The metal pipe in the robot moved effortlessly, rotating softly as a click occurred while the targeting locked into place.
The man did not slow down.
The gun went off. The air split.
A metal object ripped through the tunnel and hit the ground right behind him.
The blast hit the walls. The tunnels shook. Dust poured from the ceiling. The lights above flickered.
Stanley winced in distaste. "That's not right."
His eyes sliced like a scalpel through the fog. He scanned where the man appeared to come from.
Nothing.
Stanley looked towards the opening of the tunnel.
The man was present. Running. Everything in place. Moving as if nothing had ever happened to him.
Stanley stared.
That was no luck, or the fucking perfect timing. He should've been blown to bits.
The red light moved again, as the robot turned to follow the target.
Stanley finally put the first piece on the puzzle.