TOO LATE

As the Mark Four trudged down the street, Harley could see the lights from emergency vehicles flashing behind a barricade that Chief Constable Oxley’s men had built. The curious crowd of spectators was growing. They didn’t understand the danger they were in.

“I’m here,” Harley said through his comlink, but his only response was static. He tapped the speaker in his ear. “Max… Natalia, are you there?”

Harley continued to march. The ground shook with each step he took, catching the attention of constables. With weapons drawn, they turned their attention to the monstrosity of metal that approached.

“What is that thing?” one said.

“I think it’s one of them clockwork killers,” another answered.

“Stop!” a constable shouted. His plasma pistol was quavering in his hand, but to his credit, he stood his ground.

Harley didn’t stop. In fact, he didn’t even bother to slow down.

As the shadow of the Mark Four passed over the constable, he closed his eyes and fired. The blast ricocheted off the armor, leaving a burn mark but nothing more. Harley kept his momentum, and the constable rolled out of the way.

Harley ignored the constables as he broke through the barricade. Shots were fired from somewhere in the dark, and like before, they bounced off the armor and landed in the street. Harley stopped. His searchlights scanned the darkness for his attacker, but he couldn’t see anyone.

More shots were fired. One hit the protective glass that covered the armor’s cockpit, leaving a crack. A clockwork was standing in a window up above with a rifle in its mechanical hands.

Harley stopped the armor, twisting a crank that controlled the cannon on his right shoulder. The cannon moved to the right, but it went too far. He adjusted, bringing it back to his left. Then he leveled the barrel until it was pointed up at the clockwork.

The clockwork blasted three more rounds from its sniper rifle, but Harley’s armor was too thick. He returned fire with a missile shot from the cannon. Harley watched as it screamed through the night before blasting into the wall. Brick was turned to powder as the missile put a hole in the side of the building, knocking the clockwork out of the window.

Someone shouted. The clockwork didn’t make a sound until it struck the pavement, where the metal casing blew open. It released a shower of cogs and gears that bounced before skittering down the street and into the darkness.

Harley turned his attention to the front door and shot a second missile from the cannon. There was an explosion, but when the smoke settled, Harley could see that the only damage was a dent. Two more missiles struck the wall next to the door, puncturing a hole in the building that was big enough for a double-decker bus.

“I’m going in,” Harley said. He waited for a reply from Max, but it didn’t come. “I repeat, I’m going in.” Still nothing. Figuring that he was in some kind of communication dead zone, Harley decided to press forward. Smoke poured from the gash in the wall as Harley guided the armor into the burning building. The machine scraped against brick, creating a shower of sparks as he squeezed through.

The heat from the inferno was intense. Heavy smoke obscured his view, but Harley could still see Barnabas Glover standing on the balcony. He spotted at least two other slavers on the ground, along with another clockwork.

The machine raised an arm that ended in a Gatling gun instead of a hand. The barrel spun as it released a ferocious barrage of bullets that pounded against the Mark Four. Harley fought to keep it from tumbling over as it staggered, but then it hit a wall.

Once the armor regained its footing, Harley charged with hands raised. He brought the mechanical arms down on top of the clockwork, and the machine crumpled.

Across the room he could see Yi burning out of control as the fire around him rose higher. Other changelings were unconscious on the ground. Harley scanned the rest of the room and spotted Ernie trapped under a net. He looked terrified.

“Ernie!”

Ernie was holding some kind of handheld device as he pushed a series of buttons. A moment later, there was a flash. Ernie was gone. The net fell to the ground, empty.

Harley didn’t have time to wonder how Ernie had vanished. Glover fired a grenade that struck the Mark Four in the shoulder. The impact from the explosion tipped the armor off balance. Harley could feel it teeter as he fought for control. A second grenade hit the ground near the Mark Four’s foot, forming a crater.

As the armor fell, Harley reached out to grab a pillar. The wood started to splinter as it threatened to break in half. Harley quickly planted his back foot and felt the machine correct itself. There was another explosion, and the ground shook. Hot ash swirled in the room as the inferno blazed around him. The metal inside the cockpit was hot to the touch, but Harley ignored the pain.

He reached up to crank the winch that controlled the cannon on the armor’s shoulder. Harley aimed at the balcony and fired his last missile. There was an explosion, and the balcony buckled. Plaster fell. The entire balcony followed.

“They have Hale!” Nadya shouted.

Harley turned to see the last slaver disappear down an escape hatch in the floor. There was no way he could follow them inside the armor. Instead, he turned to get the changelings out of the building before it could collapse on them.

“What are you doing?” Nadya said.

“We need to get everyone out of here.”

“They’re going to kill her!” Tears were streaming from Nadya’s eyes.

“This place is surrounded by constables,” Harley said. “They won’t be able to get very far.” He reached down with the Mark Four’s arm to pick up Tejan, who was unconscious. “Come on,” Harley said. “We don’t have much time.”

Harley didn’t bother to duck through the opening. The broad shoulders of the armor tore into the brick, forming a gaping hole. Smoke poured out, wafting into the sky. Harley walked over to lay Tejan next to an ambulance. The Toad brothers were coughing as they ran to the police barrier.

“Where’re the others?” Harley asked.

Todd tried to answer, but he started to cough.

“They’re still inside,” Ross said. Then he started coughing, too.

Harley turned the armor around and headed back into the building, where he found Yi leaning over Denton, shielding him from the flames. Across the floor, Geppetto was dragging an unconscious slaver to safety. His face was covered in ash and streaked by sweat.

There was a cracking sound, followed by another. “The roof is caving in!” Harley shouted.

“I can’t wake him up,” Yi said.

Chunks of plaster fell from the ceiling, bouncing off the armor. Harley knew there was a chance that they wouldn’t make it out. Still, he couldn’t leave Denton to die. He bashed a couch with his arm, sending it flying across the room before stomping over to where Denton lay.

“I’ll get him,” Harley said. “You get out of here.”

Yi hesitated, but he nodded before running out of the building. Nadya was already outside. So were Geppetto and the slaver.

Wood cracked overhead, and more plaster rained down. Debris bounced off the armor’s back as Harley picked Denton up. A beam engulfed in fire fell, punching through the floor. Harley teetered as he tried to sidestep the hole. Denton started to slip, but Harley tightened the machine’s grasp on him. Denton groaned.

Another beam fell, shaking the ground. Harley hesitated, scanning the inferno for any sign of Ernie. Denton started to cough as he was pulled back to consciousness.

“Ernie!” Harley called out.

The only answer was the crack of flames as the fire grew. Then there was a loud snapping sound. Harley looked up just as the ceiling fell. In three long strides he was back outside, a whoosh of flame, ash, and smoke behind him.

When everything settled, Harley was holding Denton in the arms of the Mark Four as a dozen constables leveled guns at them.

“Don’t move!” Chief Constable Oxley shouted.

Harley opened up the hatch and put his hands in the air.

“It’s just a kid,” someone said.

“Look! They’re pointing their guns at a kid!” another called out.

“Lower your weapons,” Oxley said to his men.

“If you want to see my driver’s license,” Harley said, “I don’t have one.”