Save Everybody

“He’s here! Alpha level, near the service shaft!” came Neil’s distorted voice through the walkie-talkie. Neil was one of the sharpest guns in SubSec but it was unlikely he could take down the Orange Ghost alone.

Sonia was on Delta, a full minute away from Neil if she sprinted up three levels of stairwell. She could take the service elevator but it was a sluggish thing designed to shift fragile equipment. Someone had mentioned getting a fast elevator installed to relocate security in a time of crisis. Money doesn’t grow on trees, they had been told. At least not until the city-in-progress had been completed.

Gunfire crackled over the walkie-talkie… and then it went dead. That probably went for Neil too. Oh God. That SubSec elevator had been Neil’s idea.

Sonia spotted the service elevator was now on its way down from where Neil was killed. She had a hunch who was inside.

She took up position behind a pillar opposite the elevator, aiming her handgun at the doors. Sweating, she watched the floor indicator. Beta. Gamma. Delta. Ping. The doors opened with a grunt.

There he was. The strange man in his orange exoskeleton covered in alien writing. The bastard who had slowly been killing his way through the other waystations and offices across the globe, searching for the underwater city-in-progress. He looked uncertainly out of the elevator, raising an assault rifle that had seen better days.

Sonia fired three times. Two hit the chest plate of the Orange Ghost’s exoskeleton, but the third found his forehead. He slumped against the wall and slid down. His rifle clattered on the floor.

Sonia ran over to make sure he was dead, just as a small silver display on the Orange Ghost’s left arm flickered. Some text appeared. It looked like QUICK 10 AD? Or maybe LOAD? She leaned down to

Sonia spotted the service elevator was now on its way down from where Neil was killed. She had a hunch who was inside.

She took up position behind a pillar opposite the elevator, aiming her handgun at the doors. Sweating, she watched the floor indicator. Beta. Gamma. Delta. Ping. The doors opened with a grunt.

Bullets erupted from the elevator, smacking into the other side of the pillar. She ducked back. The pillar would keep Sonia safe for now, but she’d have to move. Whoever this guy was, he must have had incredible eyesight and reflexes to have nailed Sonia behind the pillar so fast.

She leapt out from cover, trying to make a speedy retreat into a side-corridor where she could safely call for reinforcements – but the assailant’s rifle loosed another burst of lead and that was the end of her left foot.

Sonia screamed, collapsed to the floor and somehow threw her handgun down the corridor. It was over. Pain, the terrible pain. But she could stop him. She would stop the Orange Ghost, here and now. He wouldn’t escape this time. Not after all the carnage, all the good people he’d murdered. She reached under her jacket with a trembling hand, breathing fast, trying to focus.

The man in the orange exoskeleton stepped towards her with uncertain purpose, the assault rifle held ready to fire. She saw his face for the first time and he was not the special ops brute she had been expecting. He was weedy-looking with an unkempt goatee, wearing a pair of nerdy glasses. How had those glasses survived all the battles before this?

She tapped a code into her Waistcoat of Last Resort. It explod

“He’s here! Alpha level, near the service shaft!” came Neil’s distorted voice through the walkie-talkie. Neil was one of the sharpest guns in SubSec but it was unlikely he could take down the Orange Ghost alone.

Sonia was on Delta, a full minute away from Neil if she sprinted up three levels of stairwell. She could take the service elevator but it was a sluggish thing designed to shift fragile equipment. Someone had mentioned getting a fast elevator installed to relocate security in a time of crisis. Money doesn’t grow on trees, they had been told. At least not until the city-in-progress had been completed.

“Uh, hey, Sonia,” said Neil, not dead. “He… he wants to talk?”

*       *       *

Sonia was squeezed in the front row of the security briefing room, filled to the brim with everybody still alive in SubSec. She scoffed at the Orange Ghost who had just finished telling them his crazy story. “Why should we believe you?”

“Because I took screenshots,” he said. He held up his arm, pressed a few buttons on it. Holographic images spewed out.

Many gasped at the horrors they now beheld. They were looking at pictures of SubSec agents in various death poses. Sonia could only find one of herself – not dead, but minus a foot. It was gross. And also still unbelievable.

“So you can photoshop,” she said. “Big deal, buddy. How do we know–”

Ghost put his arm down and the images washed away. “This is not the first time I’ve tried to talk to you. I’ve learnt a lot of things about your SubSec team. I’m looking for Ari… Ari? Ari? Put your hand up.”

A voice came from the back. “Back here, sir.”

Jesus, this was their would-be murderer, not the boss. Sonia twisted her head around and yelled, “Would you like a cup of coffee, sir? Can I get your a comfy pillow, sir?”

“Right,” the Orange Ghost said, carrying straight on. “Ari, you told me you were still a virgin right before I shot you in the head. And Gina? Gina? Good, there you are – you begged me to let you live because you gave up your baby daughter for adoption when you were 16 and hoped to be reunited with her one day. Neil, you told me about your feelings for Sonia–”

“That’s enough,” said Sonia. “Maybe you’re just very good at googling or something.”

The Ghost was exasperated. “If you kill me, I reload the universe. That’s it. We will keep doing this until I reach your boss. We will keep doing this until I finally figure out how to make you all dead and not me. After that, you will never come back.”

“Why don’t you just do that, then? Kill everybody?”

“Sure, I’ll get there eventually. But it’s very boring, going through the same routine, over and over again. Remembering who goes where, watching what changes when I do something differently. But, frankly, I’m looking for a cheat. We can save everybody. You get to keep your lives. I can get on with the rest of mine.”

Sonia wasn’t convinced, but the momentum in the room was already building. One of the airlock guards stood up. She didn’t recognise him; those guys all looked the same. “So,” he asked, looking uncomfortable. “What should we do now?”

“Take me to Musk,” said the Ghost. “And then we can roll credits.”

*       *       *

Sonia struggled to get to the front of the crowd at the airport. Reporters jostled around Ned Cordes, who until now had been dubbed the “Orange Ghost” by over-excitable social media pundits.

He was finishing up another one of his self-congratulatory speeches. “…took some cunning but that’s how I was able to find my way to Musk’s lair and, single-handedly, stop his nefarious plans to create an undersea city exclusively for the rich.”

One reporter ventured a question: “Why was this undersea city a bad thing?”

“Thank you, everybody! That’s all for now!” Cordes made a move to leave the podium.

She still felt the same hostile contempt for this murderer that she had felt back in the city-in-progress. “Hey, you!” she shouted.

Cordes stopped. He turned towards her with uncertain purpose. The reporters all turned around too.

“Ned, you’re wearing privilege and using it to call yourself a hero. A fancy alien suit that lets you know what’s going to happen. Every time something goes wrong, you’re just gonna reboot the world. Imagine if I was wearing that suit instead of you. You’d never have stopped the city-in-progress.”

She then gave him a slow clap. “Let’s give it up for the suit, everyone. Hail the real hero that put the orange into ghost.”

The reporters found the heckler in their midst interesting. As a cacophony of questions came in, Sonia saw Cordes roll his eyes as if his mom had asked him to tidy his room. He jabbed at his left arm and

Sonia screamed, collapsed to the floor and somehow threw her handgun down the corridor. It was over. Pain, the terrible pain. But she could stop him. She would stop the Orange Ghost, here and now. He wouldn’t escape this time. Not after all the carnage, all the good people he’d murdered. She reached under her jacket with a trembling hand, breathing fast, trying to focus.

The man in the orange exoskeleton stepped towards her and fired again immediately, his bullets corrupting Sonia’s torso. Numbness spilled through her nerves and her vision dimmed. With no heartbeat, death was moments away.

“Fine,” she heard the Orange Ghost say. “Everybody dies.”