The Architect Codex

Inferno - The Bitter End

"Rob? Rob!"

McFarlane's eyes lost their focus, staring at something beyond that which Tobias could see. His lips parted slightly, and one final, quiet breath escaped them—then, he fell silent forevermore.

Tobias stared at the body of his friend numbly. Gates watched him quietly from her imprisonment several meters away. "Tobias, I ... I'm so sorry."

"This ... this is m-my fault," he murmured.

"No, you heard what he said—"

"I thought ..." he continued absentmindedly, almost speaking to himself more than her now, "I thought y-you were the spy. I ... I g-got him killed."

He couldn't do much more than lay there, he felt his arms and legs growing weaker by the minute—he was losing too much blood. Soon, he wouldn't be able to move. If he was going to do something, it had to be now.

She shook her head. "This is on Dee's head, not yours! Just sit tight and stay awake, we'll figure something out ..."

Looking down, she rummaged through her belt with her free hand. After a few seconds, her hand emerged triumphantly with two items which she tossed over to him; a first-aid cocktail and med-tape. They landed near his head, only a foot away or so.

Pushing himself away from McFarlane's body, he grabbed both of them and brought them closer. Grunting with every painful movement, he undid the clasps and buckles of his chest-armor until it fell to the floor with a soft whump.

Lifting his undersuit to expose the bullet-hole, he slapped the cocktail, a small, circular device with three sharp prongs, right over the wound. He grimaced as it latched onto his skin and began injecting him with a mix of disinfectant, adrenaline boosters, and pain suppressors. The sharp, stabbing pain of his injury was lessening, now becoming more of a dull, distant throbbing. With it in place, he began using the adhesive gauze to tape over it and stem any additional blood flow. Reaching around behind him, he did the same thing on his back to his best approximation.

The cloudiness of his mind was dissipating as the cocktail did its work, and he found himself with a clear head again. The static had been pushed back for now—but he had to do what he needed to before it returned. Pushing himself up onto his feet, he staggered over to McFarlane's helmet, still on the control console, and grabbed it. He walked over to Gates and knelt down next to her.

"Here. The radio-transmitter should work for you."

Placing the helmet in her lap, he stood back up and stumbled over to his Flatline, retrieving it from the floor and holding it tightly in his hands. Gates, who had expected him to free her, now cocked her head in confusion. "Aren't going to get me out of this thing?"

"You'd just follow me."

With his rifle in hand, he set off down the tunnel. Gates watched him go with panic creeping into her voice. "Wait, where the hell are you going?!" She yanked her chained hand desperately against the pipe, filling the room with the sound of metal banging against metal. "Come back here, damn it!"

He ignored her cries as he left, his back retreating down the tunnel.

"Tobias! Tobias!"

...

KT was beginning to grow worried as the four of them never came out. What could be taking them so long?

She'd been keeping watch on the trenches and the battle still raging in the courtyard. It seemed as though both the Militia and IMC were evenly matched for the time being, but that wouldn't be the case for long if no reinforcements were coming to help—