Chapter thirty-three:

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Every gun clicked in unison, primed, and ready to fire. The bullets, she knew, would no doubt be deadly at such close range.

But her body reacted almost before her thoughts had caught up to the situation.

She raced forward and threw a wild punch at the first thing she came across, which happened to be the metal helmet of the closest enemy.

Her fist struck so hard and so fast that it actually knocked the guy out. The price, however, was some badly bloodied knuckles. It stung, but the adrenaline that was starting to race through her veins was dulling it to something she could easily ignore as she looked around for her next opponent.

In all of her previous fights with the metal men, she'd been anything but prepared. This time, though, she was more ready than she had ever been.

She teleported this way and that, kicking and punching where she could and dodging where she couldn't. Out of the corner of her eye, she could just make out a streak of black, and she knew that Johnny was fighting as a dragon—a huge advantage for them, despite how outnumbered they were.

Although the guards had more numbers, a good half of them seemed disoriented and not very skilled at combat in the first place.

Thanks to the nicely distracting elephant in the room—or dragon in the hall, in this case—she was able to get through most of her fights relatively unscathed.

She kicked another guard in the back of the knee, causing his leg to buckle. He flailed pitifully as he fell, flinging his gun away from him in a rather useful accident.

She dove forward and snatched up the weapon before she could recover enough to do so first. She didn't know how to work the firearm, but she did know that guns usually fired when you pulled the trigger. So she did.

A blast of electricity exploded from the nose of the gun. The crackling energy latched on to the guard's metal armor immediately. She couldn't help but think that metal clothing had been a poor choice to pair with electricity guns as she watched the poor guy vibrate with the force of it.

Clarity was glad that she hadn't been shot with it. The guard looked like he was having a seizure.

And although it looked unbearably painful, it was more effective and not to mention quicker. She began to use the gun to clear up the remaining guards so that they could get on with their escape.

With the new weapon, her job was made much easier.

Soon enough, and with a great deal of help from Johnny, every guard was unconscious. Several were still twitching as the last of the electricity raced through their bodies.

Johnny stood up, shrinking into a human as he rose. It looked like an illusion, or just bad CGI on a really old movie. And it was as fast as it was strange. One second he was a huge beast, the next he just wasn't.

He had a cut on his forehead that was dripping blood all the way down to his mouth, and his shoulder was bleeding, but he seemed unusually chipper. His eyes locked on hers for a brief moment, and a smile bloomed over his lips.

He turned to the still-closed door, and within minutes, the little device beeped loudly two times. The door, now unlocked, flew open all on its own, spewing out gallons upon gallons of pent-up water. The tide almost knocked her off her feet.

"Let's go." Johnny began to pick his way around the sluggishly drifting guards around his feet.

As he got closer, she noticed that his hands were bright red. Her first thought was that he'd gotten them bloody by hurting someone, but none of the guards she'd seen had been bleeding much at all, which lead her to realize that he was cut—and not just paper cuts—all over both hands.

"Did that happen in the fight?" She blurted out, her eyebrows crashing down when she realized just how much he was bleeding. Perhaps it hadn't been such a great idea to let him be a distraction for her.

"No. it happened when I broke through the ceiling. But it doesn't matter, I'm fine." He brushed off her worry. "Let's go."

They were clear of the battlefield now, so they had a clear stretch of hall in front of them, which was quickly filling with a torrent of rushing water. Johnny took off running and Clarity ran after him.

In the absence of a task or life-threatening situation to occupy her, she wondered for the first time how the others were doing. Hopefully, they'd had as much success as her.

Her mind strayed further, and she suddenly remembered her little tangent of thought from back in the cell. The metal devices from Johnny's legs, back in the Organization headquarters.

"Johnny?" she asked breathily, struggling to fill her lungs as they ran.

"Yeah?" Johnny replied, slowing a bit and looking back at her.

"Where did the metal from your legs go?" she asked, hoping he would understand what she was referring to.

"Nowhere." Johnny slowed to a walk, and Clarity followed suit. He pulled one of his pants legs up to reveal the same metal braces from before. They whirred faintly when he walked, and she wondered why she hadn't noticed it before. A few parts—mostly on the joints—spun with each step he took.

"What are they for?" she asked, pulling in a huge breath and releasing it slowly in an attempt to slow her racing heart down a bit. There had to be a reason, after all, when Clara offered to remove them, he'd said no. her throat tightened at the recollection of Clara.

"I can't walk without them," he said simply as if replying to small talk about something as trivial as the weather. "Now, we really should hurry." He added with a small smile, letting his pants fall into place before quickening his stride once more.

In front of them, cells stretched away in either direction; behind them, water was rushing through the generator room door to floor the rest of the building.

Clarity suddenly remembered Xenia, and the sudden, intruding thought almost made her trip.

"Johnny, wait." She halted, the thin layer of water at her feet spraying into the air.

Johnny stopped too, turning to face her.

"What is it?" he asked, his expression darkening when he caught sight of her face.

"Xenia." She said. "I haven't seen her since we went into the generator room."

Johnny's brows furrowed in a frown but he didn't say anything. After a second, he continued walking.

"What about Xenia?" she asked, jogging to catch up.

"She'll be fine." Johnny's words came quite far from a sufficient explanation.

She was doubtful, but she kept her mouth shut. He seemed sure enough. A few long minutes passed where neither of them said anything.

Suddenly, a loud noise reverberated through the hall—a sound sickeningly similar to a gunshot. She felt a rush of air as something whistled past her—within millimeters of her shoulder—before it hit Johnny square in the back.


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