Saving Ezri - pt. 2

Along the road to the office, we manage to drive up beside a running Ezri. Needless to say, she’s stunned to see us, and is clearly on the verge of losing her mind. Won’t be surprised if she gives me another beating. But she’ll have to deal with it, there’s no turning back. Jasper and I’s decision is made.

We want to save Shiloh – and as a result, we’ll be saving Ezri.

But I have a dilemma.

I want to save Shiloh, but I don’t want to save Ezri. Yet that’s exactly what I’m here to do, as I hop out the car with a gun in my hand. Is this really the only solution?

After a long, deep and irritated sigh, Ezri says, “All you’ve done is make this more difficult. Now I have to focus on protecting all three of you.”

“The other soldiers are on their way…” Jasper says. “And, well, we couldn’t just abandon Shiloh.”

“I have no time to wait. Shiloh— I will be dead at any second. It’s now or never.”

“Then get inside, it’ll be quicker than on foot,” I say, though not without feeling a pit of reluctance. What’s wrong with me? It’s too late for second thoughts, and this is Shiloh on the line.

Soon, the building is right across from us. Again, I stop the car away from the cameras’ view. Already, the adrenaline is pumping through me. Jasper looks incredibly nervous, but he isn’t shaking like a leaf, and he hasn’t relinquished his hold on the gun. He wants to do this, and so do I.

Despite this persistent pang of uncertainty.

“I need you two to realize that if we get caught,” she points to the massive military base, “all the golems in that thing will be after us, and it’d be a hundred times worse than the Boundary. We move fast, shoot any bot, or person, before the golems can be alerted. Got it?”

“Even people?” Jasper says.

Ezri rolls her eyes. “You were about to blow my head off when I was hurting your little girlfriend here, you can do it again.”

To think that Shiloh would ever advocate taking human lives. The difference between them is so great. How can they possibly be the same?

“Shiloh,” he says again. “Before we go, I want to know… Do you still care about us—”

“Yes,” she answers.

On the count of three, we rush out of the car. Aiming for the weak points, Ezri shoots the golems in the tower from a blind spot. Thanks to her efficiency, they’re down in an instant. Times flies quickly, and before I know it, we’re inside the office.

Bolts of metal spurt out from collapsing M-droids as their met with lasers. Using my distant memories to my advantage, I assist Ezri in shooting every bot in the area – though of course, my aim is nowhere near as good as hers. But at least it’s better than Jasper’s, who misses half his targets.

And then, there’s a red splatter. An office worker who had just entered the room at the worst time possible. Ezri shot him in cold blood, only to resume her attack against the bots like it was nothing. I had gotten used to Ezri’s lack of care for life, but now that I know this is Shiloh…

“Stop looking like a deer in headlights, blondie. Keep moving!”

Right. Shiloh needs us.

“Where would they be keeping her?” I ask.

“Something we’re about to find out.”

Another employee has just appeared in the hall, a rather scrawny man. Seeing all the broken M-droids and his dead co-worker, he scrambles to reach his phone, but he’s so panicked that he drops it. Ezri lunges at him, pulling his arms behind his back before shoving him into the nearest wall. With her free hand, she holds a gun to his head.

“Where is Shiloh Wilks?” she asks.

“I-I don’t know—!”

She presses the barrel into his hair. “Don’t think I won’t kill you, old man. I’ll ask you one more time, where is Shiloh Wilks?”

“The basement, the basement! Just please don’t hurt me!”

A laser makes a hole through his head. He hits the floor, a trail of blood seeping onto the ground.

“He told us! Why did you kill him?” Jasper asks, horrified.

“I told you, no witnesses. Not a single person we see leaves this building alive.”

“But—!”

“Jasper,” I say quietly. “Us finding out who she is doesn’t change the fact she’s Ezri. She isn’t the Shiloh we know.”

That Shiloh is trapped downstairs. The real one, who’s our friend. This is Ezri, an unfortunate consequence of the past. It’s best not to get them confused.

We head to the stairwell, where there are two more employees coming from the upper floor. Ezri kills them too, while Jasper and I look away. Yeah, definitely not Shiloh. We rush down the stairs to the basement floor, Ezri even jumping over railings. When we reach it, Ezri immediately opens fire on the bots – and aside from the droids, there’s three golems.

“Blondie, grab a grenade from my pouch, pull the ring then throw it. Hurry,” Ezri says, headshot after headshot.

The golems are starting to morph, their limbs getting longer, hands shifting into weaponry, and a plate moving to reveal the blaster in their chest. Crap, not this again. I stuff my hand into the pouch and get out the rounded weapon. This thing better not blow me to bits. I do as she says and pull the ring, then it starts to smoke.

“Throw it, throw it! Now!” Ezri says.

I quickly chuck the grenade at the golem’s feet, but my precision isn’t the best. When it explodes, it hurts the droids well enough, but only two of the golems are hit. Wasn’t even enough to shut them down. While they restabilize, I dodge an incoming laser from the uninjured one, just barely. It would’ve kept going if Jasper didn’t get a lucky shot at its head, stunning it momentarily. Ezri tries to make an offense, but her gun loses its glow. No more ammunition.

Even worse, their eyes are starting to blink. Always an indication of a bot contacting another source.

“Give me that!” Ezri says, snatching Jasper’s gun, which is larger than my puny one in comparison. She uses it to finally finish them off, the damage from my grenade at least making it easier.

Did we pull it off before the connection was complete? The other golems could be on their way, and even if the other soldiers got here, it still wouldn’t be enough – especially with their dwindling ammo.

But right now, the path before us is clear.

“I’m going to make sure nobody comes down. I’ll call if I see anybody,” Jasper says, running back up the steps before I can stop him. He better be careful; he’s not even armed anymore.

Ezri and I head on, down the dim hallway. Just around the corner, there’s a wide set of doors. Muffled voices are heard behind it. I can’t understand what’s being said, but they belong to both droids and people. Ezri creates the tiniest crack in the door, through which I peak through as well.

It's a meeting room similar in design to the auditorium at HQ, though a lot less lavish. Multiple droids are seated, and the number of humans I can count. Golems are also present, at least ten of them. Not good.

But who do they all surround, restricted to a chair on the stage?

Shiloh.

Ezri slowly shuts back the door, muttering. “All those golems…” She examines the amount of ammo in the gun. Not much. She paces back and forth, trying to come up with a strategy by talking to herself.

The rest of the Liberation would be strong enough to handle the golems in there, but with all those droids, one of them is bound to contact backup before getting shot. Honestly, things aren’t looking bright – but hypothetically, as the result of some grand miracle… If all goes well, Shiloh will be saved.

And so will Ezri. But I don’t want her around, I want Shiloh. Yet it’s not possible to have one without the other.

What does Shiloh want, though? To be a good person and keep us safe. That’s why she turned herself in. She doesn’t side with the IPU, but she also knows that Ezri’s no hero.

Again, I’m uncertain, and I feel like the worst person in the world for it.

“Ezri,” I say.

“Not now. I’m trying to think.”

“What do you want the future to look like?” I ask anyway. “Do you want peace?”

“Yes, blondie, I want peace. Now can you shut up?”

If I’m going to do something this drastic, there better be good things coming out of it. I don’t want to make yet another mistake.

“In twelve years, there’s war and mayhem. Is that what you call ‘peace?’”

She grunts, continuing to pace. “An unfortunate means to get peace. Not ideal, but it’s the way things had to be,” she glowers at me and says, “you’re talking about over a decade from now anyway. Focus on the present.”

“Okay, fine. In the present, you bring trouble and death wherever you go. You act so ‘above’ the IPU, yet to you, people’s lives are secondary. What benefit is there in keeping you?”

“Your friend lives,” she snaps.

“My friend died the moment she became you.”

I once asked myself if I’d ever choose between my loyalties to the IPU or my friendship with Shiloh.

I raise the gun, my finger on the trigger.

And in the end, the answer was neither.