by Andy Graham
Stella grit her teeth, whispered something to the trembling Lynn, and followed Ray.
Loose stones dislodged by their passing dropped into the grimy stream. An old sewer boat sat low in the choppy water. The dull bunker lights that lined the walls split their reflections into angular, nervous pieces.
“Focus,” he muttered. “You’re a Riverman. You were wet for a lot of your training. The water should make you feel at home.”
Something thick and furry and the size of a small dog scuttled out of a hole in the wall, blocking their path.
“Again? That’s the third since we left the cells.” Ray grabbed a stone off the floor and hurled it at the creature. It slammed into the slimy fur and slid off. The rat, all teeth, claws and scarlet eyes, stood its ground and hissed at them. A hiss that was answered from behind Ray by claws clattering on stone
“Screw this.” He switched his rifle for Lynn’s revolver. “Cover your ears.”
The retort flared along the brick tunnel. The rat’s limp body was swallowed by the water without a sound. Screeching and scraping, the pack behind them disappeared.
“They’ll be back. Move.”
Three chain lengths later the remains of a boat were splintered over an old winch. The stream disappeared into a scum-covered culvert. The four people stumbled into a tight oblong chamber.
Ray rested Dan up against a wall. The pains in Ray’s back, thigh and ankle were so bad he felt like someone was slowly ripping his leg off.
“You got any pain meds on you?” he asked Stella, the words coming in time with the throbbing in the bullet wound in his thigh.
“I’m a doctor, not a drug store.”
“I’m a legionnaire, I got bullets on me.”
“Then use one of them, former Captain Pedant.”
Lynn extricated herself from Stella. “Go. To your husband. I’m fine. Thank you for your help.”
Stella flashed a worried smile at her and hurried over to Dan.
Lynn’s knuckles were tight on the rifle, her face a deathly pallor. She cleared her throat. “Sorry about before, Ray. I—”
“Don’t be. You took a life to save a life. Think of it like that. Deal with it later.”
“How are you? I mean. Rose . . .”
His throat clenched up. His vision started swimming. “Later, Lynn. Please.”
“OK.” She armed the tears off her face, smudging the damp grey soot and dust across her skin. “Thank you for getting me out of there.”
“Why didn’t you stick to the plan?” he asked. “You were supposed to draw them out into the open, no more.”
“I was trying to get Stella and Dan out without any shooting. Too much noise. Too much death. When that guy started asking me questions, I thought I was halfway home.”
“How did you know the answers?”
A faint smile crossed Lynn’s face, a smile that held echoes of the jukebox, beer spills and laughter. “Legionnaires like to drink. When they drink, they talk. When they talk, they complain. When they complain, they complain about money. I have a good memory and I’m interested in people. That helps with business. That almost helped us back there, till Stella recognised me.” Her voice faltered.
Stella joined them. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“How’s Dan? Can he walk?” Ray asked.
Dan Swann was sitting in a heap on the floor, banging the back of his head against the rough brick wall, hugging himself so hard his fingers were white. He opened his eyes a crack at the sound of his name. Violent purple flashed out at them. He whimpered and screwed them shut.
“That’s a no, then.”
Stella winced. Ray smiled, trying to take the sting out of the words.
“Which way now?” Lynn asked.
A brick arched entrance opened up to a tunnel on each wall of the oblong. Stella, her forehead creased, stood in front of each of the identical tunnels in turn, her finger raised.
“What are you doing?” Ray called.
A faint squeal echoed down the corridor they’d come from.
Ray: “We got to go.”
Lynn: “Which way?”
Stella: “‘Somewhere’?” Her grin looked forced.
A shout and tramp of boots filtered through a second tunnel.
“Unsung. They’ve found us.” Lynn’s face paled under the dust. “Which way?”
The tracking device was still blank. Ray stared at the two silent tunnels. One left. One right.
Just like in Substation Two. More choices. Too many choices.
“This way.”
Ray and Lynn stared at Stella.
“This way,” she repeated. She pointed to her raised finger. “We did a field trip once to a park. They showed us how to detect wind direction by licking your finger.”
“You’re a genius.” Ray did the same. “It’s faint, but there’s a draft.”
“Hey! I’ve found them.” The shout exploded from a tunnel. It was answered by hollers and a stamp of boots.
“Unsung.”
A legionnaire burst into the room. Ray drew, pivoted and fired. The Unsung’s challenge died on his lips. He clawed at a missing eye socket and collapsed, leaving a dark streak on the bricks. Ray scooped Dan up and slung him over his shoulder. The pain in his body howled at him.
Shut it. You’re a legionnaire. This is what you do.
Stella was already in the tunnel. “Hurry.”
“Move, Lynn,” he yelled.
Lynn didn’t move.
“Lynn!”
She stood still, an island of forced calm being battered by the elements. “Listen to me, Ray,” she said, each word clear and concise. “I told Martinez to get in touch with the Resistance. He should have let the chopper pilot know I was coming here. He’s to wait at the extraction point for as long as he can.”
Ray replayed the words in his head, sifting through them for a meaning he preferred. There wasn’t one. “You’re not coming.”
Lynn’s eyes glistened. Her hands were tight on the rifle. “We can’t outrun them. If no one holds them up here, we’re finished. They’re too close. They’ll shoot us in the back. Only you can carry Dan. You know this. I’ll buy you time. Get them out.”
He opened his mouth to protest. The words didn’t come.
“You know I’m right, Ray.”
“You’re a manager of a bar, not a soldier.”
“I’m a person. We all have a responsibility to each other. If we all devolve decency and the care for others to someone else, humanity will fail.”
Ray knew the look she gave him. It had been the look on Aalok’s face shortly before he had died in Substation Two. A look that was entirely lucid.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Three reasons.”
“Aiden, Milly and Zack.”
She smiled, blinking back tears. “Not this time. You, Dan and Stella. I die or we die. And I don’t want Dan and Stella to have their own reasons for revenge. I want them to have a chance to see their kids again.”
“I don’t like this.”
Lynn took a deep breath. “I like it even less, Ray, trust me.”
Stella had stopped in the corridor. She was creeping back towards them, worry wrapping her face.
“Quick,” Lynn said.
“You know how to use that?” he nodded at the rifle.
“Kind of.”
“Like the revolver you’ve got a safety and a trigger.” He pointed. “That’s the fire selector—”
“I get it.”
“Point the hole at them.”
“I worked that out already,” she said softly.
The chittering of the rats had reached a fever pitch. The stamp of feet and curses was louder. Ray held out his hand. Lynn gripped him high on the forearm and pulled him close. He staggered under the weight of Dan. “You’re a good kid, Ray Franklin,” she whispered into his ear. “You’ll be a great father.” She gave him a peck on the cheek. “You’re kind of cute, too. Now run.”
>
Ray stumbled into the corridor towards Stella. His back buckled under the weight of her husband across his shoulders. Ray caught himself on the wall and glanced back.
Lynn had framed herself in the opposite corridor. The Unsung’s shouts and threats were getting louder, viler. She raised the rifle clumsily. It took her a couple of seconds to find the safety. The first shot knocked her off her feet. Dazed, she scrabbled up. The echoes died and were replaced by silence. The screaming of the rats and the curses of the men were back within seconds, frenzied and hungry and desperate and angry. Lynn braced herself better for her second shot. It was answered by a shot coming the other way. It tore a hole in Lynn’s shoulder. Teeth gritted, she sank to one knee, fumbled with the rifle, and flicked the fire selector.
“This is for my children, you bastards.”
As the rapid fire of Lynn’s bullets rattled into the Unsung, Ray turned and ran after Stella.
50
The Stone Bridge
Ray set Dan down against the Stone Bridge. Stella’s husband, mercifully, seemed to have passed out on their mad, bruising rush out of the Bridged Quarter. Stella rushed over to him, wrapping her coat around his shoulders.
“How is he?” Ray asked.
“He needs a doctor. You?”
“Fine.” Ray sank down next to her before his legs collapsed and gave his lie away. They were shaking uncontrollably.
Behind the group of people, north of the Stone Bridge was Tye. Its brooding, broken skyline was punctured by streams of smoke and flames. The Clock Tower over the Ward loomed high through the smog. Across the ancient Stone Bridge, watched over by statues of kings and queens of old — wise, capricious, just, fickle, tolerant, vain — was Effrea. The winking blanket of lights that shrouded the city was missing tonight. Effrea was holding its breath, watching its older sister failing across the river.
Ray closed his eyes, fighting to stop the pain and fatigue pushing him into unconsciousness.
He felt hands on his chin. His eyes were pushed open. Stella was studying him. “Tell me the truth. How do you feel?”
I feel nothing.
“Guess.”
Her head dropped. “How do you deal with this? A debt you can never pay back. Lynn owed us nothing, and she did that?”
“You keep going. That’s what you do. Keep going.”
“And Rose?”
“Let me learn to say it first.” She’s dead. He could barely think it.
The constellation of the Jester glowed, lit crimson and orange by the fires of Tye. A building in the Bridged Quarter groaned. Flames twisted around walls, snaked through windows and wrenched the bricks to the ground in a tumbling inferno like the one that had claimed—
Hamid. Lenka. Aalok. James. Rhys. Dylan. Seren. Sebb. Kayle. Karil. Rose. Lynn.
“We need to get out of here.”
A barrage of fireworks exploded over Effrea. They turned the night sky red. Scored the swirling clouds with lightning. Ray squinted. He heard the crunch of feet, fumbled for his revolver. A lopsided silhouette pointed a rifle at them. “Who are you?” the figure shouted.
“Ray Franklin.”
“Prove it.”
“I’m the grandson of Tear’s rotten egg, the bitter old man who scares the kids.”
The figure limped out of the shadows. Stella helped Ray to his feet.
“Rose is dead.”
Stann didn’t react.
“I said—”
“I heard you, son. How?”
Ray explained, starting with Seth, finishing with Lynn. As he spoke, the dull thud of helicopter blades grew louder.
The hollows in Stann’s cheeks deepened. “Rose Franklin is dead,” he said softly. “Now what?”
Stella was cradling her husband, shielding him against the stones whipped up by the rotor wash.
Ray pointed. “Dan needs help.”
“Then?”
“I could do with a bath.”
“Cut the crap, son. You smell like a man at last. What then?”
“Two things: One, we go find your great-grandchild.”
A cautious smile crept across Stann’s face. “You’re going to be a father?”
“You’re going to be a great-grandfather. We’ll have to find an easier title, though. That’s a mouthful.”
“‘Sir’ will do.” Stann’s wispy grey hair was being pulled every which way by the wind.
The chopper was landing. Sirens sounded from the city. The pilot waved at them frantically.
“And what’s the second thing?” Stann asked.
Ray gripped his grandad’s shoulder. “Stella’s son, Jake, is still missing. My mother was murdered. What do you think we do?”
Stann’s eyes, sniper’s eyes, flickered with the flames of Tye. “We bring the Hallowtide fires of Tear and every other Free Town down on the government of Ailan.”
“We finish this.”
A Lover’s Redemption
(The Misrule: Book Three)
The story continues in A Lover’s Redemption.
Randall Soulier murdered his parents. Now he wants his brother’s death and will sacrifice nations to get it.
The country of Ailan is in chaos. The Resistance have been exposed for the redundant force they are. The legions’ loyalties are split and Randall’s burning desire for murder is pushing him to the brink of madness.
Aided by an uneasy collection of allies, Ray Franklin stages a final stand against his brother. A father makes the ultimate sacrifice for his family. Long dead ghosts prove to be living legends. And within this chaos, a lover has a final chance to redress a lifetime of mistakes.
Will Randall Soulier get the death he needs or will the lover be redeemed? Download now to find out.
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Also by the Author
The Misrule Series
A Father’s Choice (The Misrule: The Prequel)
In a future built on greed and mistruths, an honest man faces a choice: risk everything for what he knows to be right or hide behind a lie.
Available on Amazon.
A Brother’s Secret (The Misrule: Book One)
In a future where religion has been outlawed, twins banned and the state monitors everything, a young man stumbles across a secret that turns his world upside down.
Available on Amazon.
A Lover’s Redemption (The Misrule: Book Three)
Randall Soulier murdered his parents. Now he wants his brother’s death and will sacrifice nations to get it.
Available on Amazon.
The Morgen Towers (Stories from and inspired by The Misrule)
Tales of vengeance and love, unsung heroism and dark magic. Stories of violence. Of hope.
Available on Amazon.
Dark Fiction Tales
I Died Yesterday (Dark Fiction Tales: Book One)
Sometimes doing the right thing brings out the wrong in people.
These five short stories are not happy, but they leave their mark. Some are set in our world; some are set in an alternate world (that of The Misrule series). This anthology combines dark humour, psychological terror, horror and a splash of brightly coloured gore. It packs an emotional p
unch made even more harrowing by the paper-thin divide between reality and fiction.
Available on Amazon.
An Angel Fallen (Dark Fiction Tales: Book Two)
You don’t send the kind to punish the cruel.
On a day when the world is struggling to stay sane, and is being ravaged by biblical plagues, what price will two teenagers pay for their past?
Available on Amazon.
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The Cast of This Book
The Settlements/ Free Towns/ Bucket Towns
Tear
Ray Franklin – ex-captain in the 10th Legion, now a fugitive.
