We did as we were told, pulling open the rear door and climbing into the darkened interior. It was a bit of a squeeze with four of us on the seat but we managed, peering through the porthole-like windows to see the gunner lugging his weapon over the plaza, a bronze tail of ammo sweeping the floor behind him. He clambered onto the roof turret and mounted the machine gun.
‘Hey guys,’ he shouted down, offering a smile to Lucy. ‘Don’t mind me.’
‘Right,’ said Atilio as she climbed into the driver’s seat, firing up the engine. ‘Let’s get this show on the road.’ She pulled the radio handset from its socket. ‘Checkmate 5 this is Airborne 32, do you copy?’
A voice buried deep within static whistled from the speakers. I couldn’t make out what it said but the captain obviously could.
‘Status is groundbound, sir,’ she reported. ‘Something pulled us right out of the air. Airborne 14 too, now KIA. What do you need us to do?’
The voice again, barking out orders made up of numbers and code words and not much else.
‘Roger that, XO,’ Atilio said. ‘Got some civvies, I’ll drop them off with the PMCs over by Pear Street.’
She waited for confirmation then replaced the receiver, slamming the gearstick into reverse and revving hard. The powerful engine pulled the truck from the wall, the vehicle bumping as it rolled over the rat. The gears groaned as she fought to find first, then started forward across the plaza.
‘Where are we going?’ I asked.
‘We need to head to Meriton,’ Lucy interrupted. ‘The police station, it will be safe there.’
‘You kidding me?’ Atilio replied. ‘Meriton’s gone, everything up there is gone.’
‘Gone?’ Lucy asked. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean gone, not there any more. You haven’t seen the fires?’ Atilio eased the truck over the pavement and onto the street, accelerating towards the smoke. She saw us all nodding in the rear-view mirror. ‘They took out the police stations first, hours ago. Meriton, Raymond-town, even as far north as Colette.’
‘They?’ I blurted, not quite believing what I was hearing, and even though I knew the answer I added, ‘Who?’
‘We don’t know,’ she said as the world turned to night, smoke nuzzling against the tiny windows, flowing in through the open roof. Above us the gunner coughed into his sleeve. Atilio flicked a switch and the headlights came on, doing little to cut through the confusion. ‘It all started with the prison break, but this is more than that. There are creatures out there, like animals, only not like any animal I’ve ever seen before. They’re big, they’re fast, they’re savage, and they don’t go down when you shoot them.’
I opened my mouth to try and explain but for some reason Zee rested a hand on my arm, offering a tiny shake of his head. Atilio angled the truck around a burning car. It was the one we had passed earlier. She was driving us into the city.
‘We got the call at around 0600,’ she went on. ‘Standby orders. By that time the hospitals were already filling up with cops and the emergency services had gone into meltdown. First Battalion is stationed just outside the city. We’re an anti-terrorist squad, really, ready to roll if something bad ever goes down.’
‘Don’t get much badder than this,’ the gunner added, swinging his machine gun round to cover the road ahead.
‘You can say that again,’ Atilio said. ‘Half an hour after that we got the green light: move in. Our orders were to shoot on sight, clear the streets. And that was fine, when we thought there were only prisoners to shoot.’
Zee opened his mouth to protest, then obviously thought better of it.
The smoke peeled away from the windscreen to reveal that the road ahead had been completely blocked by what looked like a collapsed building, bricks and tiles and furniture spilled everywhere and smouldering. Atilio swore, doing a clumsy three-point turn and heading back the way we’d come.
‘Keep it sharp up there, Roke,’ she ordered. ‘This feels wrong.’
‘Yessir, ma’am,’ came his reply, muffled by the wind as the truck accelerated. Atilio hung a left at the first junction we came to, accelerating down the street before turning left again. The road here was narrower but clearer and I could see right down it into the heart of the city. Above us there was a roar as another chopper soared over the streets, disappearing towards the distant skyscrapers.
‘Lucky bastards,’ muttered the captain. ‘I hate being groundbound.’
‘Excuse me,’ Lucy asked, leaning forward. ‘But where are we going? Shouldn’t you be heading the other way, taking us to safety?’
‘Sorry, kid,’ Atilio said, her face in the mirror bearing a genuine expression of concern. ‘We’ve got our orders and rescuing civvies ain’t part of them. We’re grateful that this is Sunday, not too many people in the city. But it’s spreading, and fast. We had reports of disturbances as far out as the estuary, and if it gets any further then we won’t be able to stem it. Like a bleeder, y’know? Got to nip the artery or you’re bang out of luck.’
‘Then where are you taking us?’ Lucy persisted, wiping the tears from her eyes.
‘Closest place I can think of as safe,’ Atilio replied. ‘Most of the Batt is broken up and sweeping the city, and the police have been moved to the outskirts to prevent panic setting in – the ones that are still alive, that is. But we’re not alone out here. Bunch of PMCs have been called in and I know for a fact they’re stationed down this way. Got a camp there, and I reckon that’s your best bet.’
‘PMCs?’ I asked.
‘Private military companies,’ Atilio explained, the truck speeding up as it thundered down the hill. ‘Back in my training days we’d have called ’em mercs – mercenaries – but we don’t use that word any more. They’re soldiers, only they don’t work for the government. They— Oh boy, hold on.’
I glanced out of the window to see that we were approaching a junction. There was less smoke here, and I could make out a café on the corner, and next to that a grocery shop. It would have looked like a perfectly normal city scene if not for the two tanks that wheeled noisily from the street to our left, the tarmac crumbling beneath their squeaking caterpillar tracks. Atilio honked her horn and manoeuvred the truck between them, offering a salute out of the window. If anybody inside saw her they didn’t show any sign of it, the enormous machines rolling out of sight behind a kebab shop.
‘This city is gonna be dust before the day is out,’ she said once the thunder had passed. ‘So anyway, what exactly were you kids doing on the roof of St Martin’s in the first place?’
‘Hiding,’ Zee said. ‘We were out on the streets, saw what was going on. Looked like the best place to take shelter.’
‘And you just happened to be in the middle of the financial district at half-past dark on a Sunday morning?’ she asked, although I could tell by the way she looked at us in the mirror that she already knew the truth.
‘Would you believe we were sightseeing?’ Zee tried, not very convincingly.
Captain Atilio nodded. ‘Yeah, right, and this here is the Queen’s carriage and Roke up there is her footman. You a footman, Roke?’
‘If I am, I’m wearing the wrong uniform,’ he shouted down.
‘And you lot aren’t tourists, either,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen enough prison eyes in my time. Don’t look so worried; a few escaped juvies are the least of my concerns at the moment. Right now the more of you lot we see who aren’t punching through solid steel and biting off heads the better.’ She turned in her seat, glancing at my arm. ‘Though the brains’ll want to take a good look at you with that tree trunk you’ve got there.’
‘The brains?’ I asked, and for some reason found myself thinking of the wheezers and their wicked blades.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Atilio said. ‘Military intelligence have set up shop a dozen clicks away. I can’t take you there. We’ll drop you with the mercs for now, then it’s back into the fight.’
‘So you have no idea what’s going on?’ Ze
e asked, leaning between the seats. Atilio shook her head and let out a rueful laugh.
‘Kid, I haven’t got a clue. All I know is that there are things out there that make al-Qaeda look like fluffy bunnies, and we’ve got orders to shoot ’em dead. Until someone tells me different, I pull the trigger first and ask questions never. Welcome to life on the front line.’
I don’t know if she said any more because it suddenly felt as if the sky above me had opened up, a noise like the world ending. I didn’t know what it was until a shell casing landed on my lap, bigger than my thumb and red hot. I brushed it off, feeling more drop down, a rain of burning brass as Roke fired the cannon. I clamped my hands to my ears, feeling the truck veer wildly to the right, something bouncing off the bumper with a dull thud. Above me Roke swung the weapon round, shooting it back the way we’d come.
‘You see that?’ he yelled as Atilio steadied the vehicle. ‘Man, it was bigger than a horse!’
‘You get it?’ the captain yelled.
‘Hit it with about a dozen rounds,’ he replied. ‘Just threw itself over a roof. I think it’s still up there.’
He grunted in frustration, pulling the trigger again. I looked out the back, saw the enormous shells punching through random walls, tearing chunks from the brickwork, smashing windows into dust. Then he stopped, spitting out a couple of choice swear words.
‘It’s getting worse,’ Atilio said. ‘It’s like there’s a nest of these things somewhere.’
‘I think we may know where,’ I said. Atilio glanced at me in the mirror. I started to explain but she stopped me.
‘Save it for the XO,’ she said. ‘The mercs have set up a command centre in the Pear Street multi-storey. We’re nearly there. I’ll have a couple of them swing you over to HQ, get you out of town. They’ll want to talk to you, especially if you have the slightest clue as to what’s going on.’
‘Take the next right,’ Roke shouted down. ‘Road ahead’s jammed, use Freeman Street, then cut round the back.’
Atilio followed his directions, the car turning right and speeding down a narrow street before skidding left through a barrier and into a car park. It didn’t quite fit through the gap, sparks flying up from the sides and sounding like a finger scraping down a blackboard.
‘Whoops,’ Atilio said. ‘Glad this ain’t my car. Where the hell are these guys, anyway?’
‘Sitting up top crying to each other like little babies, most likely,’ Roke suggested with a snigger.
‘Not this lot,’ Atilio said, steering the truck carefully up the first ramp. ‘From what I hear this crew are a bunch of cold-hearted killers, built like outhouses and with surgical enhancements to boot.’
The car bombed through the empty car park, swinging up to the next level. She glanced in the mirror for long enough to see our nervous expressions.
‘Don’t worry, these guys can be a foul-mouthed and filthy bunch but they’re usually harmless. We call this lot the Blues Brothers. You’ll get that when you see what they all wear.’
We swung up again, pressed against each other as we swerved round another bend.
‘Don’t let them give you any lip, right? They may be freelance but right now they answer to my XO, and don’t be afraid to remind them of that. Besides …’
She stopped for long enough to ease the truck up another ramp.
‘… Something tells me you’ll feel right at home with them, judging by the state of those eyes of yours.’
We bombed up the last ramp back into the blinding sunlight, and by the time her words had sunk in it was too late. The truck squealed to a halt and several hulking shapes approached, one of them pulling open my door with a dull throb of laughter. A pair of silver cat’s eyes peered into the gloom, a razor-sharp smile slicing open his face.
‘Well, well. Just look at what we’ve got here.’
Then he grabbed my arm in an iron grip I hoped I’d never feel again, ripping me from the truck into the cold, cruel glare of a dozen grinning blacksuits.
PMCs
They’d cuffed me before I even knew what was going on, cold steel against my wrists, my right arm swollen so much that the clasp almost didn’t click shut. I felt a boot connect with my leg, sending me crashing down onto my knees, then the unmistakable metal ring of a gun barrel against my neck, pushing my forehead against the huge front wheel of the truck. That’s all it took, a second or two, and they had me again, their smoky laughter rumbling across the roof of the car park as if this building too was gripped by an inferno.
‘Hey, what do you think you’re doing?’ Captain Atilio appeared from behind the bonnet, one finger pointing at the blacksuit above me. ‘Let him go, you’ve got no authority to—’
‘It’s them!’ I heard Zee yelling from inside, banging on the tiny window. ‘Captain, these are the men responsible.’
‘You shut it too, kid,’ Atilio snapped. ‘I want quiet. You, I need your name and rank, and I need to see your commanding officer right now.’
The truck had seen better days, but I could still make out some of the scene behind me reflected in the hubcap. There were at least half a dozen figures there. I wanted to believe that it was the battered metal which distorted the men, that they weren’t really Goliaths of muscle, their silver eyes glowing in the sun. But I knew Furnace’s soldiers when I saw them, when I heard them.
The only difference between this lot and the guards back in the prison was that some of these wore red armbands over their suit jackets, a white circle and a black motif emblazoned there. I studied the blurred reflection, realising after a moment that it was the Furnace logo, three circles joined by a triangle of lines.
‘We’ve got all the authority we need,’ growled the one who had me pinned to the door. He wasn’t wearing an armband. ‘These are escaped convicts, property of Furnace Penitentiary. You want to see paperwork then we’ve got buckets of it over in the tower.’ I heard the focus of his voice change. ‘You, get them all in cuffs, and call Warden Cross, let him know who’s back.’
Just the sound of the warden’s name made my stomach churn, and with it came the nectar, called into action by my pounding heart. A dark flower began to bloom over my vision, reality peeling away like dead skin, exposing nothing but raw nerves beneath. The blacksuit must have sensed something because the pressure on the back of my head grew stronger, the metal door pinging as my head was pushed into it.
Somewhere behind me I heard the bleep of a radio, a blacksuit speaking into it too quietly for me to make out his words.
‘Captain Atilio, please,’ Zee’s voice again. ‘Don’t listen to them. They’re responsible for all this. They’re the ones who’re trying to take over the city. Please, don’t leave us here.’
Another couple of blacksuits approached and I heard scuffling from inside the truck, shouts and screams and swear words all blasted out in one indecipherable chorus. Gradually each voice became clearer as Simon, Zee and Lucy were pulled into the daylight, squirming powerlessly against the mammoth fists that held them.
The car door slammed shut and I felt somebody grab my legs. I was pulled flat onto my face, more cuffs fastened around my feet, then yanked back and chained to those around my wrists. I fought against it but even with the rage building inside me, the nectar flowing to my muscles, I couldn’t budge my restraints. All I could do was wriggle onto my back, my hands and feet pinned painfully beneath me as I rested my head against the wheel. At least I could see what was going on now.
‘Listen, I don’t care if these kids are prisoners or civilians,’ Atilio shouted, marching up to the first blacksuit and staring him right in the eye, even though her head only came up to his chest. Then she actually prodded him, which made me respect her just about more than anyone else I’d ever met. ‘You’ve got no right to throw them about like this. I was going to leave them with you, because I thought we had bigger fish to fry. But I’m taking them with me.’
She turned to the semicircle of blacksuits that had formed around us – the ones
on the outside were all wearing armbands, but those closest to me weren’t – pointing in turn at the ones who held my friends.
‘I’m ordering you to let these kids go.’
Nobody moved, just another purr of laughter spilled from a dozen pairs of grinning lips. The sound made me want to puke, flooding my head with memories – the night I was caught, when the blacksuits shot Toby, the countless times they had threatened us in Furnace, and my own soulless laughter when I had nearly, so very nearly, become one of them.
‘Captain,’ I started, wanting to warn her, wanting to tell her to get out of here before it turned nasty. But my words were choked off by a hammer of a fist which slammed into my jaw. Black stars burst into supernovas, plunging the car park into a flash of night. That darkness pulsed out of my eyes into my head, the nectar pleading to be given control. Let me loose and we can kill them, it seemed to say, each word knocking a little more of my sanity away. We can kill them all. I shook my head, silently screaming the words away. I couldn’t lose myself to it, not again.
‘That’s enough!’ I heard Atilio shout, and by the time my vision had cleared I noticed she had her pistol out, swinging it back and forth between the blacksuits. There was a rattle from the truck and I hoped that Roke was up there. Berserkers might be bulletproof, but blacksuits wouldn’t last long against a cannon loaded with armour-piercing rounds. ‘Kids, just get back inside the truck. Roke, if any one of these creepy PMC mothers so much as puts a finger in the way then you know what to do.’
The first blacksuit, the one who had cuffed me, turned to the guard who was on the radio, waiting for something. It came seconds later in the form of a nod.
‘Captain,’ said the blacksuit, turning back to Atilio, still grinning insanely. ‘I’m afraid we can’t let you do that.’
Fugitives Page 15
