KYMIERA_PURITY

by Steve Turnbull

  He stood up. ‘Everything’s fine,’ he said and walked to his car.

  As he drove away the vehicle exploded, taking with it everyone who had seen him.

  21

  Chloe

  Chloe growled at the rain as she exited the library. She walked to the edge of the steps and faced the wall of water. She had no umbrella and really wasn’t dressed for the downpour. But time was getting on and there was no point waiting; the trams were few and far between at this time of night.

  She resigned herself to getting wet and stepped out into the rain. She was drenched in moments. People joked about wet rain, the sort that somehow penetrated more than other rain. This was possibly the wettest rain she had ever encountered.

  The weather was more extreme than it used to be: the summers hotter and the winters colder. People said it was global warming; it had been a big thing once upon a time, apparently. Too many people running too many machines that burned coal and oil. S.I.D solved that problem.

  The Purity taught that S.I.D was the Malthusian solution; there had been only so long that the world population could keep increasing before disease took it—if war and famine didn’t get there first. There was nowhere else for the population to go. Of course there were the cults that thought it was a judgement from some higher being. Maybe it was. It didn’t really matter.

  She supposed that global warming must have been monitored in some way. No one talked about it anymore. Something had changed in the weather but if it had been a cataclysmic alteration nobody really noticed. Just the older people complained that the summers were hotter and the winters colder.

  She crossed the tram tracks and stood under the canopy that stretched across the waiting area. Water dripped from her and the light breeze raised a shiver. Her trip to see Ali had helped and, as long as she stayed straight, her back didn’t ache.

  She heard the screeching of the metal wheels on the rails before the tram came around the corner. Someone coughed behind her. She jumped in surprise and glanced round but there was no one there. She frowned and turned her attention to the incoming driverless carriages.

  She supposed there must be a wirehead somewhere running the trams. Or perhaps they really were completely automatic. Lots of people didn’t understand that a computer virus wasn’t like a real one; someone had to create it and plant it. Not like S.I.D which was natural. Was a wirehead really better than a computer?

  The tram ground to a halt in front of her. The doors opened automatically. No one got off and she climbed aboard the front carriage, glancing around to do the dance of where to sit.

  She preferred to have a solid wall behind her. There were a couple of people in the second carriage so she would stay in the front. She also liked looking forward but since she had the choice of every seat in the carriage it was moot. She chose a seat near the rear of the carriage with her back to the patched rubber concertina stretching between the two.

  The muscles behind her ears twitched as she heard someone else stepping heavily into the rear carriage. She hoped it wasn’t a drunk. It wasn’t that she couldn’t defend herself—she knew half a dozen ways to kill someone with her bare hands and feet—it was just difficult and embarrassing. Especially if they were friendly.

  Just as the doors began to close someone else jumped into the front carriage. She couldn’t blame him; no one wanted to wait in that rain. He looked around just as she had, though she thought his eyes lingered on her a little too long, but then he took a seat halfway up the carriage from her.

  The tram pulled away, slid across a major junction and into the road opposite that ran between dilapidated buildings. The space opened up and the track climbed above road level. It ran alongside the Central Arena. It was still used for events but much of the ceiling had collapsed. Besides, no one really wanted to spend a lot of time in close proximity to anonymous people. The risk of infection might not be high but why take chances?

  The tram curved around the end of the arena and came to a halt at Deansgate railway station. Reflected in the window at the front she watched as the two original occupants got out. The tram moved off again and headed south. They passed through Chorlton and the tram turned more east towards Didsbury. Chloe realised they were near where Melinda had disappeared.

  She wondered what the police were doing. Nothing at night probably, she wished that DI Mitchell had been working on the case. She was pleased to have met him in some ways. It wasn’t the fact that he had killed so many freaks; it was that he wasn’t proud of it. He did it because he had to in order to protect the public, and because in the end they were better off dead.

  The rain and the dark obliterated almost everything outside the window. When she was younger she had been scared of being on the tram in the dark and rain just in case she missed her stop.

  Familiarity eventually solved that fear. She peered out and recognised the flashing billboard opposite the entrance to Southern Cemetery. The tram stopped. She saw the reflection of the big man in the rear carriage get up and move forwards. Instead of getting off he took a seat closer to the front. Her ear muscles twitched again and she fancied she could hear him breathing over the noise of the rain pelting the roof and the whining of the electric motors.

  She shook herself. Why should there be any threat? Even she had adjusted her sitting position on the tram before when she found the place she was sitting had an unpleasant odour or there was something sticky on the plastic seats. It wasn’t unusual. Anyway, the next stop was hers.

  As long as he didn’t get off at the same place.

  The tram paused at the red lights, not that there was any traffic going the other way. Probably just machines, she thought, a wirehead would have given them priority. At least, she imagined that’s what they would do, they were people after all.

  The light went green and the tram moved off once more. It took about two minutes to get to the tram station. She glanced ahead. With the lights on inside the tram she could see nothing except the distorted reflection of herself and the rest of the carriage. The man seated in front of her was also staring at the window. Lights from outside glinted on his eyes and she could have sworn he was staring at her.

  She looked down at her hands and then up again. He was still looking at her.

  An involuntary shudder went through her. She had not known the other girls that had disappeared but she knew Melinda, and every one of them was about her age. Was this it? Had they come for her?

  Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself. Why would they want her?

  But the other part of her mind asked: Why did they want Melinda, or the others, what was it that made them a target?

  She jumped as the brakes squealed and the tram slowed. She got to her feet and went to stand by the left-hand door. The other two passengers did not move. She tried to convince herself she was imagining it but her heart sped up and she could almost feel the adrenaline flowing through her. She just wanted to run. Yes, of course, she had had fights, but they were either in the dojo where everything was controlled, or it was in the playground where she barely needed to exercise the slightest level of technique to dominate.

  But this was real—at least in her imagination—and the truth was she was scared.

  The tram doors huffed and scraped as they opened. The platform was dimly lit from the lights in the roof of the station. A sheet of rain fell between the door and where the roof started. A wide puddle covered the platform.

  Before she stepped down into the rain, a third man emerged from the shadows of the station opposite her. His coat was slick with water reflecting the light and his bald head glistened. She stopped. He stared at her.

  ‘Hello, girlie, want to go for a nice ride?’

  Sensei had always said that if a fight was imminent, don’t hesitate. Jujitsu was not a clean and pretty martial art; it was about getting the job done with a minimum of fuss and effort. But he was too far away; he would see her coming.

  She did not need to look behind her; she could hear the othe
r two—the one with the hat that had sat at the front, the other big and heavy one—as they moved into position behind her.

  Baldy took a step forward. One of the men behind her shoved hard. Pain shot through her. All of Ali’s work in relieving the tension was undone in a moment. He was strong and caught her off balance. She stumbled out into the rain, caught her foot in the gap and fell forwards smashing into her knees. The agony of it ripped through her.

  Behind her, the one with the hat followed her out. ‘Easy.’

  Chloe caught the movement as he reached out for her. Almost without thinking she twisted and slammed her fist into his groin. He doubled over with a whimper. She improvised a punch up to where she thought his solar plexus ought to be but hit ribs.

  Sensei’s voice was in her head. You can fight on the ground, but better on your feet.

  She grabbed his shoulder and used him to lever herself to her feet. On the way up she slammed her knee into his face and he fell back. At the ferocity of her attack, Baldy had taken a step away but something like a metal vice snapped round her right wrist, serrated edges bit into her forearm as it pulled upwards and lifted her from the ground. She wriggled in attempt to get free.

  ‘We were warned about you and your little tricks,’ said Baldy as he came forward. He let fly an untrained kick at her stomach. With her weight suspended from her arm, dragging on her shoulder, she lifted her legs and blocked then snapped a kick at his face. She made contact, and he tumbled back into the dark. Water splashed up where he fell.

  Trying to ignore the pain in her right arm, she tried to hit the one that held her in the groin with her fist but couldn’t reach. She pummelled his legs with her heels. It made no difference. She couldn’t see what she was doing and nothing in her training covered being dangled by her arm. She needed to see her opponent. She relaxed her raised arm and twisted.

  Where there should have been skin there were fish scales. The eyes were no longer human but at least one ear was normal. Above her head her arm was gripped in a crab-claw. Freak.

  She punched the chest. It was like rock. She shrieked and yanked her hand back. She pulled back the cloth around the arm that gripped her and found a chitinous exoskeleton. But it was just one arm; it wasn’t a bear hug. All she needed was leverage.

  There was a groan to her left. She released the tension in her arm and twisted back. The one with the hat was pulling a burner from his pocket and, with a pained looked on his face, aimed the twin ionising barrels in her direction. Without even thinking she hooked her dangling legs around the right side of the freak. She strained her stomach muscles and pulled herself round so the big guy’s body was between her and the weapon.

  Pain lanced through her elbow as it bent unnaturally. Light flashed and the smell of ozone filled the air as her hip went numb. But the freak must have taken most of it. The grip on her arm loosened and she crashed to the ground. The freak collapsed beside her.

  She heard the sound of the tram doors closing. Lifting her head she saw she was barely a foot from it. She flung out her right arm, not caring how much it hurt. The doors slid together but stopped on her wrist. After a moment they opened again. The rain poured down.

  Get up, she screamed at herself.

  ‘Just stay still, girlie.’

  She twisted her head. Over the top of the prone freak she saw Baldy approaching. He had a burner too. She did not move. How long before the doors close again? She had no idea, time seemed distorted.

  ‘Get up slowly or I will use this.’

  She gathered her aching arms under her and placed her feet against the back of the freak. She heard the click of machinery and something engaged. She twisted her head towards Baldy again. ‘Screw you.’

  Almost in slow motion, as the door mechanism engaged, she saw and heard his finger tighten on the trigger. She almost thought she could see the twin beams of ionising radiation emerge from the double barrels.

  She thrust against the freak and pushed with her arms as the doors closed. She had lost so much weight she soared through the closing gap.

  Not fast enough. The beams grazed her again as the ten thousand volts surged through the air. With Chloe moving out of the way the beams struck the ground. The electrical power found the water much more to its liking than ionised air and, as Chloe thudded against the far door of the dry carriage, the station lit up and each man went rigid with the shock. Unable to do anything else, Baldy kept his finger on the trigger until the power in the battery pack was completely exhausted.

  The tram motor engaged and its motion, as it pulled away, was the last thing Chloe knew before she lost consciousness.

  Keep reading with Episode 2

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