We all have to hang on to order. All of us. Once we think our little bit of it doesn’t matter and we let go, the whole thing unravels and takes the world with it.
Niko walked onto the gantry, braced his hands on the iron rail, and looked around the floor at the inmates below.
“Merino and Fenix,” he yelled. He didn’t even need to use the PA system now. “Merino and Fenix. Get ’em for me.”
Leuchars looked up. “Fenix is digging the vegetable beds.”
“Well, damn well get him, then. And find Merino. I want to see both of them.”
The cell locking system had been down since the power outage in the winter. Niko was seething, but the clerk at JD kept reminding him that the city had more important maintenance jobs to do than his. Edouain had fixed a couple of simple things like the fuses to the heating system, but the doors were now on manual only. Turning the hand-wheels was a slow, heavy job. Niko didn’t bother to let the dogs out into the runs as a precaution because it was just too much work for two men. He waited, checking his watch. Maura would be leaving for work now.
“Got ’em!” Leuchars yelled.
“Okay, tell them to wait at the main door.”
By the time Niko got downstairs and opened the gates, Marcus was standing behind the mesh inner door, arms folded, staring at the wall but not seeing it. He always had that don’t-interrupt-me-I’m-thinking look on his face these days. Merino ambled up to him, not making eye contact. That was the way those two coped. Merino didn’t provoke him, and Marcus wasn’t playing, just watching the game from the sidelines.
If I want some guys to manage and enforce order down there, then it’s those two.
Niko didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t cover three shifts now. If anything went wrong—if another system failed, if an officer had to go down there for any reason—then one man on his own could end up dead. It took another guy to operate the doors remotely.
And it was always a risk opening that main door on his own. He felt less confident coming down off the gantry every time.
Merino walked through first. “Wow, you must trust us, Officer,” he said. “No backup?”
“We’re all in the same shit, Merino.” Niko waited for Marcus to clear the door and locked it again. If Merino decided to turn around and have a crack at him, Niko was dead, armed or not. “Let’s help each other out.”
Marcus walked ahead of him. He didn’t look back. “You want to define the shit for us?”
“In a minute. Come on, keep moving.”
They came to a dead end at the portcullis that opened onto the lobby. It was as far from D Wing as Niko could be, as far out of anyone’s earshot as he could get. It was going to be hard enough breaking it to Campbell and Parmenter, let alone some of the inmates. Marcus and Merino turned to face him, probably now wondering if they’d walked into some set-up and were about to get a very hard time. Marcus was definitely tensed for a fight. The constant goddamn barking in the background didn’t help.
Niko blocked their way back to the cells, whatever good that was going to do. “Here’s the deal,” he said. “I’ve been fucked over again by some pen pusher at Sovereigns. They’re drafting more warders, so I’m down to three staff.”
“What, you want us to do your filing?” Merino asked. “Make the coffee?”
“The only way I’m going to run this place with two staff and three shifts is either to lock everyone down, all day, every day, or you help me out.”
Marcus shrugged. “Or you could just shoot us. You think anyone would give a shit?”
“I’d give a shit,” Niko said, tapping his CPS badge. “I would. I’ve got a job and I’m going to do it. Look, there’ll be three warders on duty during the day. At eighteen hundred, we hand the place over to you. Merino, you run that wing anyway, and Fenix can be your deputy. You got a problem with that?”
Merino just looked at him, probably calculating the advantage. Marcus frowned.
“How are we supposed to notice the difference?” Merino asked.
“I give you the internal keys. You manage the silent hours access. If you piss me around, we’ve always got the dogs.”
Marcus didn’t say a word. Niko couldn’t tell if he’d mentally checked out again or if he just disapproved. Merino shrugged.
“Why?” Merino asked. “We’re locked down overnight anyway.”
“Yeah, but if there’s an emergency, air strike, fire—”
“We’d love a fire. We’re freezing our balls off half the time. And if we can’t get out of the building anyway, what’s the point?”
“Buys you time.” He had a point. But all Niko could think of was guys being trapped in their cells like caged chickens. Scum or not, he just couldn’t stomach that. “It’s a big place.”
“Yeah, like the fire and rescue guys are going to turn out if our alarm goes off.”
Marcus was now looking at Niko like he was crazy. “You know none of this makes any frigging sense, don’t you?”
“Tell your buddy Prescott that. As long as this jail’s here, I’ve got a job to do. Somehow.”
Merino just smiled. “We’ll manage.”
“What’s prompted the draft anyway?” Marcus wasn’t giving up. This had thrown his switch again. “We haven’t had a working radio for over a year—maybe two. Is it that bad outside now?”
“Yes. It is. The grubs are moving in to the north of us now. That means we could be cut off any time.”
Predictably, Marcus didn’t ask what that meant for the jail. He always seemed to be focused on the bigger picture beyond the walls. “If we can’t hold that line, then we’re basically down to central Jacinto and not much else.”
“Who’s we?” Merino asked. “They kicked you out, soldier boy. You’re us now. And we’re still safe in our bunker, right?” He nodded at Niko. “Okay, you let me manage it how I see fit down here, and we don’t give you any hassle. As before.”
“Okay.” Niko handed him the ring of keys. They only opened the cells and the service areas like the kitchens, not the staff areas. Nobody was going to be walking out the front door, although if they were given enough time and put their minds to it they’d probably find a way. “Come on, about turn. Back you go.”
Niko had to flatten himself against the mesh to let them pass. Marcus was right. It was a dumb situation from start to finish. But the COG was a mass of contradictions, a crumbling city under siege still pretending it could carry on as before, just an army and a bunch of terrified civilians waiting for the inevitable end but too scared to admit it was coming. The Slab was just a miniature version of that.
Denial wouldn’t stop the grubs. Niko knew denial wouldn’t save the Slab, either. He opened the door and waved Marcus and Merino through.
Merino glanced back at him. “We can take care of ourselves okay,” he said. “But if I were you, I’d start working out a plan B for when your bosses abandon you completely. Because what happens to us then?”
Niko didn’t answer and began closing the bolts, heaving the hand-wheel until the metal clunked into place. As he walked along the mesh run back to the stairs, some of the dogs shot past him in the adjacent passage, barking again. The noise never seemed to stop. All the dogs did was eat, shit, and yap. Niko wondered if they were worth the hassle now because deploying them was so much time and effort, and Merino was going to keep things under control anyway.
Can I trust the word of a gang boss?
He’s never really been in the business of lying, though. Just strong-arming people.
And how am I going to unload a pack of dogs? We only need to keep a couple.
He went back to the offices and checked what was left in the fridge and the store cupboard. Ospen usually had the sense not to touch the staff supplies. There was enough powdered milk to last for a decent time, something labeled tea that could have been anything from herbs to the clippings from the hedges at Sovereigns, a fifteen-kilo sack of rice that was four years past its use-by date, and a meter of spicy drie
d sausage that made a half-decent soup when fried with kale. That would see them through any emergency. He turned on the radio and waited for the news on the hour.
It wouldn’t help if I got the inmates another radio, even if I could. It’s only bad news and shitty music these days.
Ospen stuck his head around the door. “Niko, you better take a look outside. The shelling’s getting really close.”
Niko turned down the volume on the radio and listened for a moment. There was the usual sporadic artillery noise, nothing exceptional, but it did sound louder.
“Okay, but what do you expect me to do about it?” The spoons resting in the coffee mugs rattled for a couple of seconds. That bothered him, because the movement could only come from the fissures in the bedrock, and that meant grubs. “Keep an ear on the news for me, will you? And if you touch anything in the larder, I’m going to chop off your fingers personally.”
It was quicker and safer to climb up to the roof and take a look than venture out of the gates. Niko learned the lessons Marcus taught him. The parapet had become a little observation post in recent weeks, and Niko was sure that when he looked across Wenlau Heath to the city, there was a glint of field glasses from rooftops looking back at him. The first thing he checked for was the smoke from artillery, then he’d scan for Ravens. He could hear them long before he saw them.
What he could hear now was Centaurs, though, the steady grinding noises of a column of tanks, but for a moment it was hard to get the direction. He had to put down the binoculars and just look for movement. And there they were: three Centaurs were rumbling north up the Andius highway with a couple of Armadillo APCs behind. He watched as they turned off the road and came down the ramp before disappearing from sight. Where the hell had they gone?
The ’Dills reappeared first, bouncing up from a culvert onto the heathland and taking up position on the far side, hatches open and gunners on top cover. Niko waited for the Centaurs to reappear, but the noise of a Raven coming in fast from behind made him look around. It was only when the Raven swept past at roof height, so close that he could see the door gunner feeding in an ammo belt, that he paid attention to the ground.
The scrubby gorse bushes were shivering but there was almost no wind. The ground shook visibly. Then a plume of soil and grass ripped up like someone was strafing in a precise line, and something exploded out of the heath about four hundred meters away, sending bushes tumbling and soil spewing into the air. A Corpser stumbled out of the hole followed by more than a dozen gray, scaly grubs. The Raven opened fire.
All Niko could do was stand and stare, horrified. The damn things had never tunneled this far through the layer of soil before and there was now a firefight going on right outside the Slab. The ’Dills came screaming in with guns firing. The Centaurs roared up behind them, bouncing across the rough ground, and opened fire on the Corpser. The second shell was a direct hit. Half of the Corpser’s legs were blown off but it kept moving for a while until another Centaur finished it off.
Ospen thudded onto the roof next to Niko and nearly made him crap himself.
“Fuck, they’re right outside,” Ospen panted. “What are we going to do?”
“Sweet FA, unless you’ve got an artillery piece hidden away.”
“I’m going to call JD.”
“I think they’ll know soon enough.” Yeah, what are we going to do? What use are a few rifles going to be? “But grubs can’t get under the walls. They can’t.”
The grubs were still coming out of the e-hole, though, and the ’Dill crews kept picking them off as they came up. It went on for about five minutes that seemed more like five hours. Niko wondered whether to go and get Marcus, but he wasn’t in any position to do anything either. Ospen watched, open mouthed, as the grubs kept boiling out of the hole into the tank barrage.
“They’re dumb,” Ospen said. “They’re just walking into it. What’s wrong with the assholes?”
Niko had one eye on the ’Dills. He saw one of them turn its turret around 180 degrees to face back toward the city, and when he followed its line of sight he suddenly saw why. On the highway behind the armored vehicles, movement caught his eye, steady movement like a flow of lava. He looked through the binoculars.
“Oh shit,” he said. “The grubs. There’s a column of grubs on the highway.”
The other ’Dill broke off and headed for the road. One of the Centaurs hung back and kept shelling the e-hole, but it was pretty clear now that the emergence was a distraction while the main grub advance took the highway. After a couple of minutes all the tanks headed back to the road, shelling as they went, and the few grubs left on the heath trotted toward the city, leaving Ospen and Niko gaping.
“Shit, they’d waste all those troops deliberately to divert us from the road?” Ospen said.
“Better make a note of that.” Niko climbed down through the access hatch. “You’ll be a Gear this time next week.”
This was too damn surreal. Niko was used to Reaver attacks and the hit-and-run nature of grub raids in the city outskirts, but the Slab had always seemed immune from all that. He went back to the office and dialed the JD number.
“What are you going to tell the prisoners?” Ospen asked. “They must have heard it.”
“I don’t know until I work it out myself,” Niko said. “But I’ll be damned if we’re going to sit here with a couple of pointed sticks and harsh words if those things are right at our gates now. I want goddamn weapons.”
“You can’t give prisoners weapons.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Artur, go make yourself useful. Find Merino or Fenix and tell them what’s going on outside.”
Ospen shot off and Niko waited for the phone to be answered. Niko got the same helpful clerk he usually did.
“Buddy, we’ve got grubs right outside the gates,” he said. “I’ve got a hundred rounds and two rifles. I might as well not bother with the sidearms. Arm us properly. Send us enough weapons for the inmates and I’ll make sure we hold this damn prison.”
“Dream on,” said the clerk.
“What do you expect me to do? Set the dogs on them? Come on, we’re in the shit. We need arms.”
“Well, it’d be possible,” the clerk said. “I could get the CDS to approve the issue. But that’s not your biggest problem.”
Tell me about it. “What is, then?”
“The grubs have taken the Andius highway. So you’d better dig in for a long wait.”
“Can’t help noticing we’ve still got helos.”
“Yeah, and they’ll be fighting grubs. So don’t expect supply drops. How many staff have you got?”
“There’s just two of us on duty at the moment.”
“Well, dig in for a long wait, buddy. Nobody’s going in or out until the area’s been retaken. If it’s retaken. You’re cut off.”
BRAVO SQUAD: SOUTHWEST JACINTO.
“What do you mean, it’s off again? I’ve waited nearly eight, nine goddamn months for this, and you tell me it’s fucking off?”
Dom made his calls from public phones these days. COGIntel might have been long gone, but he wasn’t taking any chances. It was maybe the sixth time they’d had to call off Marcus’s extraction because of grub attacks or a lack of vehicles or some other shit, and he’d had enough. Sure, he’d been warned it was going to take time, and a few more months was just a drop in the ocean compared to a forty-year sentence, but even so, it was the final straw.
Tai and Jace watched him from the Packhorse as he tried to look discreet in the booth on the corner of Dalyell Street. He kept in line of sight with them so they could warn him when Drew Rossi was heading back to the vehicle. It was bad enough having two buddies who knew too much about the jailbreak to deny it without adding any more.
“In case you haven’t noticed,” Verdier said, “the goddamn prison’s cut off. Now, I’m thinking that’s more of a problem for the army to solve than for me. So why don’t you get your armored ass on the case, shift the grubs, and then we
can get on with springing your guy? Okay? Great.”
The phone slammed down on the other end. Dom was left staring helplessly at the buzzing receiver, fresh out of abuse to hurl at Verdier anyway. He walked back to the Pack and slid into the rear seat next to Tai.
“He says the extraction’s on hold again because the Slab’s cut off,” Dom said.
“Fate is beyond our control,” Tai said. “But we have a choice whether to embrace it, or waste time resisting it.”
Dom gritted his teeth and tried to remember that Tai didn’t just mean well. Sometimes he actually made sense. But right now he was talking shit, and Dom concentrated on calming down before Rossi returned. He could see the sergeant ambling down the road with a grubby but well-filled checkered cloth tied in a bundle. He always knew where to get hold of snacks in exchange for favors that Dom didn’t ask too many questions about, although they usually involved women.
“He bounced back pretty good after Laurie,” Jace murmured. “Never thought he would. Now look at him.”
Dom always wondered how Rossi had managed to stop grief paralyzing him completely. He was eating something as he walked, a pastry or a cake. He’d gone apeshit when his paramedic girlfriend—Laurie—was killed in a grub raid when she was recovering bodies, but after a year of plunging down to rock bottom, Rossi seemed to decide he was going to thwart the grub assholes by living well. He screwed everything that moved. Women liked him and didn’t seem to feel at all used by him, but there was a war on, and that did strange things to people’s inhibitions. Dom kidded himself it wasn’t like that in the Pendulum Wars, but he thought of how young most people were when they got married, and how soon they had kids, let alone all the desperate, last-ditch flings that went on. I had a wife, a son, and another baby on the way by the time I was eighteen. Ever-present, random death reminded you what you were brought into this world to do.
Rossi could move on because he’d seen Laurie’s body. There was no crazy hope to hang on to.
Gears of War: The Slab (Gears of War 5) Page 43
