by Peter Tylee
Jen snapped a corner off the white slab and touched it to her tongue,as though she couldn’t quite believe it was salt. “There’s so much.”
He nodded, absorbed by his inner thoughts. Rising above the mob of discomforting questions was one thing he knew for certain, and he had to let her know. “Jen…”
She stood to look at him.
Dan brushed his fingers tenderly across her chin. “I can’t come with you.”
“Why?” Jen felt confused and ashamed. But her feelings quickly turned to anger, which she directed at herself. How could I be so stupid?She was furious that she’d made herself vulnerable. A bounty hunter of all people! Oh my God, howdid that happen?Still, she needed an answer.
“It’s too soon.” He braved a smile that he didn’t quite feel capable of giving. “After Katherine I mean.”
It stung. Jen felt a pang in her stomach, which quickly moved toward her chest. Most of all she felt lost, like an autumn leaf at the mercy of a chaotic and cruel wind. She would have sooner melted than admit it, but she’d been using Dan as her anchor. And now he’d cast her adrift. It’s too soon.An empty chasm settled where hope had once been. But she defied her feelings, forced a smile, and reached up to touch him on the shoulder. “It’s okay, I understand.”
I doubt it,Dan thought, hoping she never would. Nobody deserves to understand this loneliness and desolation. “Maybe I’ll visit.”
“I’d like that.” Jen felt her skin tingling under the oppressive sun and said, “I’m burning, I’d better go in.”
Dan nodded. “I’ll be along soon. Now that I’m here, I might as well check the calibration on the thermo-cells. I’ve been meaning to do it for weeks.”
“Okay, see you inside.” She realised how straining it had been to keep the dejection from her face when she turned away and allowed the mask to slip. Each pace was like a stride into the unknown. We’re alone.But she’d been comfortable with that for months. So why is it bothering me now?She didn’t need Dan, she didn’t need anybody, or so she was desperate to believe. Three days ago she’d been fiercely independent. And now?It was different. Why?She couldn’t explain. It just was.
Dan watched her leave, hands on his hips. He was so wrapt by his inner turmoil that he didn’t notice the burgundy four-wheel drive tearing down the dirt road, throwing up a cloud of dust and grit. It swerved violently, slicing across his boundary with a bucking action that would’ve whiplashed the passengers. And by the time it was within striking distance, Dan was too late to stop them.
*
Esteban squinted at the barren landscape through the double-glazing. “What a fucking desert.” He snivelled and ran a hand across his face. Junior was driving recklessly, grinding the gearbox. Hardly surprising since he hadn’t driven a car for months and hadn’t driven a manual for years. Their stolen four-wheel drive wasn’t exactly a luxury vehicle either. Its leather seats were badly scarred and slashed, the foam in the cushions squeezing to freedom. And it stinks!It reminded Esteban of the repugnant stench of pig manure. Fucking farmers.He abhorred anything that even remotely resembled farms or farming. To him it was primitive, far removed from the luxury of the Guild.
Adrian sat in the front passenger seat, on the left since Australiansdrove on the left. Stupid English and their stupid left-of-the-road rules. Esteban’s lack of sleep had deposited him squarely in an unpleasant mood.
Adrian was studying a map, turning it around with each twist of the dusty road to keep it pointing straight. “It should be about two miles.”
“Which side of the road?” A grinding sound screeched from the mortified gearbox as Junior selected a lower gear and revved the engine to mount a steep incline in the road.
“Uh…” Adrian adjusted his glasses before answering, “Right.”
The tachometer redlined with Junior’s punishment. “Right.”
“No!” Adrian changed his mind. “I mean left.”
“Left? You’re sure.”
“Uh…” Adrian spun the map again. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Right.”
“Shut the fuck up you clowns.” Esteban wasn’t in the mood for their antics. “Just remember what you’re supposed to do.”
“How could we forget?” Junior punctuated his rhetorical question with another shift in the stick and another grind from the gears. The four-wheel drive had high ground clearance to cope with the rough Australian conditions and it felt as if he was driving a truck. It ran on diesel rather than petroleum-replacement fuel and was therefore difficult to stall. Somehow, he’d managed twice in town.
“Here!” Adrian pointed to his left. “Right here!”
Junior spun the wheel sharply and their land cruiser careered over an embankment and dipped sharply back to earth with a crunch that nearly landed Adrian’s head on the dashboard.
Esteban wasn’t wearing a seatbelt but he’d braced himself firmly against the two seats in front and taken the impact with his arms. Perfect.He swept the scene and changed his fluid plans in an instant. “Go, go! There!” He slapped Junior in the shoulder and pointed out the windscreen. “Quick!”
He recognised her, even from a distance. It was the way she walked. Jennifer Cameron.A twisted grin lit Esteban’s face and he gripped the stock of his automatic rifle and grunted doggedly. Die bitch.He pressed the button to lower his power window and swung the barrel out before gently squeezing the trigger. Three rounds burst with a flash from the muzzle, visible even in the dazzle of the desert. He saw three distinct puffs of dirt explode on her left. He hadn’t intended to hit her, though the rocking of their vehicle made for a dicey game. One stray round was enough to splatter her brains over the baked ground for the scavengers to feed upon. He was trying to avoid that.
Another squeeze and the rifle recoiled, again pummelling his shoulder. This time there were four quick kicks amid the deafening bark of automatic fire. He was herding her away from the reflective orange plates that warned approaching vehicles of Dan’s underground abode. If I can nab her before she reaches the house…It was too perfect to have planned. Only luck and chance could deliver something so divinely flawless.
Junior swerved just as Esteban put pressure on the trigger and a burst of fire swept perilously past Jen. Esteban lowered the weapon to make sure she was still alive. Three rounds puffed into the ground hazardously close, passing half a metre from her fragile body. Okay, that’s too close.Esteban lowered the rifle and reached for his Peacemaker, better suited for close range. They were near enough to make out the startled expression on her face and it thrilled him in a sadistic way. She was sprinting now, running for her life. Not that it’ll do you any good, honey.
A bullet shattered the rear window and Esteban swept the horizon for anything he’d missed. There, by the cells.It was Dan. Only he would’ve had the wits and guts to fire upon a four-wheel drive full of men with automatic weapons.
“Cover him!” Esteban shouted above the revving engine.
“I see it.” Adrian used his scope, pressing his glasses as close as he dared without the two surfaces touching. He squeezed his trigger and a volley of .303 calibre bullets zinged through the air and shredded a thermo-cell.
Esteban slapped Junior on the shoulder. “Pull up beside her.”
He swerved to obey and easily intercepted Jen before she could reach a copse of trees. Adrian laid additionalcovering fire and splintered more of Dan’s thermo-cells while Esteban opened his door and knocked Jen to the ground.
She twisted underneath him, trying to squirm onto her back where she’d have a chance to claw out his eyes. But his heftier frame and vicelike grip were too much. He subdued her by twisting her arms behind her back and wrenching them high. She moaned with pain. Any more pressure and her shoulders would pop, tearing her arms from their sockets. Jen kicked with her feet, trying to dig a heel into his back, but he was too far forward.
“Get off me!” Her breathing was weak; the fall had knocked the wind out of her.
“Not likely.” Esteba
n yanked her to her feet with calculated force, jolting her with pain. Any harder and hewould’veshattered her shoulders beyond repair. He quickly wrapped piano wire around her wrists, securing them behind her back. It cut into her flesh, biting deeper the more she resisted. “Is that too tight?”
All Jen could do was nod, her face pale from a nauseating combination of shock and pain.
“Good.” Esteban tugged her arms apart, the action leaving her ill to her core. The slightest pressure sent waves of agony shooting up from her wrists. She had no options left, or none that she was willing to take. Nothing was worth severing her hands. Already the razor-like wire had sliced a neat circle around each wrist and it was threatening to start on her tendons and bones. If Esteban had wanted, he could’ve wrenched her elbows apart and cut her tendons, making her fingers limp and useless. But he didn’t. He had something more insidious in mind. “Now get in.”
Blinded by pain and the sudden flood of light, Jen obeyed. Her sunglasses lay smashed in the dirt. Disorientated and dazed, she stepped one leg after the other into the air-conditioned land cruiser. In the distance she heard a shot, then another, but they were soon drowned by rapid gunfire from the cabin of her waiting vehicle.
Esteban retrieved his rifle and peered cautiously toward the thermo-cells. “Where is he?” He looked through his scope, scouring the land for Dan.
“Next to the cells,” Adrian replied, wondering how many brittle sheets of thermo-plastic his bullets could penetrate.
“Don’t kill him,” Esteban ordered. His devilish mind had cooked a special recipe for Dan’s torment, a fitting punishment for causing his premature fieldwork retirement. Another .45 round twanged into the land cruiser’s chassis. “You understand? I don’t want him dead.”
*
Panic gripped Dan’s throat. He couldn’t see her anymore. Is she dead?There was something on the ground that couldhave been Jen and it sent a shrill spike of terror through his mind. He wished he had better cover than the flimsy thermo-cells. He eyed a dip in the ground ten metres away with desire. But they have automatics.He gave his Colt a disgusted look. It was practically useless at this range; he wasn’t that good a shot. More unnerving was the thought that if he kept firing he might accidentally kill Jen. He hugged the frame with a grimace and peered through a bullet hole punctured in the cell material.
It wasn’t the Raven. He had a vastly different operating pattern and always worked alone. But who is it?The question nagged at the back of his mind.
UniForce?He couldn’t think of anyone else who could assemble that much firepower so quickly.
He fired another two shots, giving Jen a wide berth, and was alarmed to hear one of his bullets strike metal. The wind was picking up, sending dust swirls to obscure his vision and make his trajectory unpredictable. The tiny particles of dirt stung his eyes and were gritty in his mouth, tasting like mud. He used the whirlwind as cover and dashed for the ditch, rolling into it with the all the grace and aplomb of a maimed elephant. But immediately he felt safer. A string of bullets thudded into the ground around his head and he hunkered low, giving them as little as possible to shoot at. He had a significant disadvantage. The last thing he wantedwas to harm Jen, so he didn’t want to risk returningfire. I’m a sitting duck.Dan punched the ground in frustration and peeked above his mound, praying they’d be foolish enough to close in on his position.
I’ve lost.The truth tasted like poison. He wondered how he’d erred so badly. And now my foolishness has cost Jen her life.
*
“He’s holed up pretty good.” Adrian massaged his trigger with the sensitive pad on his right index finger, gratified when the weapon recoiled once in response. He saw the clod of dirt kicked up through the swirl in the air and spat on the ground to clear the dust from his mouth.
“It doesn’t matter.” Esteban sneered. “We’ve got all we need.”
He pushed Jen roughly to her side on the backseat, enjoying her wince of pain. He reached for the long metal canister at her feet and pulled it free. It was light, made of high-polymer plastics and strengthened with ribbons of aluminium. He mounted the weapon on his shoulder and pressed the activation button, which caused the scope to drop from its recess. He closed his other eye, concentrating on the aim. He targeted Dan’s hollow and jammed his thumb on the firing mechanism. With a flare of smoke, a grenade-like projectile rocketed from the gaping hole at the front of the canister. It wasn’t a lethal weapon, or wasn’t supposed to be, though sometimes people with a weak constitution succumbed to it. It arced blindly through the sky, buffeted by the winds in a haphazard dance that landed it five metres from Dan. Upon impact it detonated with a swirl of purple reagent, which quickly engulfed area. It was a biochemical gas used to subdue crowds, which had gained infamy during the riots of the ‘20s and ‘30s.
“Goodnight Daniel.” Esteban leered, lowering the single-shot rocket launcher.
“Can we go now?” Junior hung out the driver’s side window, agitated by the worsening dust storm and the potential for unfriendly fire. “I’m not fishing him out of that shit.”
“We don’t have to.” Esteban smiled again, marvelling at his genius. “His torture’s only just begun.” He clambered onto the backseat with Jen, slammed the door, and invited Junior to plant his foot on the accelerator.
Their balding tyres spun twice before gripping the loose surface and their transport lurched forward.
“Who are you?” Jen abandoned her attempt to sit up; the searing pain from the piano wire was too much.
Esteban raised an eyebrow and a jovial grin parted his lips. “You don’t recognise me?” He tossed his small-bore rifle into the trunk and tucked his Peacemaker into its holster.
“Should I?” Tears of pain were blurring her vision.
“It’ll come back to you.” Esteban’s laughter struck a chord of dread in the pit of Jen’s stomach. She heard tones of her death in his mirth. The land rover rocked when they rejoined the road, jarring her wrists with another snippet of pain.
“What do you want?” Jen braved the agony and squirmed to something that resembled a sitting position by leveraging herself against the opposite door.
He licked his lips. “I want to play with you for a while.” He ran a rough hand through her hair and pulled her head back until it struck the glass, bearing her slender neck for his inspection. He leant forward and caressed her skin with the tip of his nose as he inhaled deeply, savouring the smell.
Jen squirmed in revulsion but the wire snaring her wrists prevented her from retaliating. Her next words dripped with animosity. “You twisted fuck,” she spat. “Why don’t you just kill me?”
“Ah, Jennifer, you have me all wrong. I don’t intend to kill you.” Esteban released his fistful of hair and rubbed the back of his hand against the side of her breast.
Junior barked a laugh from the front and added, “Yet.”
*
The chemicals acting on Dan’s neurotransmitters distorted his image of the world. The tears streaming onto his cheeks weren’t helping either. And the twitch was getting worse, turning into a spasm. He pulled his tongue back into his mouth and clamped his jaw shut before rolling as far and as fast as he could. Purple.It was everywhere and he screwed his eyes shut to protect them from the potent sting. Purple?He was digging through his clouded memory to recall what that meant. Nerve toxin?He doubted it; he’d be dead already if it was. Besides, they’d fired it too close without protective equipment. Too risky, especially in this wind.
His lungs felt as if they were on fire and he gasped for air only to swallow more irritant. He kept rolling, trying to get clear of the purple screen. He held his breath until he nearly blacked out and when he next opened his eyes, all he could see was red Andamookan sand. A tiny whirlwind, or spinning-devil as Katherine had called them, was whipping the purple gas into a toxic funnel and spinning it in the opposite direction. Finally some good luck.Dan’s vision was hazy and he could barely focus on his Colt’s sights, let alone anyt
hing beyond. He fought unconsciousness and unwisely shook his head to clear the dizziness.
Everything spun.
The car?He couldn’t be sure. It looked closer than he remembered. And it’s black, not burgundy.He was aiming at his thermo-cells, the barrel of his Colt wobbling dangerously from side to side as he struggled to keep it still.
A wave of nausea rocked him when he swivelled to isolate the enemy from the swirl of blurry background. He chocked on the impulse to vomit but he’d ingested too much chemical and he emptied the contents of his stomach in an uncontrollable fit of retching. With a momentous effort, he staggered to his knees and waved his Colt in an arc, the bitter taste of vomit fresh on his tongue.
Gone.He couldn’t see properly but nothing resembled a four-wheel drive.
He fell to one side, unstable even on his knees, and landed in the sticky pool of his own vomit,smearingit across his clothes. The acrid smell in his nostrils evoked another gag but there was nothing left to come up.
Someone touched his shoulder and he spun wildly with a half-clenched fist, knocking him away. The chemical had also affected his ears and he couldn’t hear the screech of wind whipping sand against the thermo-cells or the reassuring shout from Cookie as he made another approach. It sounded as though he was underwater – everything distorted and muffled. Dan rasped for breath as though suffering from pulmonary emphysema. If he’d inhaled any more anti-riot chemical he would’ve asphyxiated despite its claim for non-lethality.
“It’s me!” Cookie shouted, loud enough to pierce his daze.
Dan vaguely wondered where he’d left his Colt as he allowed Cookie to drag him to his feet. There are two.Samantha helped on the other side, offering more support that he would have guessed possible from her slight frame. He entwined sickly fingers around their clothes and limped with them in a seemingly random direction. Why am I limping?His left knee was numb and he looked down to see whether it was still there, afraid the detonating canister had blown it off. He sported a nasty gash in is trousers and a trickle of blood had soaked down to his sock, but it wouldn’t leave him permanently disabled. From the roll.He’d sliced himself on one of the sharper rocks.
