Samson didn’t reply, opting instead, to dump his lifeless load at Steiner’s feet.
No sooner had Samson let him go than the child sprang up, making to flee once more. Samson’s arm struck out like an uncoiling viper, his cat-like reflexes snuffing out the boy’s escape plan in the blink of an eye.
‘Let me go!’ The child struggled against Samson’s unyielding grip, his limbs and body contorting wildly in an attempt to break free.
Samson placed a hand over the bedraggled boy’s mouth and knelt down to his eye level. The colonel’s mask-like helmet, emanating an eerie green glow, must have been a terrifying sight to behold for one so young.
‘Be quiet, boy,’ Samson said, pulling out a long serrated bowie knife, which he then held in front of the child’s terrified eyes, ‘or I’ll make sure you stay silent – permanently.’
‘Leave him be, Colonel,’ Steiner said in his most authoritative tone, placing a hand on the boy’s small shoulder and moving to stand in front of him, shielding him from Samson’s monstrous form.
Samson stood up, towering over Steiner and their new companion. ‘You’d risk our mission for a child?’ Samson’s voice was cutting. ‘He’ll be dead like everyone else soon enough; in fact he might even be better off dying now, considering what’s to come.’
‘Life is still life, Colonel, regardless of its longevity. I’ll look after the boy if you’re so worried about him.’
Samson stared down at Steiner, the faceless visor concealing his expression. ‘Fine, but if he becomes a problem I won’t hesitate to do what’s necessary.’
‘You’ll do as I command, Colonel, and you won’t touch another hair on this child’s head. Do you understand me? Not a hair!’
Samson grunted and lent down, extending his shrouded face towards Steiner’s own. ‘If you think you’re still in control, old man, you’re mistaken. Keep the infant close; he’s your responsibility now.’
Reclaiming his rifle, Samson stood aside and motioned for Steiner and the boy to lead on, and lead on they did. The rain had slowed now, the storm shifting its position northwest as the troop of three headed east, away from Steadfast and the U.S. military that guarded its exits. Despite the passing of the tempest, the night sky remained oppressive, its starless nature a poignant reminder as to the ever present dust cloud drifting in the upper atmosphere high above them.
‘We need shelter,’ Samson told Steiner after they’d walked another half mile. ‘They’re sending out more drones and helicopters from Fort Bliss to search the area.’
‘How do you know that?’ Steiner picked his way with care through a dense section of brush, the small lad close on his heels.
‘A marine was kind enough to let me borrow his radio. I patched into their feed. I don’t get all communications, but enough to improve our chances of evasion.’
‘There is no shelter.’ Steiner felt desperation rising. ‘We’re still miles from the Darklight compound. If we’re caught out here they’ll kill us all where we stand.’
‘I know a place,’ a timid voice spoke up.
Samson turned his torch light onto the young boy’s face; he blinked against the sudden brightness, his pupils contracting while drops of rain trickled down his face.
Steiner bent down on one knee, giving the boy what he hoped was a friendly smile. ‘What’s your name? Mine’s George.’
The child glanced at Samson looking fearful.
‘Don’t worry about him.’ Steiner gave Samson a stern stare. ‘He’s just a nasty bully. Do you have any bullies at your school?’
The boy nodded mutely.
‘And what have your parents told you to do when dealing with a bully?’
‘My father says I must stand up to them,’ the boy said, regaining confidence at the mention of his parent.
‘That’s right,’ Steiner said encouragingly. ‘A bully is a coward, we all know that, don’t we, Colonel?’
Samson gave a growl. ‘Don’t push your luck.’
Steiner laughed, trying to show he wasn’t scared by Samson’s threats. ‘See, he’s not so scary is he?’
‘Kuruk,’ the boy said, ‘my name’s Kuruk.’
‘Kuruk,’ Steiner repeated, pleased he’d managed to get him to open up. ‘Do you know somewhere we can hide, Kuruk, a building maybe?’
Kuruk nodded his head again. ‘There’s a barn not far from here, I go there to play sometimes.’
‘Does it have a storm shelter?’ Samson said.
Kuruk looked to Steiner, still clearly afraid of the colonel. Steiner raised his eyebrows and smiled once more, conscious that forces from Fort Bliss closed on their location.
‘Yes,’ Kuruk said.
Steiner brushed raindrops from his glasses. ‘Can you take us there?’
‘Uh-huh.’ Kuruk held out his hand which Steiner took. ‘This way,’ he said, pulling Steiner in the opposite direction to the one in which they’d been headed.
It wasn’t long before a rickety, high-sided barn inched into sight out of the darkness. Its walls had seen better days, with planks of wood hanging off in places, exposing the interior to the elements. Steiner pulled at the double doors. They were locked. Samson lashed out with a heavy boot, splintering the wood with ease and sending both doors swinging inwards.
Steiner went to walk inside but Samson had gone stock still, blocking his way with an outstretched arm.
‘Colonel?’ Steiner said.
Samson held up a hand for quiet. ‘Someone’s approaching,’ he said, after a moment’s pause, ‘get inside.’
Steiner did as he was told, guiding Kuruk along with him. The Colonel must have picked up a signal on the radar system built into his helmet’s HUD. This technology always seemed to Steiner to give its user the impression they possessed some kind of precognitive ability. It’s just as well it does, considering our current predicament, Steiner thought.
At that moment a voice could be heard, calling out into the night.
‘Kuruk! Kuruk, where are you?!’
‘Father?’ Kuruk pulled against Steiner’s hold. ‘Father!’
The boy slipped beyond Steiner’s reach, turned on a torch he’d been keeping hidden and headed for the exit. Simultaneously the barn doors swung open to reveal a Native American man holding a shotgun.
‘Drop it!’ Samson’s voice came from out of the shadows, halting Kuruk in his tracks.
The Apache Indian bent down, placed his weapon on the damp dusty floor and then stood back up, arms raised. Samson’s translucent shape hovered in Kuruk’s torchlight, the beam appearing to bend as the rays came into contact with the armour’s individual panels.
‘Who are you people?’ the man said, his arms encircling his son protectively.
Samson, his assault rifle trained on the newcomer, deactivated his active camouflage and walked round to stand next to Steiner, while Kuruk hugged his father around the waist.
Steiner moved forwards. ‘We mean you no harm.’
‘Your friend doesn’t appear to agree with you.’
‘Lower your gun, Colonel,’ Steiner said, ‘they’re not a threat.’
The imposing weapon dipped towards the floor, Samson perhaps seeing the sense in Steiner’s request.
‘Sir, we need your help,’ Steiner said to Kuruk’s father.
‘I’m no sir, but you may call me Norroso.’
‘Norroso, I need your help, it is a matter of extreme importance. Many lives depend on my actions and perhaps now, on yours too. People are looking for us and we need a place to hide, or better still some transport.’
The Apache considered Steiner’s heartfelt request, seemingly undaunted by the situation that faced him. ‘My people come to me for advice,’ Norroso said, his tone conversational. ‘They tell me things they have done. They ask me if the spirits of our forefathers see their deeds. I tell them if they are worried then their actions are shameful. If they are hopeful they need not be troubled. Do you know what my people are called?’
Steiner shook his hea
d; the man’s measured yet abstract words almost hypnotic in their effect.
‘We go by many names,’ Norroso continued his narrative. ‘Jicarilla Apache, Native American, or in days past the white man called us the Red Indian. But we are to ourselves the Tinde, or Dinde, the People. Our brothers from the plains name us Kinya-Inde, people who live in fixed houses. Tan-nah-shis-en, men of the woodland. Keop-tagui, mountain Apache and many more. But we have another name, a little used name, Haisndayin, which translates as people who came from below. We are descended from the first peoples to leave the underworld, the ancestors of mankind. Our history is passed down from generation to generation, unaltered through song and verse.’
Fascinated, Steiner listened, all the time wondering what the man was leading up to.
After Norroso had let his words sink in he began again. ‘You have led man back to the underworld in our time of darkness,’ Norroso said. ‘Beneath the earth is our true nature. We belong to the land as the land belongs to us.’
Is he indicating he knows we are from Steadfast? Steiner wondered. It certainly seemed that way. The GMRC were aware of certain theories about underground facilities that circulated amongst minority groups around the world; these tales of fancy had been around long before the Subterranean Programme had even existed. Was it so surprising that their secret was more transparent than they’d previously thought? After all, aboriginal peoples, still living off the land, were always more in touch with their surroundings than those living in modernity.
‘We are kindred spirits, you and I,’ Norroso told Steiner. ‘If I can help you, I will. Come, follow me.’
The Apache turned, his long braided hair, separated into twin tassels on either side of his head, swaying across his proud chest as he moved.
‘Stop!’ Samson’s gun surged up as the man reached out to open the doors which had swung closed.
Norroso looked back, shaking his head he moved Kuruk out of harm’s way. ‘If you mean to shoot me, man of mist,’ he said, holding out his arms to provide Samson with a perfect target, ‘shoot now and return me to our creator.’
‘Put your weapon down, man,’ Steiner said, his tone hushed. ‘Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.’
Samson lowered the rifle again, but only when Steiner moved between it and the Apache, bisecting his line of sight.
Norroso and Kuruk took this as their cue to move back outside.
‘Are you coming?’ Steiner asked the colonel.
Samson strode forward to pick up Norroso’s discarded firearm. ‘Are you buying this cryptic bullshit?’
‘We need this man’s help,’ Steiner said, keeping his voice low, ‘and if he wants to help us, I don’t particularly care what he says. Now let’s go before he changes his mind.’
Samson didn’t reply, but his silence spoke volumes as he followed Steiner out of the ramshackle building. With Norroso in the lead, the group of four moved with haste through a selection of trails that criss-crossed the hidden landscape. In less than a quarter of an hour they approached a small huddle of buildings, the windows of one brimming with a warm yellow light which flooded out onto the damp veranda that surrounded it.
Norroso mounted the steps that led up to his house.
‘Stop!’ Samson said.
‘You wanted a means to travel, did you not?’ The big Apache pointed to a row of stables across from the house. ‘I need to unlock the outbuilding over yonder, and to do that I need keys.’
‘You wait here, with me,’ the Colonel said to Norroso. ‘You,’ he gestured to Steiner, ‘go in with the boy.’
Steiner took Kuruk’s hand in his own after Norroso nodded to the lad to indicate he should go with Steiner.
‘Be quick about it,’ Samson said, before Steiner and the boy disappeared inside. ‘They’ll be here soon.’
The door closed behind the professor, Samson’s warning that the reinforcements from Fort Bliss were on their way at the forefront of his mind, the need for urgency essential.
Steiner had little time to take in the warm surroundings of Kuruk’s home as the young boy rushed to the other side of the room, picked up a set of keys and returned to Steiner to deposit them in his hand.
‘You won’t let the demon hurt my father will you, George?’ Kuruk’s eyes searched Steiner’s face for reassurance.
The question and Kuruk’s fearful expression made Steiner feel awful. ‘You have my word,’ Steiner said, while praying he could keep a rein on Samson’s actions.
Kuruk, only nine or ten years old, seemed to accept Steiner’s words and opened the door so the team of two could return outside. Steiner handed the keys to Norroso, who then led them to the end section of the building he’d previously mentioned. Putting his shoulder against the edge of the door, Norroso pushed it to one side, the thick timber panel sliding on a set of metal rails with a great screeching groan. The air that had been trapped inside wafted out, the smell of fresh manure and hay unmistakable.
Norroso, now using his son’s torch, shone a light over a thick mud splattered white sheet, which covered a bulky shape in the gloom. With a quick tug, Norroso pulled the cover free to reveal a glossy, deep red, thirty year old pick-up truck. Steiner gaped at the huge alloy wheels that sparkled in the shadows, their thick knobbly off-road tyres setting off the imposing front grille and bull bars of the AEV Dodge Ram expedition vehicle.
‘Wow,’ Steiner said in awe.
Norroso mustered a chuckle at Steiner’s surprise. ‘What did you expect, a horse?’
‘I always wanted one of these.’ Steiner stroked the pristine metal panelling with a gentle caress.
‘Does it have fuel?’ Samson asked, bypassing Steiner, opening a door and climbing into the driver’s seat.
‘It’s a hybrid. I had it converted. The rear tray acts like a tip-up truck, too, a special mechanism I added myself, and it does have gas in, yes.’
Steiner opened the passenger door and pulled himself up into the mechanical beast. Norroso put his foot onto the door sill and leaned inside to flick down the vanity mirror, dropping a set of keys into Steiner’s lap. Samson snatched them up, inserted the key into the ignition and turned her over. The engine roared into life.
‘Norroso, I don’t know how to thank you.’ Steiner closed the door and wound down the electric window. ‘People may come and ask questions; it would be a good idea if you weren’t here when they do.’
‘May is not will,’ Norroso said, ‘but if they come we know less than nothing, only that someone stole our truck. Isn’t that so, Kuruk?’
Kuruk nodded at his father’s behest.
Samson selected first gear from the manual gearbox and instantly stalled it, giving Steiner the opportunity to get back out of the vehicle.
‘What are you doing?!’ Samson restarted the truck.
Steiner took Norroso’s hand in both his own. ‘You have trusted me so far, God only knows why. I must return the favour. In eight months’ time this whole area will be destroyed. I can’t tell you why or how, but you must take your family far away from here, the eastern states if you can. Do you understand? This place is no longer safe for you.’
Norroso looked at Steiner with sad eyes. ‘We can leave our home as much as our home can leave us.’
Steiner didn’t think the man would just up and leave his ancestors’ land on his say so; why would he? they’d only just met, after all. It hadn’t stopped him trying, though, which at least gave him some small comfort. Able to stay no longer, Steiner ruffled Kuruk’s bushy black hair and then, with a final despairing look at Norroso, got back into the pick-up. Samson gunned the accelerator and the vehicle lurched forwards, its wide tyres thrusting them out into the open air.
The main headlights ablaze, the truck soon breached the outer fence of the smallholding but rather than continue Samson hit the brakes, sending them into a four wheel skid. Stopped, Samson made to get out, but Steiner caught his arm.
‘Where are you going?’
‘They’ve seen us,’ Samson s
aid by way of explanation.
‘So?’
‘You think Joiner won’t have his agents scour this whole area in case anyone escaped?’
‘So help me, God, Colonel, if you kill those people, I will turn you in at my first opportunity.’
Samson hesitated, Steiner’s conviction compelling him to reconsider.
Steiner’s eyes blazed with an unquenchable fire. ‘Do not doubt me, Colonel.’
Samson closed the door and pressed a button on the side of his helmet to retract the visor and face plate, his own gaze no less potent. ‘Very well, but remember this moment; you owe me now.’
With that Samson re-engaged his visor and floored the accelerator. The tail of the truck swung out as it slid from the gravel and bounced up onto a tarmac road. Now thundering along, they quickly reached an intersection. Samson slowed down as they approached and Steiner squinted out of the windscreen at the road signs ahead.
‘We need to head east to the Darklight compound,’ Steiner told him. ‘We might be able to pick up more equipment there and get some support from any soldiers manning it.’
Samson turned left onto the highway.
‘Where are you going?’ Steiner said. ‘We needed to take a right; you’re going the wrong way!’
‘Change of plan.’ Samson drove at high speed down Route 64 in the wrong direction.
‘What? What do you mean, change of plan?! There is only one plan!!’
‘There’s something else we need to do before we help the people in Steadfast.’
‘There is nothing more important than that.’ Steiner swivelled around in his seat as if he could see their intended destination retreating before his eyes through the rear window.
‘There is for me,’ Samson said, ‘and you’re going to help me do it.’
‘Like hell I will!’
‘If you don’t, the people in Steadfast are already dead. Help me and I guarantee, afterwards, I will do everything possible to get those left behind in Steadfast to safety. Besides, you owe me, unless I should go back and deal with that loose end?’ Samson slowed their travel with the brake pedal.
Steiner cursed Samson to the four winds, struggling to get his intense anger and frustration back under control. ‘What do you need me to do?’ he said at last, aware that Samson held all the cards.
2041 Sanctuary (Dark Descent) Page 34
