Prime City: A Science Fiction Thriller (Neon Horizon Book 2)

by Michael Robertson

  Marcie jumped to a higher up balcony as the Gatling gun’s lasers ripped through the walls below her, chunks of brick and glass spraying back out into the courtyard.

  As Marcie jumped higher, the girl followed her, dragging a slow and destructive line up the building.

  Balcony to balcony, Ro Jo’s home being ripped to shreds, Marcie stayed one step ahead, now four storeys from the ground.

  A crackle in her ear. Marcie paused and pressed the right arm of her glasses as if it would help her hear better. “Hello?”

  Either the Eye or Slip tried to reply, but their words were distorted by whatever blocked their communication. The ceiling continued to close, casting more shadow on the courtyard. At least if it went totally dark, she’d have her night vision. She leaped for the next balcony, climbing another level higher as a barrage of blaster fire destroyed the one she’d just leaped from, the patio doors exploding with a deep splash!

  More of the army were finding their aim. Maybe twenty metres from one side of the courtyard to the other, Marcie leaped across the gap.

  At the apex of her jump, just a few metres below the closing shutters, the Eye’s voice broke through. “Marcie?”

  It vanished on the way down again, the blaster shots bursting and turning to fireworks against the underside of the metal shutters.

  Marcie landed on a seventh-floor balcony and took off again before the army could get her in their sights. Letting her microprocessor guide her, she jumped higher while the army tore their boss’ building to shreds.

  Up to the eighth floor, and then the ninth, another crackling hiss came through the earpiece. “What shall I do?” Marcie said.

  If the Eye heard her, his reply was blocked. The roof had closed about halfway.

  By the tenth floor, some of the gunfire died down. Had they run out or given up?

  “Marcie?”

  “Yes! I’m here. What shall I do?”

  The drone hovered above the building, shielding itself from gunfire behind one of the metal shutters. “The shutters are blocking off our comms.”

  On the eleventh floor now and moving around the outside, Marcie leaped for the next balcony along, clinging on and climbing into it. “I’d worked that out. How explosive are the explosives on the roof?”

  “I couldn’t tell you how many megatons. But they’ll blow if you go anywhere near them. Not only are they lining the roof, but they have them on the steel shutters too. Any pressure out here will turn half this building to dust.”

  Marcie clambered up to the twelfth and top floor.

  “Marcie, I know you don’t always listen to me, but please don’t—” A static hiss cut him off. The shutters were now about two-thirds of the way closed.

  On a balcony in the centre of the building, the gap in the shutters ran directly above Marcie across to the opposite side. A bar of freedom stretching the twenty metres from one side of the courtyard to the other. The gunfire continued to slam into the brickwork and steel shutters, but their blasts at this distance were woefully inaccurate. It must have been why some of them stopped shooting.

  Marcie emptied three small terracotta plant pots one after the other before stacking them under her arm. Crouched on the rail of the balcony, she jumped, exploding away from it, up through the narrowing slit of daylight, now above the shutters for the first time as they continued their slow yet inevitable closure.

  The crash of blaster fire hit steel as more of the army opened up again. Several shots flew through the gap into the sky.

  Level with the drone, the Eye came through again. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Halfway across the jump, Marcie spun full circle, her eyes picking out the explosives she’d already seen and the new ones on the steel shutters. On her second spin, she loosed the first plant pot. When she’d spun one hundred and eighty degrees, she loosed the next one.

  On her way down again, Marcie fixed on the balcony on the opposite side of the top floor. The first pot landed with a whomp that damn near tore the very fabric of the atmosphere. The second one detonated, but got hidden behind the thunderous boom of the first one’s explosion.

  Marcie threw the third plant pot at the patio door on the balcony she headed for. The pot shattered on impact. The door remained intact. “Shit!”

  Metres away, Marcie turned in the air so she hurtled at the door feet first. She drove a two-footed jackhammer kick against the window, shattering the glass and spraying it into the apartment beyond.

  Landing on the thousands of glistening pieces, sliding for several metres, Marcie transitioned into a flat-out sprint, shoulder barging the front door from its hinges.

  The building shook and groaned, the other explosives on the roof detonating, triggered by the first two. Marcie took to the stairs. Her ears rang from the explosions above, her legs pumping as she descended two steps at a time. A cloud of dust grew behind her, swelling into a stampeding demon on her tail. Fresh explosions continued ripping through the top floor.

  Her lungs tight from the dust behind catching up with her, Marcie broke from the stairwell, charged into the closest apartment, lifted a chair from the front room, and launched it through the patio window. The glass shattered moments before she burst through, stepping on the railing and leaping across the courtyard to the other side.

  Marcie dropped another three floors with her jump, a shower of masonry hailing down on the courtyard. When she landed on the other side, the large steel shutters—each one at least twenty metres wide by ten metres deep—came free. They let out a deep bestial yawn as they ripped away from the now devastated top of the building.

  A red target flashed through Marcie’s vision, tracing the path of a falling brick heading for her. The large steel shutters were several metres behind. She caught the brick, launched it through the patio door closest to her, and dived into the apartment as the shutters tumbled, tearing off a line of balconies, including the one she’d been on seconds before.

  “Marcie!”

  “I’m here.” She gasped for breath, her throat sore with all the brick dust. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

  “You need to get the fuck out of there now.”

  “Is the roof clear?” she said.

  “What roof?”

  “That’s good enough.”

  Back out the way she’d entered, Marcie’s eyes traced her path to the top. Several balconies still clung to the wrecked building.

  Marcie leaped from one balcony to the next, making her way back up the inside of the devastated apartment block. The gunfire had stopped, the two shutters lying at awkward angles across the courtyard. The only soldiers who would have survived were the ones who made it out.

  The top of the building a torn mess, Marcie jumped clear of the apartments and filled her lungs with the fresher air, the police drone hovering in front of her face as she landed on top of the wreckage.

  “You’re amazing, kid,” the Eye said. “I couldn’t see how you were going to get out of there. But now you have to move. I saw Ro Jo escaping and have put a tracker on him.” A red arrow appeared in her vision. “You need to hunt him down.”

  Chapter 35

  A tile popped beneath Marcie’s step as she tore across the roof of a low apartment block. The police drone piloted by the Eye flew away in the opposite direction, but the large red arrow insisted she continue on her current path. “Where are you going?”

  “To abandon the drone,” the Eye said. “It’s not exactly subtle, and we don’t need any unwanted attention.”

  Marcie landed on the roof of a house, Ro Jo nowhere to be seen. “And you’re sure you’ve got him tagged?”

  “Yep, just follow the arrow.”

  Her feet twisting and turning as she managed the pitched roofs, Marcie closed in on the edge of the estate, a gap of about thirty metres between her and the next building. She could have gone to ground. Instead, she leaped while Slip shouted, “Jeez!” with every jump.

  The streetlamp she used as a stepping stone bent when sh
e kicked off from it. A large warehouse her destination, she caught the edge of the roof, pulled herself up, and took off again.

  The warehouse had a flat roof like many of the buildings in Scala City. White gravel crunched beneath her steps. The next gap about half the width of the one she’d just crossed, Marcie kicked off from the corner of the building, landing with a spray of stones. “I should have brought my flying suit with me.”

  “You’re doing great, kid,” the Eye said, the red arrow swelling to show she’d made up ground on her target.

  “You’re back, then?”

  “Yep. And the drone’s none the wiser.”

  “Do you think Ro Jo knew we were coming? He seemed well prepared.”

  “I think he knew someone was coming,” the Eye said. “While he’s not the largest bounty in the city, his price isn’t insubstantial either, and there are too many hunters looking to earn a living. Also, he made an enemy of the poor with his social cleansing of some of the city’s more desirable areas, and now even the politicians hate him. He’s a man with few friends. The only problem is, you have just over an hour before your visa runs out.”

  The red display shone through Marcie’s skin, backing up what the Eye said. “I’d best work fast, then, eh?”

  The commercial buildings grew progressively higher as she tore across their rooftops. Ten storeys, fifteen, twenty. Much higher and she’d be ducking the vehicles in the skylanes.

  A large plaza opened up ahead. Marcie needed to get to the opposite side. If she went to ground, the crowds would hold her up, and to run around the building’s skirting would take too long.

  “Don’t even think about it,” the Eye said.

  But she had no other choice. Without missing a step, Marcie kicked off from the edge of the final building. She had the judgement even if she didn’t have the wings. Three steps across the roof of a nearby yellow taxi, she took off again to an angry blare of a horn and landed on a people carrier with a family of four inside. The boom of her foot against the roof made a small child scream, but she left its distress behind. Three more cars in her path, her microprocessor made the calculations. Each car shook when she hit it. A black sports car, a small one-person vehicle that looked more like a floating coffin, and another family wagon. Every car beeped at her. The gravel sprayed up from her landing, and she fought for breath as she transitioned into a flat-out sprint on the path of a now much larger arrow.

  “Don’t do that again without your wings,” the Eye said.

  “My calculations are good enough.”

  Before the Eye could weigh in again, Slip said, “Wings?”

  Marcie turned a hard right when the arrow shifted, moving to an office block, the gravel roof littered with skylights. “In Scala City, I had a suit that made me look like a flying squirrel. It had wings, so when I stretched out my arms and legs, I could ride the wind. It was useful as a safety blanket if I fell.”

  “How often did you fall?”

  “Once or twice.”

  “Which is why I’m saying you shouldn’t do it,” the Eye said. “But it’s done now. At your current pace, I reckon it’ll take you five more minutes to catch Ro Jo. At what point are you going to call this bounty lost?”

  “If I give up on this one, Mads won’t give me another.”

  “She’s right,” Slip said. “He won’t.”

  “Whose side are you on?” the Eye said. “We can’t let her visa run out.”

  Another main street, not as wide as the one before. Boom! Marcie hit the roof of another car and landed on the next block. Now at least forty storeys from the ground, she turned left, following the arrow’s direction. She landed on the roof of a nearby tower block, this one taking her about ten storeys lower. She needed to be closer to the ground to catch Ro Jo.

  The next building Marcie landed on stretched away from her for several hundred metres. There must have been scores of shops and houses beneath. Shaped like a wedge, she’d landed on the widest part. The arrow guided her towards the tip.

  Marcie’s legs pumped, carrying her quicker than any organic limbs could run. She moved over to the right side of the wedge, the street below packed with bodies. Five red targets, they moved as a unit through the crowd, shoving and barging people out of the way. “We’ve got some crewcuts down there. I’m guessing they’re chasing Ro Jo too.”

  “The exploding tower block probably helped alert them to his whereabouts,” the Eye said.

  The roof dotted with domed skylights, Marcie hopped over them on her way to the other side. Four red targets below. “The jocks are on it too.”

  “Which ones will you take on?” Slip said.

  “Neither.” Marcie continued towards the tip of the wedge. The arrow pointed down from where it clearly sat above Ro Jo. He’d stopped.

  Marcie skidded to a halt at the end of the tip. A wave of white gravel leaped over the side of the building, several people below screaming at the assault from the hard stones. She pulled away before anyone saw her. A few seconds later, she crept back to the edge. Ro Jo had stopped. He had six minders with him.

  “What’s he doing?” the Eye said.

  Marcie shrugged. “Maybe he’s waiting for someone to meet him?”

  Slip laughed. “Probably not the crewcuts and jocks.”

  The red targets on Marcie’s right showed the crewcuts had reached him first. Of course they had. The jocks were all style and no substance.

  Ro Jo released a porcine squeal and pointed at the crewcuts. His guards burst into action, charging to meet them. The people in the streets cleared a path.

  Another squeal, Ro Jo shrieked, “There’s more of the fuckers on this side.”

  Only six guards, three of them broke off, abandoning the fight with the crewcuts to fend off the jocks.

  A fire escape led down the side of the building. Although Marcie could have jumped to the ground, it would have attracted too much attention. The black metal walkway clanged when she landed on it. The entire thing shook as she took the stairs two at a time.

  Two stories from the ground, Marcie vaulted over the railing and landed in front of Ro Jo. The man squealed for a third time, but before he could call for help, Marcie punched him in his fat throat.

  While the guards and bounty hunters fought, Marcie dragged the gasping Ro Jo away. She spoke through clenched teeth. “Know I can punch much harder than that if I need to.” And then to the Eye, “Where do I drop him?”

  The Eye changed the arrow she’d been following to blue. “It’s the nearest police station.”

  A second later, the flashing blue light of a police drone appeared around the corner, closing in on the bounty hunters fighting Ro Jo’s minders. The Eye said, “I’ll buy you some more time with this drone.”

  Marcie fell through the police station’s front door into their foyer, gasping from where she’d had to drag the fat swine the whole way. She spoke in between gasps. “I have a bounty.”

  The officer at the desk—a young man with slicked-back hair and a goatee—raised an eyebrow at her before pointing to a row of seats. “Wait there.”

  “What the hell?” Slip said.

  The timer on Marcie’s arm had just gone past forty-five minutes. She took her seat. “Where’s the Eye?”

  The officer behind the desk looked up again, an amber target appearing around him.

  “He’s still piloting the police drone,” Slip said. “He’s making sure the bounty hunters are moved on.”

  Marcie nodded, leaned back in the plastic chair she’d chosen, and wiped her sweating brow. As of yet, the puce-faced Ro Jo had kept his thoughts to himself.

  Forty-four minutes and forty-two seconds remained on her visa.

  “You’ve got to make a decision soon, Marcie.” The Eye had come back to her. “I can’t find a route back to the Black Hole that’s any less than forty minutes.”

  The timer on her arm now said forty-one minutes and thirty-two seconds. The man with the goatee cleared his throat. It echoed through the
large foyer. “Ro Jo. We’ve been looking for this snake.”

  Ro Jo muttered an unintelligible grumble of discontent that included a sound along the lines of ‘harumph’ and several utterances of the word ‘bloody’.

  The officer added, “I’ve got a lot of people here who want to talk to him about his policies on policing.”

  “Tell them to hurry up, Marcie,” the Eye said.

  “I don’t know what the police are like where you’re from,” Slip said, “but the police in Prime City and the Black Hole move at whatever pace they damn well choose. The more you hurry them, the slower they’ll go.”

  “You’re going to have to make a choice soon, Marce,” the Eye said.

  But Marcie couldn’t leave. Not if she wanted to get any more work from Mads. She bit the inside of her cheek so hard, the coppery taste of her own blood spread through her mouth. They’d wondered what would happen when her visa ran out. It looked like they wouldn’t have to wait long to get their answer.

  Chapter 36

  “You’ve got no chance of getting there in time,” the Eye said.

  The red digits on Marcie’s forearm told her she had thirty-two minutes and six seconds left. “How does that change the fact that I have to get out of here? Rather than being the harbinger of doom, how about you show me the quickest way to the immigration gate?”

  A green arrow popped up in her vision.

  “Finally! It’s like you don’t want me to get back to the Black Hole.” Marcie ducked down a quiet alley and used the opposing walls to leap from one to the other to get to the roofs.

  The sky had turned a deep burned orange from the setting sun. Clouds of condensation billowed in front of Marcie as she ran, and the cold wind burned her nose and ears. Whether she’d make it in time or not, she had to get out.

  “At least you’ve been paid,” Slip said.