“Forget this. I don’t want it.” The Enforcer’s patience gave out, and he reached out angrily for Knile’s collar.
Knile moved like lightning, swaying under the outstretched hand of the Enforcer and lunging for the .40-cal on his thigh. The constable responded by swinging his other arm downward protectively, knocking the weapon away as Knile plucked it from the holster. The gun flew through the air and clattered to the floor.
Knile twisted his body and kicked out, trying to stay out of the Enforcer’s grasp. The man gripped a handful of Knile’s shirt and swung his fist, delivering a glancing blow to the side of Knile’s face. The impact of it was like being hit by a sledgehammer. Knile reeled and somehow pulled free of his grasp.
He turned to see the Enforcer bearing down on him, a ball of angry muscle. Knile danced out of reach in the nick of time. The Enforcer tried unsuccessfully to snare him twice more before coming to a standstill, re-evaluating his plan as he stood panting and pushing back the hair from his brow.
Knile motioned with his hands. “C’mon. Come and get me.”
The Enforcer sneered again and reached for the radio at his belt instead to call for backup. Knile saw his chance to claim the .40-cal and got moving, scampering across the floor to where it lay, and the Enforcer responded in kind, lumbering forward to intercept him. The two collided and the gun was kicked away again by an errant boot. The Enforcer swung a fist at him and Knile evaded it easily. With the man overbalanced, Knile swung around behind the Enforcer and slipped his arm around his neck. With the other hand he drew a shiv adroitly from his belt and pressed it firmly against the Enforcer’s exposed neck.
The Enforcer grunted in surprise, then went still and rigid, his hands held in the air to show his compliance.
“That’s right, don’t fucking move a muscle,” Knile warned coolly. “You know why? Because this here is one of my favourite things in this world. It’s a shiv I made myself. Just a piece of shaped bone, mind you, but it cuts. Cuts real nice, right through whatever I need – wires and ropes, skin. Muscle.” He drew the edge of the shiv closer to the man’s neck, letting him feel the sharpness of it. “Doesn’t set off metal detectors, either.”
“Yeah, okay,” the Enforcer gasped. “You got me.”
“So here’s what we’re going to do. You and me–”
Knile stopped at the booming sound of a door closing somewhere deeper inside the level. It reverberated through the dimly lit corridors ominously.
“Company,” the Enforcer said, a note of satisfaction in his voice.
Knile glanced back at the elevator, but the doors had shut and it was currently descending to the lower levels again. There was no time to wait for another. He also noted that the woman had disappeared during the melee, and for a moment he wondered if it had been her who had closed the door deeper inside the level as she made her escape.
Then he heard footsteps. Heavy boots. They were coming this way.
Knile slipped his free hand down and twisted the Enforcer’s arm painfully behind his back, manoeuvring him across the corridor and into the toilet block across the other side. He pulled the constable past the urinals and the three stalls along the wall, into the narrow space behind the last partition. As the footsteps grew louder Knile pressed the shiv even tighter.
“You make even one sound and I’ll bury this thing in your neck so far it’ll disappear,” he hissed.
A moment later the toilet door opened and a group of men entered. From the sound of the voices, Knile figured there was at least two of them, possibly three. They stopped a short distance away, unseen behind the stalls.
Knile’s grip tightened and the Enforcer tensed under him.
“You need to get yourself on bumpkin patrol,” one of the men said. There was the sound of a zipper and then he began to empty his bladder noisily into the urinal.
“Yeah?” a second man said. “What the hell is that?”
“You just stand there and watch as the Grovers unload their goodies downstairs. Make sure no one flogs anything. If you’re smart about it, you can bag yourself some sweet nosh.”
“Really?”
“Oh, hell yeah. I scored a few oranges a week or two back. Tastes better than anything they grow up in the greenhouses, man. I can guarantee you that.”
“I haven’t eaten an orange in years.”
“Tell me about it. And you know what would be even better? If you could actually get a job as one of the gardeners. Fuckers must eat like kings.”
“Nah, forget about it. I bet you have to be real smart to get a job like that.”
One of the men zipped up and waited for the other to finish.
“You kidding me? Damn green thumbs are dumber than a sack of watermelons.”
“Hah, really?”
“Shit, yeah. You just have to know someone who can get you in.”
“Count me out, then, man. I’ve got no one.” The splashing slowed to a dribble and then stopped, and the men began to walk away.
“Say, what’s a watermelon?”
The men raised their voices over the sound of the faucets as they washed their hands.
“You for real?”
The Enforcer under Knile’s grip struggled for an instant before Knile dug the blade in deeper at his throat, signalling his intentions loud and clear. The Enforcer went still, breathing heavily. Sweat from his neck was making Knile’s grip on the blade slippery.
“Yeah, I’m for real. Is it some kind of container for carrying water?”
“It’s a vegetable, numbnuts, like an oversized potato. Or at least it was, until they went extinct. You can’t find ’em anymore.”
“So did they grow in the ocean or something? Where’s the water part come into it…?”
They banged through the door and left, their voices receding to nothing a few moments later, but the sound of their boots continued for another thirty seconds or so. Then the door boomed shut in the distance again and Knile breathed a sigh of relief.
“Let me go,” the Enforcer said hoarsely. “I… I won’t tell anyone.”
“Get moving,” Knile said, pushing away from the wall. He marched the man toward the door, trying to figure out how he was going to neutralise him. He didn’t want to kill him, of that much he was certain. If he could find some rope or some cable he would be able to tie him up, and then–
They pushed through the door and were greeted by a deafening roar, the muzzle of a gun flashing and snarling like a thunderclap. The round took the Enforcer in his armoured chest and Knile fell away with a startled cry, landing on the tiled floor in front of the urinals. There was another blast, then another and another. Knile covered his face protectively with his arms, curling into a fetal position as the barrage continued, the noise so loud that he was certain the mirrors above the basins would shatter. The Enforcer fell backward and landed heavily beside him, where he lay motionless with a bullet hole in his cheek. Blood oozed from the wound and began to pool on the tiles.
Knile looked back toward the door to see the woman standing in the threshold, the .40-cal held at her side. She stared at the Enforcer numbly.
“You won’t ever touch me again, you piece of shit,” she said, her voice quavering.
Knile held up his hand, palm outward. “I’m not with him.”
She seemed to notice Knile for the first time, her eyes drifting over to him as if she were in some sort of fugue state.
“You should go,” she said distantly. She brushed a strand of straggly brown hair away from her cheek, and Knile could see a fresh bruise there.
“They’re going to be here any second,” Knile warned, replacing the shiv into a secret sheath under his belt as he got up. “You can’t stay here.”
“You should go,” she said again, and then she walked calmly outside and stood in the corridor, staring down as if waiting for someone. “They won’t touch me again, either. None of them.”
Knile edged past her, hearing a commotion in the distance already. He was about to sa
y something, but the look on the woman’s face told him not to waste his time. He ran back to the elevators and furiously thumped on the call button, watching the numbers on the display slowly rising.
The booming sound of the door could be heard again, and there were footsteps in the corridor. This time, there were a lot more than two.
“C’mon, c’mon!” Knile hissed. He could hear the elevator shuddering upward from below, getting closer every second.
Voices called out, barking orders. The sound of boots on concrete grew louder.
The elevator arrived and the doors crept open at a snail’s pace. Knile squeezed inside and hit the button for Level Thirty-Nine, then hammered the door close button enough times to make his fingers hurt.
As the doors slid closed again, Knile saw the woman standing still and resolute, waiting, the .40-cal at her side. He hadn’t noticed before how waif-like she was, how fragile. She glanced over her shoulder at him and he could see from the desolation in her eyes that, just like him, she was ready to leave this world – just not in the way he intended.
The doors closed and the elevator squealed and ground its way upward. Seconds later there was the sound of gunfire, a volley of shots that seemed to go on and on for the longest time, the clamour chasing him up the shaft and thudding into the carriage like angry beasts. The sound of human voices could be heard as well, but the words dissolved amid the chaos, and Knile could make out none of what was said.
Then there was silence below, the echo of the last gunshot fading away in the recesses of the elevator shaft like a ghoul returning to the depths of hell. Knile closed his eyes and slumped against the wall, nerve endings jangling, and the elevator continued upward into the darkness.
13
The pigeon bobbed its head and cooed inanely, strutting across the ledge as it surveyed the people huddled not far below. It paused for a moment to pick at something at its feet, then continued on its way.
Alton Wilt glared up at it balefully. “If you defecate on me I’ll rip your head off,” he stated.
The old man in front of Alton turned, a disconcerted look on his weathered face.
“Uh, yeah. I’ll keep that in mind, pal.”
Alton gave him a flat stare. “Turn around, if you don’t mind. When I have something to say to you, you’ll know about it.”
The old man bristled. “Hey, none of us like waiting in line. No need to be an ass.”
Alton said nothing, and the man turned back toward the gate. There were still around ten people ahead of them waiting to gain entry into the Reach. Time was wasting away as this procession moved at a glacial pace, and although Alton was frustrated by the delay, he knew that there was nothing he could do about it.
“He’s not coming,” Tucker said beside him. “The prick. I knew it.”
“He’ll come,” Alton said. “He has to.”
“Do you think the mark is already inside?” Tucker said. “This Knile Oberend?”
“Maybe. It doesn’t matter.”
“Sure, it matters. He could be halfway up the Reach by now.”
“So? He’s not going anywhere until his ride arrives.” Alton checked his holophone. “That’s still thirty-one hours away, give or take.”
“That’s still not much time for us to coordinate our resources, boss.”
“Have faith, Tucker,” Alton said, spying movement at the front of the line. “Things are looking up.”
There was a commotion near the gate, and then a burly man came striding through the throng of bystanders, stopping before Alton, his cheeks red. Dark sweat stains created unsightly ovals under his armpits, marring his grey suit, and his hair was matted to one side as if he’d just woken up.
“You,” the man said, pointing at Alton. “Come with me.”
“Him too,” Alton said, indicating to Tucker beside him.
“What? Oh, hell no.” The man shook his head emphatically.
Alton stood unmoving, resolute.
The man opened his mouth to protest again, but then became aware of the strange glances that were being directed at him from those waiting in line. He looked about awkwardly and sighed, making a furtive movement with his hand.
“Come on, then,” he said, clearing his throat as he tried to project an air of authority. “Both of you will be coming with me.”
Tucker and Alton followed the man, pushing through the crowd and earning themselves a barrage of complaints and cusses for skipping ahead. Alton simply smiled magnanimously as he moved along, while Tucker glared at those around him as if he were prepared to gut them on the spot.
They reached the gate and stood before the Enforcers on duty, who stared at the man, nonplussed.
“What’s going on, Cuskelly?” one of them said, completing his inspection of a woman’s ID and allowing her through.
“I’m taking these two in for questioning, Grayson,” Cuskelly said. “Important business.”
Grayson looked across the gate at the other Enforcer on duty, who shrugged.
“Well, that’s highly irregular, Inspector,” Grayson said. “Why aren’t they being taken downtown?” He gestured back toward Link in the general direction of the local headquarters.
“Important business,” Cuskelly said crossly, enunciating each word carefully. “The kind you wouldn’t know anything about, Constable.”
Grayson shrugged away the belittling tone of his superior. “Maybe not, but I know a bit about how things works here on the gate, and we don’t let people through without the proper ID.”
“Well, maybe you want to explain to Commissioner Prazor why you’re disobeying the direct orders of a superior,” Cuskelly said, pointing to the radio on Grayson’s belt. “And while you’re at it, tell him why you’re holding up an investigation that he himself has sanctioned. I’m sure he’d have no problem sending you back out to patrol the slums as a reward for your ‘help’.”
Grayson glanced across the gate again, but once again the other man only shrugged.
“Didn’t think so,” Cuskelly said, gripping Alton and Tucker by the arms and guiding them through the gate. Grayson stepped back as they brushed past, contempt written across his face, but he made no further protest, turning back to the next in line as Cuskelly and his charges disappeared inside the Reach.
“You’re late,” Tucker muttered, wrenching free of Cuskelly’s grasp.
“Late?” Cuskelly hissed. “Do you know how much notice I had to put this together? Huh? How many strings I had to pull to make this work? This ain’t no walk in the park, especially when I only have an hour’s lead time.”
“Stay cool, Inspector,” Alton said. “People are watching.”
Cuskelly glanced around nervously. “You think I don’t know that, Wilt?”
Alton narrowed his eyes.
“Uh… Mr. Wilt,” Cuskelly amended.
“Just do your job and we’ll be out of your way very soon,” Alton said.
They strode through the crowd and came to the bank of elevators set in the eastern wall of the Reach’s lower level. There were more Enforcers here keeping a close watch on those coming and going through the area. Cuskelly made a beeline for the nearest available elevator, collaring two men who were about to enter and shoving them in the direction of the next set of doors. The men cried out and cursed at him angrily.
“Catch the next one,” Cuskelly said, waving at them as if batting away their protests. “Enforcer business here.”
Two Enforcers began to make their way over to investigate, but Cuskelly made a curt gesture and they nodded obediently and backed away.
Cuskelly directed Alton and Tucker inside the elevator, looking over his shoulder anxiously to see if they’d been noticed by anyone else. He moved in after them, pressing the button for Level 122, then swiped his fingertips on the access panel as the doors closed.
“Swipe here,” Cuskelly instructed the other two. When they hesitated, he motioned impatiently. “Come on! This thing won’t move unless you do it.”
&n
bsp; Alton and Tucker moved across and did as Cuskelly suggested. There was a brief pause before a buzzer sounded.
“Caution,” came the sound of an automated voice through the elevator intercom. It was delivered in soothing female tones but somehow carried a note of malevolence behind it. “Unverified occupants detected. Please standby.”
“Override,” Cuskelly barked. “Cuskelly, J. Badge number two-four-seven-six-one.”
There was a brief pause, then the automated voice filled the elevator again.
“Cuskelly, J. Voice match. Override granted. This exception has been noted in the security access log.”
They began to ascend, and Cuskelly removed his respirator. The other two followed his lead.
“I have no fucking idea how I’m going to explain this,” Cuskelly said, rubbing his brow. “You put me in a real bind here, you know that?”
“Look on the bright side,” Alton said. “After this your debt will be cleared. You’ll be a free man.”
“Yeah, until they lock me up for what you’re making me do.”
“You’re a smart man, Inspector. You’ll find a way to talk your way out of it.”
Cuskelly guffawed. “Like you care. You’d probably enjoy watching me fry.”
“Not at all. I’ll be long gone and too far away to care about what’s happening down here.”
“I figured as much,” Cuskelly said. “Finally getting off-world, huh? You got yourself a Sponsor after all this time?”
“Not exactly.”
Cuskelly looked at him sharply. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t have a Sponsor,” Alton said.
“Then what the fuck are you doing here?” Cuskelly blustered. “You know this is a one-time deal, right? I can’t ever get you in here again. You’re cashing in every last goddamn chip you own by making me do this. It’ll be a miracle if I don’t end up in the Cellar after this.”
“Calm down,” Alton said. “There are arrangements being made. I have information.”
Cuskelly threw up his hands. “If you say so. Don’t come looking to me for help if it doesn’t work out. After this, you and me are done.”
Earthbound (The Reach, Book 1) Page 11
