He shook his head, swatted at a flying bug. “On old maps, there was a city further along this coast. The sea is way off to the left.”
“How were you planning to meet up with the swathe landships again?”
“Smart questions.” He sighed. “Knew you were too smart. I didn’t mean to go this far this soon. But, honestly, we may have a year to wait to catch the swathe again. If I don’t get taken by Aerthe.”
If the weather worsened remarkably, he’d know he’d reached the end of his safe time. Storms, earthquakes, lightning, any of those and more might happen. Walking would never outpace the wrath of Aerthe on Mekkers.
“Oh.” Gio shifted her back, easing where the pack lay, and her stance. A serious look set on her face. “We’re going to have to try that waik swallowing idea soon.”
“Yes.”
We. She’d said we. Somehow that’d made his chest feel light.
Damned if he knew why a word did that.
“Well. No use waiting here longer. That’s too treacherous a ground to walk over at night. I think we can do it in an hour. Evening is coming. Let’s go.” He took the first step out from under the tree cover.
They were over halfway, with the tree line ahead well in sight, when a Ramm overflew, spun, and came back to hover in front of them, rockets and gun barrels swiveled to train on them.
Aunt M barreled to a stop beside him. Her new body was built up into a rough ball shape. Her many limbs were twisted and corroded, with a few bright pieces, but on the whole she looked ready to collapse in a rusted heap. Enough of her structure worked that she could swing through the trees or roll and run at a good pace. Like a mutant monkey, as Gio had described her. One patch of mechling shell swung and squeaked on a flimsy hinge of warped metal.
Of all the things he wished for Aunt M, he wished she was armed.
A Mekker abseiled down a rope to the ground and walked slowly toward them – the rifle in his hand casually pointed at Ryke. He stopped when still well out of wrestling range. If Ryke pounced on him, it’d do no good anyway.
“What do we do?” Gio asked. He was a little proud of her poise.
“Nothing, yet.” He couldn’t outshoot or outrun the Ramm. All he could do was hope they made a mistake.
The Mekker, no doubt another Ormrad man, began to shout. “Drop all your gear where you stand! Strip down to your underwear, both of you, then walk way over there.” He indicated where with the barrel of the rifle. “And tell me what sort of mechling is that...thing?”
Guess he should say. Not saying would get her blown into pieces. “That’s the mechling Ormrad wanted. Ormrad is your master, yes?”
The man nodded.
“It has been damaged but its mind is the same.”
“Good! Once you’re undressed and you walk over there, you and the girl are to lie down with your hands on your head. Clear?”
“Sure.” This was looking worse and worse each second.
The Ramm still hovered, so he undressed and obeyed. Five more men disembarked from the Ramm and walked over, warily covering him with their weapons.
One of them hauled Gio to the side and tied her hands at the front while cheerfully running his hands over most of her. Ryke glared at him, until a man standing over him kicked him in the head. Another followed up with a blow from something more solid and he slammed into unconsciousness.
The world broke up and obliterated into nothingness.
When he regained consciousness, it was to the tune of Gio yelling and the thump of something thudding into his hands. He was on his back, splayed out. The sky above was clear.
Pain woke him with a blast of fire that tore into his palm. Heavy and piercing all at once.
Another thump that shook his hand. Another. They were staking him to whatever he lay on. Deep stakes that held him in place irrevocably.
He tried to tug his hands loose, only to choke and scream. He choked again, spluttering as warm blood flooded his palms. They’d popped his knees up and pressed his feet flat, keeping them in place with force and weight. When they did the same to his feet he lost consciousness again.
Water gushed over his face and he inhaled some before he turned his head. Coughing, he shook his head until the jerking pulled at the wounds.
“Fuck!” He tore in some breaths, rasping through his teeth, but trying not to whimper. Screaming – not a good look.
Last he saw of Gio was them hauling her to the Ramm – her staggering, with two of them either side of her. Her face was reddened, eyes wide and scared. One man had stayed behind and he stood over Ryke for a while before kicking him in the side.
He clamped his jaw. “What the fuck do you want?”
“From Ormrad. Thanks for the girl, and the mechling. He said to stake you out, wants to let you know he doesn’t care if Aerthe gets you first or if you die from lack of water and your wounds. So.” The man shrugged. “I’m done.” He saluted Ryke and marched off to the Ramm.
The throb and ebb of its engines as it slipped across the sky left him in peace and quiet – if you didn’t count the violence of his situation.
He needed to get loose and began a rhythmic system of trying to pull his hands loose from the stakes. It didn’t help that there was a flat end to them, or that they were lodged deep in some sort of building material. Once, a structure had stood here and the men had searched out something to fasten him to that wouldn’t let the stakes pull loose.
He let his ragged breaths die a little, gulped, braced for the horrendous pain, and began again.
He’d die sooner rather than later if he lost too much blood, or if the infection worsened. No matter what he did, Gio was with them.
He couldn’t afford to give up. Giving up equaled death.
He tried again. Bugs settled on his skin, his face, on the blood. Night fell and he found he was trembling from the cold, or from shock. Blood loss, dehydration, or the Aerthe? Ormrad was the epitome of evil.
He screamed into the darkness the worst curses he could summon. If it brought some predator, so be it. He’d still have died trying.
The blood dried, the pain became worse, peaked, then numbed, until morning. Somehow he slept.
Morning brought a light spatter of rain that he greedily tried to catch in his mouth.
Begin again.
Try.
Again.
The sun moved across the sky. Night fell and he knew he weakened, and let his eyes close. Why had nothing eaten him yet?
Morning. He wouldn’t die like a sputter of weak-willed nothing piece of shit.
Begin.
At the end of the second day, or maybe it was the third, something tore in his left hand and he could raise it above him, wavering.
He marveled at his swollen and bloodied extremity. His fingers were still there.
Now, all he had to do was get the others loose. Nothing more. His eyes closed. His skin felt raw from the sun burning down on him and he turned his head as the urge to throw up hit.
He managed not to, but someone, a large man, sat down beside him.
“Hello there. I’ve been watching you.”
“Then help me,” he croaked.
“Not inclined to help Mekkers, and you are one. But, I saw them take your human woman in that Ramm. And you are one very determined Mekker. I do admire that.”
He’d watched for all that time. Ryke was too tired to argue the finer points of this. “What do you want?”
“To get me to help you? Nothing. Here. A knife.” He placed it into Ryke’s hand. “Get yourself loose and I’ll help you chase her down.”
After three days even he was skeptical, but he picked up the slim knife, fumbling at it, almost letting it fall before he leaned up and over to dig at his right hand.
The pain sliced him as the knife sliced into his hand. Overwhelming and sickening. Face pulled into a taut yet jittering mess he kept going. He had to restart a few times before he managed to cut away enough to get his hand out.
“Well.” The
man stood, his pure white hair flying in the wind – only a few streaks were a darker gray. Tall as a landship, he seemed to be to Ryke, as he squinted up at him. “Well. For a Mekker, you’re doing good. I’m going to give you some water then I’ll get those feet out. Then we go get the human. However...” He poked Ryke in the ribs with a bright red Scav rifle. “If she says to kill you, I will. I am not partial to Mekkers.”
He drank then watched, up on his elbows mostly, trying not to flinch or faint as the man levered out both feet stakes then slid them from his flesh. Okay, he did scream at that.
“You can’t,” he said, gasping, now on his side, tears streaming from the agony. “Doubt we can catch them. Been too long.”
“No. I saw them crash maybe a day’s march away. If we hurry we can get there.”
“They crashed?”
“Yes. Well, it spiraled down.”
What were the odds that Gio got out okay? Depended on how it crashed.
“Hurry?” Ryke laughed. “How the fuck do we do that?” He frowned at his ruined feet.
“You’ll see. Soon. You’ll see.”
Then he whistled and something stampeded toward them.
“What’s your name, man? So I can thank you.” Ryke sat up, but dizziness swarmed in and he curled himself over his stomach, tucking in his hurting hands.
“A name? Just call me JI.”
The two creatures JI had called jostled closer to him and Ryke eyed them skeptically. The antlers on their heads seemed decorative but their front teeth were sharp triangles. “What in the stars are those? Wait, I know. A scav beast? Jaggs?”
“Yes. Meet Arthur and Martha. I have weaned them off eating everything in their near vicinity. They are changing to an omnivorous stage where they allow riding, if I do not push them too much.”
“Riding?” He tried not to curl his lips. These animals were rumored to be vicious.
Which was how he ended up strapped to one of them, the Arthur, with a back support of branches behind him. They were headed for where JI said the Ramm had crashed, on this same flood plain area, in the delta of the rivers.
A plume of smoke had wriggled into the sky for a day afterward. Whether she’d survived...he would find out soon.
“Why did it crash?” It wasn’t easy to bring that vehicle down. The swathe would be angry at Ormrad for wasting such a resource.
“I cannot say. I saw no missiles, heard the echo of no shots. Accident? I doubt this. Tell me something.”
JI turned on his mount, Martha. The butt of his long gun sat up behind him, slotted into some carrying mechanism or holster. He looked slightly ridiculous – a large man on such a medium-sized creature. The jagg had long legs, eight of them, and a cylindrical body, and JI looked as if he’d squash it.
“Yes? Tell you what?” He was hanging on with all his strength, since he didn’t trust the strapping, yet his strength was so poor he’d fall off if the straps failed. His blood had smeared the saddle he sat on.
“Why do you wish to find this woman? This human?”
A good question, and though it distracted him from the pain, he was annoyed at being asked. Then it sank in. Why did he?
“Does she have some crucial use for you?”
“No. Not anymore.”
“Is she wonderful in bed? I have little experience with using this cock of mine but I gather that can be a strong imperative.”
What? He eyed JI. How could that be true?
“You’re an odd man, but yes she is a great fuck.” He thought again. “Incredible.”
Yet that too was not why he wanted her back.
“Or is it love? I hear that does things to a man, or to a woman. Makes you do inexplicable things.”
“Stars, no.” The pain was coming in waves and he shut his eyes. “No more questions.”
“Suit yourself. I will stop. It is enough in any case. I am satisfied you may be worthy of this human. Let’s hope she lived.”
“Yes.” Yes, he did hope that.
If she lived it might fill this hollowness he seemed to have grown in the middle of his fucking chest. The stake wounds in his hands and feet and the hole in his shoulder weren’t as persistent or, he’d swear, as painful.
He supposed that meant he liked Gio a lot. Love though? May all the gods and the stars save him from that affliction.
“Thank you for the medicine,” he mumbled. May as well be polite. He owed this man.
“A doctor at a Scav encampment sold those pills to me. I cannot vouchsafe for the effectiveness but he said they cured wound rot. Since this body is but new-ish, I felt it my duty to get some. At least this way I’ve tested them on a body that isn’t mine.”
Ryke popped open one eyelid. He was being used to test medicine?
The jagg picked up pace, making him lurch, and he clutched at the saddle again and decided JI could experiment on him all he liked, as long as they got to where they were going, fast.
With his feet pierced and too swollen for even JI’s big spare boots, he couldn’t have walked there. He would’ve died without this Scav’s help. It was something to muse on.
He’d rarely ever owed his life to someone.
The words from his mother’s book returned.
Sacrifices hurt but the gain is worth it.
Chapter 40
The men had pushed her into a seat at the back of the Ramm. Though one of them sat nearby and was watching her, and one was piloting, the rest were gathered about Aunt M. They seemed amused by her decrepit exterior. So far Aunt M had said nothing and had obeyed. Inside her, Gio sensed confusion.
The side door through which they’d entered was still open. Wind blasted in, ruffling everything not riveted down.
“I thought this mechling was advanced? I didn’t expect a heap of rusted junk.”
Most of them laughed.
“Rumor is the judge has found an old mech he wants to put this one’s brain into.”
“For fuck’s sake? Truth? It’ll only run in circles dribbling then.”
They laughed again.
Aunt M had collapsed to the floor, with several of her limbs acting like grapples and anchoring her to a seat, a rack on the wall, and part of the floor.
Six men here, plus a pilot and she was bound, her wrists clipped into some plaited handcuff device.
What is this, Gio? These wish to hurt you? I remember I must not harm people. But...But...What if they hurt you?
Poor thing. The eternal dilemma of humanity. Which evil is worst? She felt so bad for Aunt M.
The Ramm was slamming across the sky. Less than a minute since they’d left Ryke staked into those scrappy blocks of ancient building, sunk in that swamp, and here she was headed back to a worse slavery than ever before. Not counting the blood-snack room. Ormrad would not be kind.
Aunt M buzzed to life in her mind. Which evil is worst? Is that how it works? That’s easy then. You’re my friend, these are not. Brace yourself, Gio.
All her limbs sprang from the floor, unhooked, unhitched, lifted, curled in, then she raised them above her. In those few seconds Aunt M changed. No longer passive, she looked malevolent and capable of violence. Predatory, unpredictable...
The men froze and ceased to mock her.
The pilot turned halfway in his chair. “What’s up? You should all strap in.” He punched a button and the door began to slide shut.
“Hello, boys. You don’t like my appearance?” A limb rose above the rest and kinked backward, clicked into place.
“What? Huh?” One of them stuttered out.
“Bye!” she said, cheerfully. Aunt M grabbed two of her mockers and tossed them out the door.
The pilot squeaked and flung the craft into a sideways slide that tipped the opening to the top. Aunt M adjusted aim and tossed the rest out one by one, including the man beside Gio, who merely squeaked once then vanished upward. The pilot was last, and was gone before Gio could go wait!
Oops. Aunt M mind-voiced.
The Ramm spun and th
ey smacked into the ground and bounced, with the engines screaming and flame billowing past the door. At the same moment, Aunt M wrapped Gio in her many limbs and leapt out, through the fire, her trajectory precise. They were airborne. Metal screeched. Pieces of something black whistled past.
The final view Gio had of the doomed craft was of it spinning and plowing into swamp land, spewing dirt, erupting into chunks of metal and fire as it slid and rolled.
Then Aunt M hit the earth, also rolling fiercely. Clutched inside her metal embrace, Gio blacked out.
Her head hurt when she awoke – woozy, and with the world still spinning into place, with the mechling uncurling her down onto a dry piece of ground. Grass whispered at her ears. Something went boom in the distance and a part of a shrub beside Aunt M burst into flame.
Aunt M promptly sat on it and extinguished the small fire.
It hissed and smoked under her round ass...if Aunt M had an ass.
Mouth open, Gio levered herself onto her elbows and looked about. It seemed only seconds since the crash. Fragments floated down. The scent of burning things singed her nostrils. Her vision kept floating sideways then jinking to the left as it tried to catch up with how Aunt M had flung them about.
“Fuck,” she whispered and she sat up properly, her arms shaking so much she almost fell over. If ever she’d come close to death, it had been seconds ago.
But she was alive, somehow.
Her handcuffs were gone?
When had that happened? She stared at the mech, wet her mouth and realized blood was dribbling from a split in her lip. Gio pressed the back of her hand to the sting.
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome. Friends help friends.”
“Mmm.” By killing everyone else, clearly.
She slowly climbed to her feet, and stood there wobbling, atop the small mound Aunt M had landed on. Wherever Ryke was, it was miles back and darkness was descending, fast. He’d said this place would be dangerous to walk through at night.
And...should she even return to him? Free, remember?
Free to leave him to die? She’d never forget the sounds as those stakes were driven into him.
Could she help him, though? He’d likely be dead before she got there. And if he was, at least she’d have tried. He was an evil man at times, and at other times, not. Mostly that was recent though.
Branded Possession (The Machinery of Desire Book 3) Page 26
