by Chris Ward
‘Perhaps you should take a rest?’ Mika suggested, trying to keep the hint of worry out of her voice.
Airie gave her a brief glare, then took a seat on the same bench, leaving a couple of places between them.
‘Five minutes,’ Airie growled.
Mika waited for her to say something else, but her sister remained silent. At last she could stand it no longer. ‘You’re amazing,’ she said. ‘What you’re doing on those trains … I could never imagine even trying it.’
Airie stared straight ahead. Mika thought her sister hadn’t heard her, then she said, ‘He doesn’t want me. He’s only interested in her. It doesn’t matter how well I can tube ride, he doesn’t want me. I’m worthless, just like Sebastian always said.’
‘You’ll never be worthless.’
‘How would you know anything? You weren’t there.’
‘Father kicked me out. It didn’t matter that I had no choice. He said I wasn’t his daughter. I buried myself in my work to forget about it. I turned myself into the kind of robot I was paid to build.’
‘You want my sympathy?’
Mika sighed. ‘No.’
‘Then what?’
‘Nothing. I’m happy just knowing you’re alive.’
‘You think I’m alive? Do you know I tried to top myself after Sebastian started selling me? He caught me with a wire around my throat. You know what he did?’
Mika shook her head. Part of her didn’t want to know. The teenage boy she remembered had been a grotty brat playing with his friends in the street. She wanted to remember him that way.
Airie bared her teeth and tapped a finger against the front pair. ‘He knocked these out, then found a backstreet dentist to fit me with new ones. Nice, ain’t they? It cost a fortune. And he made me earn back every penny, believe me.’
Mika closed her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry….’
‘I was dead for years. Then I met David. And I started to hope.’ Mika opened her mouth to answer, but Airie was on a roll. ‘He was kind to me for no reason. He didn’t want anything back, and I offered him plenty. All I wanted to feel was his arms around me, hear him tell me that no one else would hurt me again—’
Voices at the end of the platform made Mika look up. Airie flinched away at the sound, jumping up and vanishing into the shadows of an alcove that had once housed a public phone or a vending machine.
‘There you are,’ Tim Cold said. At his shoulder stood David and Raine. Looking at the way the shadows fell over David’s face, Mika could understand Airie’s obsession. For a man, David was beautiful, his face naturally rugged and his shoulder-length hair making him into a caricature of a cartoon hero. Strong muscles under his clothes only accentuated it.
She could also understand Airie’s frustration. Raine, standing at his shoulder, was also beautiful, and they made a perfect couple.
And they were holding hands.
Tim looked around as if expecting someone else to be present, but seeing no one he focused his attention on Mika, who was holding the board Airie had been using across her chest.
‘Have you fixed them? I need two.’
‘Why? I’m still testing them.’
David and Raine shared a glance. The girl, Mika saw, had been crying. ‘We’re going after Raine’s baby,’ David said.
Something in the way Raine reacted to his words made Mika frown. ‘I—’
‘We need them by tonight,’ Tim said, misunderstanding her reaction. ‘Can it be done? Can you have them ready?’
‘I’ll do my best.’
When they were gone, Mika turned to find Airie crouched in the shadows, her head leaning against the wall.
‘He’s forgotten me,’ she said.
‘I think it’s a little more complicated than that. It’s not so much about them as about their baby—’
Airie’s head snapped up. ‘Do you think so?’
Mika remembered the way Raine had looked at David when he mentioned the child. It was his, she felt sure. He just didn’t know.
She looked up the platform in the direction they had gone, wondering if she had really seen what she thought. Perhaps she was mistaken, perhaps—
The sound of running feet made her turn.
Airie had gone, the echo of her footfalls on the hard concrete slowly receding as the girl disappeared into the dark gaping maw of the train tunnel.
40
Guards
Heyna nudged aside a fallen table with his foot. The towering Huntsman lifted his head and cocked it at Dreggo, who stood across the room near the only window. From here on the tenth floor they could see the buildings of London rising up in angular blocks like dirty toy bricks the same grey as the sky.
‘They could learn subtlety one day,’ she muttered, dismayed at the mess the DCA had made of Richard Spacewell’s apartment. ‘Let’s check downstairs.’
As well as his own, Spacewell’s scent frequented the apartment downstairs with rather more regularity than was normal for a neighbour in London GUA. Dreggo wondered if he might have had a lady-friend holed up, but it made no sense for them to live apart. When they reached the lower apartment, again ransacked by the DCA, she immediately caught two regular scents, one that was frail, almost sickly, and another that was meaty and muscular, the scent of a strong, powerful man. It was also one she was surprised to recognise.
Like good food, you didn’t forget familiar scents.
Lindon.
She remembered him from the Cross Jumpers. He had been a prominent member, and for a while they had been close—on one night very close indeed. Over time he had slowly stepped away during her leadership, by the end not showing up at all. Now he stood tall in the Tank.
‘Has he been back?’ she asked Heyna.
Yes. More than once.
She nodded. Heyna’s sense of smell was far more powerful than hers. He could track a scent that was weeks old and moving at speed. If she wanted to catch the Tube Riders quickly she could set Heyna on their trail, but the Huntsman was too important to her. She had liked to think of herself as a loner, not needing companionship, but Heyna was everything, a companion, a confidant, a friend as well as a bodyguard. His devotion to her was unwavering, and in the cutthroat corridors of Parliament Tower he was the crutch she needed to survive.
‘Why? Can you tell from the scent how he feels when he returns?’
Heyna cocked his head. He feels … safe. At peace.
‘How often?’
Daily. Never at night. During the afternoon. He sits by the window … looking out.
Dreggo rubbed her chin. Lindon was powerful of body, but what of his mind? She knew him. There was a truce to be had, a mutual agreement, one favour given for another.
‘Let’s go,’ she said. ‘We have to find Sorel before the DCA scare her off.’
He was a quiet baby. He hadn’t cried in several hours, and the dried food she gave him seemed to satisfy, but it wouldn’t be long before he needed more.
Things weren’t going well. She was almost out of food again, and she was running out of water. The sheets she had found for the baby needed changing, because the blood from her kills had stained them, and the baby had soiled himself while she was hunting. It would just take time, she knew. Once she had a chance, she would begin to fix up the building, turn it into a proper home again.
If only John was here, she thought. He could help her out, look after the baby while she went to hunt. He had always been so supportive. Leaving the baby for more than an hour or so worried her, but she had no choice.
She went to the front of the house and peered out of the broken window. Dusk had fallen. The houses on either side were dark, but further down the street lights had blinked on in some of the houses. She kept out of sight of these live residents, aware that any one of them might cause her trouble. She moved through the gardens and the old playing fields that the street backed onto by darkness when she could. While it would serve her purpose to slaughter all the locals, it might draw too much attention.
A light blinked on in the house closest to the main road. Sorel gave a low growl. It was the first time she had seen a sign of occupancy there. She squinted, trying to make out any figures in the windows, but it was too far.
Had someone found her?
She crept out of the back door of the house and headed around towards the main road, creeping through a patch of waste ground until she was right at the rear of the first house on the street. Lights shone in its back windows, behind curtains that looked hastily erected to give the impression of homeliness, something the overgrown yard and broken downstairs windows denied.
She went down to the main road, crouching behind a low wall, and watched the front windows for a while.
Something was poking between the curtains, resting on the window ledge, a thin black tube.
The barrel of a sniper rifle.
Sorel growled. She wouldn’t be chased from her home again, not without a fight. The crossbow that never left her belt was in her hand in a moment, a shiny silver quarrel fitted into the mechanism. She calculated from the angle of the barrel how far distant the owner would be sitting, the angle of his head to the window ledge, and she leaned over the bow, her finger resting on the trigger.
Then she paused. The sniper rifle was pointing away from the house, looking down the main street. Sorel returned her crossbow to her belt and crept a little further on, until she could see the windows of the house that faced in the other direction.
Another sniper rifle poked from between the curtains facing up the street.
Was Dreggo protecting her?
She trusted Dreggo. Dreggo knew she was here, but Dreggo was the only one. Had Dreggo sent these men to protect her?
She decided to do a complete circuit of the perimeter. Creeping through the bushes, ducking in and out of gardens, she discovered the first sniper nest wasn’t alone. There were three more, all of them watching potential ways to approach Bell Close.
Sorel’s hackles began to rise. Why so many? She could feel the strength in her body, the power in her arms, the speed in her legs. As well as the crossbow, she carried several other weapons. She felt no fear; she could take out a small army. If it wasn’t pursuers from the government, then who might be coming after her?
Someone wanted to take her baby. Sorel growled again, her fingers twisting into claws. When they came, she would be waiting.
With her fingers tensed, ready to tear out the hearts of her attackers, Sorel crept back towards the house.
41
Machinations
Tim Cold pressed the object into David’s hand.
‘You’ll get one chance,’ he said. ‘When the Huntsman comes at you, throw this into its midriff. It activates on impact, releasing an electrical charge that will briefly disable the creature. When it’s down, kill it. Sever its spinal cord, otherwise it can be repaired. If you don’t make sure it’s dead, it’ll be able to track you.’
David looked down at the circular metal ball and nodded. He glanced at Raine, who gave him a grim smile.
‘My advice would be to draw the Huntsman away from the baby,’ Tim continued. ‘That device is isolated, but if the Huntsman is holding the baby they’ll both be affected. An adult can recover in a few minutes, but it might cause lasting damage to a child.’
‘Thanks.’
Tim Cold sighed. ‘Your only chance is that the Huntsman isn’t hunting you, but keep your head down. This could be a trap. My men have rigged an explosion in an abandoned factory a couple of blocks away, so if there are DCA men it will distract their attention, but you’ll have a few minutes at most. I can’t offer you backup. The risk to the Tank is too great.’
‘We’ll be careful.’
Tim smiled. ‘If you pull this off, though … the Tube Riders will well and truly be back.’
Raine glared at him. ‘My baby is not a symbol of revolution,’ she said.
‘I know that. But you have to understand that there is a greater fate at stake than just the survival of your child.’
David reached out for Raine’s hand, squeezing it tight. Her anger was close to boiling over. He understood Tim, but he understood Raine too. He hoped both of them would be happy by the time the evening was out.
‘Let’s go,’ he said.
Mika’s information had located the Huntsman Sorel at Bell Close in Hampsted, not far from the Underground station on the Northern Line. David wanted to head straight there, but one of Tim’s drivers took them on a circuitous journey into South London before leaving them near the tube and then setting fire to the car. It was an overly cautious way to disassociate their scent from the Tank, but as the driver wished them good luck before embarking on the long walk back across London, David thought it was probably necessary. As soon as they were alone, though, Raine let out a piercing scream.
‘I’m sick of this fucking bullshit! I don’t want any part of this. I just want my baby back.’ She turned to glare at David. ‘If he dies, this is on you.’
‘I know that.’
‘We go in there, we get Jake, and we get out,’ she said. ‘No Tube Rider bullshit. No revolutionary crap. Got that?’
David nodded.
‘You and Tim Cold can play your war games once Jake is safe. I want nothing to do with it. I don’t like London any more than anyone else, but Jake is all … I have.’
She sniffed, brushed away a tear with a swipe of her hand. David took a step forward, but Raine lifted a hand.
‘Don’t,’ she said.
‘I’ll die before he dies,’ David whispered. Raine looked about to snap at him, but she sighed and turned away.
‘Let’s find that fucking train.’
David felt like all eyes were on him as the train rumbled through the tunnels, although in truth there were only a handful of other passengers in their carriage, and few even glanced in their direction. Raine hadn’t said a word since they had boarded, and while David’s preference had been to tube ride, the comfort of a soft seat beneath him and a warm air conditioner over his head were worth the fear that the DCA had plants everywhere.
They had talked over a plan. David would run inside and draw the Huntsman away from the baby. In the close confines of the hallways it would be easier to use the weapon Tim Cold had given him, and if that failed he hoped Mika’s computerised clawboard would help him out.
It was hard to believe that Mika and Airie were sisters. Mika, despite her desperate escape from the research facility was cold and calculated when she spoke, like a human computer. Airie, on the other hand, was an emotional livewire.
He wondered where she had gone. He had looked for her earlier, but no one had seen her.
‘Mika! Where are you? You’re required above ground. What are you doing in there?’
The voice came from back on the platform. She thought about switching off her flashlight but another train was due any minute. She swung it around to the wall, picked out the nearest maintenance alcove, and slipped into it just as the roar began to grow louder.
A few seconds later the train rushed past, the wind whipping at Mika’s hair, buffeting her clothes. More than a dozen had come past since she had begun her search for Airie but the terror never lessened. They were so massive, so fast. It would take nothing to wipe her off the face of the Earth.
She found Lindon by the edge of the platform, squatting down to peer into the tunnel. ‘It’s my sister,’ she said. ‘She ran off.’
‘In there?’
Mika nodded. ‘She could be halfway across London by now. I only just found her. I can’t lose her again.’
Lindon nodded. Something in his eyes showed he understood. ‘Go,’ he said. ‘Give me your flashlight. I’ll look for her.’
‘Here,’ she said. ‘If you find her, tell her … sorry.’
Lindon stepped down on to the tracks. ‘I’ll do what I can,’ he said.
The voice no longer belonged to her sister. Airie recognised it, but it took a moment to place.
Lindon, the man
who had saved her from her brother.
She waited a few minutes until she was sure Mika had gone. Lindon was right below her, wandering blindly down the tunnel like her sister had done.
‘I’m up here,’ she said.
The flashlight swung up, momentarily dazzling her. The ladder led up to a small platform just below a service hatch which was rusted shut.
‘What are you doing up there?’
‘I just needed some time away from her. I’m not about to run off into the tunnel. What do you think I am, stupid?’
‘I never thought it for a minute. Come down.’
Lindon didn’t seem like the kind of guy to stand around negotiating. Airie shimmied down the ladder in case he planned to come up for her. As she reached the bottom he shone the flashlight into her face.
‘You’ve been crying.’
‘What do you expect? Everything’s fucked.’
‘Crying won’t fix it.’ He waved the flashlight back towards the platform. ‘There’ll be another train in a couple of minutes. Move.’
They reached the platform just as the lights of an oncoming train appeared in the tunnel behind them. Lindon gave her a lift up, his strong arms effortlessly throwing her up on to the tiles before he vaulted up after. He helped her to her feet as the train rushed past.
Airie couldn’t help but admire the thick muscles of his arms and the pectorals that pressed through his shirt. ‘You work out a lot?’
Lindon shrugged. ‘I earn my money in the cages. I have to stay in shape.’
‘Doesn’t Tim Cold pay you?’
Lindon gave an uncomfortable flinch. ‘The Tank is more of a large family. We volunteer here.’ He gave a shrug and smiled. ‘We’re communists.’
‘What’s a communist?’
‘Never mind. Do you want to tell me why you ran off? Just for the record, I don’t care why. I’m being nice. I have bigger problems than you.’
