Hayden thought hard. “Do you have any family?”
“Not since I was nine.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is.” Fay nestled in a fatalistic shroud. “People like us ain’t gonna change it.”
“But we don’t have to accept it.”
“There you go again. Strong bitch, ain’t ya? If you didn’t sign up for the greenbacks why are you here?”
“Oh, I did,” Hayden said hastily. “Just threw me when you said experiments. They didn’t say that to me.”
“Oh. Well, what the hell, right? Two weeks for two grand ain’t bad. They can stick me on camera all they want for that.”
Hayden turned away, sorry and at the same time extremely angry for the girl. Defeated by life, this is where she’d ended up. Exploited. Used. Essentially taken from the face of the world. How many men and women, boys and girls, disappeared daily this way? How many desperate souls lost just because they hadn’t found their place in life?
Others watched them as they passed by. Hayden studied their faces. None looked particularly unhappy, but then none were grinning either. Most got about their business of sleeping, reading, chatting quietly or just staring up beyond the bank of cameras at the roof. Toward the far side of the cave a row of shower stalls and toilets were set up, none of them private, nothing but functional.
“Guess I’ll skip the shower tonight,” Hayden whispered, hoping to make Fay laugh, as an older man stepped out, hairy and bare from head to toe.
The young girl stared at her. “Who are you?”
“I told you.”
“No. Like I said, I’ve been basically alone since I was nine. My kind of people—we know each other. We’re the same. You see that guy . . .” She pointed at a youth sat staring into space. “I can share shit with him. I never met him but I can see. That woman . . .” A platinum blonde with old scars running down her face. “Her—I can sit next to. Pass a day. Talk shit. Never see her again. That’s a good day, you see, ’cause we ain’t being owned by some bastard who thinks he’s in charge. Big man always tells you what to do.”
“And you tell him to go to hell.”
“No, bitch. Not if you wanna walk away you don’t.”
Fay stared at Hayden now, and for the first time a hardness tougher than raw diamond shone out of her eyes. A lifetime of misery, of regret, of hardship and long-lost chances had turned to stone. Once, even up to the age of eight, Fay had been like every other girl her age—a living firecracker of emotion, fun and spirit, as mighty as a God in her own world, doted over by parents and looking forward to the rest of her life. But how quickly, how insanely fast, everything could change. You lose that security too young, Hayden thought. You lose.
“You don’t know me.” Hayden knew the only way through this was to return the challenge. “You don’t know my choices. So what if I grew up different to you? So what if think and talk different to you? Don’t mean I ain’t got problems.”
Fay dropped her gaze toward her own feet. “I guess.”
A flurry of chatter rushed through the room, bringing heads up and emptying the shower stalls faster than an arctic blast. Hayden watched as the people she’d come to think of as recruits rose to stand beside their makeshift beds along rough, rocky walls, or just froze where they stood. She sent an enquiring look toward the nearest figure.
“Dantanion.” Fear crackled through the word like lightning within a storm cloud.
Hayden followed Fay’s lead this time, and studied the ground. She expected the man would check over the new recruits, and wasn’t disappointed. Within five minutes he was swishing up to her side. She saw the surprisingly boot-shod feet, a pair of shoes worth ten grand if ever she’d seen them, and the bottom half of a black robe. Unsure, she waited. Presently, she felt a finger under her chin, raising her face to his.
“We give thanks to the offering,” he said cryptically. “All the offerings. You are welcome in our community. All of you.”
Hayden allowed a slight smile, fighting hard to remain pliant. Dantanion was a tall individual, and thin, wiry, built like a rake. His black hair was lustrous, his eyes pools of mystery, his skin swarthy, giving him an enigmatic air she was immediately drawn to. When he stared hard at her like he was doing now she felt like he might be able to see right into her soul.
And she felt a little weak.
Crap, what are you doing?
Hayden hardened her face before it gave her away. Dantanion moved on to Fay and then the other new recruits, welcoming them all. It was a moment before he then turned to address the entire room.
“Maybe you know by now, but we call each step of your journey an initiation.” He smiled, a tanned and inexplicable figure wearing a stretched white T-shirt under the half-open robe, showing muscles worthy of a top athlete. Hayden dragged her eyes back up to his face.
“And you will all be glad to know,” he continued, “that the first initiations start right now.”
All of a sudden, his physical appearance vanished completely from her mind.
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
Drake saw the first of the half-dozen flickering torches descending from the mountains and knew their inexorable destiny approached. The villagers were prepared, the team well-placed. The shadow of inevitability approached, driven by some twisted desire, a ravenous, unstoppable fate.
Alicia crouched at his side; the two alone for the briefest of moments in the steady passage of time. “It’s good to be together again,” Drake said. “I miss you when you bog off, gold hunting.”
“Aw, you’re such a silver tongued old bastard.”
“Old? Thanks. Now I’m wondering why I missed you.”
Alicia snuggled in for just one second. “Because I’m the love of your life?”
He felt her pull away, then looked askance. She studied the hills, the flippant comment now a concrete moment in an unsteady past. If they meant so much to each other why were they still fighting for others, with others? Shouldn’t they be off somewhere together, living life?
In the greatest way, the change in Alicia Myles was what brought them together again. Perhaps life and circumstance helped, but Alicia herself was the catalyst.
“How do you rate our chances, Drakey?” She didn’t turn her head, just waited, as if weighing a lot on his words.
Over on the other side of the roof, he saw one of the village youths starting to get antsy and knew they didn’t have time for this discussion right now. “All depends on how you brush up on your car knowledge, love. There’ll be tests next week.”
“Really? Want me to join you in petrolhead heaven? I forget, is the Sprite a car geek too?”
Drake saw the danger in any reply and let it drop, which was probably what Alicia intended. The youth stared straight at him as he approached.
“It’ll be okay, mate,” Drake said. “You’ll do great.”
“Should I be scared?”
“Only of me,” Alicia said as she approached. “If you don’t buck up, I’ll kick your ass harder than any of ’em.”
She ruffled the lad’s hair and took a casual look over the side of the roof. Signals were passing between several knots of villagers. Drake looked to the spot where Smyth lay and then to the others’ positions. He sought out Curtis and Desiree, Anica and Marco, but could not be certain he saw them among the shadows. His heart went out to them, defending their home.
“Once more to the arena,” he said. “Once more, we risk tomorrow.”
“Where’d you hear that?” Alicia asked.
“I just made it up.”
“Fuck off.” She chortled. “Thick bastard like you couldn’t make up a bed.”
At least it made the youth laugh.
Drake finally saw the shadows moving as the creatures made their final approach to the village. He saw the oncoming wave, still chilling, the joint movements enough to set his skin to crawling.
“This time,” Dahl said over the comms, “we’re gonna catch one alive.”
“Don’t think we haven’t tried,” Drake said.
“But this is me speaking now,” Dahl came back. “Maybe I’ve been away too long and you forgot my voice.”
“Nope. I’d recognize the Swedish chef almost anywhere.”
“You want a little wager, Pork Pie Boy?”
Drake took offense, not at the inferred insult but at the fact that the best pork pies weren’t made in Yorkshire. “I’ll take that.”
“Me too,” Kenzie said.
“And me,” Alicia agreed.
Drake made ready, knowing the friendly bluster would only make them sharper. The first screams began as the creatures triggered several traps. Drake found it hard to tell with the shadows but thought he saw two ditches already uncovered and a man swinging by his leg. Another rope looked to have misfired and caught someone about the waist, but they’d take every fluke they could get.
“Do it,” he said through the comms.
Someone lit the touch-paper and columns of fire went up around the town—stakes covered in tar, rudimentary but enough to illuminate most of the town. With nowhere to run, nowhere to hide and sneak and slither, the creatures abandoned their pretensions and rose up on two legs, ripped off masks and took out bows and arrows. Drake took it all in before moving.
The comms crackled again. “Heads are up, guys,” Yorgi said. “I see two handguns out there.”
Drake moved, knowing the rest of the team would be fully invested now. He fired several shots from the rooftop, gesturing for the villagers to kneel up and use whatever projectiles they’d managed to gather together. The streets below were crawling with enemies. Drake saw one fall flat, shot through the leg; another ran for a house door, took a rock the size of a wing mirror to the temple, and collapsed without a sound. Arrows whizzed through the air, shooting up over the roof, most landing harmlessly behind them. A villager screamed as a bolt lodged through his bicep, then went down clutching the muscle. Their designated nurse rushed over, trying to help. Drake knew the older man would do all he could—they’d only had chance to train a handful in the basics of first aid, but natives living out in the wilds always had their own ways.
The villagers stayed atop the roof whilst Drake and Alicia rushed through a hatch and headed for the street below. They came out the back of the house, straight into a wandering attacker. Drake grabbed him by the waist and threw him to Alicia.
“One to help you along, old girl.”
Alicia took it, knocked him unconscious and tied his hand to a black railing. A gasp of horror escaped her when she saw the two-fingered hand before her.
“The downside of being a cannibal,” Drake said, “is when your boss fancies a snack.”
The man pulled hard at his bonds, making blood spill across his wrist. Drake saw sharpened teeth and a feral snarl. “What does it take to get from human to that?”
“Must be tricky for a stoner,” Alicia said. “I mean, if one night you just say: ‘let’s share a joint, dude.’” She weighed both hands. “What happens?”
The man showed no sign of understanding, no humanity at all. Drake intercepted another attack, doubled the man over and threw him up against the same railing. Snarling, the attacker came right back, blood flying from his skull and hand hanging at a ridiculous angle. Drake winced, but was forced to disable the man again. Even with a broken foot, arm, and blood blinding his eyes he attempted to rise and pounce again.
“They have to be on some kind of drug,” he said. “Hallucinatory? Listen,” he tapped the man on the knee, “if I promise to rustle you up a set of Swedish meatballs will you answer a few questions?”
The face shot forward, the jaws snapping an inch from his fingers. Drake cringed. “Guess not.”
They left both men tied up and moved into the street. Figures stood at every doorway, trying to gain entry. Frustration showed on all the faces they could see. Drake saw many hobbling and bleeding, and assumed the traps they’d fashioned were working just fine. He didn’t shoot anyone except when attacked, but every creature they saw turned and attempted to pounce.
They saw Kinimaka in the middle of the street, throwing smaller beings left and right. His victims struck walls and cracked doors and even went halfway through windows. The Hawaiian was beset with worry for Hayden and just wanted this attack to be over; wanted the morning to come so that they might get word. Drake was worried too, not over their boss’s prowess but over her recent behavior. The thing she was looking for might never show up—what then?
Out in the street and with all the torches still blazing he took in a good view of the village. Knots of villagers accompanied by Mai, Yorgi and Kenzie kept the attackers at bay. Curtis stood at the top of a narrow junction, shooting all who emerged. Desiree stood at his back, facing the other way. Together, the pair scared off more creatures than they shot. Drake grinned and gave them a thumbs up.
“That’s reet good!” he cried. “Watch out for that tosspot!”
Luckily, Curtis didn’t need a translation and noticed the attacker creeping up on them. Drake finally found Dahl, waving a lit torch in the face of three attackers. As he approached, a pair of goats clattered across the dirt road between them, adding more of an unreal sense to the scene. Dahl was standing his ground, but the creatures were on two feet, snarling, lunging at the fire, and pulling back at the last moment. Their faces were savage and barely human in the flames, eyes blazing and mouths drawn back in a hateful rictus.
“Which one of you is first?” The Swede sounded remarkably calm. “Because I assure you, I’m taking all of you down.”
Alicia yelled a warning as a fourth black-clad man leapt from the shadows. Dahl lunged aside, but not fast enough. The cannibal fastened on to Dahl’s leg . . . with his teeth.
Dahl yelled, striking down with the torch. That gave the three he’d been holding at bay chance to attack. Drake was already in motion, racing to his friend’s aid with Alicia a step ahead, but neither of them were truly fast enough.
Kenzie shot from the darkness like a ghostly avenger, face set as hard and grim as old stone. The katana flashed straight down and to the side, flames dancing down its silver blade, glinting along its edges. A creature fell, gurgling his last into the ground. Another flurry of fire, another body fell. Kenzie twisted and turned with grace, evading a clumsy lunge, ending up behind her enemy and running him through. He fell, still with the katana in his chest, wrenching it out of her hand.
“Poor form,” Alicia growled. “There goes your super samurai badge.”
Dahl lifted the fourth attacker, whom he now had gripped around the neck. “Bloody hell! I wanted them all alive.”
Kenzie reached down, stuck her foot on the dead man’s back and yanked her sword free. “Sometimes,” she said. “We don’t always get what we want. But we keep on living.”
Drake wondered about the double-meaning, if indeed there was one. Kenzie always played it close to the chest and Dahl knew her better than anyone. The Swede watched as Kenzie wiped her blade off.
“Thanks for the help.”
Drake surveyed the town. The creatures still came at the citizens in any way they could. From experience he now knew that when he left the area creatures would sneak in and try to steal the bodies of their slain. Not this time. The team rounded up the dead and tied them to nearby stakes or railings, anything they could, with bonds they’d fashioned earlier. If this brought the enemy out of their comfort zone, then the mistakes they made would be all the bigger.
Moving down Main Street, the four made more than a powerful image, they were a force of nature. Kenzie took lead, swinging her katana in epic fashion to left and right, cutting down a swathe of foes. Drake and Alicia came next, to the sides, using handguns to stop charging creatures in their tracks. Arrows whistled between them, passing dangerously close but parting nothing but air. The Mad Swede brought up the rear, tackling foes with a low shoulder, hefting them in the air and bringing them down hard on their spines or necks. Drake grew accustomed to the si
ght of bodies tumbling through the air and sprawling headlong close to his feet. He broke away quickly to deal with a black-clad individual that appeared to be getting the better of a villager, helped the local pierce the attacker with his own knife, then motioned for the villagers to join them.
And proceeded once more up the street.
More melees were stopped, more knots of aggressors taken out. Villagers crowded around the original four, stalking the streets alongside them. Machetes were raised and used, kitchen knives thrust into flesh. Kenzie stayed that little bit ahead of the wedge, unnerving Drake intensely when a severed head flew off the edge of her sword right past his face. Another inch and they’d have been nose to nose.
Kinimaka joined them from the right and Yorgi from the left, the Russian confirming that the two shooters had long since been taken care of. Curtis and Desiree and a dozen others joined them. The slow-marching phalanx was unstoppable, buzzing with energy and comradeship, each person watching the other person’s back, every pair of eyes searching out danger not just for themselves, but for everyone. Drake felt the mood of the villagers change right then, the instillation of belief and confidence a tangible feeling. Those that were scared stood strong. Those that were strong led the way. And the SPEAR team walked with them, proud to be a part of it, happy that they had helped make a difference.
Ahead, Mai waited, an exhausted enemy in each hand, letting them hang so their knees scraped the ground. Her flawless white face was serene as she singled Alicia out among the pack.
“How many, bitch?”
“Three, probably. I don’t think it matters now though, Sprite, do you?”
Drake felt happy for his girlfriend. Inspired enough to suspend her war of words with the Japanese ninja. The ground was littered with dead and groaning bodies, the creatures trying to spirit some away, fleeing between buildings and screaming as they ran, most likely tripping snares on their way back. Smyth reported that he was carefully dispatching a handful, but didn’t want to reveal his position in case he was needed again. Drake stopped as the march staggered to a halt, the villagers looking at each other, around at the village and then to the skies.
Inca Kings (Matt Drake Book 15) Page 21
