by Jack Lewis
Heather looked around her but saw nothing. “It’s for the dogs,” she said.
Wes’s cheeks were blotched. He wore a guilty expression.
“Something wrong?” said Heather.
He rubbed his neck. “I just…no.”
“If you want to get out of here you better follow my lead.”
Eric had already coated his neck and arms in blood. He looked like a butcher’s apprentice who had lost a battle with a steak. Heather scooped a palm full of blood and swabbed it across her daughter’s forehead, around her face, and followed the curve of her jaw.
Kim wrinkled her nose. The parts of her face untouched by blood turned whiter than snow. She retched.
“It’s not for long, honey.”
“I’m okay.”
Heather rubbed her back with one hand, and with the other gave herself a bloody makeover.
The yap of the dogs grew louder. Heather supported Kim off the pavement and next to a house, where a wood fence shielded them from view. Eric followed, letting his hand slide along the fence and leaving a trail of blood on the wood.
Wes came last. His cheeks had dots of blood on them, but not enough to disguise the smell.
There was the patter of small feet as the dogs walked by the fence. Heather’s heart rattled in her chest, and she gripped Kim’s arm. It only takes one overly-curious mutt, and we’re screwed. From then, it would be seconds until the Capita soldiers had them under arrest.
Walk on. Nothing to see here. Don’t look at us.
She held her breath as the dogs filed by them. Kim was standing so close to her there was barely a centimetre between them. Tension filed her. Had the dogs gone yet? What was taking them so long?
Eric went to move.
“Be still,” she whispered.
Eric peered through a hole in the fence panel. Heather’s pulse fired like a machine gun. Seconds later - hours in Heather’s head - Eric lifted his thumb in the air. With the dogs gone she let the air out of her chest, and she relaxed her fingers from Kim’s shoulder.
She wanted to starting moving, but her natural caution held her in place. The barking of the dogs drifted away, but she could hear the infected’s groans nearby.
Boots pounded the concrete beyond the fence, and a man spoke.
“Sarge told me he wanted me to apply for a posting in the Dome. When I give him the paperwork an hour later, he tells me it’s too late and I should have applied days ago.”
“What a prick.”
“Yeah.”
The voices of the Capita soldiers were matched by the sound of their boots as they marched. They walked side by side, one of them holding a rolled-up chain in his right hand.
“Keep quiet and we’ve got a clear pass,” whispered Heather.
Come on. Just a few more minutes and we can go.
Wes moved away from the fence.
Heather grabbed for him, but missed. “What are you doing?” said Heather.
“Hey,” he said, waving his arms. “They’re here. I found them.”
The soldiers raised their guns. “Don’t move.”
“I work for you guys,” said Wes. “The mouth breather is down here.”
Her stomach sank. She pulled Kim close to her. There was an alleyway in front of her, but running wouldn’t do any good now.
You rotten bastard.
Wes stared deep into Heather’s eyes as the Capita soldiers approached.
“I’m doing what it takes to live,” he said, and pointed his gun at her.
Chapter Twenty
Heather
The soldier prodded the tip of his gun into her waist. “Quit squirming,”
“Where’s the bull?” said the other soldier.
“On his way.”
Horse hooves clip-clopped from down the street. A horse and cart turned the corner, rolling to a stop in front of them. A Capita solider prodded the handle of his butcher knife into Heather’s back and made her walk toward it.
The stern-eyed soldier nodded at Wes. “Stretch out your arms.”
“I’m the one who found them,” Wes said. “All part of the plan - ask Charles. He knows. I sell stuff to you guys, I’m one of you.”
“Shut him up, will you?” said a soldier.
“Wait…come on…I helped-”
The soldier punched Wes in the face, knocking him out.
By the time Charles arrived, the soldiers had tied Wes’s hands. He wore a black eye to match his busted nose.
Seeing the bounty hunter, tendrils of dread took root in Heather’s stomach. Her exhausted mind raced through all the possible outcomes. What would happen to Kim and Eric when they were taken to the Capita? Would their paths lead them to different fates?
The bounty hunter made his horse trot next to the cart. He pulled at the reigns, and the animal halted.
“Good lad, Ken,” he said, and stroked the horse’s black hair.
Charles’s long black coat covered his body, hiding the wounds Eric inflicted on him. Despite his injuries, he still seemed strong. Was this the same man who had fled from her house, with blood pouring from him?
“You got a lot of fight in you,” said Charles.
She couldn’t read anything in his eyes. He didn’t look angry, but Charles’s anger boiled below the surface, and it only spewed out when he allowed it.
“I could say the same about you.”
“It bodes well for your daughter,” he said, “If she’s anything like you. They love tough bodies at the farm. We get more meat from them before they break.”
With their search over, the Capita soldiers rounded up their infected and linked their chains to the bracelets around their necks. It was strange none of the soldiers ever got bitten. Were they experienced handlers, or could the infected be trained?
The same couldn’t be said about the dogs. One soldier bent at the knee and grabbed the collar of a Rottweiler-Husky half breed. The dog curled its top lip to show yellow teeth. The soldier’s forehead screwed up. His right hand twitched toward a hand axe which hung off his belt.
“Heel, Silas,” he said, his voice so deep it was almost a growl.
The dog’s hind legs bent as if getting ready to spring, and man and beast stared at each other. The dog’s ears relaxed, its lips uncurled, and it trotted over to him.
“Every bloody time,” said the soldier, and pulled the dog toward him for an affectionate hug.
Wes leaned forward in his seat, but the soldier in front of him pushed him back. Heather wished the soldier would hit him. She’d beaten him up bad herself, but he deserved worse.
She could only see the back of the soldier in front of Wes. What kind of man was he? The answer to that would decide how he’d treat Wes. Some soldiers loved to use the power they had over others. She hoped this soldier enjoyed his authority enough to abuse it.
“Armstrong,” said Charles.
The soldier turned around. She recognised the vein-like scar on his cheek; it was Max Armstrong.
“Sir?” said Max, emphasising the word to make it seem sarcastic.
Charles pointed. “Take Miss Castle and the trader to the Dome.”
Wes wriggled forward again. “Why me?”
Charles leaned into the seat of his horse. He stroked the side of the animal’s head as he spoke. “How many people do you plan to double-cross, trader? As many as you can get away with, I’ll bet. You made your bed, so you can die in it.”
He looked at the soldiers at the foot of the cart. One of them turned from Charles’s gaze. Heather wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to look at the bounty hunter; his own men feared him.
“Take the boy and the girl and put them on the other cart. They’re going to the compound for processing. The train leaves in two days, and I want them on it.”
Did he say train? Heather heard rumours that high ranking Capita officers made use of carefully-maintained cars, but she never imagined they had an operational train.
Charles tugged on the reigns of his horse. Th
e animal snorted and then stopped. The bounty hunter pointed at Kim. “Stand up,” he said.
Heather wanted to do something, but what? Max Armstrong was in front of her, and two soldiers were sitting at the bottom of the cart. Across the estate, other soldiers gathered their infected to re-chain them, and a few dog handlers clipped leads to the necks of the Capita’s canines.
What could she do? If she grabbed Kim and started running, they would get ten metres before a set of teeth clamped on their calves.
She shrank back in her seat. It’s all gone to hell. What good was she to anyone? She’d screwed everything up. After Kim’s father went – she refused say the bastard’s name, even in her head –she assumed the role of protector. She’d tried to get her daughter away from the Capita, but she’d failed. Now she was going to be taken further into the maze than she’d ever been. What monster waited in the middle?
“Give your daughter a hug,” said Charles. “It’ll be the last one you’ll get.”
“I’m not letting you take her.”
He tugged the reigns. The horse wheezed. “Look around you. Do you think you have much of a say?”
“I won’t let you, you bastard.”
“I don’t care about insults, Heather, but the harder you make this for me, the more your child will suffer. Give your daughter a hug.”
She looked around again, as if the passage of time would magically alter the scene. Nothing changed; Capita soldiers strolled idly by, while their dogs strained at their leather leads. She had to stay calm. The worst thing would be to give Charles a reason to kill her.
“I won’t wait much longer,” said Charles.
Heather opened her arms. Kim, eyes tearing up and legs shaking, met her embrace. She pulled Kim close to her chest, closed her eyes and squeezed. Tears fought to spill out of her eyes, and Kim trembled against her. Eric walked across the cart and threw his arms around Kim.
“I’ll come back for you,” Heather whispered. She meant every word more than she’d ever meant anything in her life.
“Do it,” said Charles.
“Do wha-” said Heather.
Something blunt smashed on the back of her head. Her legs turned to water and her world plunged into darkness.
Chapter Twenty-One
Heather
The jolt of the wheels brought Heather back from the dark. The light strained into her eyes, and her temples throbbed with pain. Was this real, or was it another layer to the nightmare she’d been having?
In the nightmare, she was in the school swimming baths. Her legs might as well have been made of lead, and a fin glided through the water in graceful zigzags.
As the shape got nearer and she saw its mass underneath the water, it wasn’t a fin poking out of the water. It was the long black beak of a mask. Charles Bull emerged in a spray of water.
“Let me off this fucking thing,” said Wes.
Fear undercut the trader’s voice so the words wobbled out of his mouth. Red scratches on his wrists marked his failed attempts to slip his ropes.
Heather lifted her arms to her face. With bound hands, she brushed her hair away from her forehead. The strands stuck to her skin in clumps, glued by the sweat covering her.
“Where are you taking me?” she said.
“The Dome,” said a soldier to her right.
At the end of the cart, one solider was sitting with reigns in his hand and his back hunched. He concentrated on the terrain in front of him.
They were in the wilderness now. It was still Capita territory, but nobody settled here. It had been a protected nature reserve once, but nobody came here anymore if they could help it.
The cart followed a rough stone path. The driver leaned forward in his seat and held the reigns tight in his hand. The soldier next to him spoke.
“Better stop,” he said.
It was Max. It seemed Charles had trusted Max to deal with Heather and Wes, but what did that mean for the kids?
The road ahead forked into opposite directions. She had no clue where either of them led. She didn’t know anything about the wasteland. Their plan had been stupid, really. Even if she and Kim managed to get enough supplies together to leave the Capita lands, where would they go?
The soldier on the end of the cart stood up. “Why’ve we stopped?”
Max stepped onto the cart. Dust covered his mask, but Heather could still see the smiley face he’d drawn on it. He stood in front of the other soldier.
He pulled a knife from his belt and stabbed the soldier in the throat. The man put a hand to his neck, but his legs collapsed under him. He hit the ground on his back and gurgled.
Heather squirmed away. What the hell was he doing?
“It’s okay,” Max told Heather. “Hold up your hands.”
He sliced at the rope binding her, then worked on the one around her ankles. When he finished, he did the same for Wes.
Wes jumped over the side of the cart. He hit the ground with his knees, then straightened up. He tried to run away, but he could only limp. He cleared ten metres before Max caught him. He punched him so hard in the back of the head he fell over. He grabbed Wes’s ankles and dragged him back across the grass.
The driver and turned around, holding the reigns in one hand. When he saw the soldier on the ground, he stepped back so suddenly he almost tripped over his seat.
“Goddamn it,” he said.
He snapped his head to the left , where Max approached the cart with the unconscious trader. Dropping his reins, he pulled a clay hammer from a loop on his belt.
He was about to step off the cart toward Max, when Heather grabbed his leg, sending him face first to the ground. Reacting quicker than his rival, Max stabbed the driver in the back of his neck.
He picked up Wes and pushed him onto the side of the cart. Heather grabbed Wes’s collar and helped get him aboard. Max grabbed the railing, put his foot on a wheel and swung onto the vehicle. He sat, ran his hand over his face to wipe away the sweat and let his breath catch up with him.
Heather didn’t know what to say, because she didn’t know what had happened. She waited as Max brought himself under control. He clenched his fist, and he tapped his foot on the floor of the cart.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
He closed his eyes for a second. Opening them, he spoke. “Give me a minute.”
A crease ran across his forehead as if it was a worry that wouldn’t leave. He straightened in his seat. He put the knife back in his belt and rested a boot on Wes’s back.
“You’ve heard of the Resistance?” he said.
Heather nodded. Speech still wouldn’t come.
“Then you will understand what I did.”
She had so many questions for him, but he put a hand out, stopping her.
“Best you let me tell this,” he said. “I’ve been living a lie so long it’ll be good to say something true for once.”
He ran his hand across his forehead. “I’m from Kiele, in the south. Came to the Capita three years ago and joined the force. Rose through the ranks and tried to find out what their big plan was.”
Questions wriggled around Heather’s head like worms, and she couldn’t say anything until they settled. It was better to let him talk.
“Big plan?”
“The Capita are working on something. We could smell it miles away, even in Kiele, but we couldn’t get close enough to learn the details. We used to have a guy inside the army, but one day he was found swinging from the beams by his bootlaces, with silver coins in his throat.”
“Why silver?” said Heather.
“That guy in the old stories. You know, the Betrayer. They were letting everyone know he had crossed the Capita. They must have found out he was one of us.”
“I don’t know why anyone would risk it,” she said. “Living in the barracks, knowing you could be found out any minute. Doesn’t seem worth it.”
He gave a slight smile. “You sound like my wife.”
“She must be a se
nsible woman.”
He shook his head. “It’s been three years since I left. Wish I would have listened to her. She was expecting our child when I went. She told me it was going be a girl. There’s no way she could have known, but that’s Olivia for you. She has these weird feelings about stuff.”
