Landfall (The Reach, Book 2)

by Mark R. Healy

  He didn’t. He was in the zone, his attention set on one thing and one thing only – the woman beneath him. Now that he had been aroused, it seemed there was nothing else in his mind but the thought of entering her, of having his way with her.

  He finished untying the second belt and dropped it on the floor.

  That left one belt securing Talia around the chest.

  Winny slid down toward her waist again, his eyes as big as saucers. He put his hands on her hips.

  Talia wrenched her legs up with all of her might, and her right knee caught Winny square under the chin. His teeth clacked together and he made a whimpering sound as he was driven upward. He bounced off her chest and then fell to the floor, squealing, blood pouring from his mouth.

  Talia dropped her legs again and brought up her hands, gripping the sides of the table. She clenched her teeth and pushed upward with her lower body, attempting to lever herself out from under the final restraint. Her first attempt only made the belt dig sharply into her chest, and she cried out in pain. She pushed again, and this time the belt slid down toward her neck. With one final lunge she slipped out from under it and tumbled down onto the floor next to Winny.

  He turned toward her, face bloody, but she rammed her elbow at him and felt his nose yield underneath it with a loud crunch.

  That was satisfying.

  Talia stumbled to her feet and made it to the table in the corner, gathering up her holophone and her respirator.

  A door opened right outside the room and she heard footsteps. Saw shadows outside the door.

  Run. Get the hell out of here.

  She turned and fled in the other direction, not really knowing where she was going. She had no idea if there was even an escape route this way. Ultimately it didn’t matter, because there was no other option, no other way to go. She was not going to take down two hardened street thugs with her bare hands, not in the condition she was in. No way.

  She passed through a doorway and into another dingy corridor, this one strewn with broken machine parts and corroded bolts, the walls lined with graffiti. A short distance along, she found a heavy wooden door that was open a crack, but when she pushed at it there was no give.

  There were shouts in the room behind her. She heard the hysterical sound of Crumb’s voice, then the more measured tone of Capper’s voice. Winny bleated something in return.

  Talia shoved at the door and it groaned outward, far enough for her to slip through. She stumbled forward and found herself in a wide-open floor space that was filled with more dilapidated mechanisms and a gang walk that led up to smaller offices that lined the outer perimeter of the space.

  More importantly, Talia could see sunlight pouring through several windows at either end of the room. That gave her hope that she might find a way out of there after all.

  More footsteps. Her pursuers were in the corridor behind her. They would be coming through in seconds, which wouldn’t give her enough time to make it to the windows.

  Talia moved in amongst the array of old machines, treading lightly to mask the sound of her footsteps. She had not gone very far before she heard a calamitous, splintering crash as the door behind her was slammed open. The noise reverberated around the open space for what seemed like an eternity, and she used the opportunity to increase her pace, hoping they would not hear her as she moved about.

  She glanced behind every few steps, thinking that she would surely see one of them appear, but it seemed that they had not yet spotted her through the cluster of machines.

  Then she reached the edge of the factory floor, the place where the last of the mechanisms stood, and looked across to the windows set into the wall. She could see where one window had been smashed in the lower right corner, providing a small aperture through which she might be able to squeeze. The only problem was that there was no cover in that direction, and the way the light was streaming in through the windows, it would surely cast a shadow as she approached it, alerting her pursuers to her location.

  She eased along behind the rusted bulk of the nearest mechanism and looked back toward the doorway. To her utter amazement, Capper and Crumb were still standing just before the entrance, silent as they surveyed the factory floor. Capper in particular looked as though he were trying to locate her by scent, his chin tilted up and his lips pressed together as he slowly moved his head from side to side.

  As she watched, Crumb seemed to lose patience and took a step forward, but Capper calmly reached out and gripped him by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

  Talia could see the leather tool bag in Capper’s other hand.

  Bastard must take that thing everywhere.

  From their current line of sight they would see her as she moved across to the window, and she wasn’t sure she could make it through the gap before they reached her – at least not without ripping herself to shreds on the jagged edges of glass. She had to get them to move away somehow.

  She looked around for ideas, and her eyes fell upon several small, shiny discs in the dust at her feet. She scooped them up and brushed away the dirt. They were metal washers.

  She hefted one in her hand, feeling the weight of it. Then she looked around for a target.

  They’re not going to fall for this, she thought dismally. But what have I got to lose?

  She did not have the arm strength to throw the washer to the other end of the room, so that was out of the question. Her eyes lifted and she looked up to the gang walk and the rooms on the higher level.

  Here goes nothing.

  She cocked her arm and let fly. The washer curved through the gloom and clattered through the doorway of one of the offices above. As her eyes returned to the two men, she saw Crumb set off immediately, shrugging away from Capper’s grip impatiently. Capper stood and watched as Crumb began to scale the walkway in soft, shuffling steps.

  Come on, Capper. Move.

  Talia glanced back at the window. Maybe she would just have to run and take her chances. If she dived through she would take a few nasty cuts, and the men would be alerted to her escape, but it might be enough of a lead to lose them in the city beyond.

  One thing was for sure – if she continued to sit here they would find her sooner or later.

  Crumb had disappeared inside the dim innards of the first office. She had a good head start on him if she decided to run right now.

  But when she looked back at the doorway, Capper was nowhere to be found.

  She felt a moment of panic, jerking her head from side to side to try to locate him again, but he had disappeared.

  He was in here somewhere with her, within this network of mechanisms.

  Terrified, she got up and ran, striding out across the concrete floor toward the window. She reached it in only a matter of seconds, and although she could now hear footsteps behind her, she did not look back.

  She squeezed through the gap in the window, somehow avoiding the razor-like shards of glass, then tumbled out the short distance to the alley below.

  She hit the asphalt with a thud, scraping her shoulder, but she barely felt it. In one motion she rolled to her feet and began to run along the alleyway that ran beside the factory.

  The acrid taint of the outside air had never smelled so sweet.

  13

  Knile was running through Lux at full tilt, galloping across the avenues at such a pace that he easily overtook the Autos that were trundling along beside him. The passengers stared at him, perplexed at the unusual sight of a man in maintenance gear sprinting across the polished floors. Such an activity was out of place in Lux, the home of orderliness and dignity.

  He was making a scene and he knew it, but to Knile that had become a far-distant concern. There was only one thing that mattered – getting to Roman in the shortest time possible. There was no point in creeping about trying to avoid detection. Should the Enforcers be alerted, so be it. There was no time left for caution.

  He tried to remain calm and focussed as he ran, but emotions began to roil in
side of him, heedless of his will. He kept picturing Roman’s lifeless form slumped over a plush sofa in an imaginary apartment on Elk Parade, his blood seeping across the white carpet below, his eyes unseeing.

  It was an image that horrified him, but which he couldn’t push from his mind.

  You were supposed to look after him.

  Knile felt as though he were teetering on the edge, that he was going to break down in front of these uncaring socialites with their vacant stares. And what would they think of that, if he started bawling on top of everything else?

  Keep it together. A little further.

  His mind kept jumping to random memories of Roman, of the choices he had made. He didn’t want those thoughts of ten years ago to return, but he found himself powerless to stop them.

  After leaving Roman in the cavity inside the clothing factory, Knile had cautiously found his way back out into the streets. The Enforcers that had been pursuing him were gone, as he had expected. There was little incentive for them to expend so much effort in chasing one small-time hood. Knile had made a science out of playing hide-and-seek with them over the years, and he invariably won.

  The walk back across Link had taken him a long time. Night had fallen when he finally approached the little apartment he called home. It was nestled within the ground floor of an old, squarish, grey block of flats – a modest place to say the least – but the only thing he and the others had been able to afford.

  He went inside and closed the door behind him. Talia glanced up briefly from where she was sitting repairing a leather boot with needle and thread. She seemed to give him a once-over, then went back to her work. Holt was perched over the workbench in the kitchen, poring over a conglomeration of circuit boards and capacitors, his long curly hair hanging down over his face.

  “Yo, finally,” Holt said, throwing up his hands. “Thought you’d never get back, Knile-o.”

  “Hey,” Knile greeted them. Then, to Holt, “What’s the matter?”

  “Where’s the solder, man? I thought you said we still had some.”

  “Yeah,” Knile said. “It’s out back. Right-hand side, second shelf from the bottom.”

  “Well, I already looked there.”

  “It’s there, Holt.”

  Holt gave him a weary smile. “All right, I’ll go look again. But if it’s not there, you’re in for a world of hurt, Knile-o.”

  “Terrified,” Knile remarked. As Holt left the room, Knile turned to Talia. “Hey, is Mianda back yet?”

  Talia did not look up from her needlework. “Funny thing, Knile. Mianda fired me last week. I’m no longer her secretary.”

  Knile smirked. “Yeah. Real funny.”

  Now Talia glanced up, perturbed. “I don’t keep tabs on everything she does, Knile. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

  Knile glimpsed himself in the mirror that hung by the kitchen as he passed. He looked a mess. He ran a hand through his hair, straightening a few of the tufts that stood at right angles from his scalp, making himself look at least partially respectable. Talia snorted contemptuously.

  “What?” he said.

  “Look at you,” she said. “Preening yourself like a cockatoo. What’s gotten into you?”

  Knile stepped away from the mirror. “Nothing. It’s been a long day and I look like crap.”

  Talia rested her elbow on the boot she had been working on and regarded him thoughtfully.

  “In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you try to make yourself look pretty. You’re getting as bad as she is.”

  “Who?”

  Talia rolled her eyes. “Mianda. Who else? That’s all she does all day. Fusses over which shade of lipstick to wear instead of doing anything useful around here.”

  “That’s bullshit, Talia–”

  “Look, I get it, all right?” Talia said. “She’s the shiny new toy around here. You don’t see beyond the glamour.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

  Knile had sensed a simmering jealousy within Talia in the months since Mianda had joined the crew, but he had not realised the full extent of it until now. She’d gotten herself into quite a state, her face flushed and her movements with the needle jerky and accentuated. Knile had never seen her react to something in quite this way. It was most unlike her.

  Knile took a step closer to her. “What’s the matter with you? Is there something else going on?”

  “No,” she said sharply. “Forget about it.” She looked up at him, her face still reddened. “How’d you go out there, anyway? You were gone a long time.”

  “No good. Ran into Enforcers over past Ipswich Avenue.”

  “Who were they after? You or the fence?”

  “The fence, I think. They came after him, and when they looked like coming after me I broke one guy’s nose. They changed their target after that.”

  Talia stared at him, incredulous. “You broke an Enforcer’s nose? Again?”

  Knile shrugged. “Well, yeah, but–”

  “It’s no wonder they’re after you all the time when you antagonise them so much.”

  “It was an accident,” Knile groaned.

  “Like the time the other Enforcer’s face fell on your foot.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And what did this guy fall on?”

  Before Knile could answer, there was a shout and the sound of scuffling out back. The two of them exchanged a brief, worried glance, and then Knile began to move across the floor to investigate. Before he could make the doorway, Holt emerged with a grubby, wriggling child in his grasp.

  “Another crab for the pot!” Holt announced, hoisting the child upward as if showing off a prize catch. “It’s time we made an example of one of these thieving little shits–”

  “Wait!” Knile said as Holt headed toward the front door. The boy ceased his wriggling and turned to look at Knile, a scowl on his face.

  It was the boy from the cavity in the factory wall.

  “I know this one,” Knile said, easing Holt’s arm downward until the boy’s feet touched the floor. “Roman, right?”

  The boy nodded sullenly.

  “Where’s he from?” Holt said doubtfully.

  “I’ve seen him around.” Knile waved at the other man. “Just leave him to me.”

  Holt released his grip but held up a finger as he issued a warning.

  “If I catch him sneaking around again, he won’t get off so light.”

  The boy’s scowl deepened as Holt stalked away. Talia moved around to get a better look at him, but the boy ignored her, his eyes remaining on the doorway through which Holt had departed.

  “I don’t like him,” Roman said quietly.

  “What’s going on here?” Talia said, glancing between Roman and Knile in confusion.

  “Did you follow me all this way, Roman?” The boy said nothing. Knile leaned down to his eye level. “Did you follow me half way across Link?”

  “I was just walking around,” the boy said. In this improved light he seemed even more grubby and dishevelled than before, and there was a pungent odour arising from his clothes.

  “It’s okay,” Knile said. “I’m not angry with you.” He straightened. “In fact, I’m pretty amazed. Not many people can keep up with me.”

  “They’re slow. I’m fast.”

  Talia gave Knile a curious smile, her animosity from before seemingly forgotten. She got down on one knee.

  “My name is Talia. Where are you from, Roman?”

  “The cave.”

  She glanced up at Knile, who briefly recounted their encounter of a few hours before.

  “But that was the other side of town,” she said. “Why did you come all this way, Roman?”

  He lifted a plastic bag that was clutched in his hand and rummaged inside, then brought out the dinosaur toy that he and Knile had built together.

  “You forgot Dinosaur Robot,” he said, holding it up to Knile. “I was going to leave
it out the back for you, but that nasty man grabbed me.”

  “Don’t worry about Holt,” Knile assured him. “His bark is worse than his bite.” He took the toy and turned it over in his hands. “Thank you for bringing this to me, Roman.”

  “He pulled my hair, too,” Roman said grumpily. “And he called me a little toad.”

  Talia laughed. Knile could see that she liked the boy already. She was not generally one to take pity on every stray street kid that crossed her path, but there was something about Roman’s lonely plight and his plucky attitude that obviously tugged at her emotions, much as it had done with Knile.

  “It’s getting late,” she said. “Why don’t you stay here for the night, Roman?”

  The boy shook his head. “No. This is not my home.”

  She looked down at his bare feet. They were black with filth and covered in scabs.

  “How about this?” she offered. “You hang around for a little while, and I’ll measure you up for some boots. I can make them right here, tonight. After that, you can take them and go on your way if that’s what you want.”

  Roman shook his head. “Boots aren’t good for me.”

  “Why not?” she said.

  “I don’t know how to tie the knots.”

  “Leave that to me,” Knile said. “I can teach you how to tie a hundred knots.”

  “You can not,” Roman said dubiously.

  “Yeah, I can. Teach you how to untie them, too.” He pointed at the bag. “I’m sure we could make some more toys as well.”

  The boy finally seemed to brighten at that prospect.

  “Really? I brought the glue. Just in case.”

  “Sure,” Knile said, gesturing to the nearby sofa. “Come on over. Let’s see what we can do.”

  Roman shuffled across the floor and eased himself up onto the sofa, and Knile sat next to him. Talia returned to her stool, picking up where she’d left off with her boot, a faint smile on her face.

  “What are we gonna call this one?” Roman said enthusiastically.

  “How about Dinosaur Robot Two?”