It was a kind of paradise up here – nature still busy reclaiming the land. But it was deadly. Signy quickly stopped admiring the view. She grabbed her binoculars and started peering around, desperate for her first glimpse of the halfmen.
‘Do they live in these houses?’
‘Oh, they’ll live anywhere – under a bush, in a house, it’s all the same to them.’
‘Why don’t they fix things?’
The guard shrugged. ‘Too vicious to be bothered about keeping things together. I’ve heard some of’em occasionally fix the houses with bricks, they can just about mix the mortar and put one brick on top of the next, but that’s about it.’
‘I thought they were supposed to be clever,’ said Signy.
‘When it comes to murdering, they’re clever enough. That‘s what they’re made for. But they’re too vicious to think of anything else.’ The guard nodded knowingly. ‘Think of them as insects. Giant ants. Munch, munch, munching their way across the place.’
‘Machines made of flesh and blood,’ said Signy with relish.
‘And from their point of view, try to think of yourself as a pile of sausages, freshly fried. That way you won’t go far wrong.’
Signy laughed. At least the guard wasn’t too scared to talk normally. ‘And what about you? How shall I think of you, then? Not sausages as well, surely?’
‘I like to think of myself as a nice little lamb chop, actually,’ said the guard, which was a joke. He was about two metres high, a big tough-looking bloke. He was covered in weaponry. There was a machine gun mounted on the pylon, a rocket launcher and something that might have been a bazooka. Even the Birds wouldn’t care to attack that little lot.
‘A rather heavily-armed lamb chop’ said Signy.
‘You’ll be safe with me. As far as the halfmen are concerned, I’m doomsday.’
‘OK. I’ll call you Doomsday Chop, then.’ They laughed at that. Signy put her binoculars back up. She peered into the trees, into the dark little caverns of the bushes, around the half-fallen brickwork. Spider-men, bird-women, children of the snake. Where were they all?
‘Will we see anything of the hunt?’ she asked.
‘Doubt it,’ said the guard. He laughed cheerfully. Up here with the princess was as safe as anywhere, an easy posting. He’d been told by Conor to keep her amused. ‘I don’t think Conor’ll let much come this way. But you never know with halfmen.’
*
The two of them began a long wait. It wasn’t cold, but it was uncomfortable with the wind shouting in your ears all the time non-stop. Every now and then Signy would hear the sound of motors and she’d lean forward and stare through her binoculars. She caught a glimpse of the Land Rovers a couple of times – just a flash of grey metal racing among the cracked streets. Once she thought she got a glimpse of rough fur, but whatever it was bolted and was gone among the cover. Her best sighting was when another small cloud of those strange-looking birds rose into the air far away. It seemed to her that they had the faces of girls; but that far off it was difficult to be sure even with the binoculars.
She and Doomsday Chop amused themselves pretty well, but it was clear that the guard was right. Conor had decided it was all right for her to come on a halfman hunt so long as she didn’t see any halfmen. The automatic pistol she wore under her coat was a mere courtesy. The heavy duty machine gun mounted on the pylon and other hardware would keep the halfmen well away. She was in no danger at all. It was bitterly disappointing.
As the day drew on the clouds gathered and the wind grew colder. When the rain began to spit and then drizzle, it became really unpleasant. There was no shelter and it was far too dangerous to get down even if they could have. Doomsday had some food with him, a little picnic basket which he’d been given for Signy and his own packed lunch. She shared her luxuries with him – hot tea, wine and smoked ham. She ate some of his rough bread, which tasted full of grit.
‘You’ll have stomach ache and I’ll have the squits,’ said Doomsday.
‘Anyway, look, the halfmen can’t be all bad. They must have smuggled this tea in – everything has to come through the halfman lands. So it’s possible to trade with them at least.’
‘Oh yes, if you provide what they want, they can get you anything.’
‘What’s that, then?’
‘Human flesh,’ said the guard with great satisfaction.
‘Flesh? Don’t be daft. My father doesn’t trade in flesh,’ said Signy indignantly. ‘And neither does Conor,’ she added.
Doomsday shrugged. ‘I don’t know what your father does. As for Conor, well, he’ trying to change everything, isn’t he?’
‘You can talk to me – it’ll just be between us,’ Signy promised.
But the guard just grinned ruefully and refused to talk.
‘And the halfmen must trade with Outside to get this stuff. Does Outside give them human flesh as well?’
‘Must do. But I suppose there are other things. The tanks, for instance. They give them womb tanks, so they breed new versions of themselves.’
‘Do they really? To make a brand new creature – but they must be very clever, then!’
‘Easy! The technology does it all for you. All you have to do is spit in it, or get a few hairs of the creature you want to add, that sort of thing. The technology extracts the DNA for you. Even a halfman can spit.’
They finished their food. The grey rain cloud had gone, although it looked as though there were more on the way. Everything was fresh, clean and wet… and they were trapped sixty metres above ground, stuck in a chill wind.
They played games, twenty questions and I-Spy. They told jokes. But the cold wind was slowly chilling their bones. Even in her out-of-town luxury, Signy felt that her bones were slowly turning to stone.
About halfway through the afternoon they heard the sound of vehicles for the first time in hours. The guard got to his feet, making creaking noises as he did so.
‘At last!’ he groaned. The easy posting had turned into something of a torment. He leaned over the railings and peered through the bushes. Signy already had her binoculars out.
‘Let’s hope they’ve had enough of the rain. At least you’ll get to see some halfmen, even if it’s only dead ones.’
‘Dead’s no use,’ said Signy sadly. All the fun and danger had gone out of her life since she became important. She stood up to try and get a better view.
A Land Rover came bursting through the bushes and it was suddenly obvious that something was wrong. The car was going far too fast, bouncing and veering madly from side to side. From further back, more cars appeared, three of them, charging after the first one.
‘What’s going on?’ The guard pulled out his own binoculars and had them to his eyes just as Signy cried out, ‘It’s a halfman – a half man at the wheel!’
‘They can’t drive,’ insisted the guard scornfully, but even as he said it he got his vision onto the hairy arms, the paws pressed against the steering wheel. The creature had no proper hands, which perhaps accounted for its terrible driving.
The guard dropped his bins and took up his gun. He was scared to spray the vehicle in case there were humans inside. Halfmen were well known for their love of taking hostages. But he managed to fire a burst of bullets at the tyres. The car swerved – the way it was being driven it didn’t seem possible that it would carry on missing things for long anyway – and slewed sideways into the ruins of a house.
There was a quiet second; then halfmen began to pour out of the car. Big ones, small ones. They could hear them yelping, barking and shouting. It must have been full to the brim with them. At last Signy got her first good look.
They were squat, hairy creatures, these ones – all the same type, more or less. Their heads were so heavy they sank down onto their chests. You could tell at a glance how powerful their necks and jaws were; these animals could crunch your thigh bone like a sugar stick. They were straight in the back, high in the shoulder and had small, powerful, squat r
umps. They tumbled out of the car yowling and yipping and gibbering. Out of the wind, Signy was sure she could make out a few words.
‘Over there, no, not that way… you…’
‘Can they speak much?’ she asked the guard.
‘Only to lie,’ growled the guard. He had his rifle up at his shoulder. Now he released a violent hail of bullets down into the clustered group of beasts, before they had a chance to separate and spread out.
Half a dozen went down under the spray. Signy got a look through her binoculars at a big one, pausing to look up over its shoulder at her and the guard. Its face was a picture of hatred, malice and fear.
‘But…’
‘What?’
‘It looks human!’
‘Not half human enough,’ said the guard, releasing another hail of bullets. The halfman below danced – avoiding them or taking them, she couldn’t say. By now the pursuing cars were drawing close, and firing came from other directions as well. Almost all were down, but the big dog Signy had seen was still on his feet, trying to gather the group together, snatching at the little ones. Another hail of bullets cracked out; the creature ducked its head, shoved the few it had gathered in front of it, sank to all fours and ran. On all fours, the creatures lost any semblance they had to humans. The turn of speed they took on was horrifying, as if they had engines within them. Maybe they did.
Then they were gone, diving away in between the circle of four-wheelers that had been forming around them. The cars squealed and spun in the mud and roared off after them.
It was over. Like so much violence, it took only a moment in time. The wind whipped away the sound of the cars racing away over the bumpy ground. The hunt – or massacre, whatever it was – was going to finish out of sight.
‘Filthy bastards,’ growled the guard. ‘Filthy beasts…’ Like most humans, the mere thought of the halfmen filled him with hatred. Signy looked at his face and saw… hatred, malice, fear. She turned away to follow the scene with her binoculars, but it had all vanished.
‘Do you think they’ll get them all?’ she asked, scanning the bushes. She thought she could see movement where the cars might be, a long way off. But the speed at which the beasts moved was frightening. They could be anywhere already. The guard made a noise behind her.
‘What?’ said Signy. ‘What did you say?’ And as she spoke, she heard another noise – a breath, a gasp behind her, and felt at the same time a light pressure on her waist. She spun round. The halfman she had seen below a couple of minutes before was sitting a metre away from her, staring her in the face.
‘Guard!’ she screamed and, using an old trick, pointed behind the creature’s shoulder as she reached for her hand gun. But her gun was gone.
‘Lost something? Hey ho. Hey ho,’ crooned the creature. The pistol dangled loosely from its monster’s claw. The halfman shook his head and pointed down to the ground.
‘Gone for a dive,’ it said. Its claws and jaws were red with blood.
21
signy
It was going to take about one second for it to tear me to pieces. I flinched and I expected to be dead before I’d finished flinching. But there I still was, clutching the side railings. The halfman slobbered and grinned.
‘But…’
‘I climbed,’ the creature growled. I thought, gods! We were sixty metres above the ground.
It was dressed in a grubby wax jacket. It was sitting with its arms resting on its knees. It was more than half hyena, but maybe a splash of leopard was in it. All the time as I stared at it, its face was working, twitching.
I thought, kill me now! What are you waiting for? But it just sat there watching me, swinging my gun lazily from its finger. I glanced down. I could have fallen from fear. I could see the guard’s body tiny as a broken toy on the ground below.
‘Gone for a dive,’ it said again. I snatched at the gun, but it just tossed it over its shoulder. I watched it tumble and turn in the air. It clattered on the metal struts and was gone into the grass.
‘You’re dead,’ I told it. I was getting ready to fight, but this thing was designed to kill. ‘They’re bound to get you.’
‘But not before I’ve got you, eh?’ wheezed the halfman. The sounds of shouting came over from behind; it glanced backwards, over its shoulder.
‘You’re dead,’ I said again. I’d never been so scared. I wanted it to be scared too. ‘You know it.’
‘Yes, yes,’ admitted the halfman. ‘My death. Or we could make a deal…’ It looked at me curiously and slobbered.
I felt a sudden little splash of hope, but then I thought, they never make deals! Everyone said so. It was just playing with me.
‘You’re not even human,’ I spat. The halfman sighed and rubbed its head.
‘Perhaps I should kill you now?’ It sounded as if it was asking me. Its heavy head hung so low on its shoulders it had to peer at me from under its hairy eyebrows.
‘Why don’t you?’ I sneered. I was so scared!
The halfman sniggered, a sort of funny giggle. ‘It won’t save me,’ it said. ‘Why should I kill you for no reason? Why should I sink to your level? Hmm? Well, well?’
I just stared. There wasn’t a word of sense in me.
The halfman spread his hands. ‘I’m a trader,’ he said. ‘Name’s Karl.’ He grinned at me. ‘What did you expect – Fido? I trade between King Conor and the towns. I have good contacts. Jewellery, wine, electrical goods. Sometimes even weapons. I make – made – a good living. But King Conor wants my prices to be lower. He always wants them to be lower. So I lower them and lower them until it’s pointless. Then I refuse. Then King Conor organises a halfman hunt.’ The creature shrugged. ‘It’s always the same. He’ll seek my stores and steal everything. He’ll slaughter my wives and my children and my people, to show that it’s best to obey him. He’s right, it’s best to obey him. But maybe it’s better to have no dealings with the human. See?’ The halfman sneered at me. ‘You deal with the human part of the halfman till you get bored with it, then you can hunt down the animal. Easy. Easy. That’s your level, girly.’
I was so outraged I couldn’t speak. He was a halfman! How could he compare his filthy murders with Conor! Conor had his faults – I’d been finding that out – but he was no halfman. You have to make hard decisions sometimes if you’re a ruler, I knew all about that. This thing wasn’t even human!
It was some trick, that’s all. I thought, he just wants to try to get me to help him escape, and then he’d kill me.
‘You…’ But I had no words.
The halfman sneezed. Its eyes began to water. I looked away in disgust. I thought, it isn’t even well made, look at this mess. It slobbered and snotted and didn’t even have the pride to hide its face.
‘Ugly,’ I told it. I was furious with it for its horrible lies. ‘Ugly!’ I said again.
The thing shook its head angrily. ‘What do you think?’ it growled. ‘I’m going to die. My family have just been murdered.’ More water came from its eyes and nose and I suddenly thought, he’s crying.
But…
It had to be another trick. These things have no feelings. Were the technicians at Ragnor so clever they had made these creatures able to cry at will, just to gain extra seconds before the kill?
‘Your family? The little ones down there…?’ I asked.
‘Of course. What did you think – dwarfs? This isn’t fairyland.’ It began to sob. It put its head down on its arm and cried. I thought, it cries. I don’t know what I thought. And I put out one hand – I didn’t mean to, it just came out on its own – I put out one hand and touched it.
He wiped his eyes and watched me. I scratched the stiff hair on the back of his neck, and patted him roughly, like the great dog he was.
Behind us came the noise of the troops.
He pulled away.
‘Just because you can cry. You’re still the enemy,’ I hissed.
‘Still the enemy. Always the enemy,’ the creature agreed. He l
eaned forward and began to touch me, to pat my legs and sides. I thought he was going to maul me and I tried to push him away, but he just reached out and grabbed me with the other hand and held me so I had to stand there. He was so strong – if a horse had a hand he could grip you that hard. But he was only seeing if I was armed.
‘You chucked the pistol away,’ I scolded him.
‘Here comes lover-boy,’ he muttered, as a convoy of Land Rovers raced towards us. ‘Suppose it’s just a case of how many I take with me, mm?’ He raised his eyebrows at me, and sniffed the air.
‘You could take me hostage,’ I said. Don’t misunderstand me, I wasn’t offering to help him – not me! It was the only move I had. So what if he could cry for his children! He was still the enemy, like he said. But if he held me hostage he’d have to keep me alive.
‘Ah, the new Queen! Well, what a prize! But I’m not so sure that having you with me would stop them shooting.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Take my advice, Queeny. Conor’s not the man to spread his power by treaties. He wants it all – yesterday, tomorrow, today, all his, now. If you got killed on a halfman hunt he wouldn’t mourn.’
‘You’re lying,’ I hissed. I was furious with him again. Now he was trying to spoil things between me and Conor!
‘He’d invite your clan for the funeral. Oh, yes, yes, yes. He’d love to have the Volsons come for a visit. He has nothing for any of you but death.’
‘We have a treaty,’ I said.
The halfman looked at me and licked his ugly lips.
‘So did I,’ he said, and he laughed, huf huf huf, under his breath.
I just laughed in his face. ‘Do you think my father is on your level, you half-thing?’
The halfman reached out so fast I hardly saw it, and snatched my woolly hat off my head and perched it on his own. He looked ludicrous – his heavy hyena head with the hat pulled down over his eyes.
‘Disguise?’ he suggested, and laughed, huf huf huf. He smiled crookedly at me, and without thinking, my eyes suddenly filled with tears because… because… Because he was more human than animal after all. Because he could both laugh and cry. Do you see? He had the best weapons already. He could laugh and cry.
Bloodtide Page 9
