“The chancellor is a monster, Chelsea, and the Custodians are a bunch of corrupt bully boys who lost sight of the mission to protect the people decades ago. Good riddance to them all,” she said.
“What about afterwards? How are you planning on dealing with the Skel army besieging Newhome after the Japanese Rangers have gone if there are few Custodians left and no one to tell them what to do?” I said.
“The Patriot has drawn up a contingency to deal with them,” Carver said.
“Such as?”
“When the Custodians are out of the way, he’ll arm the foragers and send them out to hunt down the Skel.”
I looked at him incredulously. “You can’t be serious. With the exception of Ethan Jones, the foragers wet themselves at the mention of Skel, let alone when they see one. I know. I was a forager for a while. Besides, you think they know how to use a gun?”
“Shall I gag her again?” Jazza said, getting the cloth ball ready. “Told you she wouldn’t play along.”
Bhagya laid a slim, dark-skinned hand on my shoulder. “I was really hoping to get you on board with this, Chelsea. I need you. We need you.”
“I understand your hatred of the chancellor–”
“You really don’t. Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Did they dissect your twin brother? Are his organs stuffed in jars in the Geneticists Laboratory? You think I don’t hate him and want to bring about the administration’s downfall? The difference is that I want it done bloodlessly, with all the guilty parties, geneticists included, put on trial and imprisoned for their crimes – not assassinated,” I said, speaking as passionately as I could, imploring her to see beyond her consuming hatred and need for revenge.
“Chelsea, you watched them dissect your brother’s corpse. As I told you before, I watched them cut up the echolocator boys while they were alive! Take your reaction to seeing your brother dissected and multiple that by ten! Then you’ll know how much I hate the chancellor,” Bhagya said.
“Can’t you at least run my objections past the Patriot? Maybe he’ll listen to reason?”
“This is his plan, Chelsea.”
I grunted in frustration. “Who is he anyway, this Patriot?”
“We have no idea,” Jazza replied. “He sends us coded messages in the mail, through junk mail deliveries, and via Mr. Fenton.”
“You sure Mr. Fenton isn’t the Patriot?”
“Fenton? Oh, that’s rich,” Stefan said as all three boys broke into fits of laughter.
“Can’t wait to tell Fenton you said that, he’ll be thrilled!” Carver added.
“Tell me, whose idea was it to put poison in my drink?” I asked the question quickly, afraid they were about to leave.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“What is this, question and answer time?” Jazza spat.
“You may as well tell me, it’s not like I’m going anywhere, is it?”
“Fine. It was the Patriot’s idea. He sent me a memo to buy a bottle identical to yours and give it to Mr. Fenton. He put potassium cyanide in it, and I made the swap during chemistry class,” Jazza said.
Anger surged through my veins at this news. If by some miracle I was able to escape from this prison, I was going to double my efforts to find this Patriot. I wanted him to pay for trying to kill me. “Pretty much what I figured,” I said. “Hey, who told you who I am and that I have enhanced hearing?”
“Got a note from the Patriot.”
“Enough of this pointless chatter,” Bhagya said, butting in. She took a step closer to me. “One last chance to join us, Chelsea.”
“Never.”
Bhagya shook her head sadly, stood, and left the room without a backwards glance.
Jazza knelt down, forced my mouth open, and shoved the cloth ball down my throat, sending me into a fresh round of retching.
“Come on, let’s go,” he said, heading for the door.
Stefan didn’t move, though. He just stood there, running his eyes up and down the length of my body. Then he met my gaze, and I shuddered uncontrollably. There was no mistaking what he was thinking.
“We’re going, Stefan,” Jazza said when he reached the doorway.
“You go on ahead.”
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking it.”
“Jazza–”
“Move, or I’ll bust your chops.”
Stefan let fly a string of profanities and stormed from the room. Jazza shot an irritated look in my direction, and followed him, turning off the light as he left.
I leaned my head back against the wall. Desperately needing to break free so I could warn Ryan and Mr. Cho, I tried to free my hands from their bonds. But it was no use. They didn’t just bind my wrists, but my forearms too. I was well and truly trapped.
Trying to keep track of time in the pitch-blackness of the abandoned supply room was pointless. My captors visited me twice, giving me water, something to eat, and a ‘trip’ to the toilet. The latter was a bucket on the floor that I used after Bhagya sent the boys out of the room. All entreaties to get them to forsake their plans or at least let me go came to naught.
In the darkness, time seemed to move at a snail’s pace. I had no idea if Sunday had come and gone already. I knew it couldn’t have, though, because my captors would have reported back to me afterwards. That thought triggered an insidious fear – what if Bhagya and the boys were killed during Sunday night’s uprising and no one else knew I was incarcerated here? If that happened, I would die of thirst within a few days. A feeling of dread entered the pit of my stomach, and as time ticked inexorably by, it increased in severity until my pulse began to race and a hissing sound filled my ears. I began to panic – I couldn’t die like this!
* * *
The sound of running footsteps roused me from a state of half-sleep. That it was only one person coming sent me into a state of full-blown panic. What if it was Stefan, sneaking down here alone to have his way with me?
The light snapped on and my worst fears were realised. A red-faced, breathless Stefan entered the storeroom, eyeing me hungrily. Sucking down a deep breath, he swaggered towards me, a wicked ten-inch serrated knife in his hand.
He knelt beside me and pressed the knife against the side of my neck with one hand while pulling out the gag with the other. “Make a noise and I’ll slit your throat,” he growled.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice coming out as a cracked whisper.
“Everything’s gone to pot, so I figured I’d have my fun with you before I lost the chance.”
“What are you talking about?” I said, desperately trying to get his attention away from what he was planning to do.
He started fiddling with my belt buckle with his free hand, trying to undo it. I tried to shrink back from his lecherous touch, but with my back against the wall and hands and feet tied, there was nowhere to go.
“It’s not just Japanese Rangers attacking the town, it’s Skel too!” he shouted in my face.
“What?”
“They used a captured Bushmaster to smash down North End’s external gates. I knew something was wrong when Rangers and Skel came charging out of the vehicle together and countless more Skel rushed in through the gates. The Custodians are trying to contain them, but they’re getting slaughtered.”
My mind did a somersault at this revelation – the Rangers and Skel were working together?
“You get what I’m saying?” he said, trembling with rage. “The town’s doomed - we’re all done for!”
“Then what are you doing here, get back out there and help! Where are your stupid friends – what are they doing?” I said, matching his anger with my own.
“Jazza’s dead!” He spat the words out so vehemently that spittle rained on my face.
“How?”
“We knew something was wrong because Skel came in with the Rangers, but Jazza and Carver still insisted we go meet them.”
“And?”
“The Rangers t
ried to make Jazza take them to the lab, but he refused, insisting they attack the chancellery and kill the chancellor and councillors like they promised. So they shot him, just like that.”
“And Carver?”
“The moron’s taking them to the lab.”
I looked at Stefan and the range of emotions flying across his face. “You ran, didn’t you. When they shot Jazza you hightailed it out of there like the coward you are.”
Stefan suddenly slapped me across the face with such force that my ear was left ringing. “I ain’t no coward! Getting out of there was the smart thing to do!”
“Where’s Bhagya?” I asked.
“Dumb sheila froze up. She’s standing behind a tree near the town gates with her mouth open, watching the Skel charging into the town. Now shut it – enough talking.” His knife appeared back at my throat. He popped open his jeans button and started to pull down the fly. I wanted to struggle, to shout at him, to beg him to stop, but with a knife at my throat, there was nothing I could do.
Actually, there was one thing I could do. As Stefan started to tug at my jeans, I sucked in a deep breath and screamed as loudly as I could near the ceiling of human hearing. Stefan stumbled back, pressing his hands against his ears.
At the same moment, I became aware of sudden movement as someone rose up behind him and bashed him over the back of the head with a wooden plank. The knife slipped from his hand and his head hit the floor with a loud crack as he went down.
Thinking Ryan had come, I was most surprised when I saw it wasn’t him at all.
“Mehmet! Mate, am I glad to see you!” I exclaimed.
My rescuer scooped the knife off the floor and began sawing through the ropes around my ankles. “It’s mutual,” he said. “We’ve been looking for you for three days – Ryan, Dylan, Isaac and me, and apparently Counsellor Cho and a bunch of the Specialists as well.”
“How did you find me?”
The ropes cut from my ankles; he got stuck into the one around my forearms and wrists. “Just dumb luck. I couldn’t sleep and was getting some fresh air out on my balcony. Suddenly there were all these explosions and gunfire, so I went outside to try to find out what was going on. That’s when I spotted Stefan running through the streets like a lunatic. I followed him, and he came straight here.”
The ropes gone, I rubbed the life back into my arms and ankles for a couple of minutes. Once the circulation was restored, Mehmet helped me to my feet.
“Are you okay? Did they hurt you or…” he asked.
“I’m fine. You got here just in time.” I quickly righted my clothes and gave his hand a squeeze.
“What do we do now? I overheard Stefan talking, you know, about the Rangers and Skel attacking the town,” Mehmet said.
“First I want to find Bhagya, and then I need to get to the Geneticists Laboratory. If I can get a bunch of the Specialist girls to join me, I’ll give the Skel a taste of their own medicine,” I said, hurrying for the door.
“You know how to beat Skel?” he asked, running alongside me.
“They have an Achilles heel – they don’t cover their necks or the backs of their knees with armour.”
“So you have fought them before – I knew it,” Mehmet said, grinning broadly.
“Just the once.”
“But you won, right?”
“That particular Skel will never walk again, let’s put it that way,” I replied. “Now come on, we’d better hurry.”
He led me through a room crowded with massive generators – these were making the thrumming sound I heard when I was in the storeroom. I was just about to ask where we were when he led me to a staircase. Taking the stairs two at a time, I was shocked to find myself in the hospital, impressed by Jazza’s ingenuity. By hiding me in an unused room beneath the hospital, they didn’t have to drag my unconscious body outside and risk detection.
“What time is it?” I asked as we ran past reception, which was unattended since it was the wee hours of the night.
“Before five,” he replied.
The hospital main doors could be unlocked from the inside, so we were through them in a heartbeat and running down the stairs. Then with me leading the way, we ran as fast as we could through empty streets shrouded in darkness. I was impressed by Mehmet’s level of fitness – he was like a dynamo that wouldn’t run down.
I heard the sound of gunfire coming from the direction of North End long before we reached the dividing wall. When we reached the copse of trees that hid the secret entrance into North End, I pulled the magnetic key from my pocket as we darted through the trees. I waved the key over the lock and the thick concrete door swung slowly inwards on well-oiled hinges.
I was through the door in an instant, singing out with my voice pitched in the ultrasonic range as I went, illuminating the surrounding area as though it was daylight, although in an ethereal kind of way. I knew this would set off any ultrasonic detectors in the area, but as I was a Specialist and not an illegal mutant, and considering the battle raging between the Custodians and Skel, I figured no one would care.
Coming out of the trees brought me behind an immaculate office block unlike any found in Newhome Proper. Hearing Mehmet run up behind me, I took off again, heading down the narrow alley between the buildings. Stepping past a pile of discarded wooden crates and cardboard boxes, we reached the end of the alley, which opened into a major thoroughfare.
The horrific scene that met us shook me to the core, and I had to fight the impulse to flee back the way we came.
A convoy of Custodian G-Wagon’s had driven up the road from the direction of the gates into Newhome Proper, but it had been ambushed by Skel, who had expected the inexperienced town guardians to try something exactly like this.
The two lead vehicles and the one at the rear were burning furiously, the result of Molotov Cocktail hits. Black, acrid smoke wafted into the early morning air. The Custodian passengers, their clothes on fire, leaped screaming from the vehicles. Some tried beating out the flames with their bare hands while others rolled on the ground. All without success. Petrol fires were not easy to extinguish.
Custodians from the centremost G-Wagons were climbing more carefully from their vehicles, Austeyr assault-rifles at the ready. Dressed in camo fatigues and wearing bulletproof vests and helmets, they were illuminated by flickering light cast from burning vehicles and pale light from street lamps. A glance at the men’s faces told a different story, however. Some watched the surrounding darkness with eyes wide with fear, while others stared aghast at their burning comrades, frozen into immobility.
Then as though in a dream, I watched as two dozen massive, hulking Skel warriors seemed to rise out of the very road itself. They had been hiding beneath dirt-stained tarpaulins, which they had placed at the edge of the road. Standing six-foot tall, they were frightening apparitions. Looking as though they had escaped from the very depths of hell itself, they clutched their black crossbows and rusting metal clubs, decked out head to foot in bone armour. I gasped in horror – I had totally forgotten how dreadful they were.
Unable to move or even cry out, Mehmet and I watched as the brutish Skel fired a volley of crossbow bolts at the hapless Custodians before charging directly into their midst, swinging horrific clubs in their experienced hands. Newhome’s guardians screamed and went down with shattered bones and fatal wounds. The unexpected nature of the ambush was so surprising that very few of the Custodians even managed to get a shot off.
“What do we do?” Mehmet asked, his voice shaking.
“There’s nothing we can do here. We have to find Bhagya.”
“I heard Stefan say she was near the gates.” He pointed back the other way, toward North End’s external gates.
“Come on, then. We fetch her and then hightail it over to the lab,” I said, turning to go.
Realising he wasn’t moving, I looked back and saw Mehmet still standing in the mouth of the alley, eyes wide.
“You with me?” I asked.
He sucked in a deep breath, nodded, and hurried over to me.
“Don’t suppose you’ve got a weapon?” I asked as we ran.
“Just this.” He held up the ten inch serrated knife he liberated from Stefan.
“It’ll have to do.” I reached out to take it from him.
“I think you’d better let me keep it,” he said.
“Used one in combat before?”
“Ah, no, but–”
“Then hand it over.”
He reluctantly passed me the knife.
Chapter Thirty
We ran off down the street, staying close to the buildings in an attempt to get as far away from the streetlights as possible. I kept my senses about me as we went, painting a mental picture of what transpired around us. The terrible slaughter behind us wasn’t the only action going down. I could hear sporadic fire from Custodian assault-rifles from several locations farther down the road, as well as in the direction of the Genetics Laboratory. I also heard the occasional retort of single shot rifles, which sent cold chills down my back, because that meant some of the Skel had guns.
We weren’t far from the gates when the glass door of the apartment block we were using as shelter was kicked open. Two brutal Skel strode through, dragging two women behind them. One was my age or younger, still in her nightdress and slapping the Skel’s armour as she struggled to break free. The other was a little older but stunningly beautiful, cursing her captor as well as commanding he let her go.
The lead Skel saw us first. Pushing the girl away, he gripped his nail studded steel club with two hands and took a swing at my head. I only just managed to duck in time, feeling the rush of air over the back of my neck. Spinning away from him, I jumped towards Mehmet; put both hands on his chest, and gave him an almighty shove. The wicked club missed his head by inches.
“Stay back!” I shouted in his face.
Echolocating so I could see clearly in the poor light, I turned back to my foe, flinching at the sight of his bloodshot eyes, and shuddering at the revolting body odour emanating from his person. A quick examination of his bone armour revealed that he shared the same weakness as the rest of his ilk - his neck was unarmoured.
Forager - the Complete Six Book Series (A Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Series) Page 119
