by C. G. Hatton
He didn’t protest, sinking down onto the floor and resting the rifle next to him. He shrugged out of the jacket, letting her pull open his shirt, exposing his left shoulder. It was still throbbing but the feeling had pretty much come back. It was bad but he’d had worse. He leaned against the wall and let her clean the wound, fast and efficient, very aware that Spacey was staring at him, eyes dropping to his chest, to the scars, the intricate design that was burned into the muscle just below his collarbone.
He closed his eyes, hearing Hilyer say softly to Spacey that she should go with him to check on the Hailstones he’d left on watch.
Sienna pressed on a field dressing and pulled his shirt closed. “We can’t stay here,” she whispered as she buttoned it up. “And if we go back out there, we’re going to run headlong into the bastards. We need to lie low and get a drop ship here.”
LC glanced up. There was something about the way she said it. “But…?”
“We don’t have any comms,” she admitted. “Can you…?”
“They know I’m here,” he muttered. “But if I…” He wanted desperately to check in with Hal Duncan, if he was even still alive, but he didn’t dare. “I can’t risk making Hal a target too.”
“So we don’t have any choice,” Sienna said. “I’ll make a run for it. You two keep the kids here. Keep them quiet. I’ll be right back.” She squeezed his knee. “With a drop ship. Keep your ass out of trouble, you hear?”
Sienna took off, checking in with Hil at the top of the stairs. LC sat back and cradled his flask in his lap, sipping at it, watching the flames of the candles dance whenever anyone moved.
He closed his eyes, gradually becoming aware of a small figure creeping up next to him. He blinked open one eye. The kid was staring at him, wide-eyed.
“Are you really a thief?” she said.
“Not anymore.” He didn’t know what he was anymore.
“Can you really hear the aliens?”
He nodded and let his eyes close again.
She must have been about six. Not much older than Spacey the last time he’d seen her.
He lifted the flask and drank more than he intended.
“Do they really want to eat us?”
Christ. He almost choked. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? An image of a spit-roasted chunk of human flesh popped into his head.
His heart started racing.
It was the kid with attitude who rescued him with a quiet, “Belinda, go scoot. Leave him alone.”
LC sat up, glad the kid had made it. In the confusion, some of them hadn’t. There were at least three missing.
“No, it’s fine,” he muttered.
They wanted to know and it was only fair to tell them.
The older kid sat down, hugging Belinda close to him, a scrape on his forehead and a blossoming black eye the only outward signs of everything they’d just been through.
The kid sat for a moment or two then said, “Hil says you’re the best thief the Thieves’ Guild has ever had.”
Holy shit, he’d never heard Hilyer say that before.
“We both were,” he said.
“What did you steal?”
“What’s your name?”
The kid rubbed at the bruise under his eye. “Toby. What did you steal?”
LC took another drink from the flask, summoning whatever patience he could. “Toby, these are air raid shelters. There’ll be supplies. Go find something for the kids to eat, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
He lost track of time, sitting there, drinking moonshine, and ending up talking about Kheris of all things, as the rest of the kids crept up close and hung on his every word. Spacey appeared at some point and sat on the steps, listening from a distance, staring at him, and Hil came to check on them a couple of times, not intruding, just giving him a nod from the top of the stairs.
“And that’s how I ended up in the most secretive guild in the galaxy,” LC said eventually, throat raw.
He felt numb. None of it felt real, as if he’d been telling someone else’s story.
The candles were pretty much burned out. He tipped up the flask, surprised it was empty, and gave it a shake. The effects of the krakn had pretty much burned out too.
He looked round at them. There was still a faint echo of sporadic gunfire in the distance, the low rumble of troop carriers. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep going. He couldn’t believe they were sitting so quietly. He couldn’t recall Spacey ever being so still.
“What happened then?” one of the little ones said.
LC shrugged. “Mendhel took us to the Alsatia and we ran riot. The guild was never set up to take kids. I didn’t know it at the time but Mendhel put himself on the line doing what he did that day. There was no way back for any of us.”
It was weird talking about Mendhel so openly. He felt distant from it, as if, even if it wasn’t someone else’s story, it had been a different him. It had all been a lifetime ago. Eleven, twelve lifetimes ago.
There was a roar of engines overhead, drop ships descending. He couldn’t help but reach out, briefly, sensing humans, and not just humans, guild.
He glanced at Spacey. She was watching him, wary, aware there was incoming and tensing, thinking they wouldn’t survive another fight. He gave her a nod, reassuring, half a smile.
He made a move to stand, reaching for the rifle, but one of the kids touched his arm and whispered, “Tell us about the time you broke into Yarrimer.”
Another one piped up, “And Polaris.”
He couldn’t help the grin. Hil must have told them. “That was all back when we were invincible,” he said, “when we were chasing for the top and the standings were all that mattered. But those stories’ll have to wait for another day.”
“What do we do now?” one of them asked.
He checked the mechanism on his rifle. He didn’t have much ammunition left.
“Now?” he said. “Now we survive.”
He stood and started herding the kids ahead of him, shooing them out, and taking his helmet from Spacey as she held it out to him.
She was thinking that out of everyone she’d ever known, he was the last person she’d ever imagined would become a soldier, and now he was. He wasn’t so sure. He still sucked at taking orders, from anyone. But hell, it was good to see her again. She was a good kid. She reminded him of Maisie and suddenly it all didn’t feel so distant.
“Cheers, Spacey,” he said vaguely, tired, struggling not to fall back and get caught up in regrets. It felt like he was standing on the edge of a black hole and was in serious danger of being sucked into it and lost forever.
She looked at him, chin up as if she didn’t want to say it, but she said, “Will we?”
He blinked. “Will we what?”
“Survive.”
He shrugged. “We have so far…”
Shouts were echoing down from above, Sienna and Hilyer. They needed to move.
Spacey smiled. “Do you promise?”
He gave her shoulder a squeeze and nudged her up the stairs. “C’mon, we need to get out of here.”
Sienna met him at the top. She looked like shit, but she was smiling, relieved to see they were still there. And still alive.
“It’s all quiet,” she said, thinking too quiet but she didn’t say it. She took the helmet he was holding and stuck it on his head, thumping it down and fastening the chin strap like he was a child. “We’ve got ships on a roof two buildings over. You up for a climb?”
LC nodded.
“These are good kids,” she said. “It was the right call.”
“I know we can’t rescue everyone…”
“We rescue the people who are important to us.”
He looked in her eyes, heart thumping and that lump back in his throat. “What about you? Who do you need to go rescue?”
Sienna clapped him on the back and nudged him forward, saying close into his ear as he passed, “You. You’re it, LC. Have been sin
ce that day you turned up in the mess in such a mess.” She laughed. “When you were thirteen.” She shook her head. “God, I miss Jensonn. He would’ve loved this shit.” She shoved him again to get him moving. “Come on, they’re not gonna wait for us if we take all damn night.”
Making it to the roof was easier said than done. He was using the rifle to lean on, not even aware the headache was getting worse until he emerged out onto the first rooftop. When the intensity of the hive hit, it was hard, more intense than he’d ever experienced, like he was the focus of a beam of sunlight beneath a lens. He stopped, staggered back and almost fell to his knees, doubled over.
Sienna was holding his arm, otherwise he would’ve gone down. “What’s wrong?” She turned and he heard her yelling to Hilyer, shouting for help, swearing, her words drowned out as the noise of the drop ship engines was suddenly joined by a thunderous roar from all directions.
LC felt it like a fist pushing against his chest.
They were waiting for him.
A trap.
That sickening ominous dread hit his heart and squeezed, as if they had hold of it physically, pushing talons into his brain.
He sank to one knee, Sienna struggling to hold him up. He tried to say, “Go. Just go,” and he glanced around to see the lights of incoming Bhenykhn gunships and troop carriers in all directions. And the unmistakable silhouette of a tall thin figure, standing on a far roof, staff in hand.
Chapter 10
“You want to hunt the shaman?” The Man’s voice was ominous. A deep timbre.
Sebastian turned.
“Is that what this is about?” the Man said, frowning. “You summon me here, threaten me, attempt to bribe me, contrive to lure me into giving you something that is far more dangerous than you realise on the offer of information about Nikolai, who for all I know could be dead already… why are you doing this?”
Sebastian took a moment. Looked hard at this alien entity that had masqueraded as human, as the leader of the guild, for so long, the being that had taken him as a child and locked him away inside his own body and given that body to a construct personality. Nikolai was innocent in all this, he knew that. Not that he’d ever admit it. Especially not to Nikolai, his jailor.
He let a smile crease his face. “No,” he said. “You don’t want to know what it is I intend to do.”
•
Strafing fire ricocheted off the rooftop.
“No way,” Sienna breathed into his ear, hauling him upright and dragging him across the roof. “Move your ass, Anderton.”
“They know I’m here,” he mumbled, stumbling to his knees, the hive mind still pinning him there. He froze, and used everything he had, every trick NG had shown him. He shut them out, drew a deep breath and stood.
Sienna was swearing at him, still yelling for help.
He felt Spacey appear next to him, the kid Toby next to her.
“I’m good,” he gasped, chest heaving, nerves flaring, shrugging them off and stumbling into a run, trying to herd the kids ahead of him.
He felt more than saw pods landing on the rooftops all around them, hissing open on impact.
One of the drop ships on the far rooftop exploded, the hit of void punching hard, shrapnel and flaming debris flying out in bright sparks that lit up the skyline.
Glints of light flashed as Hilyer sent out the Hailstones, the tiny spheres flying to intercept the aliens emerging from the pods. He was yelling something LC couldn’t make out, holding back some of the smaller kids who were all shouting.
LC raised the rifle and started shooting, out towards the pods. There were too many, too many gunships pouring in, too many damned aliens joining the hunt, rifles up, firing at them.
He felt Toby take a hit beside him, the kid dropping like a stone. Spacey screamed. He stopped and tried to pull him up, Sienna shoving him aside and dragging the kid up herself, pushing LC forward.
He staggered as something hot punched into his side.
There was a bang as some kind of grenade landed, bounced and detonated, head height, in front of them, throwing them backwards.
He hit the ground and rolled. Spacey was trying to help him. He reached out for her, pulling her into him, using his body to shield her as another grenade bounced and exploded. Clouds of thick black smoke spewed out, a hideous choking stench catching at the back of his throat. He couldn’t see Sienna and the other kid. He held onto Spacey’s hand and turned. He still had hold of the rifle somehow, no strength to lift it and no idea where to turn except back to the stairs. Spacey was pulling him in that direction and he went with her.
They were after him. If he backed off, they’d leave the others alone and chase him. He could feel it. They wanted a hunt, wanted the thrill of hunting him down.
He tried to shove Spacey away, shouting, “Go. It’s me they’re after. Get the hell away from me,” but she held on and dragged him down into the stairwell.
She slammed the door behind them and turned to him, face smeared with dirt and tears but that defiance burning in her eyes. “The tunnels. We need to get back into the tunnels. And no, I’m not leaving you. Not again.”
He could hardly see through the pain by the time they made it down into the chill quiet of the tunnels. She didn’t let him stop, gripping his sleeve, as he held the rifle in one hand and clutched the other to his side which was burning worse than any hit he’d ever taken in his entire life.
And that was saying something.
They ended up in a basement. Spacey stopped and handed him an old kerosene lantern.
He had to take a breath and wipe the blood from his hand before he could summon a flame, handing the lit lantern back and holding out the rifle for her to take before he flaked out.
He squeezed her shoulder and said, “Keep watch,” sinking to the floor before he fell in a heap and pulling out a field dressing that he pushed against his side.
He could feel the virus struggling to cope with the wound, feel the blood still pulsing out, sticky against his hand, soaking the dressing through in seconds. He tipped off the helmet, closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall.
He didn’t have any moonshine left, no krakn, not even any go-juice.
He couldn’t see a way out. Even if the others were still alive, there was no way out. The Bhenykhn were waiting. They knew him and they wanted him.
“Tell me about the guild,” Spacey said suddenly, blurting it out, dismay emanating from her at seeing so much blood.
“I just need a minute,” he muttered.
He was vaguely aware that Spacey sat down opposite. He could feel her staring at him.
“I want to know what happened after you first met Hil,” she said, stubborn, just like Maisie, throwing him back in time in an instant.
“No, you don’t,” he said, throat so sore he could hardly speak out loud. “He was an idiot. He hated me. And the first tab we were sent on almost got both of us killed.”
And he started talking, nonsense mostly, a load of stuff he’d buried deep and never thought about again. Talking about Mendhel, and for the first time since Mendhel had been killed, thinking about memories that made him smile. Christ, he missed him.
At one point, he thought he might have cried but then he started talking about their first tab, Redemption, and how much of a shit Hilyer really had been back then, and he didn’t even know if any of it was making sense to a girl from Kheris he hadn’t seen since he was a kid himself.
He ended up mumbling, realising he wasn’t making sense and emerging tenderly from the fog, like his mind and body were reluctant to face reality. His side and abdomen were burning, tendrils of pain winding deep. It was getting worse, not better. The virus had struggled before but nothing like this.
He could still feel a faint hum from the hive. Whatever had happened, the Bhenykhn were still on the planet.
He couldn’t move, butt going numb, and pins and needles in his fingers. He had no idea how long he’d been talking but sometime along the
way, Spacey had come closer. She was sitting next to him on the floor, her hand clutching his, the wall cold against his back.
He felt the faint touch of concerned minds nearby and getting closer, and closed his eyes, muttering softly, “Incoming.”
He could feel her unease, her other hand on the rifle he’d given her, tensing as footsteps echoed towards them.
“They’re ours,” he breathed.
She nodded, squeezing his hand. The kid was way older than he’d been at that age. Just having her there was weird. Worlds colliding…
He was drifting in and out. He had a feeling he’d been rambling on about something.
He half opened one eye as Hilyer came in, a rifle in his hand, a grin, a cocky comment he couldn’t make out.
LC felt himself going, darkness closing in. He needed to know what was going on, but it was too much. The black shutters came down.
He blinked. He was flat out on his back, stretched out. It couldn’t have been long because he could still feel the adrenaline that had been keeping him going for so long.
There were dim orange lights strung overhead, flickering, and for a second he was thirteen again, in the tunnels beneath Kheris, but he sensed Sean O’Brien next to him. Doubted himself for a second but it was definitely her. He’d been hoping she’d be off planet, somewhere safe. He felt her hand warm on his shoulder, rubbing gently, and she brought him back. He let the tension ease, aware of someone else there, Hal Duncan, cursing, pulling open his jacket, peeling away the shirt and pressing something against his side. He could hardly feel it, beyond pain.
“Lie still,” Sean murmured. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“Did you get the kids out?” His throat felt raw.
“We did. They’re safe.”
For now.
“The Bhenykhn are still here.” It wasn’t a question. He could feel them.
“They have the colony,” she said. “They’re starting their victory celebrations.”
Just hearing that sent a chill into his spine. He’d seen those first hand.
