Fire City

by Bali Rai

  The only incident after the village had involved a pack of wolves tearing at the flesh of a deer. Jonah had skirted the pack easily in the vehicle, avoiding any conflict. However, the going was slow, the road cratered with holes and strewn with abandoned vehicles.

  Mace remembered the route from his childhood, when his parents had taken the family to an adventure park. He wondered what had become of the water slides, rides and stalls since the War, smiling as he recalled hurtling round the tracks of a roller coaster, clinging to his father in excitement. The world had changed so completely that such memories seemed like fantasies now. Mace sometimes wondered if they had ever occurred at all. He would have given anything to be able to take his own children to such places.

  ‘There’s a turn-off up ahead, leading to the compound,’ Jonah told him as the wind whipped past their ears. ‘The track is about one and a half kilometres long, but we can’t just drive up to the gates. We’ll have to leave the jeep in the surrounding woods and approach on foot.’

  ‘You seem to know it well,’ Mace commented.

  Jonah nodded. ‘I checked it out on my way down to Fire City. It’s surrounded by forest on three sides, and there is no demon protection over it. The only danger is the army – there are at least thirty soldiers guarding the place.’

  Mace shook his head. ‘Well, that’ll be simple, then,’ he remarked.

  ‘We’ll get close and then trek through the trees.’

  ‘What about the wolves?’ Mace asked, sounding tired. Jonah looked at the giant and asked if he needed to rest. Mace nodded. ‘I’m out on my feet, so to speak,’ he admitted.

  ‘OK,’ Jonah told him, pulling off the road onto the track. ‘Let’s get closer and then we’ll rest for a while. It might be better to wait until tonight anyway. Darkness will provide the best cover.’

  ‘I only need a nap,’ Mace protested. ‘We can’t wait too long, if what you’ve told me is true. We have to get to Tyrell.’

  Jonah had explained the role of round-up zones to him earlier, making the older man anxious. They had to rescue Tyrell before he was killed or carted off to become prey. Mace knew that he really needed longer to recuperate, but it was a luxury they couldn’t afford.

  ‘We’ll see,’ replied Jonah as they bumped down the gravel track, surrounded by woodland.

  About seven hundred metres along, Jonah drove between two ash trees that dwarfed a thick knot of smaller common alders. The ground was moist and rich here, and the tyres threw up clumps of earth as they tracked through the undergrowth. Thirty metres in, Jonah stopped and turned off the engine. He jumped down and asked Mace for one of his machetes.

  ‘We need to cut some branches,’ he explained without being prompted. ‘To camouflage the jeep.’

  Mace drew both weapons and handed one over. Then he copied Jonah, cutting at the point where the thinner branches sprouted from the thicker ones. Thanks to the canopy of taller trees, smaller shrubs such as dogwood and elderberry received only partial sunlight, which meant that they stayed relatively small. Their branches were thick with leaves and easy to cut, and very quickly Mace and Jonah had concealed the vehicle.

  ‘We’ll crawl in too,’ said Jonah. ‘Get some rest.’

  Mace went first, his large frame disturbing their work. Jonah rearranged the cover behind them, until they were seated.

  ‘Give me an hour,’ Mace ordered. ‘And if anything happens before then, wake me up.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Jonah replied.

  ‘And just one thing more,’ Mace added. Jonah looked at him and raised his eyebrows. ‘If you’re half-demon,’ began Mace, ‘why do you hate the others so much?’

  Jonah looked away. ‘Because I prefer the human part,’ he parried. ‘And so did my mother.’

  ‘Your mother?’ Mace queried, failing to understand.

  ‘My mother was a pure breed,’ explained Jonah. ‘She was a true ancient, but from a different branch to Valefor and the others. She left their dimension to live with my father. The demon lords didn’t approve.’

  Mace screwed up his face, wondering whether the young man was messing with him. It sounded preposterous. ‘What happened to her?’ he asked.

  Jonah shook his head slowly. ‘They killed her,’ he admitted. ‘The Lords destroyed my whole family.’

  ‘So you’re no different to us, then?’ Mace replied.

  ‘No,’ agreed Jonah. ‘I’m as Unwanted as the rest of you. More so, maybe.’

  Mace wondered whether to be honest with the boy. His heritage could cause some serious problems, handled incorrectly. Like Mace, most of the people he knew hated demons with a passion that bordered on rage. ‘You know,’ he said honestly, ‘that many humans won’t accept you.’

  ‘I understand,’ replied Jonah. ‘Which is why I don’t tell them what I am.’

  ‘But you’ve told me.’

  Jonah looked into Mace’s eyes, and for the first time the giant saw fear in the boy. Fear and something akin to respect too. ‘I felt I could trust you,’ Jonah pleaded as much as stated. ‘You have seen that I’m no threat to you. In fact, my skills are useful.’

  ‘Very true,’ admitted Mace. ‘But you could easily turn against us.’

  ‘Why would I do that?’ asked Jonah. ‘Why would I risk my own being to help you, only to betray you later?’

  Mace shrugged. ‘You’ve a point there,’ he said. ‘Now shut up and let me sleep.’

  Two hours later, they were hiding by the razor and barbed-wire fence that surrounded the complex, obscured by a large thicket of nettles and bramble. Close by, foxes had burrowed a hole underneath the perimeter. Thirty metres ahead of them stood a line of wooden huts. Each of the five cabins was eight metres wide and thirty long, with a door at either end. According to Jonah they housed the sleeping quarters, mess halls and sanitation blocks for the soldiers.

  ‘The foxes scavenge for food,’ Jonah told Mace. ‘It’s the way I got in last time.’

  ‘Why did you get so close?’ asked Mace.

  ‘I wanted to observe the camp,’ Jonah replied. ‘I needed food and weapons.’

  Mace saw that his explanation made sense and nodded.

  ‘They guard the perimeter,’ Jonah continued. ‘Five patrols, with two men in each. We’ll wait until the next time they pass and then go in. The prisoner huts are over near the front but there’s cover all the way. If Tyrell is still here, we’ll find him.’

  Mace indicated a guard tower, fifty metres to their left. ‘What about that?’

  ‘There’s no one up there,’ Jonah told him.

  Mace smiled. ‘Could be a midget?’ he joked.

  Jonah’s expression remained the same as he pointed to their left. ‘Patrol coming,’ he warned. ‘Stay hidden.’

  ‘How can you know that?’ asked Mace.

  ‘Humans smell,’ Jonah told him.

  Mace was about to reply when he spotted the guards. Two soldiers, young-looking and carrying subautomatic guns, strolled past casually. One of them was telling the other about a woman and Mace grinned at the boastful nature of the story.

  Jonah waited until they were gone before beckoning Mace. He pointed to the foxhole. ‘Quick,’ he whispered.

  Mace followed Jonah’s lead as they scrambled to the hole. The entrance was tight but they managed to get through, and a few moments later they emerged inside the fence.

  ‘The first hut,’ said Jonah.

  Mace nodded and they set off at a sprint. Once in place, next to the rear exit, Mace took a breather, watching out for any movement. Jonah crept up to the door and opened it a little.

  ‘Empty,’ he told Mace. ‘Come on.’

  Inside, Mace counted twenty beds, ten against each wall. Between them were metal cupboards, one chair per cot and shared side tables with lamps. At the far end was the second door, and beyond that the rest of the compound. Jonah led Mace to the next exit and stopped at a map pinned to the wooden wall.

  ‘Plan of the complex,’ he said, pointing out their position and
then moving his finger to the west. ‘And this is where they house the prisoners.’

  ‘There’s a lot of buildings between us and Tyrell,’ Mace replied. ‘And once we get him, we have to get back to the foxhole.’

  Jonah shook his head. ‘We won’t be going back that way,’ he revealed.

  ‘So how are we going to get out?’ asked a confused Mace.

  ‘We’re going to steal a truck,’ Jonah told him. ‘We’ll need one to transport the weapons back to Fire City anyway. Make up some time on the way back.’

  ‘But stealing a truck might alert the army.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Jonah. ‘It will.’

  Mace gave his companion a look. ‘And that’s a good thing because . . .?’

  ‘Because,’ explained Jonah, ‘we’re going to paralyse this compound before we leave. They won’t be able to come after us. At least, not these soldiers.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Mace. ‘The easy option . . .’

  35

  AS JONAH AND Mace prepared to rescue him, Tyrell was being blasted with a taser stun gun, bound and gagged. His head lolled to one side and drool ran down his chin.

  Dr Rogers motioned Boyd forward, telling him to be careful. ‘He is top priority,’ the doctor advised. ‘Senator Wise wants him to arrive in one piece. And Senator Wise likes to have his own way, as I’m sure you know.’

  ‘I can’t guarantee that,’ Boyd replied, staring down at their captive. ‘He’s a big lad. Suppose he wakes up and causes a fuss?’

  ‘Then you taser him again,’ said Rogers.

  Behind them, Kira Hamley showed concern.

  ‘Is there really any need for this?’ she asked, her voice faltering slightly.

  She’d seen Boyd at work as they’d travelled the wastelands, looking for specimens. Research subjects, Senator Wise had explained to her, when he’d given her the job. The government wanted a study of any diseases affecting the Unwanted population, he had added. It was a top priority, so that they could help the wretched souls. As a research student, hoping to learn about disease, Kira had been asked to find people suitable for study – the suffering and the healthy.

  With no idea what the research would entail, she had merely been collecting. However, she’d soon realized that her role was a smokescreen. Whatever Wise and his team wanted from the people she had been tasked to find, it wasn’t about helping them fight illness. Otherwise they’d be collecting only the sick. No, something else was happening, something that she didn’t fully understand and didn’t like.

  ‘Do you want to deliver him?’ Boyd sneered. ‘Should be a piece of cake. I mean he’s only three times your size.’

  ‘There’s no need for sarcasm,’ she snapped back. ‘I understand that your primary mode of response is violence, but some of us exhibit the thought processes that separate us from animals.’

  ‘La-la-la,’ said Boyd. ‘You keep your higher being, love. Me, I’ll just do the grunt work and keep the wolves from the door.’

  ‘Enough,’ said Dr Rogers. ‘Both of you get on with your tasks.’

  Kira looked at the syringe in her left hand; it was filled with enough tranquillizer to knock out a rhino. She stepped towards the teenager, ignoring the way Boyd invaded her personal space.

  ‘This is nembutal,’ she told him. ‘Normally it’s a sleep-inducing medicine but this is a stronger concentration. It’s a barbiturate so its effects won’t last too long, but it will pacify him.’

  Boyd looked at Dr Rogers and sniggered. ‘Thanks for the science lesson, darling,’ he replied. ‘Just inject him, will you?’

  Kira found a vein in the boy’s left arm and injected the drug. Withdrawing the needle gently, she wiped the tiny hole with an alcohol swab.

  Boyd started to laugh. ‘He’s from the wastelands,’ the soldier reminded her. ‘He doesn’t change his clothes, he probably craps in an alley and you’re worried about him getting an infection? Sweetheart, you are one liberal cry-baby.’

  Kira ignored his jibes and turned to her medical colleague. ‘He needs to be monitored,’ she told Rogers.

  ‘Sleep apnoea as a side-effect,’ replied her immediate boss. ‘Yes, I know. I did train for medicine too, Kira.’

  ‘If he stops breathing and no one notices,’ Kira continued, ‘he’ll die. And that will upset the senator.’

  Rogers’ smile was false and unkind. ‘Which is why you’ll be going with them,’ he told her, enjoying the surprise that exploded across her features.

  ‘But I’ve got my orders from Senator Wise,’ said Kira.

  ‘And I’ve had new instructions,’ Dr Rogers replied. ‘Besides, you’ll enjoy the trip. You can watch over your subject and enjoy the company of Boyd and his men at the same time.’

  Boyd smiled. ‘We’ll have so much fun,’ he said.

  Kira swore at him and turned away, her face red.

  ‘Get him out of here,’ Rogers told Boyd. ‘You leave in ten minutes.’

  ‘On my way,’ Boyd answered.

  ‘Can you be packed in that time?’ Rogers asked Kira.

  ‘I suppose,’ she replied. She thanked the stars that she’d remembered to bring her gun, a Ruger semi-automatic pistol. If Boyd stepped out of line, she’d need it. She left the prisoners’ quarters and went to pack.

  Behind her, Boyd and Rogers exchanged amused glances. ‘We should leave her in the wild for a few days,’ said Boyd. ‘That would sort her out.’

  ‘I agree,’ Rogers told him. ‘But Senator Wise admires her.’

  Boyd grinned. ‘By admire, you mean he wants to get his end away?’

  Dr Rogers shrugged. ‘Quite possibly,’ he replied.

  Several beds away, Negus watched as Boyd called for some men. Three more soldiers, one pushing a gurney, entered the cabin, their big boots thudding against the floorboards. Together they shifted Tyrell to the wheeled trolley and rolled him out of the hut.

  Dr Rogers looked around at the other prisoners, and then he left too. The two guards that remained locked the door behind him, waited a few minutes and then returned to their game of poker.

  Negus felt bad about not helping the young man, but what could he have done? The world they inhabited was ugly and forced moral dilemmas upon you. You accepted that and survived, or you fought against it and died. He turned and faced the opposite direction, his eyes meeting those of Jodie. She blinked once, her face ashen, and started to cry. Negus nodded, unsure of what to do. He thought back to his previous escapes, and concentrated instead on his next move. If he could manage it, he would honour Tyrell’s promise and take the girl with him. He owed the young man that much.

  Mace whistled in amazement as he considered the weapons store. They’d broken in a few seconds earlier, after edging their way past several soldiers and into the heart of the complex. Jonah moved with ease, seeming to know every inch, and once at the armoury he’d removed a panel of pre-cut wood, replacing it after they’d gone through. Now, as they stood in the half-light of the armaments room, Jonah outlined his plan in a whisper. The doors were manned and any loud noise would alert the guards. He pointed at the plastic explosives, and the boxes of grenades.

  ‘You’ve been in here before,’ said Mace.

  Jonah nodded. ‘I took some weapons last time, I told you. Cut out that access panel we’ve just used.’

  ‘You’d think they would notice,’ said Mace.

  ‘Why?’ Jonah asked. ‘It’s the last thing they’d expect.’

  ‘So what now, then, o wise one?’

  Jonah pointed at some explosives. ‘We’ll use the Semtex,’ he explained. ‘Wire the sleeping quarters and blow them up.’

  ‘Causing a diversion,’ said Mace. ‘Yeah, that might work. For a teenager, you’re pretty impressive.’

  ‘It will work,’ Jonah insisted, ignoring Mace’s remark about his knowledge. ‘But we need to move things into place first.’

  ‘What things?’

  ‘We need to find a truck, load up some of these weapons and leave it near the front
of the compound.’

  Mace looked puzzled. ‘How are we gonna do that?’

  ‘By joining the army,’ replied Jonah, pulling out his long knife and picking up a live grenade. He walked carefully to the doors and put an ear to them. A few moments later, he opened one of them slightly and rolled the grenade through the gap without pulling its pin.

  ‘What the hell!’ he heard one of the guards exclaim. Jonah stepped aside as the doors flew open and both soldiers stepped in, machine guns trained on Mace.

  ‘Hello, lads,’ said Mace, praying that they wouldn’t shoot him. Fat chance.

  Jonah moved fast, slicing the throats of both guards before they could react. Mace felt dizzy watching him, and wondered whether he was dreaming it all. Would he wake up in the Haven soon, scratching his head? The thud of corpses falling to the floor told him no. He stepped across the bodies, and shut the door. Jonah crouched and placed each soldier on his side, pushing back each head and opening the already wide wounds further. Mace asked what he was doing.

  ‘Diverting the blood flow away from their uniforms. Get changed,’ the younger boy ordered. ‘Quick!’

  Mace looked at the dead men, and sighed. How had he ended up taking orders from someone who could have been his child? ‘They’re both too small,’ he pointed out, trying to reassert a little authority.

  ‘No time for that,’ Jonah hurriedly replied. ‘Make do. We need to get outside before the guards are missed.’

  ‘Are you sure this is a plan?’ Mace asked as he stripped the bigger guard. ‘Only you seem to be improvising. Good plans tend to be controlled and thought out in advance. Just saying . . .’

  Jonah nodded. ‘A good soldier can adapt to ever-changing situations,’ he said, sounding like a recruitment officer. The sort of officer Mace had once trained under. It was hard to fault Jonah’s logic.

  ‘OK then, soldier,’ said the giant as he squeezed himself into a pair of camouflage combats, ‘let’s adapt.’

  36

  STONE KEPT A second room in the Mayor’s mansion. It was nothing special, save for the en-suite bathroom and the giant, luxury bed. In fact, Stone disliked the comforts. He’d been a soldier for over thirty years, fighting battles in several parts of the world and then serving his country during the War. Luxuries made people weak, according to Stone, and caused them to want too much. That was why he preferred life outside the citadels, in amongst the misery and destruction of the Unwanted. It felt real, and as close to war as he could get. Stone missed fighting like some people missed their dead parents. Being a soldier was his only need in life – nothing else mattered.