by Bali Rai
‘Who does it supply?’ asked Mace.
‘Smaller units dotted about the wastelands,’ Jonah told him.
‘Be a good place to blow up, then,’ said Mace.
‘It’ll certainly bother them,’ replied Jonah. ‘See that path? It leads to the front gates. Park up over there.’ He pointed out the gravel track, and then the prisoners’ hut to the left. ‘That’s where they’ll have Tyrell,’ he added unnecessarily.
Mace followed his instructions, coming to a halt within sight of the main entrance. Two guard stations stood on either side of the gates, one of them manned. Both soldiers drew their weapons and approached.
‘Think you should handle this,’ said Mace. ‘My trousers are too short.’
Jonah jumped out of the cab and smiled at the guards. Mace listened through the open window.
‘Never seen you before,’ one of the guards said to Jonah. Both soldiers looked tense.
‘I’m new,’ Jonah replied. ‘Came in with the prisoners.’
‘With Boyd?’
‘Yeah,’ lied Jonah. ‘It’s my first time out of the citadels. Got any tips?’
The guards seemed to relax at that and lowered their guns. One of them, about five feet four with a shaved head, shrugged.
‘Stay away from the cannibals and don’t drink the water,’ he offered, showing Jonah his left hand, which was missing the two smallest fingers. ‘Got them tore off,’ the soldier told him. ‘Saw a cat, thought it was cute. My mother has three of them, lovely little things.’
‘Private Dick-for-a-brain here tried to pick it up,’ said the other one, who was much taller and wore a beige bandana round his long brown hair. All three of them laughed.
‘And don’t forget about the girls either,’ said the first. ‘No one cares about them out here. If you see one you like, just take her. Boyd encourages it.’
Jonah smiled again. ‘Sounds like fun,’ he told them. ‘We’re transporting later, down towards the southeast. Like I said, we’ve only just arrived. How many units we got out there?’
The one in the bandana shrugged. ‘Five maybe? Never more than that.’
‘Thanks,’ replied Jonah. ‘I wouldn’t want to run out of supplies.’
‘What did you say your name was again?’ asked the first.
‘I didn’t,’ said Jonah. ‘I’m Williams . . .’
‘Barton,’ the short one revealed, holding out his hand. ‘This lump with me is Savage.’
They exchanged a few more pleasantries, killing five minutes before Jonah rejoined Mace.
‘Nice and friendly,’ said Mace. ‘Unless you’re a girl.’
Jonah ignored him and directed his attention to the prisoners’ hut. Heat signatures told him how many soldiers protected it. ‘Two guards at the door,’ he said. ‘Two more inside and maybe eight or ten prisoners. Can you handle it?’
Mace grinned. ‘Diplomacy or the gun?’ he asked.
‘The gun,’ Jonah told him. ‘It’ll be faster . . .’
Suddenly the camp’s sirens sounded an alarm. A deep voice crackled from loudspeakers attached to posts around the complex: ‘INTRUDER ALERT. ALL PERSONNEL REPORT TO REAR OF COMPLEX. BE ADVISED THIS IS NOT A DRILL. NOT A DRILL. ENGAGE ENEMY ON SIGHT, WEAPONS LIVE. WEAPONS LIVE.’
Savage and Barton responded immediately. Jonah jumped from the cab. ‘Do I cover your post?’ he asked Savage.
‘Yeah!’ Savage shouted back. ‘You cover the gates. Anyone tries anything, kill them. Got it?’
Jonah nodded. As the soldiers disappeared between the buildings, Mace joined him.
‘Your mind-control thing works, then,’ he said.
‘Let’s go!’ said Jonah, ignoring his remark.
They walked briskly over to the prisoner hut, weapons drawn. Both guards reacted with alarm, fingering their guns.
‘Security breach,’ Jonah told them. ‘Everyone still inside?’
‘Yeah,’ said one of the guards, ‘but who are you?’
‘Your dad,’ replied Mace, shooting him through the forehead.
The second guard barely registered before Mace shot him too.
‘That was too easy,’ he said, shaking his head at the soldiers’ stupidity.
‘No time for jokes,’ replied Jonah. ‘Finish up. I’m going to blow the detonators.’
Mace watched him sprint away before kicking the wooden doors open. A bullet smacked against the frame, splintering the wood, and Mace hit the deck, rolling into the building. He got to one knee, saw the shooter ten metres ahead, peeking out from behind a bed, and took aim. The soldier poked his head out again and then again. The fourth time Mace fired, and took him down.
‘Like I said, easy,’ Mace twittered as he walked towards the prisoners, most of them either screaming with fright or sitting in shocked silence. Another bullet whizzed past his right ear, the gunman by the rear exit, using a toilet block for cover. Mace cursed, crouched and ran between two beds, where a black man with hair twisted into clumps was hiding. He smiled at the giant.
‘Need help?’ he asked.
Mace shook his head, stood and fired a covering shot. It missed completely, twanging instead against a metal cabinet. Mace scanned the room quickly but failed to see Tyrell. He looked again, giving the soldier enough time to fire back. This time the shot grazed Mace’s left shoulder. He dropped to his knees and groaned.
‘Give me the gun!’ shouted the black man. ‘Come on!’
Mace shrugged and handed over the pistol. The man rolled under one of the beds and crawled towards the toilet. Mace rubbed his shoulder and pulled out a second gun. He stood and fired again, before ducking. The soldier stepped out, aimed towards him and returned fire. The man with the strange hair saw his opening and planted two bullets into the soldier’s torso. The first one ripped through his groin and into his stomach. He dropped to his knees. The second bullet entered his right ear and crashed around inside his cranium. By the time his face smacked against the floor he was dead.
The black man stood and walked back to Mace. ‘My name’s Negus,’ he said to the giant. ‘I’m Resistance.’
Mace ignored niceties. ‘Tyrell – have you seen him?’ he demanded. ‘Big black guy with a shaven head, picked up a few hours ago.’
Negus shook his head. ‘They moved him earlier, took him south.’
‘Where?’
‘I don’t know,’ Negus admitted. ‘There was a soldier with him – a man called Boyd, and a female medic.’
‘Shit!’
‘Have you got transport?’
Mace nodded.
‘Come on, then,’ said Negus. ‘Help me get these people out of here.’
Mace snapped out of his frustration and urged everyone out of the room. A couple of prisoners, too sick to move, refused. Mace started to lift one of them, but Negus made him reconsider.
‘No time!’ he urged. ‘If they want to stay, leave them!’
All of a sudden the ground shook violently beneath their feet. Every plank of wood used to construct the hut vibrated.
‘What was that?’ yelled Negus.
‘Semtex!’ Mace shouted. ‘Come on, let’s go.’
They ushered the willing prisoners out and into the awaiting truck, Negus helping people into the back. The last to climb aboard was Jodie, her face full of fear. Negus nodded to her, told her everything would be fine and then joined Mace in the cab.
‘Time to go for a ride!’ Mace roared, stamping down on the accelerator. As three more powerful explosions shook the complex, the truck fishtailed on the gravel, the tyres fighting for purchase. Without warning, it shot forward at speed, smashing through the gates and out onto the road. Mace kept his foot down as they hit bump after bump until they reached the main road. There he slowed and turned left, heeding Jonah’s orders. Behind them, smoke billowed into the air as the explosions continued.
‘He’ll be OK,’ Negus said.
‘Who?’
‘Your Tyrell. He’s a strong lad, got a good head on him.’
Mace looked out of the side window. ‘He’ll have to be,’ he said softly. ‘He’s on his own now . . .’
38
STONE WATCHED ARON snoring away. Earlier, the boy had been oblivious to the sedative slipped into his tea. Now that he was out for a few hours, the rest of the plan could begin.
‘You want me to watch him?’ asked one of the soldiers in Stone’s unit, leaning his massive bulk against a wall.
‘No, just lock the door,’ said Stone. ‘I’ll come back for him later.’
‘Kid folded easily.’
‘I knew he would,’ Stone replied. ‘His sort always does.’
He left the soldier to it, and headed back up to the ground floor. The Mayor was in his drawing room, waiting for news. Stone imagined that he’d been sweating, crapping his pants in case there’d been no breakthrough. One day soon I’ll put a bullet in that fat skull, thought Stone. Right now though, he was still useful.
The Mayor was drinking an expensive brandy when Stone arrived, his face flushed and stress lines creasing his brow. ‘Well?’ he asked impatiently. ‘What did he say?’
Stone nodded. ‘They call it the Haven,’ he revealed. ‘It’s an old theatre, just outside the protected zone, accessed by tunnels.’
‘Do you have the directions?’
‘Yeah. The kid gave up everything. It seems this hideout is the centre of their operations. They store food and weapons there. And it’s where they take the people they rescue from the Hunt.’
‘But they can’t hide everyone in there, surely?’ the Mayor blurted.
‘Depends on how big it is,’ Stone pointed out.
‘Have you contacted Valefor?’
Stone walked across to the drinks cabinet, an antique piece that was two hundred years old. He took a cut-crystal glass and helped himself to the Mayor’s brandy. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ he asked, gesturing to the glass with a nod.
The Mayor shook his head. The folds of flesh under his chin wobbled. ‘Valefor?’ he repeated.
‘I thought I’d let you tell him,’ Stone replied. He swirled the amber liquid around the glass a few times before taking a swig. It was warm and fiery, and tasted rich. Stone raised his eyebrows. ‘This is great stuff,’ he said.
‘Have it,’ the Mayor told him.
‘So, yeah,’ Stone continued. ‘Thought that if you told Valefor, you’d be back in his good books.’
The Mayor grinned. It was the charmless smile of a spoiled child winning an argument. Hatred made Stone’s left temple twitch.
‘That’s very noble of you,’ said the old man. ‘You’ve returned to your senses.’
The mercenary looked away before he replied. ‘I told you I’d sort it out,’ he said.
‘What about that bitch?’ the Mayor asked.
‘Who?’
‘My stepdaughter . . .’
Stone took another sip of brandy. ‘What about her?’
The Mayor set down his own glass and told Stone to look at him. ‘Is she part of it?’
‘I’ve already told you,’ Stone reminded him, without heeding his request. ‘She’s a paid-up member.’
‘Oh well,’ the Mayor sighed. ‘I gave up her mother, and I’ll have to do the same with her.’
‘Gave her up?’ asked Stone.
‘One of those decisions that can’t be avoided,’ explained his boss.
Stone fiddled around in a pocket before taking out his cigarettes. ‘Mind if I smoke?’
‘Open the window first.’
Stone did as he was told, then lit up. ‘Tell me more,’ he said.
‘What’s to tell?’ the Mayor replied. ‘She was having an affair, running with the rebels. When Valefor found out, he gave me an ultimatum. My wife or my position. Like any rational man, I chose the latter.’
‘You allowed the demons to kill your wife?’
‘Of course,’ the Mayor told him. ‘She was a cheating slut and a traitor. What would you have done in my place? I didn’t just allow them to tear her apart; I stood and watched as they did so. The silly bitch was pregnant too – though not with my child. I couldn’t let her humiliate me any further. She had to die, as regrettable as it was. There are limits to any love.’
Stone nodded slowly. ‘I understand,’ he replied.
‘There are plenty of women in the world, Stone,’ the Mayor continued. ‘No point in losing your lifestyle because of one.’
Stone took a couple of long drags on his smoke, before finishing his brandy. ‘You should contact Valefor,’ he eventually said. ‘Right away.’
‘I shall go to him,’ said the Mayor. ‘Get the car ready.’
Stone shook his head. ‘I’ve got things to attend to,’ he replied. ‘Take one of the others, sir, and the credit will be all yours.’
The Mayor considered Stone’s words for a moment. ‘You don’t want any thanks?’ he asked.
‘Thanks?’ asked Stone. ‘I don’t need any. You can have it all.’
‘Can you arrange a driver?’
Stone nodded.
‘Do so at once, then,’ ordered the Mayor.
‘What about Martha?’
The Mayor sneered. ‘I’ll see her once my business with Valefor is concluded. Make her an offer she can’t refuse . . .’
‘I see,’ Stone replied before leaving to organize a chauffeur.
The Mayor’s car was pulling out of the drive when Stone called his handler.
‘Did you enjoy my theatrics this morning?’
‘Yes, sir, I thought you were very convincing as “Brogan”,’ Stone told him.
‘And it worked?’
‘Completely. The Mayor has just left to see Valefor, the boy is sleeping and I’m off to talk to the stepdaughter.’
‘Excellent news, Stone. Is there anything I can help you with?’
‘No, sir, everything is in hand. You enjoy your day and I’ll update you later.’
‘And have you considered where you’d like to take your break, once this matter has been satisfactorily concluded?’
‘Somewhere warm,’ Stone told him. ‘I miss the sun.’
‘Done,’ said the man who’d called himself Brogan. ‘What will you do with the boy?’
‘Oh, he deserves a reward too. Let’s see how accurate his information is first and then we’ll get to that.’
The caller chuckled. ‘Let me know then,’ he said. ‘Good day.’
‘Good day, Senator Wise.’
Stone pocketed the phone and went to find his men. Martha would be halfway through her shift by now, and he wanted to see her before the Mayor finished with Valefor. First, though, he needed a computer . . .
39
JONAH CAUGHT UP with the truck nine kilometres south of the ruined camp. Driving the lighter, faster jeep, he’d made up ground quickly after escaping from the handful of soldiers who’d survived the attack.
Mace pulled into the side of the road and he and Negus jumped out. Jonah followed suit. Mace began to introduce them, but Negus’ warm smile made it unnecessary.
‘Jonah!’ Negus cried, throwing out his arms.
Jonah accepted the embrace and the two of them exchanged some pleasantries.
Mace remained confused. ‘How come you . . .?’ he began, screwing up his face.
‘Met on the road, three weeks back.’ Negus beamed. ‘Talk about coincidence.’
Mace looked at Jonah. How many more surprises did he have to reveal?
‘Negus and his group are the rebels I told you about,’ Jonah explained.
‘We’ve got a settlement,’ added Negus, ‘due north of your city. There’s a good number of us out here.’
‘Is that how you ended up at the camp?’
Negus nodded. ‘I’m a scout,’ he replied. ‘Not very good. Been caught three times now – always escape though.’
‘How many men?’
Negus thought for a moment. ‘Around sixty men, maybe eighty or so women, and Lord knows about the kids. We take in anyone who wants to join us. Qui
te a few of your people seem to come to us.’
‘The people we rescue from the Hunt?’
‘Yeah . . .’
‘So why haven’t you made contact?’ asked Mace, relieved that at least some of the rescued seemed to have survived in the wastelands.
‘Demon protection,’ admitted Negus. ‘Most of us escaped similar places and we don’t want to go back. It might be dangerous out here but at least our lives belong to us.’
‘But what about food and shelter?’
Negus winked. ‘You’d be surprised how much you can grow or scavenge out here. And we raid the convoys regularly. Besides, the electricity and water supplies still work. The problem is finding buildings that are still connected. And then, once you do find somewhere, the second you use any power or water, it flashes up a red flag in the citadels.’
‘They monitor the flow?’
‘Yeah,’ said Negus. ‘Which is why we’re careful not to take water from the same supply more than once. And why we never venture as far as Fire City. Our existence rests on being hard to find, so we live in hiding. Still better than slavery though.’
‘I guess,’ said an impressed Mace. ‘We could learn a lot from you.’
Jonah coughed. ‘Maybe we should get to the cache?’ he told them. ‘This whole area will be flooded with the army very soon and we’re way behind schedule.’
Mace raised an eyebrow. ‘You didn’t kill them all?’
Jonah shook his head. ‘No time, and besides, there were civilians – a doctor and some support staff. I locked them in a hut but they’ll get out quickly enough. Then they’ll raise the alarm. I’m not concerned about regular troops, but if they send planes, then we’re in trouble.’
‘And they will send the planes,’ Negus added. ‘That’s a given.’
Mace looked unimpressed. What was the difference between a soldier and a civilian government worker? Both were traitors, both kissed demon arse. Why kill one and not the other? Instead of broaching the subject, however, he asked how far it was to the weapons hoard.
‘Less than two k,’ replied Jonah, ‘so let’s hurry. I can explain my actions later.’
‘We should check on the passengers too,’ Negus reminded them. ‘Some of them looked bad.’
