by S. J. Bryant
"Bloody—I know almost nothing!"
"Please, anything you can tell me."
Aart held his breath. This was it. Just when he thought everything was lost. Zap refused to tell Aart anything but she'd known Gin longer, perhaps she had a soft spot for him.
"Anything," Gin said.
Zap made a noise deep in her throat. "I'm going to be killed for this. Fine. All I know is that all the ones who have disappeared have gone past South Field B. That's where the locusts end. But there are enforcers there all the time. If you ask me, no one could get past. And besides, with the trackers, the enforcers would be able to find you within an hour."
"South Field B."
"That's all I'm saying."
"Thank you."
Aart heard the rustle of boots and lurched behind the far corner of the bin. Footsteps crunched passed and were gone. He heard breathing, and then a softer set followed the first.
Aart sagged against the bin. Beyond South Field B. He had to try it. Zap might not believe the rumors, but Aart at least knew that the trackers could be beat, perhaps the other workers had found a way to avoid the enforcers as well.
He blinked, eyes crusted from exhaustion, and poured the locusts from his basket into the bin. He then trudged into the building and ate his dinner in relative silence. What should he do now? Obviously he had to investigate South Field B but he was so tired and had already come close to death too many times in the last two days. On the other hand, he didn't want to spend one more day on Raster than he had to.
He mumbled an excuse about being tired and went to bed early. He noticed that Zap refused to look at Gin while Gin stared at the floor, oblivious to everything around him.
Aart lay down and faced away from the others. He couldn't leave it another day; for all he knew, the enforcers would drag him back to the shed tomorrow and he wouldn't get another chance. No, he had to go to South Field B tonight, before anything unexpected happened. But first he'd allow himself a few hours of sleep. His eyes drooped closed and he fell asleep despite the quiet conversation coming from the others.
Aart woke to pitch blackness and lay listening to the others' breathing. When he was sure they were asleep, he crept out of bed and out into the cool night air. His breath created small clouds of mist and goosebumps rose along his skin. He buried his tracking chip in the dirt by the deposit bin and made off through the fields.
His injured finger throbbed with each beat of his heart and the bandage was stained red. He grit his teeth and held his hand to his chest, doing his best to ignore it.
The buzz of locusts was dull and the moon cast a blue light over the field. In the distance, a bright torch swung back and forth over the crops. An enforcer.
Aart kept well away from the light and ducked below the crops when it swung toward him.
It took more than an hour for him to travel to South Field B. It looked much the same as South Field A, except the workers' house looked even more run-down. On the far side of the field, bright lights shone down on a barbed fence that ran the length of the area.
Aart edged through the crops to the edge of the workers' hut and listened. Heavy breathing; he could have been listening to Fillup.
Aart ducked low and crawled through the plants to the edge of the field, just outside the circle of light.
Enforcers patrolled the fence and moved between the pools of light, guns in hand. The sharp barbs of the fence glinted in the bright spot-lights. When he'd first arrived, the enforcer had told him the fence was electric; if that were true, how could Aart possibly get past it?
Aart tried to see past the light to what lay beyond the fence, but could make out nothing in the darkness. He'd assumed the whole planet was covered in locust fields, but that was impossible. There had to be an end somewhere. So what was beyond the fence? If Delia and others had got past, perhaps they'd found a way to signal for help. Perhaps ships could land out there and they'd found a way off the planet.
Aart's heart fluttered. He hoped that were true. He couldn't stay on Raster. He'd got no closer to finding Delia and this might be the answer why; she'd rescued herself.
Aart counted the seconds between each enforcer. They came like clockwork, but with not quite enough time between for him to get to the fence and climb over. Still, he had to try; especially if others had already done it.
He bit his lip and looked around him. Fields and locusts as far as his eyes could see. There had to be something he could use. First, he had to make sure the fence wasn't going to electrocute him as soon as he touched it.
He snatched a locust from a nearby plant and waited for the next enforcer to go by. He then hurled the locust at the fence, as hard as he could. It sailed through the air and slammed against the wires. It caught hold with its barbed legs and then flew off, back into the field.
Aart sagged, so much for the fence being electrified. Had the enforcer just told him that to make him scared? Or was the fence here broken and that's why the workers used it to escape?
He wouldn't get answers by sitting in the dirt and staring at it; he had to find a way to distract the enforcers and then climb over the fence into whatever lay beyond.
He backed away from the fence and scrabbled along the ground until he found a sizable stone, heavy enough that he had to use both hands to get it off the ground. A sharp edge pressed against his injured finger and he winced. His fingers slipped and the boulder dropped to the ground and rustled the plants.
Aart froze, listening, his heart thrummed. Nothing. He counted thirty seconds and, right on schedule, an enforcer walked through the nearest circle of light.
Aart took a deep breath and lifted the boulder a second time. This time he ignored the shot of pain through his finger and hoisted the rock up to his chest. He wouldn't have much time.
Sweat trickled down his cheeks despite the cool night air.
He pulled back and hurled the rock as hard as he could, then turned and dashed in the opposite direction, careful to make as little noise as possible. The rock rustled through the plants and landed with a solid thud.
"Hey, who's there?"
Aart crouched and watched the fence. The enforcer nearest to where the rock had landed stood in a circle of light with his gun aimed at the field.
"Show yourself! I'm warning you…"
"What's going on?" The next enforcer caught up and joined the first.
"Heard something."
"Probably a rat. Fire a few warning shots. That'll teach 'em."
The first enforcer grinned and fired a series of blasts into the field, near where the boulder had landed. Each shot cracked through the air and made Aart flinch. If that had been him…
He shuddered.
The enforcers weren't afraid of shooting first and asking questions later, although he should have already known that. How could he risk going over the fence?
If he didn't, he'd be stuck on Raster for at least the rest of his contract—maybe longer if the enforcers decided they liked, or didn't like, him. On top of that, he'd be no closer to finding Delia.
The two enforcers shared a joke and then shuffled on along the line of the fence.
Aart swallowed. If the two of them stayed walking together then there'd be a bigger gap in the patrols. It might just be enough for him to get over the fence, but could he risk it?
He didn't see that he had many other options, and he might not get a better chance.
He ran at a crouch, parallel to the fence so that he caught up to the enforcers and then overtook them. He kept going until he caught up to the patrol in front of the pair. This was it, his best chance.
Aart crept through the field to the edge of the light and waited until the enforcer's footsteps faded away.
Adrenalin poured through his veins. He dashed out of the field, leapt at the fence and caught the top. Sharp barbs gouged into his palms and dribbled blood down his wrists but he pushed the pain away and hauled his body up.
His too-big boots slipped on the wire fence and m
ade it shake and rattle. He gripped tighter and dragged upward. His shoulders burned. His head rose up above the level of the fence and then his chest. He just had to lean forward and topple over the top and he'd be free! He grinned and dragged himself up the last few inches.
"Hey! You! Stop or we shoot!"
Aart's stomach jerked and his breath caught in his throat.
"Down! Now!"
Heat crept up Aart's face. He could still do it; if he leaned forward and let gravity carry him over the fence he might just be able to get away in the darkness.
Then he remembered the rounds of gunfire the same enforcers had fired into the field minutes before. They'd kill him before he hit the ground.
He let his arms drop and then released his hold on the fence. His boots thudded to the dirt. The bright lights created a dark shadow around his feet.
"Turn around slowly with your hands up."
Aart lifted his bleeding hands and turned around. The bright lights of the enforcers' guns blinded him and he couldn't make out their faces.
"We should shoot him now," said one. "He's trouble."
"Isn't he the bounty hunter from the shed?"
"The one that couldn't hold his own against a scarecrow."
"Yeah."
The lights wavered on Aart's face.
"Could be."
"Boss said we couldn't let him get killed in the shed."
"What's that got to do with now?"
"Just saying. If boss didn't want him dead then…"
"He can't argue with wanting him dead now. He was trying to get over the fence!"
"Maybe we should ask him."
"Fine. But if he gets angry about being disturbed over something so stupid, it was your idea."
"Yeah."
One of the lights flicked off and Aart caught a silhouette move off a short distance and then lowered voices.
"Lucky Mike's got a soft touch. If it were up to me, you'd already be dead."
Aart swallowed a lump in his throat.
"How close was he to shooting you before?"
Aart's jaw twitched.
"Ah, close enough that you noticed. Wish he'd hit you then, save us a call."
The other light returned. "Boss says we can't kill him."
"What? Punishment for escaping is clear."
"Boss says no."
"That's bullshit. Is he going soft or something?"
The second enforcer hissed. "Don't let anyone hear you talking like that, or you might find yourself in the shed."
The first spat into the ground. "What are we supposed to do with him then?"
"Shed apparently."
"No," Aart said.
"Shut up!" The muzzle of a plasma rifle emerged from the darkness and slammed into Aart's ribs.
"The shed? But he was no entertainment before."
"Don't ask me. I'm just telling you what the boss told me."
"Bullshit. You're taking him then."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Get in there!" The enforcer shoved Aart through the door, into the shed, and then slammed it shut, plunging Aart into darkness.
He staggered to the curtained off room at the back and slumped onto the thin mattress, his heart hammering against his ribs. Teak was nowhere to be found and an eerie silence filled the building, broken only by his own breathing. He'd been so close, just a fence away from finding Delia and getting off the damned planet. Now he faced another fight and, based on how the last one had gone, his future didn't look bright.
The smell of blood, sweat, and stale alcohol filled the air. He covered his nose with his sleeve but it did little to block the stench. His stomach rolled as he lay down on the moldy mattress.
His injured finger burned and his ribs throbbed where the enforcer had hit him with the butt of his rifle.
Aart closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, but he couldn't get comfortable or shake the anxiety that made him nauseous.
Aart spent the entire day inside the dark shed, alone. He sweltered as the sun beat down on the metal roof and turned the building into an oven. He ran his fingers along the walls and found tiny cracks. He pressed his face up against them and relished in the brief wisps of fresh air.
The enforcers didn't bring him any food or water and by the time the sun set his head pounded and his dry tongue scraped against his throat.
An enforcer barged through the door. "You." Light and fresh air poured in after him.
Aart scrambled to his feet and held his hands up. He had no weapons and his muscles quaked but he'd never go down without a fight.
"You stay in here until you're called."
Aart nodded.
"Heard you tried to get over the fence," the enforcer said. "If it were up to me, you'd be dead. But boss said we had to put you here instead. He didn't say anything about your opponent though."
The enforcer leered at Aart and then whipped the curtain closed, leaving Aart alone in the squalid room.
Aart dropped onto the thin mattress and stared at the fluttering curtain. What did the enforcer mean? He obviously had a grudge against Aart—they all did; so what would they do? He supposed he was grateful to the boss, whoever he was, for not letting the enforcers kill him straight away, but was the shed really any better?
The main doors screeched open again, and voices echoed off the metal walls, followed by footsteps and the sounds of chinking glass.
"I've put a hundred credits on the bounty hunter."
"Then you're a fool!"
"It's a hundred to one odds."
"There's a reason the odds are so high. Did you see him fight last time? Plus, I heard the enforcers have a grudge. They'll have something special ready, you'll see."
"Cosmic craphole! I didn't know there was a grudge. I wonder if they'll let me change my bid—"
The voices trailed away into the general buzz of noise.
Aart swallowed. What did he mean; the enforcers would have something special? Being pummeled to within an inch of his life last time was more than enough.
He spent the next half an hour with his innards twisted in knots. His hunger and thirst made him weak, and his panic made it hard to think straight. It would be easy for the enforcers to see him dead, one too many punches to the head would do it. Or what if his opponent had a knife?
Aart scrounged across the room for any kind of weapon but found nothing.
The curtain whipped open to reveal the seething crown beyond. "Okay, bounty hunter. You're up."
Aart hesitated.
"Please, make me come and get you," the enforcer said.
Aart pushed away from the far wall and strode past the enforcer, into the crowd. Perhaps he could get away through the mass of people… but no, they'd come to see blood, they wouldn't let him disappear.
He ducked under the rope and into the cleared fighting ring. The crowd jeered and someone threw an empty bottle. It smacked into Aart's shoulder and clattered to the ground. Déjà vu. People cheered.
Aart did his best to ignore the crowd and hoped that his opponent would be Teak. At least Aart was fairly sure the big man wouldn't kill him unless he absolutely had to.
A roaring cheer grew and washed over the crowd.
Aart turned to face its source and his blood turned to ice. Two huge men swaggered toward him through the crowd. They towered over everyone else and their muscles gleamed in the bright overhead lights.
They ducked under the rope and lifted their hands to the crowd. The people cheered louder and stomped their feet.
Aart spun to the enforcer standing guard behind him. "I can't face two opponents! That's not fair."
The enforcer grinned. "Everything is fair in the shed."
"But—"
"Better get ready, hunter; they won't wait for you."
Aart spun back to see the two men edging around opposite sides of the arena toward him. One wore blue shorts, the other red.
Aart pressed his back against the rope but had nowhere to go with an opponent approaching from
each direction. Unlike Teak, he saw no mercy in their eyes; they wanted to see him bleed.
They closed in tighter, just within reach. Blue walked with a limp and favored his right side.
Red swung a meaty fist at Aart's head.
Aart ducked out of the way and lurched toward Blue. He slammed his foot into Blue's knee as he ran past, and kept going all the way to the rope at the far side of the arena before he spun to face them.
Blue groaned and his right leg gave out. He dropped to the dirt floor with a heavy thud.
Red ignored his companion and lumbered toward Aart with both hands clenched into fists.
Aart's legs trembled. He had to take out Red while Blue was still down, but he'd only get a minute, if that, and Red towered over him. If he had a weapon, anything to give him an advantage, he'd stand a chance, but he didn't.
Red swung; Aart ducked.
Red swung with his other fist and Aart stepped sideways then delivered a round-house kick to Red's stomach.
His foot collided with Red's hard abdomen and bounced back. Red didn't even blink.
Aart staggered, off balance, and Red snatched his collar and hauled him off the ground. Aart kicked the air. The toes of his boots pattered against Red's thighs.
"Think you're tough, aye, hunter?"
The crowd roared.
Red's grip pulled Aart's collar tight about his neck, cutting off the flow of oxygen. Aart gasped and stars flashed over his vision.
"I could kill you now," Red said. "But I think the people want a bit more of a show."
Red pulled back and then hurled Aart across the arena. His limbs flicked through the air and he slammed into the sand. It scraped across his bare limbs and coated his tongue. He blinked away gritty crystals.
Blue's huge boots loomed in front of his face. "You hurt my knee."
Aart tried to speak but Blue's hand clamped around his throat and choked off any sound.
"Kill him!" yelled someone in the crowd and the rest took up the chant.
Blue squeezed tighter.
Aart scratched at the bigger man's hands but couldn't tear him away.
"How do you like it?" Blue said. He drew back his fist and slammed it into Aart's knee.
