by Frankie Rose
“Agatha? Aggie, I can’t hear you…” I looked down at my cell phone, cursing when I saw the reception was dropping out.
“Agatha?”
“They ambushed us. We… explosion… they killed… had to leave…whyte…”
“Agatha, I can’t hear you!”
“… have to get to safety… Farley…. others are gone… dead…”
I reeled. The silo had been attacked? Someone was dead? The line crackled one last time before it disconnected entirely, and I threw the phone down onto the empty seat beside me.
That word ‘whyte’ echoed around the car. I’d tried to convince myself that I must have been wrong, but Agatha had just said the word herself. A cold, stony feeling settled on my stomach. I was headed for the Reavers’ fastness, the tower. It was time. This had to end. Tonight.
The closest entrances were in Chinatown. The streets were busy, and I felt numb as I dodged through the traffic. I couldn’t clear my mind. I tried to piece together what had happened to the others in the last twenty-four hours.
Is she okay? Is she safe?
I merged off the main strip and headed towards one of the lower entrances near the shopping district. It was a bold move, entering one of the closest access points to the Tower, but it could pay off. I would have further to go if I went in via an entrance closer to the city’s industrial areas, and it would be much harder to disguise my approach.
This way, all I needed to do was move quickly and not give anyone a chance to run ahead. If I succeeded, I’d be able to sneak up on them before they could prepare. Of course, it was much more dangerous, more heavily guarded.
Chinatown was fast approaching. There were at least two entrances in the area, both of which would be packed with people. They wouldn’t appreciate me charging through their buildings. I would just have to create a distraction.
I sped up through a traffic light and ran the red, swerving the car through a hard left into the narrowing streets of the Chinese district. A left and then a left again, and the streets began to narrow until I was forced to lose some speed. The gutters were strewn with ticker tape from some street party. Small red clouds fluttered up in the wake of the car’s tires as I skidded through a right-hand turn and sped up along the stretch of road ahead.
I screeched to a halt behind a delivery truck. The driver was lifting heavy boxes of exotic-looking fruit off the sidewalk and carrying them into a Chinese deli. I paused for a moment, running through the plan in my mind. It was hugely flawed and could go very wrong at any moment, but I had no other option. I took the key out of the ignition and got out of the car, heading to the trunk where I pulled out a gas canister. I got back into the Charger and popped the cap, and then sloshed the pungent liquid across the back seat and into the foot wells.
Once the canister was empty I wound down the window and got out of the car. I waited for the delivery driver to carry another armful of groceries into the building beside me and then produced the matchbook from the breast pocket of my shirt.
The match flared brightly when I struck it to the pad, and the flame wavered a little before strengthening. I gave one last mournful look at my Charger before I flicked the match through the open window. I heard the whoompf of the fire catching on the gasoline, but my back was already turned. I didn’t want to watch, and besides, I had no time.
The small explosion startled the people eating their late lunch in the restaurants along the street. They streamed to the windows and out onto the street to watch as the battered car, riddled with bullet holes, burst into flames.
Chen’s Golden Palace was one of the busiest restaurants in Chinatown. Its patrons and staff were amongst the growing throng of people gawping at my Charger. They didn’t notice my dark shadow as I slipped by.
I ran along the length of the empty restaurant, past tables still laden with steaming bowls of food, and pushed through the double doors into the back kitchen. A young Asian guy in stained chef whites looked up from the woks he watched over as I burst through the second set of double doors. He lowered his eyes back to the cook top, uninterested in me as I barrelled through the kitchen and disappeared through the exit.
The large storeroom was filled from ceiling to floor with hundreds of tins and sacks of flour and rice, all stacked neatly on shelves. There was nothing here the last time I came through this entrance. I cursed when I saw the metal shelves bolted down to the concrete over the grid I needed.
I looked around but found nothing I could use to unbolt the screws, so instead I planted my foot back against the wall and pushed hard against the metal shelving. They were top-heavy under the weight stacked on them, and it took very little effort to push them over. Tins crashed loudly to the floor and sacks split open, spewing their contents onto the concrete as the three-tiered frame toppled back, smashing into the shelves behind it.
The rear legs of the shelf were bent and the bolts remained intact, but the front two had pulled out of the concrete. There was just enough room to reach under and tug at the grid. I inserted my fingers between the gaps and pulled up, sliding the heavy iron cover to one side, then I shimmied under and pulled it back over.
This entrance used to be popular, but the air smelled stale as I ran through the dark. The tunnel was only a hundred feet long, and I slowed when I judged that I was approaching the door. I’d judged it well; a few tentative paces later I reached out and felt cold steel beneath my fingertips.
“Home Sweet Home,” I muttered under my breath.
I found the heavy wheel in the center of the door. Pulling out the handle, I carefully turned it until I heard a small metallic grinding inside, then spun it back the other way. It was like opening the door to a safe. If I got the combination wrong, the consequences wouldn’t be pretty. As I spun the wheel a final time, I prayed they hadn’t bothered to change the locks on me. It clicked. The door swung back an inch in my hand, casting a shard of light into the dark tunnel.
I pushed it back quickly—there were voices approaching on the other side of the door.
“They’re bringing them here now, sir. What would you like us to do with them?”
There was a long pause before the second person spoke. His voice was arrogant and sharp. Instantly familiar.
“You know what to do with the boy. The girl, the one you say was bitten by the whyte? Don’t bring her anywhere near Tobin. He’ll skin you alive.” Their footsteps came to an abrupt halt on the other side of the door. “The other girl…. I think he would actually like to meet her. He seems to have some sort of morbid curiosity. Make sure she’s mentally competent when you bring her to him. He doesn’t like playing with his toys when they can’t put up a fight.”
There was a small grunt and the sound of feet shuffling off into the distance, but I remained still, aware that one person remained. I stole myself and leaned forward, daring to pull the door back just a few millimeters so I could squint into the corridor.
Jacob stood alone, staring into space as the Immundus disappeared off down the hall. When I had first met Jacob, his effeminate features and lankiness had given the impression he would be gentler and softer than the Reavers before him, but in truth he was far, far worse.
The bastard had forced me into that box, and he’d laughed as his lackeys had picked it up and thrown it into the ocean. My blood began to boil in my veins. It was easy to bully a child, but I wasn’t so small anymore.
I’ll deal with you later, Pretty Boy.
But for now I mulled over the conversation I’d just overheard and held my position in the dark. Someone had been bitten? Was it Tess or was it… no, I couldn’t even think it.
They have her, boy. Save her… You have to save her. Save her…. Find her…. The whispers rose up in frantic chorus, drowning one another out. I pushed them back down, desperate for some room to think.
When I regained my focus, Jacob was gone. I edged out of the doorway in time to see the tall man disappear around the corner to the right. I ran in the other direction.
>
The design of the place had always troubled me. There was nowhere to hide. The passageway surrounding the Tower was a huge, sweeping circle that broke off into four pathways. They lie to the north, south, east and west, leading to the Four Quarters. In the center was the Tower, unlike other towers in that, instead of spiraling upwards, it wound down into the bowels of the earth. Its entrance was on the other side, across from the passageway to the North.
The hallway was an optical illusion; no matter how far I ran, it always looked as though I were just about to turn the corner up ahead, yet the curve in the wall remained constant.
The lights mounted on the sandstone walls zipped past my head with increasing speed as I ran faster. I couldn’t tell how much ground I’d covered or exactly how long I’d been running, but I knew I couldn’t be far. Up ahead, the northern passageway suddenly came into view. To the left, a gap in the wall appeared, the path to the First Quarter, and on the right hand the smaller, narrower opening, which led down to the Great Room below. That was where I would find Elliot. When I reached the entrance to the right, I paused for a second to get my footing. The way was narrow and treacherously steep. If I stumbled and fell, it would be a long time before I hit the bottom.
“Hello, Daniel.”
The voice startled me. A surge of energy burst from me before I had time to think, before I could see who I was attacking. It didn’t matter, though. I had no friends down here.
The burst of light hit Tobin full force. He was launched back in the flash of an eye, flying through the air before landing with a bone-crunching thud on the sandstone. My heart pounded around my body like a freight train. Were there more? I waited for the rush of footfall, but empty corridor faced me on the left and on the right.
“That…is no way to treat your host.” Tobin picked himself up off the floor and straightened his suit jacket.
“Where are my friends?” I hissed. The whisperers urged me to attack again.
Tobin paused from swiping the dust off his suit pants and fixed me with narrow, impossibly dark eyes. He was still as arrogant as ever.
“Well, now…I can’t seem to think who you could possibly mean.” He stepped towards the mouth of the entranceway, and I raised my hand, ready to defend myself.
“Oh, there’s plenty of time for that. First, I think you and I ought to have a little conversation.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Well, you can be stoic and look surly whilst I speak, then. It’ll be rather one sided, I suppose, but your responses are of little import either way. So….” He stepped closer, and I held my ground, never taking my eyes off the man. “Perhaps we do have some guests with us at the moment. We’ve thankfully had one of our own returned to us. We’re kindly offering our hospitality to those he traveled with. I hear that they will be joining my family in the Great Room shortly. We would be delighted to have your company, too.”
Tobin stepped into the bright corridor and ran his hand through his dark hair. I was shocked to see the flecks of grey at his temples. I laughed scathingly. “You’re getting old, Tobin. Seems the years haven’t been so kind to you.”
Tobin shrugged, wiping some imaginary dust from his hands. “A minor annoyance. Some things just cost more to achieve than others. It’s nice that you’re concerned about my wellbeing, though, Daniel. Thank you.”
“Not concerned, just observing you’re not as strong as you used to be.”
“Oh, that’s not true. I just temporarily exhausted a portion of my reserves on a pet project of mine.” Tobin’s eyes glinted as he paced along the wall, enjoying his own rhetoric. “I heard you may have actually had occasion to meet her recently?”
Realization flooded through my mind, and I glared at Tobin with disgust. “So you made the whyte. You killed Farley’s mother.”
“And you thought Elliott did it, I suppose? Unfortunately my son is incapable of cleaning up his own messes. Yes, I killed her. It was fun, too. Rather poetic, don’t you think? That it was the girl’s mother?”
The energy inside me twisted and stormed. The man continued to smile at me, though he stopped his pacing to ponder me for a moment. “I’m curious, Daniel. What did you envision happening here?”
“Well, I guess I hadn’t really thought that far ahead,” I snapped. Tobin’s presumption irked me. This wasn’t over yet.
“Okay. I can see you’re in a bad mood so I’ll make this quick. I’m giving you the option.” He smiled, anticipating my reaction. “It seems I’ve been in a very giving mood of late. You have to die. But Farley…I’m leaving her fate in your hands. What I’m proposing is this: you can turn yourself over to me now with no more bravado or showmanship, and I will allow her to live. She can be, say, Elliot’s servant girl or something. She was his problem in the first place. I suppose she could remain so.
“Alternatively, if you decide that you wish to continue down this path, then you will die, I assure you of that much. But before you do, I will allow you the pleasure of watching me turn Farley into one of my little pet projects first.”
I leapt forward before Tobin could finish his sentence. “You will not harm her.”
“I’m afraid it may already be a little too late for that, boy. My people can get carried away sometimes. You know how it is. I’m told she doesn’t have any broken bones, so that’s a small blessing.”
My vision swam. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just tear your head off right now. You’re here all alone.”
Tobin wagged an index finger, propping himself against the wall. “You raise a good point. At this stage in the proceedings, I’m counting on the truth behind a hideous rumor. I’ve been told that you love this girl. It can’t be true, can it?”
I clenched my jaw and a disbelieving smile twisted Tobin’s face. “Well, who would have thought it? In that case, I have every confidence that I am quite safe. If you harm me or the guards hear any disturbance in the halls, then they’ll kill your little love interest quicker than you can blink.” He caught the pained expression that flashed over my face and nodded with satisfaction. “You know, it’s ironic. I didn’t think this girl would mean so much to you. You were always such a smart boy. Who knew you would let yourself fall in love and become as weak as any of the rest of them.” He gestured to the city overhead. “It’s a shame, really. You could’ve been so much more. We learned a long time ago that emotions like that particular one only serve to make you soft. Careless and easily overcome.”
I remained silent. There was nothing I could do. If I tried to kill him, then Farley died. She wasn’t supposed to be here. This was exactly what I knew would happen if she were involved. I cursed myself for not making sure she was far, far away when all this came to pass. I didn’t trust Tobin as far as I could throw him. They would kill her as soon as I was disposed of and no mistake. She was an affront in their eyes. Tobin wouldn’t tolerate her existence anywhere on the face of the planet, let alone here in their fastness.
“I want to see her.”
“As a guarantee to an agreement?”
I nodded.
“Excellent. In that case, you may see the girl. She’ll probably be with the others in the Great Room by now. Let us go and see.” Tobin indicated toward the staircase and I reluctantly descended, the man following close behind. At the first landing, I left the stairs and entered the high vaulted anteroom to be greeted by eight heavily armed Immundus. Their guns were aimed and ready when we emerged from the stairwell.
“The boy has shown sense. He’s handing himself over,” Tobin told the men. The news didn’t affect their hard looks or the determination with which they pointed their guns at my head, however. I allowed myself a hard smile of my own.
I could kill you all in an instant and your fat fingers wouldn’t have a chance to pull the triggers.
The Great Room was so called because of its size and grandeur. Even its huge mahogany doors were majestic and imposing. They were inlaid with lapis lazuli, an
d the rich wood bore a host of beautifully carved animals: a lion bringing down a springbok; a tiger crouching in wait, its eyes piercing through the polished wood; snakes; a ram; a hundred different kinds of tiny birds scattered to the sky depicted overhead. They were a masterpiece in themselves. Very few people got to walk through those doors. Even fewer walked out. As the two nearest Immundus turned the weighty iron handles, my heart began to quicken.
The round room was cavernous and cold despite being filled with close to eighty bodies. On the dais at the head of the room were the three seats of judgment, the lesser two of which were occupied by Elliot and Jacob, who observed me with smug superiority. The largest, most impressive chair sat in the middle, empty, awaiting Tobin as he strolled in casually behind me.
The sea of people turned in unison as we entered. All eyes were suddenly on me, eyes filled with distaste or confusion, some with curiosity and intrigue, yet it was the eyes filled with fear I noticed the most.
There were men, women, and children from the quarters mingled in amongst the stern-looking Immundus, and it was clear they didn’t want to be there. They talked in hurried, hushed tones and averted their eyes from mine as I swept the room, looking for Farley and the others.
Oliver stood stiffly at the base of the platform beneath Elliot’s feet with an Immundus guard on either side of him. He looked alarmed and washed out, so pale that the stark purple and blue of the swollen bruise below his left eye stood out like fresh ink. His bottom lip was badly split, and a small line of blood had trickled down his chin and dried there. I noted with unease that they had already forced him into an expensive-looking suit, and the fine cut and color of the material was almost identical to the one that Elliot wore.
The crowd parted as we neared, giving us a wide path to the judgment seats. As soon as we arrived at the base of the platform, Tobin stepped up and turned to face the room, taking his seat with an air of regal pomp. He looked down on me and gave a false smile.
“Where is she?” I hissed.
The room erupted in a low rumble of chatter. I ignored them and focused on Tobin, who stared down on me with disapproval. Eventually, he broke his gaze to nod at a guard standing to the side of the room. The Immundus walked back towards the door, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the chamber. The giant wooden doors were pulled back once more and he disappeared from sight, leaving the people present in the room waiting in uncomfortable silence. I examined each man upon the platform critically, imagining all of the ways I’d like to kill them.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Tobin commented.
“You don’t want to know.”
“Oh, please…enlighten us.” My eyes flashed, and Tobin’s sneering smile faded a little. “On second thoughts, don’t bother. Instead, let me take this opportunity to offer my condolences. I hear Aldan is dead.”
“Yes. The first of your kind to die, I believe. Unfortunate. Just proves you’re not as invincible as you think.”
“Oh, come, now. I heard Aldan gave his own life. More of a suicide than anything else. I doubt he could have died at someone else’s hand. Just as I doubt that any of us could die at yours.”
“Aldan thought differently. He thought I could kill you, and I think I can, too,” I hissed.
Elliot rolled his eyes. “You can’t seriously think we’re concerned about the ramblings of a crazy old man.”
Tobin agreed. “Yes, Aldan was never a concern of ours. You, on the other hand…” He stopped short as the doors swung open again and two guards entered, carrying with them the limp figure of a girl.
Her head lolled lifelessly and her feet dragged behind her as she was hauled through the Great Room. Her clothes were filthy and damp. Her hair hung down over her face so that it was almost impossible to see her face, but I knew immediately. It was Farley.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Unity, Deadly Unity
