“I do notnow know,” Berhanu said, and he almost sounded satisfied. “I never knew. The guardian of the sanctuary hid it without telling me. Only he knows where it is now.”
“He is dead!” K’ebero screamed. “He chose to remain silent, and now he is dead!”
A ghost of emotion flickered on Berhanu’s swollen face. “Then you really are the fool.”
K’ebero shot him. Berhanu stumbled backwards as a dark spot bloomed in the fabric of his rumpled suit just above his stomach, looking down at it in mild shock. She shot him again, stalking forward now, and again, each burst of light throwing her face into sharp relief, revealing her bared teeth and making her amber eyes glow. Berhanu fell to the ground, already dead as she shot him a fourth time directly in the face.
Rick was already moving, ignoring the high, monotonous whine that had replaced all sound. He threw himself at K’ebero even as she pulled the trigger for the final time, slamming into her with his shoulder. They crashed through a wooden post as they fell and he tried to wrench the pistol from her grip, but she yanked it out of reach. A boot went into his gut, the combined force of his descent and her kick exploding the breath from him like a popped balloon, and he saw the pistol swing around.
He threw himself to the side, landing on Berhanu’s body and rolling over it as the gun went off. He couldn’t hear it through the cotton stuffed in his ears, only saw the flash and the rain of debris that fell on K’ebero as the bullet hit the ceiling. She raised an arm to shield her face.
Move.
Blinking away ghostly afterimages from the muzzle flash, Rick pushed himself off Berhanu’s body and scrambled backwards, away from K’ebero and into the shadows. He slipped into the rows of wooden posts like a deer disappearing into the trees to escape a hunter, moving as far back as he could. When his back hit the wall he crouched motionless and tried to control his breathing.
K’ebero was getting to her feet. Her motions were slower, sluggish; she seemed dazed, maybe even hurt by the fall. Certainly she was as deaf as he was, hopefully a bit more blind. Rick saw her turn her head towards the hole in the ceiling, saw her jaw move and heard a rubbery mumbling as she shouted something. A moment later a man dropped down into the hypocaust, landing in a crouch with his rifle raised. A light came to life beneath the barrel, and he slowly began to sweep it across the chamber.
Shit. Rick dropped lower, pressed nearly flat on the floor. He could actually feel his heart beating against it, rocking him slightly, as the beam of light swung towards him from the left, aimed several feet above his head. The forest of posts scattered it, throwing strange slender shadows in all directions. Hopefully that would disguise him -- but even if it did, how long could he really last? All K’ebero had to do was climb out of the hypocaust and drop a grenade down after her.
I have to get out. Get to the hole in the ceiling -- except there were two armed people in his way, not to mention the army waiting on the surface. The only other option was that small crawlspace Berhanu had pointed out, but Rick wasn’t confident he would be able to fit and didn’t relish the idea of getting stuck with his ass hanging out for K’ebero to fill with bullets. There was simply no dignity in that.
The light passed over him. Rick held his breath, willing himself to disappear. It moved without pause, continuing off to his right. The posts had obscured him -- but K’ebero was moving now, taking cautious steps through the posts, pistol raised. Rick tried to figure out how many shots she had left. Ten? That seemed like a safe bet. Not that it mattered, with that assault rifle to contend with.
She was speaking again, and Rick could just barely make out her words. “…stay hidden down here like a coward. It does not matter. Your friends will be fed to my huntress soon. The order has already been given.”
Rick clenched his teeth. He needed to move, to get out of here, steal a vehicle. If he could get back to that arena, he could get to Kai.
K’ebero was coming closer, headed directly for his corner. She knew he was there, only wanted to draw it out, to savor the hunt. The soldier was moving now as well, flanking him from the left. They knew they had him.
“You should not have come to Ethiopia,” K’ebero was saying.
Rick glanced towards the crawlspace opening to his right. It was his only chance.
“You should not have entered my kingdom.”
A light fell on him. K’ebero had turned on her wristband and pinned him in its glare. Rick squinted up at her through the wooden posts -- then launched himself forward. His body crashed through the ancient dried wood, taking out countless supports. He flew towards K’ebero in a shower of splinters. She fired, but the shot must have missed him or else he was too amped on adrenaline to notice it right now. A moment later he heard the angry chatter of the assault rifle, and more posts exploded around him.
There was a tremendous crack that Rick felt in his bones, and then the ceiling began to cave in, tumbling down in great stone chunks. Bodies came with it too, the soldiers on the platform above, whose weight, combined with the sudden lack of support, had led to the collapse. Rick landed on his side, covered his head with both arms, and rolled in what he hoped was the direction of the crawlspace as the air became choked with dust. He heard screams and more guns going off, seeking him out or simply by accident, he couldn’t say. He couldn’t see, could barely even think in the chaos. He just kept moving.
Heavy bits of rock bounced off him, big enough to leave bruises and maybe crack bone, but so far nothing felt broken. Rick rolled until he hit a wall on his right and came to a halt on his stomach. He reached out with his right hand, groping blindly. The fact that he could reach at all told him he’d found the culvert. Eyes still squeezed shut, he pulled himself around and wormed his way into it. As he’d feared, it was a tight fit, the walls squeezing against his shoulders worse even than the drainage pipe in Houston had done. His arms were pinned to his sides. Rick kicked, boots finding purchase against the floor and managing to propel him forward by a few inches. It was slow, but it was the best he could hope for.
I don’t even know where this thing opens up, he realized as he crawled. Assuming it ever does. He opened his eyes and saw only darkness. Behind him the clamor of the collapse had died down, but he could hear voices now, angry and concerned. None of them sounded like K’ebero. Maybe she’d died in the cave-in. It was a pleasant thought that didn’t really change his situation.
He crawled, constantly expecting his face to smush into a wall or a pile of dirt blocking his way forward. If that happened, he’d have no choice but to wait until the soldiers left before backing out and hoping none of them decided to roll a grenade in after him.
But he met no obstructions, and after a few minutes he could feel a soft draft against his face. Rick pushed against the burning in his legs, spurred by the prospect of fresh air -- and toppled over a drop. He slid forward and came tumbling out of the tunnel and into a dusty ditch, the heat of the sun on his neck.
Blinking in the light, Rick raised himself to a crouch. The ditch was a few feet deep and appeared to be outside the ruin complex. Staying low, he peered over the edge of the ditch and got his bearings.
The passage had indeed taken him beyond Dungur. He was beside the road, the ruins several yards to his right. From here he could see the Free Army scrambling into action, abandoning their watch of the highway to rush to their leader’s aid. That left the parking lot, and all the vehicles, unprotected.
Knowing he wouldn’t get a second chance, Rick climbed out of the ditch as soon as the last soldier had disappeared from view and sprinted in a crouch for the parking lot. He ducked behind the first vehicle he reached, a Humvee, and peered around it. The ruins were a flurry of activity, all of the soldiers gathered in a tight group around the central platform. A cloud of dust hung over the structure, and through it he could see soldiers hauling up chunks of stone and earth and masonry, frantically trying to dig out K’ebero.
Rick moved to the other side of the Humvee and sidled up to th
e driver’s door, staying in a low crouch. Biting his lip, he tugged on the handle. It opened. Rick gave a silent whoop in celebration -- and then the alarm began to go off.
“Oh, come on!”
Above the electronic bleeps and wails, shouts came from the ruins. He didn’t wait around, throwing himself into the Humvee and slamming the door shut behind him. Through the windshield he glimpsed a mass of soldiers surging towards him, rifles raised. There was a spare pistol in the center console. Rick mentally tagged it as plan B and punched the ignition button.
The Humvee rumbled to life.
Today was proving to be a very mixed bag as far as luck went.
Killing the alarm, Rick threw it into reverse and slammed on the accelerator, roaring backwards out of the parking lot and whipping the wheel around to straighten out on the road as bullets began to slam into the side of the Humvee.
Twenty-Two
NPAFE Camp
Axum, Ethiopia
“What’s going on?” Estelle’s voice, groggy and thick, broke the silence for the first time in what felt like hours. There were excited voices coming from outside, shouts both near and far and the sounds of people running. It had been going on for a while, but she seemed to have only just noticed it.
“Not sure.” Kai had been listening carefully since it began. “But if I had to guess, I’d say Rick found some way to upset K’ebero’s apple cart.”
Booker raised his head, blinking as if coming awake. The oppressive heat of the shipping container had sapped the energy from all of them. “And…is that a good thing?”
Kai shrugged. “More like an inevitability.”
“But doesn’t that mean --” Estelle whispered.
The door to the container burst open, flooding the space with blinding light. Kai, who had been expecting this for a while, had his eyes narrowed when it happened and so wasn’t completely blinded. He could make out the armed figures standing in the opening, Booker struggling to get to his feet, Estelle hurriedly pulling her blouse back over her head.
“Out!” barked a voice. “Now! Get up!”
Kai stood, taking note of the parts of him that still twinged with pain. Booker helped Estelle get up. “What’s going on?” the FBI agent demanded.
“Your time is up,” said another soldier. It sounded as though he were grinning. “Now we get a show.”
The opposite end of the container opened, making all three of them whip around. Beyond the shining white square of sunlight they could hear something like the roar of a stadium, whistles, and even a few sporadic gunshots.
Well, Kai thought resignedly. It’s not as if this wasn’t going to happen.
Two soldiers were moving in from the front of the container, brandishing their rifles. “Move, now. Outside.”
Estelle stumbled away from them, Booker keeping a protective hand on her arm. Kai snatched his sweat-sodden shirt from the floor and pulled it on, leading the way out into the open air. “Grab your shirt,” he told Booker.
The agent blinked. “Does it matter?”
“Adds another layer of material for claws and teeth to slice through before they get to your skin. Probably won’t make much of a difference, but it won’t hurt either.”
Booker’s face drained of what little bravado he’d had left, and he quickly gathered up his shirt.
Any escape from the mugginess of the container was a small blessing, despite the circumstances. They stepped out into a wide circular patch of dirt -- the interior of the arena. The curving wall that surrounded them was made of more shipping containers, one layer atop another, stacked to a height of more than twelve feet. Curls of razor wire ringed the inner edge of the wall, forming a protective barrier for the spectators that had gathered behind it. It looked like all of K’ebero’s army was here to watch the spectacle, perched atop the shipping containers. Some had bottles of tej and food wrapped in paper, others held up phones and devices to record the event. Positioned at regular intervals throughout the crowd were soldiers bearing long staff-like objects with a double prong at one end.
Cattle prods, he guessed. But was that to keep them from climbing out, or to keep the aviraptor in?
“This is insane,” Booker was saying in a rasping voice. “What kind of people do this?”
“The desperate kind,” Kai said. There had been plenty of bloodsports in Houston, plenty of gangs trying to “recruit” him as a fighter. It didn’t matter who you were or where you came from. The collapse of civilization could always bring out the meanest in some people, and the easiest way to survive was to fall in line. He wondered how many of these spectators were here just to fit in, to avoid being thrown into the arena next.
A group of two soldiers met them as they exited the container. One of them stepped forward, holding up a hand and frowning at them through a pair of dark-framed glasses. “I think those are mine,” Estelle said faintly.
The soldier seemed to be sizing them up. “You,” he said finally, pointing to Booker. “Back into the container.”
“What?”
“You two.” He indicated Kai and Estelle. “You’ll go together.”
“No.” Booker moved to put himself between Estelle and the soldier. “If she’s going out, so am I.”
The soldier raised his rifle, not aiming it at Booker but merely hefting it suggestively. “This is not a debate. Get back into the container. You will have your chance.”
“Why?” Booker demanded. “It’ll be a better show with all three of us --”
The soldier stepped forward, raising the stock of his rifle threateningly. Estelle quickly slipped around Booker, placing herself before him. “Stop, please! I’ll go.”
“Estelle --”
“It -- it’s alright, Booker. Please, just…”
“Save your strength,” Kai told him. “There’ll be a moment. Wait for it.”
The agent was breathing heavily and swaying slightly on his feet, weakened by dehydration and the beginnings of heat-stroke. “I’m not letting her go out there alone.”
“She won’t be,” Kai said.
They held each other’s gaze for a moment, and then Booker nodded. It looked like the most difficult thing he had ever done. He took a step back, letting one of the soldiers guide him back into the container. He met Estelle’s eyes and didn’t look away until the door was slammed shut. “You’ll be alright,” was the last thing he said.
Kai turned towards the other soldier. “Don’t suppose we get any weapons?”
The man simply grinned, then turned on his heel and jogged over to the arena entrance. As soon as he had exited, a large gate was rolled shut, sealing the two of them in. They were alone.
The spectators were getting louder, urging the show to start. Estelle hadn’t moved, was still staring at the door that hid Booker from view. Gently Kai took her arm. She was shivering. She looked sharply around at him.
“We’d better move back,” he said, nodding towards the second shipping container door, the one that was reinforced. Estelle glanced at it, then nodded. As they hurried towards the center of the arena they began to hear bangs and bird-like screeches coming from the aviraptor’s container. Each burst of sound made Estelle jump as if burned.
They came to a halt in the middle of the arena. There was nothing to take cover behind, no barriers, not even a rock that could maybe be used as a weapon. There were, however, patches of darkened dirt that looked like they had been stained in the recent past.
A roar came from the aviraptor’s container. They both spun to face it as the crowd roared in response. “As soon as that door opens,” Kai said, keeping his voice level, “you stay behind me. Don’t make any sudden moves. I’ll try to hold its attention.”
Estelle nodded vigorously, dark hair flying. “What then?” she asked breathlessly.
“Then we wait for Rick to show up.”
She stared up at him, eyes wide. “How do you know he’s coming back?”
“The only reason Rick wouldn’t come back is if he’s d
ead. And he’s pretty damn hard to kill. So.” He shrugged, glancing at her with a half-smile.
Estelle’s lips almost twitched. “How are you so calm?”
He wasn’t. His heart was pounding a tattoo against his ribs and every hair on his body was standing on end. His field of vision seemed to have widened slightly, everything becoming a tad brighter, and his ears twitched at the slightest sound, filtering out the roar of the crowd. Adrenal glands were flooding his veins with liquid electricity, making his muscles tighten and twitch. It was very nearly overwhelming, very nearly enough to throw him into a panic. The only reason it didn’t was because he was used to it. Because he’d learned long ago to suppress his flight instinct and face what was coming head-on. Doing anything else was liable to get him and those he cared about killed.
“Years of practice.”
The reinforced door flew open, revealing a dark hole in the wall of containers. “Behind me,” Kai growled as the crowd buzzed like a nest of angry hornets. Estelle scrambled around him, one small hand resting on his back as if to brace him.
Kai kept his eyes on that dark opening. He could sense more than see something moving in there. Snorts and chirps came from inside, and the crowd began a rhythmic chanting, boots pounding on the top of the wall, those above the container stomping most fervently. It increased in tempo, growing frantic, until there were no spaces between the beats and it was simply an unending roar of voices and metal.
The aviraptor trotted out into the arena, shaking its head at the noise. The voice of the crowd swelled, and the animal turned on the spot, jaws opening wide to hiss at the faces leering down at it. Kai allowed himself a moment of pity for the thing. It was a captive as much as they were. Even from here he could see the places where its coat of striated feathers was marred by scars.
Then it turned to face him, nostrils flaring as it picked up his scent. The two large, clawed feet kicked in the dirt. Very slowly, Kai reached back to find Estelle’s shoulder and push her gently away from him. She seemed reluctant to go.
A Covenant of Thieves Page 39
