Anhur

by Wayne Marinovich

  The shell of architecture that was once a petrol station was overgrown with plants and covered with rust. Only the buzzards that were sitting on the forecourt roof, and the main sign, hinted at recent activity. More came in from circling heights, their large wings pushing dust clouds forward as they landed

  ‘Jesus, there’s a pile of something on that forecourt. Let’s take a look. The buzzards are squabbling over food there.’

  ‘We’re pulling into a fuel station. Keep sweeping for movement,’ Gibbs said out loud for all to hear.

  With the truck facing the four rusting fuel pumps, Gibbs stopped and activated the handbrakes which shut down the fusion cycle and switched to hydrogen battery power. He picked up the SA80 and jumped down from the cab. Sweeping the weapon up and down the street, he scoured the rooftops of the abandoned shops across the roads. All the shop fronts had been stripped and recycled.

  ‘Clear,’ he said.

  The same reply came from Smithy, so Gibbs walked forward to the fuel pumps. The stench was overpowering. He choked back the gag reflex as he approached a pile of rags. Human limbs were barely recognisable, having been picked clean.

  ‘All looks empty inside the building,’ Smithy said, sweeping his M4 from left to right.

  ‘Quiet,’ Gibbs said, stopping near the pile of bodies. Two buzzards that had bounded away looked up at him.

  ‘What?’ Smithy asked in a hushed tone.

  ‘A voice. It sounds like they’re saying, water.’

  The two men walked through the forecourt, and around the side of the building. A coyote bolted from the carcass of a vulture it had managed to kill, tail between its legs as it disappeared around a rusty blue car. Leaning up against the building wall was a shape that appeared to be that of a person. Smithy raised his M4. ‘Don’t move, old-timer.’

  ‘Water, please.’

  Gibbs walked towards the man who was slumped against the concrete wall. He was dressed in a tattered jacket, black pants and boots with no laces, with a dirty blanket wrapped around his shoulder. A set of wooden crutches lay at his side.

  ‘Drop that blanket and let me see your hands, first,’ he said. ‘And slowly.’

  The man complied.

  ‘Get him a bottle of water, Smithy,’ Gibbs said, kneeling in front of the man.

  ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Martin,’ he said in a husky voice. Long dirty grey hair draped over his shoulders, and his chapped and cracked lips were red through his long grey beard.

  ‘What happened here, Martin?’ Gibbs said, taking a bottle of water from Smithy. He raised it to Martin’s lips. ‘Sip on this slowly.’

  The man winced as the water wet his lips and soothed his dry mouth and throat. He took three swallows then pushed it away. ‘Thank you, son.’

  ‘How many bodies back there?’ Gibbs said.

  ‘Seven or eight men and boys. There were tortured then killed. The bastards took all the women and girls.’

  ‘Friends and family?’

  ‘No. They were a group of travellers who picked me up about a week ago. Lovely folks trying to get to a nearby enclave with the name of Constance,’ he said, taking another sip of water. ‘I thought I was a dead man. Those pesky buzzards kept harassing me for four days. I had a small bottle of water in my jacket, and I rationed it to a few capfuls a day. Ran out yesterday.’

  ‘Are there any gangs in the vicinity?’ Gibbs asked, taking the bottle from the man.

  ‘Two vans passed through this morning. In a hurry, that’s for sure. Like the devil was on their tail.’

  ‘Can you stand up? We have a battle truck around the corner.’

  ‘I’m old and will be a burden. Leave me a water bottle and be on your way,’ Martin said, grabbing one of his crutches. ‘I can keep the buzzards at bay with this. Been doing it for three days already.’

  Smithy walked around the front of the man. He scanned the streets again as a van approached. ‘We need to keep moving, boss. Here come the boys.’

  ‘We’re not going to leave you here,’ Gibbs said.

  Stuart came walking around the corner. ‘Gibbs, we need to go. Warren’s in a lot of pain, and the morphine is nearly finished.’

  Martin looked up at the boy and then back at Gibbs. He pushed himself upright with some effort. ‘Gibbs, huh?’ he said. ‘What’s wrong with your friend?’

  ‘Took a bullet a couple of days back.’

  ‘Plus he has one that is lodged in his knee,’ Smithy said. ‘An old wound.’

  ‘How has his temperature been?’ Martin said.

  ‘Stable. We’ve done all the standard field dressings. I had a general purpose antibiotic that I gave him,’ Gibbs said.

  ‘If the pain is getting worse, it could be haemorrhaging inside.’

  ‘That’s the reason we’re looking for an enclave with a doctor or hospital.’

  ‘Constance has a good hospital but no doctor anymore.’

  ‘Have they got a dentist, maybe?’ Gibbs said.

  ‘No, both left.’

  ‘You seem to know a lot about this place.’

  ‘Give me a hand up, young man,’ Martin said, holding his hand out to Stuart. ‘Let’s see this injured man.’

  Gibbs looked around at Smithy, who shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Martin? How do you know about this doctor and dentist?’

  ‘I was that doctor,’ he said. ‘I used to help run the enclave. I know the warlord there. They will help you if you have something to trade.’

  ‘We don’t have anything to trade other than some weaponry and a little food.’

  Martin hunched over on his crutches. He looked at Gibbs. ‘I’m wanted back there, so you can use me for leverage.’

  Gibbs stood up and walked forward, pressing the barrel of the SA80 into Martin’s back. ‘So tell me, Martin, what did you do to get kicked out of an enclave? I don’t want us to get into the line of fire over you.’

  Martin smiled. ‘I left under cover of darkness. I wasn’t thrown out.’

  ‘And for that matter, just why did the gang members simply leave you and not kill you?’

  Martin turned and looked across the street. ‘I’m a coward, Mr Gibbs. I ran away instead of fighting on both accounts. Now we can talk about this all day, or I can look at your wounded man. Time is precious.’

  Chapter 26

  Constance, Tennessee, USA – 2043

  The smell of fresh flowers filled his nostrils, and a vision of Christina flashed before him. Tall, with her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, her smile beamed from ear to ear and the gentle lilt of her American accent roused old memories. The image disappeared into the heat of the dawn sunrise as he looked into the glow of the sun over the steering wheel. Karen sat in the truck’s passenger seat next to him. It was all Smithy’s idea.

  ‘How long was I asleep?’ she said, rubbing her hands with a clear substance that smelt like something Gibbs hadn’t smelt for years, a sweet shop he’d visited as a child in Scotland.

  ‘Two or three hours maybe,’ he said.

  ‘A fat load of good I’m at riding shotgun,’ she said, looking back at the others in the truck. ‘How long have you been behind the wheel? Shouldn’t one of them have come to relieve you? I can learn to drive if you’ll teach me.’

  Gibbs felt himself smiling. ‘We’ve been on the road for four hours. Apparently, we should be there soon. Martin managed to remember a nearby town that’s still on the GPS. I’ll wake him when we get closer.’

  ‘Are you going to teach me?’

  ‘What, to drive? Now?’

  ‘Why not? It’s dark out there. You said last night that it’s safer to travel at night.’

  ‘Yes, I did. It’s also best to stay alive on these roads by not having someone who has never driven before toppling us into a culvert.’

  ‘I’m a quick learner.’

  ‘I do believe that. It’s just that there are a lot of lives in the back there. I’d like to wake them up in a calm and quiet manner, not
all screaming and flying around the truck.’

  She laughed a joyous sound and Gibbs felt a warmth flowing through him. ‘You’re like Josey Wales,’ she said, screwing the lid onto a small bottle.

  ‘What are you’re rubbing on your hands?’

  ‘This is like a moisturiser. It is made with gelatin and other things that Enyo used to get from people on our travels. It has a great smell too,’ she said, extending her arm across the cab. ‘Have a sniff.’

  ‘I can smell it from here, thanks,’ Gibbs said, shifting in his seat and pulling at the neck of his shirt with his finger.

  ‘You haven’t been around women in a while, have you?’

  Gibbs stuttered, focusing on the beams that stretched out on the dusty road ahead of them. He felt a heat spread under the t-shirt and webbing, and up the back of his neck. ‘Smithy is an arse.’

  She laughed out loud again. It was a glorious sound. ‘So, you’re a Josey Wales fan?’ Gibbs asked.

  ‘I love old Westerns. Rebus has over two hundred DVDs of hero-type movies. He loved Josey Wales because he also collects people along the way and saves them from harm.’

  ‘I remember it vaguely. A long time ago,’ he said. ‘What’s even better is you think I’m like Rebus?’

  Her eyes widened, and she struggled to get a sound out. ‘No. Wait?’

  He laughed. ‘Too easy, Karen.’

  She leaned across and punched him. ‘Bloody idiot. You’re nothing like that animal. I can see it in the way that you love and protect your son.’

  Gibbs felt the sweats return. He looked at her and frowned.

  ‘Come on, Gibbs. Anyone with half a brain can see the resemblance, and how you watch over him like a father.’

  ‘I try to keep it a secret. For his protection.’

  ‘It’ll fool most of the idiots left out in the world. You should be proud of the way you’ve raised him.’

  ‘Thanks. It’s nice to hear someone say that. I only hope we can all get this matter with Rebus done and dusted, then disappear to South America.’

  ‘Would be nice to live somewhere that isn’t so hot and dry. Rebus had boys from South America once. They told stories of living in a big jungle where they had rain every week.’

  ‘That’s the destination we want to get to. I’ll probably drop you all off at Constance, so we can go and finish off this thing off.’

  Karen sat back in the chair and folded her brown legs underneath her. ‘That will only end in death, Gibbs. He has a lot of men and contacts in the NAG.’

  ‘We’re killing as many of his gang members as we can to starve him of support. That’s why Smithy and Stuart always disable the vans we do battle with. That way they cannot be used again unless they are towed back and seen to by a mechanic.’

  ‘Revenge won’t bring Maddy back, Gibbs. Stuart told me about her. Clearly, her death affected you all, but in case you haven’t noticed, he is smitten with Grace now, and she with him.’

  ‘I’ve noticed. I’m not a complete idiot.’

  ‘I’m just saying that Stuart seems to have let go. You and Smithy need to do that too.’

  ‘Don’t bloody bring me into this,’ Smithy’s voice came from the back of the truck.

  ‘If you can listen in on people’s conversations, you’re wide awake enough to make coffee,’ Karen said.

  Gibbs laughed out loud. ‘You heard the lady. Get to it.’

  • • •

  Wind buffeted Enyo’s head feathers across her face as the van sped along the dusty road. Reaching up, she pressed them back beneath the roof of the van. A quick countersteer with her left hand kept them from disappearing down one of the culverts that ran along the side of the road. Flash storms that hit the area once a year caused mass soil erosion and dangerous corrugations across the roads.

  ‘Steady on, my princess,’ Rebus said, sitting next to her. ‘We want to arrive in a state that will allow us to do battle.’

  Enyo nodded and looked in the rearview mirror. The three painted faces of Rebus’s bodyguards looked back at her. ‘We’re taking a risk, bringing the entire force down here to chase him.’

  ‘There’s a lot of money to be made from getting him. His reputation seems to have grown now that everyone knows the Bounty Hunter and NAG are after him.’

  ‘Are we sure that they are heading back this way? Sources say that they are heading south to Mexico.’

  ‘This may be true, beautiful,’ Rebus said, taking an M4 from one of the men behind him. ‘Our spies say he has doubled back towards us. I had hoped that he wanted to meet me in battle, but it seems that he is making for that enclave called Constance.’

  ‘Are we going to wait for them there? We don’t have its exact location.’

  ‘Ah, my dear. While you were getting ready, I got a tip-off from a loyal slave trader who gave me the exact location.’

  ‘Do we know anything about the enclave? If they let the Hooded Man in, he could do some serious like the last time.’

  ‘Best we get there and make sure that that doesn’t happen.’

  • • •

  ‘I don’t care who you think you report to, captain. The reality is that you all report to me or Chancellor Byrdich. Hasn’t that sunk in yet?’

  Captain Alonso swapped the phone to the other ear as he walked a few steps from his van. He glanced back to his men who were preparing lunch from military ration packs kept in their backpacks. They’d stopped along the side of an abandoned motorway, with visibility for miles either way. His eyes darted from van to van. There he was, always watching. The new arrival. The Russian.

  ‘Captain? Can you hear me?’

  ‘Yes, Chancellor Rolin.’

  ‘Acknowledge me when I’m talking to you. It’s called good manners.’

  ‘Yes, sir. It’s was just a little difficult with everyone listening in.’

  ‘Can you speak freely now?’

  ‘Go ahead, sir.’

  ‘You are to only take orders from myself or Chancellor Byrdich. No one else in the NAG or NEG.’

  ‘I understand, sir. What about the Bounty Hunter? I’ve been told to take orders from him.’

  ‘That pretence must continue. They cannot know that you’re in discussion with us directly.’

  ‘Copy that, sir,’ Captain Alonso said, walking off the main road towards a dense thicket of dead bushes. Everything was dead in this part of the world, not like in the Floodzone on the coast. He turned to look back at the vans. No one was within earshot. ‘What are my orders, sir?’

  ‘Michael and I need to know what Andrei Kirilenko has in his possession. It’s vital to understand what he has on his person, and why he’s so eager to meet up with Gibbs.’

  ‘I have already had a look through the warlord’s possessions on request from the NAG Chancellor. The Russian is trusting of everyone here. It was easy to rummage through his stuff.’

  ‘He’s a cagey Russian who doesn’t trust anyone. If he’s leaving his bags lying around, then he has nothing of value in them.’

  ‘Sir, he does have a small rectangular, leather pouch that I’ve seen him looking at. It’s filled with documents and a small book he writes in.’

  ‘You could have led with that, you idiot. That pouch must contain information that he wants to give to Gibbs which explains why he’s travelled all that way. I want that pouch.’

  ‘But it is always in his jacket, and he sleeps in that.’

  ‘Captain, your job is to steal that pouch and return it personally to Chancellor Byrdich.’

  ‘But it will be impossible to get to.’

  ‘Find a way, captain, or you’ll go back to living in the Floodzone. Do you want that for your family?’

  ‘No, sir. I’ll try to get it.’

  ‘You have to succeed, captain. Whatever he has in his possession cannot fall into Gibbs’s hands. It’s a matter of national security, and for the safety of our planet.’

  Captain Alonso felt his chest swell. He straightened up and nodded. ‘I’ll ge
t it from him even if it is from his dead hands.’

  ‘I admire your zeal, but you cannot simply kill a NEG warlord, as much I would love you to.’

  ‘He is always talking to the Bounty Hunter, so I don’t see another way.’

  ‘Find one and get it done. Make sure the pouch stays unopened. You will be briefed on its contents once you have handed them over. Obviously, you will be handsomely rewarded for this. You will not have to ever work again,’ the chancellor said, then hung up.

  Captain Alonso looked at the phone for a few moments and placed it back in a pocket on his webbing. Looking ahead of him, he saw just desert and dust, a wasteland he had no interest in returning to.

  ‘Still making clandestine calls, captain?’ a voice said from behind him. He jumped with fright and reached for his sidearm.

  ‘Still creeping around spying on people, Russian?’

  ‘I knew a man once who crept around my offices in Moscow, always making phone calls in corners and dark places. I had him executed as a traitor. Are you a traitor to that NAG uniform, captain?’

  ‘Mind your words, warlord. This is urgent NAG business. Nothing to do with you New Europeans. Don’t go sticking your nose into places where it could get it cut off.’

  Andrei smiled at him and lit another cigarette. ‘Threats? I do love threats. Adds spice to the flavour of the operation.’

  • • •

  ‘Sitting here isn’t going to get us through those big front gates,’ Smithy said.

  Gibbs rested his chin on his arms which were draped over the large steering wheel. He chewed his lip as he looked down the road to the main gates of Constance. Two large black metal gates were bookended with two tall towers. No doubt reinforced steel gates with horizontal beams to shore them up. A twelve-foot wall extended away from the towers and disappeared behind the old apartment blocks that towered over them. The residents had used the surrounding cityscape to create the enclave, placing men and women with machine guns along the walls and in the deserted apartment blocks.

  ‘I’m guessing there are snipers in those three apartment blocks that form part of the wall?’ Gibbs said, sitting upright again.

  ‘We used to have young teenagers who were taught to shoot with the snipers’ rifles we collected. They’ll be dotted all over, with a second younger child who helps load rifles and run messages. They all have climbing harnesses on and can abseil down within the interior of the building if they need to evacuate,’ Martin said, sipping on a metal water bottle.