Neon Sands Trilogy Boxset: The Neon Series Season One

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Neon Sands Trilogy Boxset: The Neon Series Season One Page 50

by Adam J. Smith


  She felt for them. It was probably the first time in their adult lives that their wrist modules had stared unblinkingly back.

  “Carry on,” she said, walking forward. They parted, and out went the lights.

  First the link. Now the lights. Her brow furrowed.

  After a few seconds of silence came the rising tide. No single scream, but every raised voice and shout together coruscated into something almost deafening, and she couldn’t very well see the panic, but she could hear the scuffle of feet on floor and hands reaching for hands and grabbing air or shoulders or errant backs turned, turning; a mass of shuffling in a storm.

  Caia counted down slowly from ten with a deep breath between each one. She was thankful to still be standing near the now-disguised exit, and not within the mayhem.

  And then slowly, light returned. Backup generators kicking into action. But the light was barely twenty-percent of its previous power, and this seemed to frighten everyone more. Not merely a temporary blackout, but something catastrophic.

  A young man in a narrow-breasted silver suit approached her, dark bangs uncoiling from his brow. Such fear in his eyes. “You’re not here to make us disappear, are you? I have a family. I’ve been good. What’s going on? Why are the lights out and the link down?”

  Before she could answer, there was a scream, high and shrill. “They’ve stopped!” shouted another voice, this one deep and masculine. “The escalators have stopped!”

  Caia stood, bewildered and trying not to laugh, and meanwhile the man with the questions turned away from her and headed towards the nearest escalator. They gathered around the bases, looking up, while the stranded hurried down. Inevitable chaos formed at floor level as two forces merged, with people pushing and jostling each other out of the way to get a better look. At what? thought Caia. Something stops working and you all lose your mind?

  “I can’t stay here. I can’t stay here,” she heard someone repeat; a mantra that sounded both sad and desperate.

  She heard someone else say; “How do we get back up?” and she shook her head. Idiots. She left them to it and turned for an exit to the lobby on her far left, the path pleasingly clear as the throng huddled together; for support, for warmth, for who knows what?

  That’s when she smelled the smoke. It smelled amazing, actually, like Sanctum after harvest when they butchered and spit-roasted a couple of pigs. That smell lingered for days. Linwood used to say he’d ‘forget’ to recycle the air – “Oops,” he’d wink – but that was years ago before he lost his sense of humour to drink. What little he had to begin with.

  “Do you smell that?” a woman asked. In the din it was difficult to differentiate individuals from the mass. “Hey, look up there!”

  And that was when the screaming began.

  And the running.

  She glanced towards where a hand had pointed and saw smoke filtering in through the ventilation shaft.

  “They’re trying to poison us!”

  Someone, perhaps that same person with the deep voice, ordered with authority; “EVERYBODY! OUT! NOW!”

  Caia halted and turned sideways so those rushing past wouldn’t knock her over. They’d forgotten all about her and who she was; knocking over an agent of the authority didn’t seem to be on their minds as they ran for their lives. Arms brushed her and shoulders barged her but she kept her ground, and after ten, fifteen seconds, it was all over anyway.

  Like a passing trainlink, they swooped by and now their agitated voices could only be heard in the distance, echoing back from long corridors. Quiet. Quieter. So quiet her ears rang. She considered how Negative One had probably never been so quiet since the day it was built. The termini to highground were always busy. Even when they performed maintenance on the escalators it was always one at a time.

  Corbin Wardle’s words returned to her: “Lowcases. Highgrounds. I’m sure even some of those in the ring: we’re all just cattle, and we can be herded at any time.” Funny how, when she’d been forced to listen to his speech, he had reminded her so much of Kirillion. Funny how everything he said had made so much sense.

  She was in a hurry but couldn’t help and stop to admire the empty space, now so eerie; the smoke dropping like a mist and dampening the yellow and orange emergency lighting even darker, so that the edge of walls could not be seen. The escalators themselves turned into silhouettes, and then into one flat image without depth; tic-tac-toe boards marked only with Xs.

  She thought of Rylan, all those floors below, frantically escaping the chaos he had caused – for who else could it be? Hopefully he had escape on his mind, anyway, and had a plan for after, so she’d be able to thank him.

  ***

  First the lights went out, and Elissa thought they would be spending the night in total darkness listening to each other’s breathing, and then they returned, only dimmed.

  “I thought that was light’s out,” said Calix. His face looked deep from lack of sleep and light, his skull wholly apparent. She had to look away and found the edges of darkness comforting. She was tired. She wished the light had gone out. Then she could forget they were hiding out in a bathroom.

  “Let’s just get some sleep and see what the story is in a few hours. We can’t oversleep, okay?”

  “I think that’ll be easier said than done.” Calix gave her a smile that said he understood and was just joking, and patted the rucksack beneath his head. “The pits were more comfortable.”

  “I don’t know about that.” But they had been warmer. Her feet felt like ice in her boots. It was like being out on the plains at night.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “A little chilly.” She breathed and a small plume of air escaped, and in that hung the unsaid. She waited it out until the moment had passed and neither of them had suggested huddling for warmth, and then closed her eyes.

  As soon as she did there came sounds from the other side of the locked door; hurrying feet and even loud, alarmed voices. The voices grew until it sounded as though a huge crowd swarmed in the corridor outside, and she sat up, sharp, suddenly awake. She could feel the adrenaline in her gut.

  “Shit,” said Calix.

  “That don’t sound good.”

  “You think someone’s coming for us? They found us?”

  “Let’s just stay quiet.” Her heart hammered. Eyes locked with Calix. They looked as scared as she felt, and neither of them blinked.

  Through the thickness of wall the rushing feet thudded, thudded. “Sounds like the tracks of the sand crawlers,” whispered Calix.

  She frowned, piercing her eyes to silence him.

  Eventually, the footsteps receded, along with Elissa’s heart rate. She stood and walked over to the door, then spread her fingers on the surface. She didn’t really get what she was doing; perhaps hoping to feel the vibrations of the crowd as they faded, or perhaps absorb some residual warmth. She put her ear to the surface, and it was then the knock came; rap-rap-rap in quick succession.

  She yelped, throwing her hand to her mouth and jumping from the door. She heard Calix shuffle to his feet behind her. She bit her lip and held her breath and felt every inch of her core swell with blood, and her bladder suddenly fill, so she had to hold it in.

  Calix grabbed her elbow and pulled her away. She stepped on his toe and there was another knock, followed by the turn of the handle. It stuck at half-way and jostled in place, resistant.

  This ruptured Elissa’s fear and she turned quickly, reaching down for her bag, and Calix followed suit. Please be quiet. Please be quiet. Rucksack on back, she stepped towards the toilet cubicles and entered one, standing on the toilet seat. She listened as Calix did the same.

  “You going to open up or am I going to have to pick this lock open?” said a female voice. Elissa clamped a hand over her mouth.

  Why? They’ve got you.

  Calix’s back appeared in front of her. He was staring at the door. A clicking sound echoed through the piercing silence, and she had the strangest idea to si
t down and relieve herself. Could I get a little privacy, please?

  Click.

  Calix raised his palm to her and then put his finger to his lips. He looked so calm. The sound of the door handle turning echoed into the piercing silence, and Calix stepped forward, out of sight. The last she saw of him was his hand as it clutched the edge of the stall, and she swallowed, wondering if that would be the last time she’d ever see him. She resisted the urge to call out to him.

  She listened to the heavy door swinging open. The silence then seemed to stretch for a millennia before a voice said “Knock, knock.”

  Calix said, sounding confused; “Caia?”

  Enemies

  “We have to go,” she said.

  “Go? Are you fucking insane? You’re the reason I’m here! I should kill you!” He could feel the blood boiling to his cheeks and face; feel the heat of his anger as it rooted him, in disbelief, to the spot. Two big steps and he’d be in her face. One big swing and she’d be on the floor. He remained rooted, knowing that if he did move towards her, that would be it. It would be impossible to stop the momentum of his anger in full motion.

  A million miles to his left Elissa said “Cal?” Oh so very far away. He felt that connection lengthening; he was a kite and she held the handle. Just one step…

  “Cal?” He felt a hand on his shoulder and snapped back to himself. It was the lightest of touches but enough for him to resist charging at Caia.

  “We can argue all you want later,” she said, “but we need to get gone while we have the chance.”

  “Right. Just how stupid do you think I am? Where’s Annora? How is she?”

  Caia stepped fully into the bathroom and held the door wide, standing aside. “She’s fine. She’s fixed. Ask me questions later. Come on!”

  Calix’s eyesight blurred; Caia became a smudge in the darkness, dressed all in black with her hair still quite short, but longer than she had it on the sands. The longer he stared, the more blurred she became. Wiping his eyes did nothing.

  “What’s that?” he heard Elissa say. He turned to where she was pointing and saw that there was some kind of vapour coming from the vent, and he could smell it now too.

  “Are you poisoning us?” said Calix, finally uprooting. He closed the gap between them and reached to grab Caia by the collar. Before he could, she raised a gun to his chest. He stared at the darkness at the end of the barrel. Such a small thing, overall – a gun. It lanced his chest and stopped his heart dead.

  Or so it felt.

  All this way for nothing.

  “Wait,” he shouted, raising his hand and halting. Caia took a step backwards. He’d been ready to lunge, to die so long as he could get his hands on this bitch. Except… “Is that true? Is Annora okay?”

  “Yes,” said Caia, sounding exasperated.

  “Then shoot me if you must, just tell her I love her.”

  “I don’t want to shoot you, you fool. Listen to what I’m saying!” Out in the corridor now, even further in shadow, she looked both ways. “We don’t have much time. To stand any chance of seeing her again you’re going to have to trust me.”

  “Who is she?” asked Elissa, now standing beside him.

  “She’s the one who kidnapped Ann.”

  “Oh, that Caia.”

  “Yes, that Caia. Now are you going to follow me or not?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She lowered the gun and disappeared from sight.

  Elissa stepped forward, shucking her backpack over her shoulders, and peered around the corner. “If she was going to shoot us, she’d have done it already.”

  “You don’t know her. She deceived us our entire life.”

  “That may be, but I don’t see what choice we have right now. Way I see it; this might be the best thing that could’ve happened. I mean: Caia of all people. She’s your pathway to Annora.”

  “I don’t like this. How did she know where we were? How long has she been watching us? Why now, just as we’re about to maybe find a way up?”

  “Like she says, these are all questions you can ask her later.” She peered around into the corridor again. “She’s waiting.”

  “Damnit.” He grabbed his things and rushed from the room, calling out to Caia, “If I find out Annora’s dead: you’re dead. I don’t care what happens to me.”

  “Yeah, yeah, big guy,” said Caia, spinning around. “Follow me.”

  “Where are we going?” asked Elissa.

  “Away from here.”

  “Where is everyone? What’s with all the smoke?”

  “We had a little help from... a friend.” Caia began to jog. “No more talking.”

  They jogged to keep up with her; everything that Calix had been feeling ten minutes ago: tiredness, thirst, hunger, nervousness; that was now all gone. Instead he was pure animal, instinct taken over. Survival on his mind – but not his survival. The more that time passed, the greater his fear had become that not only would he not see Annora again, but that she’d be dead. That they’d taken whatever it was they wanted from her and disposed of her. Caia may be a lying sack of shit, but to have those hopes raised again felt like a wind beneath invisible wings.

  Opening out into the enormous lobby, the darkness obvious because of the contrast to earlier; stranger were the swirling hoops swooping down from high above. An illusion or real, he couldn’t tell; yet it felt like he could reach up and sweep a hand through the underside, as if rubbing an animal’s belly.

  Yep, definitely getting lower, he thought, as they ducked ever lower as they ran. It was just smoke though, surely – Caia would’ve warned them if it was anything dangerous. Smelled like meat and laundry. By the time they reached the escalator they needed, it had enveloped them completely, and he reached out to grab Elissa’s hand.

  “Up this way,” said Caia, sounding like a whisper in a mist. He could see her outline stop, turn to look, and then begin to ascend. She was quick, almost vanishing completely before he took his next step up and she came into view again.

  Too much adrenaline coursed through him to feel tired. Each step up gave him strength – he drew from his experience climbing the sand and felt a momentary sense of the uncanny as he ascended; the steps were high, meant for automatic movement, and his whole journey so far had been one giant leap after another. He’d climbed to the sun before, and he was doing the same now.

  Elissa squeezed his hand, tighter and tighter it felt. When they finally reached the end, she let go and he curled and uncurled his fingers.

  “Okay,” said Caia, huffing lightly. “In a minute we’ll be going through a checkpoint. You have to remain silent. As far as they’ll be concerned, you’re my prisoners.”

  “Are we, though?” muttered Calix.

  “Cal,” snapped Elissa. His brow furrowed as he searched her face, finding nothing.

  “I’d take your girlfriend’s lead,” said Caia. “Or should that be your bond?”

  Elissa walked purposefully between them. “You’re not helping. Which way?”

  He could just make out Caia’s smile through the haze. “I like her already, Cal.”

  The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and he realised he’d literally bit the inside of his cheek. He put his finger to the cut and drew it from his mouth, rubbing the blood between finger and thumb. Caia watched, nodded, and turned.

  “Stay behind me. Don’t talk. Keep your heads down.”

  They followed. The air now was thick and turning his throat into coarse hemp-paper, and it was like glass in the nose. “I’ll be glad for some fresh air.”

  “Sshhh.”

  He almost bit his cheek again.

  He trailed the two figures, the surroundings a complete mystery; not even the walls were visible. Every now and then they passed a piece of furniture; some ornate office bench, or a desk strewn with paperwork. He was surprised by the paper – they’d seen nothing but electronic devices and holo-displays since they’d arrived. Not counting the wanted poster. He kicked over a bin and crumpled pages
tumbled out and rolled across the floor for someone else to pick up. I did that. You’ll never know how it fell over. Never realise someone from outside who almost died of dehydration has now caused you a mess to pick up. He kicked one crumpled ball across the room and heard it stop somewhere past the wall of visibility.

  Just beyond Caia and Elissa he noticed the silhouette of a barrier of sorts emerge, grey and dull, and then realised they were turnstiles.

  “It’s through here – I can get us through here – and then we go up, and up there should be guards.”

  “How we going to get past them?”

  Caia stepped up to the turnstile and put her hand to the sensor. Nothing happened. “Idiot,” she said. “No power. Here, help me.” She pressed her body against the human-height rails and pushed. Elissa joined her and together they were able to push themselves through. He looked at them through the bars then stepped up and pushed. Elissa had to help pull from the other side, but finally the three of them were successfully one step closer to topside.

  He looked up, expecting to see light, but there was only more of the same sweeping darkness.

  Darkness

  Darkness was good. He could close off his mind to what he’d done and just drift. And the Synesty helped. If he drank enough maybe he would never wake up again. It was the only thing keeping his headache at bay, anyway. His whole body felt as numb as his mind.

  Every now and then he’d hear Misty on the other side of the door trying to reassure an irate friend, or simply a passerby. Funny how fear brought people together, he thought, and laughed at the idea of friendships forging because of his attack on the authority.

  Corbin hadn’t considered this. Left in a state of shock, people were forced to talk to each other, seek help from sources they would never have spoken to before. Knocked from their comfort zone, even if for just a short while, maybe it would open some minds and make them realise how reliant they were on their shows and sports.

  Probably not.

  Now, now, now, he could hear Misty say. That’s defeatist of you. This was never about hitting out at the authority; it was all about setting people free.

 

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