by Jay Aspen
And both were under direct orders from the Avarit faction that controlled the government, channelling their profits directly back to the faction members.
An hour later Parry was walking back to the small park he’d used earlier to call Raine, through almost-deserted streets waiting for the twelve-hourly eruption of workers at shift-changeover. The park lay between the central core of five-storey city blocks and the broad outer ring of cramped housing for the workforce; ranks of ten-storey wedge-shaped apartment blocks, their solar cladding grey under the rainclouds.
The park itself was little more than a square of cracked paving and heavy concrete benches. One bench was a Resistance hotspot, an access point into the fragmented remains of the old analogue system. The hidden socket was concealed behind one of its bulky supports.
Parry knew further damage to his career would be the least of his worries if Burton discovered he’d contacted an outlaw on a clandestine coms network. Still, the place had no camera surveillance and he needed that if this meeting was going to pass unnoticed.
A young research analyst named Joe Hilman was perched on the other end of the stone slab, unruly strands of fair hair stirring in the damp breeze coming off the river. Joe watched Parry’s approach apprehensively through his heavy glasses, pressing his hands on his knees in a failed attempt to stop them shaking with nervous tension.
‘Colonel? I know you said it was urgent, but I had to fake that I was coming down with that virus to get time off to meet you. Why a second opinion? And why me? I can access the data but I’m a food chemist, not a pathologist.’
Parry gave an apologetic shrug, hoping to reassure someone he’d not seen since Jess’ funeral six years ago. He fought back the urge to tell Joe he’d faked his daughter’s death. The truth would do nothing to reduce the risk he was asking the young chemist to take and it would only add to the danger for Jess. If she was in fact still alive.
‘Joe, it’s just that I’ve felt uneasy about mysterious deaths since Jess... I can’t explain, but can you do it?’
Joe didn’t answer for a moment, looking warily at him. ‘I never thought you’d bend from the establishment line. This is more like Jess than her dad. An unauthorized re-examination of a military target.’
Parry stared at the ground, not wanting to ask again, hating himself for playing the emotions of one of his daughter’s friends. After a long pause Joe held out his hand.
‘I’ll do it. Just this once. For Jess.’
‘Thanks. Here’s the list of questions I’d like answered.’ Parry handed him a slip of paper.
Joe glanced at it and his eyes widened in alarm. He stuffed it in his pocket and walked out into the street.
*
Raine checked his handset for hazard updates from the city hive, then navigated the slalom course through the Tarn’s office detritus to the rough gravel driveway outside the greystone farmhouse.
Fin was packing a heavily loaded jeep with medical supplies, apparently oblivious to the persistent drizzle still spitting in windswept bursts across the moorland. Even with reinforced suspension the back of the vehicle was sagging as she rammed boxes and bags inside.
Raine guessed that offering assistance to defeat the virus had given the elderly medic the opportunity she’d been waiting for, to re-stock the city clinics with herbal tinctures unavailable inside the heavily-guarded perimeter fence.
Fin heard the crunch of his footsteps and looked up, pushing wet tendrils of greying hair out of her eyes.
‘Ah. Raine. We’re nearly done. Might as well update the general supplies––we don’t have much to help with a virus beyond these new neuropulse devices. How the tech team managed to find time to build even this number in all the upheaval of the evac...’ She pushed three electronic immune-stimulants into the glove box. ‘So, how do we get through the city perimeter?’
‘Use the western checkpoint, guides will meet you, take you to the safe house.’
‘You said I’d be pilot. Who’s the guide?’
‘Should be Razz, but be prepared for last minute changes. The roads have got worse since you last drove that route. It could take you six hours and a lot can change in that time––apparently it’s still volatile down there with enforcer patrols trying to intercept people they assume are coming into the city from the Warren.’
Fin hesitated. ‘Raine, I want to take Bel with me. She needs to keep her mind on... other things for a while.’
‘Sure. You’re the expert. But you’re in command till you get there and hand over to the volunteers at the free-clinic. Bel needs a break.’
Fin’s hesitation shifted rapidly back to her usual autocratic manner. ‘I would expressly forbid you to ask her to lead again so soon after what happened with Greg. Medic’s orders.’
Raine hoped he wasn’t making another decision that would turn out badly. ‘I haven’t told the city team that Greg was killed in the attack. I thought it better if you did it in person. If anyone can sense how and when to break it to Kit while he’s dealing with so much responsibility... with Greg being his closest friend. I’ll trust your judgement on that.’
Bel came out of the house hefting a heavy hemp bag onto her shoulder with the athletic ease that came from years of physical training.
‘That’s the last of the tincture bottles.’ She pushed the bundle into the remaining space at the back of the driver’s seat and slid behind the wheel.
Raine noticed how she studiously avoided eye contact as if she sensed his concern yet was still determined not to talk about the reason for it. Oddly, the only hopeful signs he noticed were the two tiny strands of blue silk still braided into her cropped brown hair. He’d not understood her little rebellion against the rangers’ dark-camouflage discipline when she’d first started training but now he found it reassuring, as if that mischievous, fearless, fun-loving spark was still alive, hidden deep inside her under the weight of guilt and loss.
He watched as she turned the jeep onto the rough track leading to the road. Fin was right. Bel needed work and action to find some distance from the memories haunting her, but the city was becoming more dangerous and unpredictable than it had ever been.
As she drove away he felt that familiar sense of unease that too often in the past had proved justified.
4
Jac followed Razz as he guided her and Kit through the grimy back streets of the city, avoiding the roads most likely to be patrolled by enforcers. Their luck ran out when two heavily-armed guards appeared ahead of them. Razz hastily doubled back and turned into a narrow side alley, signalling them to hurry.
‘Jac, Kit, stay out of sight. Last two days in the week we try not to go outside too much. Damn staz patrols trying to complete their quota...’
Jac didn’t find out what quota they had to collect or how much of it, because the two guards had followed them to the far end of the alley, dark silhouettes against the unrelenting grey concrete walls.
‘Stinking predators,’ hissed Razz, pulling her back a few paces into the cover of a vehicle entrance. He climbed onto a pile of crates until he could swing across to the fire escape hanging next to them, then powered up the iron rungs like a spider.
Jac found herself suddenly lifted above Kit’s head and pushed against the lowest rung. She grabbed it, thanking the stars for Kit’s insistence on daily routines of gruelling fitness training as she scrambled up the vertical ladder to follow Razz onto the roof. He pushed her away from the edge, peering down into the street to check on the patrol.
‘They saw us. Maybe they won’t bother following... Hells! Looks like they will.’
Kit heaved himself over the edge just as an excited yell and the sound of running feet came from below. Razz pointed east towards the city perimeter where the streets descended to the wide grey sweep of the estuary.
‘This sector is all workshops and factories. Five floors high, flat roofs. I’ve a few routes across but the fastest one uses the hill slope to jump between buildings. City-tigers use it when w
e need to throw off pursuit ‘cause we’re fitter and stronger than these corrupt patrols.’ He looked anxiously at Jac. She stood almost a foot shorter than both men.
She took a deep breath. ‘How big is the gap?’
‘About twenty feet. We only cross back alleys.’
Jac scanned the flat roof ahead, wishing she could see more of the next building but it was out of sight down the slope. She made a snap decision.
‘I’ll make it. Go.’ She followed the others in a sprint across the roof, adrenaline surging as realism kicked in.
Have I panicked into overestimating what I can do?
She could hear the muffled shouts behind as the two enforcers struggled to climb the vertical hanging ladder. The spot between her shoulders was prickling with fear that they had already made it onto the roof. She fought the urge to turn round and check, knowing it would wreck her speed and rhythm and she’d need every ounce of both to make it across.
The next building was lower on the incline and wouldn’t be visible till the last moment, so she kept re-calibrating the number of paces to the edge as she got closer. Her steps had to fit perfectly so her foot would land on the exact top of the wall and use the speed of her run to carry her across.
Kit and Razz were a few paces ahead, feet pounding on the unyielding concrete. Jac watched the angle as they jumped, desperately hoping that advance knowledge would give her just enough advantage to compensate for her shorter stride...
She reached the edge and leaped into space. The gulf of air between the buildings seemed enormous and the void beneath her feet yawned, ready to swallow her up, splintering bones on the road below.
The fluttering in her stomach was telling her that without the drop to the next roof she would crash to her death. Her foot just made the edge of the concrete wall and she would have slipped but for Razz and Kit grabbing an arm each and pulling her forwards. She pitched onto her knees, gasping the question burning in her mind.
‘Are they all like that?’
‘Two more the same and then the last one’s a bit further––’
Razz shoved her violently to the ground as a burst of automatic fire raked the flat surface of the roof and a grunt of pain told her Kit hadn’t escaped. She turned back to see him crawling towards her, leaving a wet trail of blood on the rough concrete behind him. Then Razz was beside her, helping her drag the heavy ranger behind the top of the covered stairwell to the interior.
There was no other shelter. Their pursuers were advancing across the roof of the first building. And blood was oozing thick and red between Kit’s fingers as he clutched at the wound on his leg. Jac was already cursing her overconfidence as she reached into her pack for the meagre bandage that was all she’d brought with her from the med kit.
How in all the hells do we get him out of here if he can’t run?
‘I’ll sort it.’ Kit grabbed the roll of crepe from her. ‘Nothing broken.’ He tightened it around his thigh, wincing at the increased pressure. Jac edged closer to Razz as more bullets whined and cracked against the walls of the stairwell. She tried the door, but wasn’t surprised to find it locked from the inside.
‘Razz? Surely they can’t know who we are already? Why are they trying to kill us?’
‘They’re not. Or we’d be dead. They shot at our legs, trying to disable us.’ Razz was peering round the edge of the concrete, trying to create a distraction by lobbing odd bits of rubble across the roof to draw fire. ‘Like I said, end of the week, they’re hungry for quota. Civil forfeiture––any large amount of credits on your sefet-card and they’ll conveniently assume it’s from illegal sources and confiscate it. They got my brother for it a few hours ago. Helped themselves to everything our team had contributed for tomorrow’s mortgage payment.’
He heaved a rusty can that had been used as an ashtray out into the line of fire and winced as it clanged and bounced, riddled with bullet holes. ‘If they were allowed to grab sefet-balances from corpses they’d just shot, there’d be no workers left in the city...’
He broke into a string of muttered expletives as one of the guards started backing up, eying the distance with obvious intent.
Jac felt her muscles going rigid with fear. ‘Razz! Surely he’s not going to try it? I thought they’d be calling for backup?’
‘And share the spoils? Hardly likely now they’ve got us trapped. If he makes it across we’ll be left here with shattered legs––and if we don’t bleed to death first there’ll be a warrant out for our arrest soon as they find out who we are.’ Razz pulled a throwing knife from his wrist bracer, eyeing the twenty-foot gap with a practised aim. ‘I was really hoping it wouldn’t come to this.’
It didn’t. A pair of heavy boots hit the wall well below the edge and a panicked hand grabbed at the rough concrete before sliding off. A scream came from mid-air, followed by a dull thud as a heavy body hit the ground. Deathly silence engulfed the rooftop for an instant before the surviving enforcer let off a string of curses, shouldered his automatic and pulled out his handset.
‘Backup is something we really don’t need,’ muttered Razz, taking advantage of the absence of flying bullets to move out from behind the wall and flick the knife across the alley with a speed and accuracy that defied logic. There was a howl from the other side of the gap as two bloody fingers and a handset fell to the man’s feet. The handset skittered towards the edge of the roof and the guard tried to grab at it while still clutching at his mangled hand.
The mistake proved fatal. Trying to do two things at once combined with shock and hands slippery with blood was too much. He slipped and fell into the street near the first body.
‘Kit, can you climb?’ Razz dragged the wounded ranger to his feet. ‘I have to get my knife back so they don’t find my DNA. It could link to my brother. He’s still legally registered.’
Kit wiped bloody hands on his jacket. ‘Sure. Lead.’
Razz sprinted to the fire escape on the far side of the building and dropped out of sight. Jac followed, scrabbling at the bottom for something to give a foothold for the last section. Razz was already on the ground.
‘Drop. I’ll spot you.’
Wondering how he’d managed it without help, she let go. Strong hands grabbed the small of her back and broke her fall just enough for her to roll and scramble to her feet without damaging legs or ankles.
‘Kit’s heavier. Watch for his head in case he lands badly,’ was all Razz said as he tracked the approaching shadow above them.
The force of Kit’s fall knocked her over but her body managed to stop his head hitting the ground at the cost of a few more bruises. Razz lead them round the block to the street where the guards had fallen and grabbed his knife from the pool of blood.
Jac couldn’t help glancing at the two corpses as she passed, wondering if this sort of accident was commonplace and whether it would stir up emergency patrols. No time to think about it now. Razz was setting a demanding pace through the back streets as the wail of sirens cut the air.
‘Looks like he got a connection before I knocked the thing out of his hand.’ Razz glanced behind and changed direction. ‘If we can just get another couple of blocks it should serve as a distraction instead of bringing them down on top of us. We’re not far from the east side clinic now.’
They made it to a narrow alley on the edge of the industrial zone. Razz pushed through a jagged tear in the wire fence and approached the back window of a run-down five-storey building. He knocked softly in a complicated pattern Jac guessed must be a signal, because the battered door a few feet away opened and they scrambled over a pile of rubbish into a dimly-lit garage.
In spite of its grubby appearance the place smelled strongly of disinfectant. A flash of frizzy sandy hair in the dim light and Jac recognized who had let them in.
‘Lizzie!’
‘Hey, Jac! What are you doing here? We heard you were heading out, back to the Tarn?’
‘Kit’s been shot.’ Jac pushed their casualty forward. He wa
s trying not to limp and failing dismally.
‘Ugh. Bad luck. This way.’ Lizzie shooed them through a side door into a large, bright room. It was a sterile contrast to the garage with light shining through obscured-glass windows onto rows of folding beds spaced along each wall. All the beds were occupied and medic volunteers were stepping hurriedly between patients laid out on the floor. Shelves of bottles and bags lined the walls and the smell of disinfectant mixed with the cloying stink of blood and vomit. Dealing with the epidemic while still setting up a new emergency clinic wasn’t making things easy for Lizzie’s crew.
Jac pushed Kit into a relatively quiet corner and cut away the bloodstained bandage and clothing to reveal a bloody gash along the outside of his thigh. He peered at the damage with a resigned grunt.
‘It only grazed the outside. Thought so. Shouldn’t be a problem.’
It looked more than a mere graze to Jac but she didn’t comment, scanning the shelves for swabs and alcohol.
Lizzie reappeared at her side, clutching a med kit. ‘Razz caught me up with what’s happening, wants me to go with him to the checkpoint. I’ll help get this supply shipment through that Raine sent. You go get scrubbed, clean clothes, then we need you to help out while this clinic set-up’s driving us crazy.’
She held out two handsets, one a silver legal, the other a dull black unregistered. ‘Here, you can use the clinic’s spare silver for monitoring the TV broadcasts and at the same time, try checking through my encrypted message log on the unregistered, see if anything matches. I’ll find someone to fix this bit of damage. It needs stitching right away.’ She wedged her shoulder under Kit’s arm. ‘On your feet, soldier. There’s another side room we use for injuries, away from the plague ward.’ She heaved him unceremoniously off the floor.
Jac grabbed both handsets and headed for the staff door, wondering if she’d learn anything useful from the next news item and if she’d get any spare time from watching to put her medic skills to some use. She scanned through Lizzie’s decrypted text messages but only one caught her eye.