by Jay Aspen
The other two have stopped firing.
They don’t want to shoot this monster by accident, so they’ll be moving in with knives––
He senses the moment they arrive, tries to keep twisting and moving so they can’t find a way in. Then the white-hot pain of a knife slicing between his ribs.
That’s it. Fate isn’t on my side after all. Everything going dark around the edges...
Through the blurred images it isn’t clear what’s happening but the fight suddenly feels different. Raine pulling attackers off him and then Bel joins him.
Hands drag him clear and he sees Raine’s face, set in concentration as he tears off layers of cloth and works on the stab, Bel passing swabs and bandage. He hears her voice, Raine answering.
‘Extend signal range?’
‘Yes. Just get them here.’
They lift him onto a horse, Raine behind him, one arm firmly across his chest to stop him falling. They head into the dark forest. Fin meets them further up the track with Greg and full medical supplies. They make camp. Greg runs the hand scanner over Kit’s body and clothing.
‘All clear, no trackers.’
Fin eases him out of her way with a well-placed elbow. ‘Good, now give me some space to fix this.’
Greg grasps Kit’s arm, smiling encouragement. ‘Hang in there, we’ll get you to the Warren soon.’ His presence is warm, reassuring.
Kit drifts in and out of consciousness while Fin and Raine work on the stab.
I made it. I found the right people. That’s all that matters.
He can see blurred images of two women, hears Bel’s voice.
‘I think he’s coming round.’
The faces of Bel and Fin come into focus. Kit tries to sit up, gasps from the sharp pain in his chest.
‘They got me with a knife.’
Fin’s cool hands on his shoulders.
‘No, Kit. That was three years ago. What you’re feeling is a couple of broken ribs.’
‘How?’
‘You’ve been drifting for a few hours. Do you remember the bomb in the market?’
‘No.’
‘It might take a while. Bel, talk him through it a few times. I need to check on the others.’
14
Parry keyed the wall screen in his office with a growing sense of distaste and apprehension––mixed with intense relief that his career had stalled ten years ago. As part of his new promotion, Moris had given him access to the clandestine spy network of hidden cameras in the offices of both Burton and of Smith, Burton’s second in command.
Parry was now under instruction to install additional cameras focused on anyone else in the building deemed worthy of surveillance. The fact that up to now he had been considered an unimportant irrelevance was the only thing that had saved his own office from the same spy treatment––otherwise his recent episodes of checking the unregistered handset Raine had given him would have been transmitted directly to the president.
He knew Moris had told him of the surveillance as a warning that he would be constantly watched when he moved into Burton’s office later that day. He also knew Moris would be spying on him with other systems he hadn’t been told about. Uneasy thoughts about his future were pushed aside as the real-time conversation he was observing between Burton and Smith was growing tense.
Smith was watching his CO warily, trying to work in hints for a salary increase. Burton was ignoring them, seething with frustration at discovering how so many people had been moved away from the market in time.
‘I hope you edited those images I told you to send to the president.’ Burton’s bulky form was only partly in view, leaving Parry wondering if he knew about the surveillance and had worked out the blind spots.
Smith shifted awkwardly on his feet. His long face reminded Parry of a disgruntled horse, making it difficult to guess what the man was thinking––apart from his fairly evident agenda for personal advancement.
‘Sir. There wasn’t really enough there to edit, what with those smoke grenades taking a while to clear.’
That didn’t improve Burton’s foul mood. ‘The whole thing’s a mess. I don’t know how those vigilantes discovered what was happening but I’m damn well going to find out.’ He posted information from his archives onto the wall screen, sorting them into categories as he spoke.
‘The leak couldn’t have come from Lucas Tyrel because he knew nothing about the plan while he was undercover. I’m still trying to work out when he was turned––and what damage he might have done before I terminated him.’
Smith scanned the information, glancing cautiously at his superior and speaking slowly. ‘Everything he sent before our attack on the Warren checked out as genuine.’
Burton was still moving notes around the screen. ‘We can assume all messages he sent after that are false. Add in the half-destroyed memos we found there about the new base they’re setting up in the east marshes...’
He smiled with grim satisfaction. ‘East marshes. It all points that way.’ He keyed to a map of the salt marshes, waving his hand at the shoreline with its scattering of adjacent islands and absence of beaches. ‘It’s a huge area. The maps are virtually useless. Never seem to correspond with what’s on the ground. You’d think everything out there moved around every few months.’
Smith was back in acquisitive mode. ‘We’ll need amphibious transport. Most of our heavy equipment needs replacing.
Burton gave a disparaging grunt. ‘Forget it. That all disappeared in the cuts two years ago. Send every available unit to set up five bases spread across the edge of the marshes.’
‘What about the hunt in the city for people caught on the market camera?’
‘Keep a few patrols here for that. The rest go east. Get on with it.’ Burton dismissed Smith with a curt wave, already engrossed in the costs displaying across his screen.
Smith turned to walk out, bumping into two guards on their way in. They stopped, formally, just inside the door.
Burton’s voice took on an indignant whine as he struggled to comprehend what was being said and why anyone would dare enter his office without knocking. ‘What do you mean, I’m under arrest? What for?’
But Parry was watching Smith’s face as he followed the moves in this abrupt shift of power structure. As the guards snapped steel cuffs on Burton’s wrists Smith’s horse-like features revealed a satisfied determination to exploit every advantage he could find.
Parry knew that working with someone as ambitious as this was going to bring a whole new element of risk to his unexpected promotion.
*
Jac rubbed tired eyes as sunlight inched its way through the opaque window of the clinic. She had worked all night and through the morning without a break. Only a dozen trauma patients remained and of those only three were on the danger list. Her gaze came to rest on the bed at the far end of the room.
But what about Kit?
She caught Fin’s eye and held up the psi-neuropulse. ‘Time for another session?’
Fin’s anxiety showed through the exhaustion. ‘I hope it works. I can’t find any injuries apart from two broken ribs and concussion, but I hoped he’d have stopped drifting in and out of consciousness by now.’
Jac followed Fin to the far end of the ward. She knew they were both running through the grim possibilities of deeper head injury or internal damage––and the lack of a scanner to pinpoint them. There was no need to talk about it. They’d have to do their best with what they had.
Bel was sitting with Kit as she had done all night. Fin took her arm and moved her aside.
‘Bel, sleep. Medic’s orders. We may have to get out at short notice and you need to be alert.’
Bel seemed too dazed to argue. She curled up on the next bed and closed her eyes. Jac sat beside Kit and gave a quick wipe with disinfectant to the bipolar electrode on the psi, then listened to the reassuring buzz and whine as she switched on. Fin sat on the opposite side of Kit and they worked in unison, brushing the slend
er devices in long, slow, strokes down his shoulders and chest.
Jac had used the psi on plenty of patients back on her farm and seen for herself how effective it could be in stimulating the body’s natural healing response––but it was no replacement for advanced scanning equipment and major surgery.
‘Ten minutes, then a break, then another ten?’
Fin flexed stiff shoulders without breaking rhythm. ‘Sounds about right. Talk to me. Keep me awake.’
‘Oh. Sure.’ Tiredness made Jac’s mind go blank. ‘Um, tell me why you’re called Fin when your name’s Magdalene.’
‘That’s cheating! You’re making me do the talking.’ Fin almost managed to laugh. ‘But it’s okay.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Raine puts a lot of trust in the power of stories. There was a nurse who brought care and hygiene to the field hospitals of a terrible war back in history. And more soldiers survived.
‘That was care and hygiene, not a story!’
‘But then her patients started to believe if she just visited them they’d miraculously recover. And even more of them survived. Her name was Florence Nightingale.’
‘Oh. I see. F - N. Do people believe that about you?’
‘Not literally, but I think Raine wanted to put the idea there. The mind has enormous power to heal... or not.’ Fin glanced anxiously at Kit as she adjusted frequency of the psi-wave, then made an attempt to lighten the mood. ‘If it helped my patients recover, I’d let them believe I could fly––so long as they didn’t ask me to demonstrate!’
They both laughed. Jac found herself almost believing they’d seen everyone through this. Even Kit’s breathing seemed steadier. Maybe they’d finally get their respite from crises and things would go quiet enough for her to make it back to the Tarn. Maybe she and Raine could actually spend some time together without having to focus on survival...
Mirel arrived, back in her supplies-hauling role, the pink dress dusty and stained even though the smart shoes were still mysteriously immaculate. She dumped the box on a nearby table for Lizzie to unpack and walked over, her face asking the obvious question about Kit.
Jac sighed. ‘No change yet. What’s it like out on the street?’
Mirel pushed untidy blonde hair neatly back into its pink plastic clips. ‘I just came with the last transporter from the east side clinic. Looks like most of the patrols have been diverted to the market so it starts to get difficult in this central sector.’
She waved a hand towards the team of city-tigers bringing in more boxes from the adjacent garage. ‘Last load of stuff. Staz located the place and were about to raid us. By some miracle we got advance warning this time so no one got arrested––but we still lost half of what we had there. They burn everything they confiscate. They say it’s for hygiene.’
‘Don’t get me started...’ Lizzie clumped the empty box onto the floor.
Mirel managed to smile and make a face at Lizzie at the same time, pink lipstick sparkling in the patchy lighting. ‘I know. Avarit profits. They see us as competition. I’ve got all the lines now.’
Jac laughed. It felt good to be back with these two. Their constant spoof bickering always seemed to ease the tension. She looked round as Razz walked in, covered in dust and a bigger collection of scratches and bruises than when she had last seen him.
‘Let me clean those cuts.’ She passed the psi to Lizzie and reached for swabs and disinfectant. ‘Where have you been to get all this?’
‘Market to start with, before the enforcers were ordered back in to look for someone to pin the blame on.’ Razz flopped onto the floor, easing his bruised back against the bed in which Bel was sleeping. He put a hand to his head and winced as his fingers found the thick layer of dust in the tight curls of his hair. One patch of dust was mixed with congealed blood.
Jac removed his hand impatiently and peered at his scalp. ‘Is that blood yours?’
‘Ouch. Must be.’
‘What was the trouble this time?’
‘The delivery truck that got the back gate open attracted a lot of attention. Soon as the smoke and dust and casualties cleared, people were all over it looking for food. We had to drive it out to a derelict site before staz got back on the scene. Then we had to start a handout operation to stop fights breaking out.’ He held out both arms for Jac to work on. ‘That truck looks like a skeleton now, picked clean and well-scavenged. We got most of the stuff delivered to the food banks. Ouch.’ He made himself hold still as Jac’s alcohol swab found a couple of deep grazes on his forearm. ‘Did you hear from Luc and Karim yet?’
Jac gave him a puzzled look. ‘I wouldn’t expect to. You know there’s no analogue connection from the underground station.’
‘They are not in the station.’
‘What? They have to be! Burton can pick up Luc’s tracker above ground. Just because Raine managed to move it from his neck to his arm doesn’t mean it won’t still do a lot of damage if Burton activates it.’
Razz suddenly looked worried. ‘Beau went to warn them to stay down there but he got stopped and searched. Staz took their time grabbing his mortgage payment with their damn civil forfeiture and when he finally got into the station they’d already gone. He told me about it when we were getting our gear together for the market op––and then it was all clinic runs and food fights for the rest of the night. I’m sorry. We should have checked with you sooner.’
Jac looked round anxiously at Lizzie. ‘The hive would have told us if they’d made contact on the dark network, so that must mean they can’t get to a hotspot. I lent my registered to Karim so he could at least go outside and call your silver if the burns on Luc’s arm got infected.’
Lizzie took out her registered handset and searched for messages. ‘Oh, chaos, they did try to get through! It was so busy around that time I was only checking hotspot updates from the hive.’
‘Does it say where they’ve got to?’ Jac grabbed the offered silver, anxiously aware of how limited their coms could be while staying invisible to the city’s blanket surveillance.
‘No text. Just a missed call.’
‘And that was hours ago.’ Jac hastily keyed her own number, hoping Karim still had her silver with him. She waited impatiently for him to answer, her mind running through all the things that could have happened.
If he was above ground, Luc was in danger from Burton remote-detonating the tracker embedded in his arm––and if anything went wrong his only protection was a seventeen year old IT genius who had no more clue about self-defence than she did. Karim didn’t have much of a clue about first aid either, despite her efforts to teach him.
She heard the disorientation in Karim’s voice as he picked up and mumbled something incoherent. The buzz must have woken him.
‘Karim! It’s Jac. Where are you?’
‘Yeah... Where the hell am I?’ There was a pause. Jac fancied she could almost hear Karim’s thoughts struggling to function. ‘Um, Jac, we’re under the east side river bridge. Can someone come and get us? Luc’s in no fit state to be wandering around since yesterday. That thing of his tore his arm open.’
Jac turned to Lizzie. ‘Can someone get them from under the bridge? Luc’s badly injured.’
‘I’ll go.’ Razz heaved himself wearily to his feet.
Jac frowned. ‘You’re exhausted. Isn’t there anyone else?’
‘Not really. I’m covering for Beau while he sorts this legal thing with the mortgage payment. Otherwise we’re all going to be repossessed and out in the street.’
Lizzie grabbed his wrist. ‘Razz, be careful. Don’t bring them here. The hive just pinged a message that all hell’s breaking loose outside. Staz are widening their search outwards from the market and we have to evacuate this clinic now. Too many people back and forth all night. They’ll find it soon.’
Razz didn’t waste time asking for details and headed for the door. Lizzie signalled her medic team to start packing up before giving Jac what extra details she’d received.
‘The hive i
ntercepted a couple more low-level transmissions. Burton’s been arrested but his second in command, Smith, is carrying out his plans until the new head of security takes over.’
Jac was still trying to understand how the city system worked. ‘You’ll have to explain. How does that make things worse than they already are?’
Lizzie moved to the window and pushed the blinds aside to check the street. ‘Military units in the city are hunting down anyone involved around the market yesterday. The geeks missed closing off one of the security cameras and it flagged some of our people as the smoke cleared. Our only hope is to stay out of sight for a few more hours until most of the patrols get sent out to the east marshes. Just hope they spend the next few weeks running round all the false-trails Raine’s team laid in the swamp out there.’
Jac was on her feet, hastily packing her first aid bag. ‘How do we move Kit?’
‘We’re loading the last few patients into the jeep now to take them home. It’s too soon but we’ve no choice. I’ve hired a car to take you and Kit to a safe house near the perimeter fence. It’ll be here soon. When he’s fit enough to go under the wire on foot, Razz and the tigers will get you both through.’
There was still a piece missing somewhere in Jac’s hurried efforts to make sense of events. ‘Hang on, if Burton’s arrested and Smith’s only second in command, who’s actually in charge of security now?’
Lizzie turned back from the window. ‘Oh. They didn’t need to intercept anything to find that out. He was on TV this morning, being promoted by the president. Someone called Parry.’
Bel gave a stifled gasp and buried her face in her hands.
Jac felt the wave of guilt and shock from several paces away. ‘Bel? What’s the matter?’
Bel stared at the floor, avoiding her eyes. ‘I’ve made another mistake. When the Warren was attacked I took a chance and kidnapped Parry. I hoped that if Raine could talk to someone inside the system, maybe we could start to negotiate instead of always fighting. Now Parry’s in charge of hunting us all down––and I gave him the advantage of knowing what Raine looks like.’