by Gavin Magson
“If I wanted to kill you I could have done it already. My name is Ajax and I came for the room.” he said, offering her the shotgun’s stock and his free hand.
The girl took in his clothes and the small lens attached to his collar, which she recognised from her other lodgers. She took the offered shotgun and his hand, allowing Ajax to pull her up from the floor.
“I am sorry about the less than warm welcome, it's not exactly a good time to live in this sector; I’m sure you can understand how tense it is. We have a room prepared and waiting for you. The best we have to accommodate your delivery is the attic room; I'll show you the way.”
Ajax surveyed the dim room as his eyes adjusted to the lack of lighting. He noticed a figure skulking in a corner that could only be this girl’s sister, despite the darkness he could see that they looked near identical, and that only a couple of years could have separated them. In the gloom Ajax saw the outline of a bulky weapon in her hands. There was no doubt in his mind that if he had moved to kill his host the sister would have gunned him down in a heartbeat.
Furniture was piled ceiling high against the rooms front window and the thick curtains, faded and frayed from age, were drawn across it to ensure no one could see in from outside. There were no sources of light in the room, what little filtered through from the streets was all he could see by.
The girl wordlessly handed over the shotgun to her sister and lead Ajax through a cloth doorway to a staircase. Old wood creaked under his weight as they climbed, more whitewash walls, these covered with mould, greeted him.
“You haven't told me your name yet.” stated Ajax, breaking the long silence.
“It's Katherine, not that you need to know it. Even if both of us survive this you'll never see me again.”
“With such a warm welcome I might have to stay here again. Where are your other guests?”
“Dead, or out hunting. I can't keep a track on them; their faces just blend into one after a while. I hope you last longer than our last guest; they never did find all the pieces of that poor bastard.”
They stepped onto the buildings fourth floor in silence. Katherine led him down the corridor until they met a short flight of stairs which lead to a door. She climbed to the top and pulled out a key from her apron, which unlocked the door that she pushed wide with a grunt.
“This is your room and here is your key, communal showers are on the second floor. The rent is paid up and food is served in the basement. Don't expect some fancy menu, this street war has cut us off from any supplies and good food is very limited. You'll eat what I serve or forage out there for something; it is your choice. I wouldn't expect to find any fresh food unspoiled out there, so don’t pin your hopes on finding anything.”
It was a larger room than he was used to, all the more spacious for not having a bathroom. Katherine had not exaggerated about it being the only one that could hold all his supplies. Grey munition and weapon crates were stacked on both sides of the room and surrounded a thin mattress. There was no frame, just worn covers to ward off the weather whilst he would sleep on the floor. At least there was a solitary pillow, although the bulge in its middle suggested it had seen better days.
Ajax surveyed the room before turning to face Katherine. She was almost quick enough to hide the grin that had spread across her face.
“How do I get back in the building at night, without eating a face full of buckshot?” asked Ajax. His landlady sneered at the comment, yet there were hints of a smile hidden under her hard, cold expression.
“There is a rear entrance, it leads into the basement where you will have to knock on the door and wait for either myself or Gel, I mean Angelica, to answer. It's also the way I want you to leave since it attracts less attention. I don't want your enemies blowing me up in my sleep; we have done well to not have one of your comrades followed back here so far, don't change that.”
“If those are your terms I will abide by them, I have no desire to be blown up in my sleep either. What time is food tonight?”
“You have a couple of hours yet. Try not to shoot any holes in my walls in the meantime.”
Katherine left the attic room and he was finally alone with his toys. Ajax turned around swiftly and immediately clashed his head with the sloping roof above, through the sharp pain he cursed loudly. He heard laughter coming from behind the door as Katherine's footsteps died away, which only fuelled his irritation.
When he recovered his senses Ajax opened a slim box on top of the pile. Inside his new rifle, a telescopic sight, and a cleaning kit were packed tightly into the container. He sat down on the mattress, his back against the cold wall, and started cleaning the components before assembling the gun, his hands moving at a blistering pace. It felt like something he had done a hundred times before, which fitted into the memories that Joel had unlocked. It seemed as if all he had were pieces of a puzzle too large for him to solve anytime soon. He brushed aside the thought and focused on the task at hand.
The gun looked just as menacing as he remembered, its stock fitted comfortably into his shoulder and the weight felt evenly balanced in his hands. Ajax put the gun down and started rummaging through the remaining cases until he had sussed out which contained the different types of ammunition, weapons and supplies.
He began the lengthy task of filling empty magazines with bullets, ensuring that he had plenty in reserve for when he could tackle the slums. In the top case he had found, alongside boxes of rifle ammunition, several reels of different coloured tape. He had requested these almost as an afterthought from Beryl, his idea being he could use them to distinguish the ammunition within magazines without having to fire off a round and risk blowing a new doorway in a wall.
Outside the sounds of gunfire were moving further away, brief exchanges flared up in several directions but sounded like they were decreasing in frequency as the skies darkened. A single skylight gave him a view of roof tops and reminded Ajax of his warm room back in the Haven. Ajax stood up and tried to prise it open but even his strength could not budge the years of rust around the frame. He had hoped to be able to see the streets from his window and gather his bearings.
Ajax gave up on the window and busied himself with filling magazines, which he then filed back into the crates when finished. He moved onto the little ammunition he had bought for his handgun, which still amounted to a thousand credits worth. The coloured strips had to go under the magazines base to prevent them jamming inside his gun.
The task took longer than Ajax had estimated, Katherine must be close to serving up food, or what passed for it around here. He abandoned the little work he had left, which by his rough count was only ten more magazines. Ajax strapped his handguns holster under his jacket, slotted in a clip of standard bullets and toggled the safety on. He had felt naked the entire time in the slums without a gun, now he was finally armed and it was his intentions to stay so for his time in the slums.
Ajax made sure to tread softly on the stairs as he walked down to the basement. He checked each step for any creaks under even a small load and tried his best to memorise which were safe for a silent traversal. The wooden steps could easily have been as old as the building, in a similar state of disrepair and noisy as sin underfoot. It would be difficult, but just possible, to descend the stairs without alerting others of his passage. When he reached the ground floor Angelica was sat in a chair watching the door, the shotgun across her lap absent-mindedly pointed towards him.
“Are you going out?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the windows.
“Not yet. I hear there is some food on tonight?”
“It's been ready awhile, some kind of stew, again. If you ask Kathy she will heat it up for you.”
Ajax gave the woman a nod and walked through the darkness of the room until he found the basement steps. He had to duck low to avoid clashing his head for a second time. A metal support ran across the width of the doorway that he imagined had a faint trace of dried blood smeared along it.
The kitc
hen was cramped to the point of implosion. A single battered stove took up space to his right, a small sink next to the basement door and a table with three chairs the paltry remainder. Sandwiched between the sink and stove was a thick wooden door, warped from heat and age yet solid enough to resist assault long enough to flee. A key hung from a silver hook next to it just above where a heavy metal pipe rested against the door frame. Katherine was washing plates in the sink when he stepped into the low room, she turned at the sound of his footsteps.
“Have you come down for food?” she asked.
“If it's not an imposition could you warm some up for me, please?” asked Ajax. A smile, gone as quick as it came, flashed across her face.
A few minutes later Katherine set down a plate of unidentifiable brown mush on the table, its pungent aroma filled the room so that Ajax could not escape it. He bit back the comment he had brewing, scooped up some on a spoon, and swallowed down a mouthful. It was nowhere near the poison he was expecting, it definitely had some taste to it and was still better than what he had faced in prison. It was not a patch on what the Haven had served up in the past.
“There's something that has been bothering me since my arrival. No one has told me what these mercenaries look like, nor how to tell them apart from anyone else running around here with guns. I could end up shooting them instead of the men I have been sent here to kill.”
“And here I was thinking you were a veteran of this war; your appearance is very misleading. They are very predictable people, everyone who comes in and out of here tends to wear cheap blacks and greys, normally ill-fitting trousers, combat boots and a jacket; a poor man's version of your clothes. They are better equipped than these moronic gangs, so just look out for big guns lugged around by some meat heads. If you end up shooting a few of them it would be no loss to society, in my opinion.”
At least he knew that he would not be too out of place among them, but Ajax was surprised that Katherine could so easily tell his clothes were expensive. He had thought David did a fine job of making them appear much cheaper.
The meal managed to stay down, which came as a surprise to him considering its aftertaste and intriguing texture. Ajax allowed himself a small mental prayer than he wouldn't suffer any effects in a few hours; he could not afford to be searching for a bathroom with the threat of death all around him.
“What time do the men usually come back?” he asked as Katherine cleared away his plate and began to wash it.
“All hours, there is no real pattern to it. Could be that they are trying to avoid predictability, could be that they just don’t care that I have to sleep. I've taken to sleeping down here when it is my shift, simply because of their working times. Just try not to come back all shot up, I have had enough of sewing your kind up on my kitchen table.” That explained the brown and red hues to the table’s wooden surface.
“I'll do my best to come back alive. I can't make any promises but I do have an aversion to high speed bullets and knife blades. I will be going out soon; I'll try not to knock too late.”
Ajax left her to the washing up and headed upstairs to gather his rifle. He packed his numerous pockets with as much ammunition as they could comfortably hold and slipped two small metallic orbs into their own separate pocket. He locked the bedroom door behind him and headed back down to the basement, this time rehearsing the quiet steps.
When he ducked into the basement Angelica was sitting at the table, a plate in front of her and with Katherine nowhere in sight. She took the key off the hook to unlock the door for Ajax, first staring through a peep hole to check there were no unwanted visitors outside. He stepped outside and turned to thank her when the door slammed in his face.
The rain had not relented since his arrival; it gushed down the steps in front of Ajax and overflowed a drain under foot. He checked his tablet and got his bearings from the map, since there had been no recent gunshots to direct him to the action. The overlay had changed since Aiko had shown him, the enemy line had moved back two streets in each direction. At the top of the basement steps he came out into a narrow alley that ran behind the row of buildings. To his left a metal fence with a gate built into it separated him from the street and returning to the city.
Ajax slung the assault rifle over his back and drew his handgun and knife. He gripped the gun tightly in his right hand, which rested on his left arm for stability, whilst the knife glinted menacingly in his left hand, ready to strike when silence was needed.
He stepped towards the flimsy gate and opened it slowly, eyes scanning wide for any sign of a threat. No one greeted him with a hail of bullets, or even a shout of alarm, so he swiftly crossed the street to another alleyway that his map indicated would take him through to an adjacent street. He followed the alley until he reached a darkened corner that his map showed would bring him out onto the next street. Ajax crouched down and peered around the corner until he could see part of the street. As he was about to stand and round the corner a roaming gang passed within a foot of the alley, speaking in hushed whispers. One man carried a torch in his hand that illuminated the ground in front.
He paused at the sudden sight and stepped quietly out of view as the four men slunk past the alleys mouth. When he moved up to the alleys mouth and cautiously leant out a fraction it became obvious to Ajax that they lacked training; not one looked back to check for a tail as he watched them walk off into the distance. Only the man brandishing the torch carried a gun, his lackeys sported two knives and a bat between them; fucking amateurs. Katherine was right, they were ill equipped to face the mercenaries and would be butchered if they resisted.
Ajax waited until the group turned off onto another street before heading in the opposite direction. He kept his footfalls soft and pace steady, yet could do nothing about his visible breath hanging in the air. He had barely made it a hundred yards before a burst of gunfire pierced the nights silence; it sounded like someone else had stumbled upon the gang members. At the last building Ajax flattened himself against its cold brickwork and carefully peered onto the next street.
Around the corner he could see at least a dozen men building a rough barricade out of debris they had pulled from nearby buildings in an attempt to block off the entire street. Their clothes were a mixture of cheaply dyed rags and torn clothing, nothing suited for the harsh temperatures at night, which explained why they were rushing back and forth in a cloud of vapour to try and remain warm. The entire sight seemed comical to him, but he knew the guns that they carried were not.
He tapped his tablet back into life and studied the map for a route around the barricade. As he pinched his fingers over the screen to zoom out he noticed three red dots grouped together within a building at the opposite end of the street, something he had never seen before on his map. There was no fast route that cut around this street, it was either dash across from here, all the while praying no one turned to see him, or backtrack and go the long way around. A shout came from ahead that cut through his thought process and he looked back around the corner.
The barricade was up to shoulder height by now and spanning the streets width. Their biggest mistake was piling it with predominantly flammable materials. Wood was obviously the cheapest building material and even the rain could not save them from a resourceful attacker adamant on torching their roadblock. The shout had come from a man towards the barricades centre, he was growling at a fellow gang member who had dropped a beam on his foot. As Ajax decided he was going to risk the gap and make a dash for it a bullet took out a chunk of the man's skull, spraying bone and grey matter over his apologetic companion.
He was impressed by just how fast they reacted. The remaining men gathered their guns, took aim in different directions, and returned fire within a heartbeat. They sprayed bullets inaccurately in every direction, apparently praying to miraculously hit their attacker. Had no one been watching where the shot came from?
Ajax swung his rifle around his shoulder and looked through its telescopic sight at the buildin
g up ahead. Through the third floor window he could see two men leaning over a railing and taking shots down at the pile of debris. A third man came into view, not a gun in his hand, as Ajax expected, but a pair of binoculars. He looked first at something in his hand then directly at Ajax, as if he knew exactly where he was. Were they the red dots?
Ajax moved back around the corner, the gunfire drowned out his curses as he checked the map once more. The three dots were shown as being in the same building, almost one on top of the other, as where he had seen the men. He assumed that might mean they were mercenaries hired by Rine and Aiko had simply forgotten to mention that feature of his map update. He did not want to think what the other possibilities were, nor did he want to risk his assumption without confirming it first.
Ajax popped his head back around the corner and was greeted by the sight of two men struggling to heft a long metal tube between their shoulders. A third crossed the street, crouched under the barricade as wooden splinters flew everywhere whilst the probable mercenaries fired down upon them. Ajax saw that it was a rocket the man carried in both hands, which he swiftly loaded into the tube.
Realisation hit and Ajax quickly pulled up his rifle, toggled it into semi-automatic instinctively with his thumb and sighted on the men. He squeezed the trigger twice, taking the closest man through the neck and the next in the back of his head. In their hands the tube banked up and to the left, a dead finger caught the trigger and sent the rocket flying into the nearest building.
On impact the rocket detonated, taking out a balcony above in a fiery explosion and raining burning masonry on the men below. Several turned and stood up at the sudden eruption of noise, instantly they were mowed down by the mercenaries. Ajax dispatched the sole survivor before he could flee and the street was cleared; silence once more returned as the last gunshot finished echoing from the surrounding buildings.
Through his rifles scope Ajax could see one of the men above signalling to him, beckoning him to their position. Ajax checked the area for any more armed men, scanning the multitude of windows for signs of a threat. When he was confident there was not a soul in sight he moved at a crouch to the barricade.