Fate Uncertain

by Kim Cleary

  Sal wrenched herself away from the man in ripped jeans and lurched to the sofa. I shoved my satchel further behind me.

  "Everyone has something we can sell honey, hand it over." She grabbed my arms and tugged.

  Instinctively I drew in more energy from the earth and bumped it against her body. She stumbled back and fell onto her bum with a screech.

  "Did you see that?" Sal wobbled to her feet. "She pushed me over without touching me. She's a witch."

  A few people stumbled away from us. Sal teetered back against the man in ripped jeans. He circled his hands around her waist.

  An older man, silvery beard flowing down his chest, pushed them out of the way. He gripped Glynn's gun and made a show of flicking the trigger lock off while a slow smile spread across his face.

  Glynn edged back to the sofa, his body a shield protecting Del and me.

  Del sprung back against the sofa and lunged toward the table. The older man fired at her. She fell to her knees, wobbled, smacked her head on the corner of the table, and crumpled onto her side.

  It happened so fast. Then Del lay still.

  My senses heightened, and death reeked into my nostrils. A body lay not far away from me. No, not dead yet, but so close it didn't matter. Their death energy swirled toward me.

  I twined a string of pulsing energy into a thick cord, and wrapped it around the bearded man's ankles. His eyes flashed then tightened. He stumbled forward as he tried to free his legs. He fired Glynn's weapon again. The bullet ricocheted off the wall and smacked into the body of an unconscious woman lying spread-eagled across a low divan. She didn't make a sound, didn't wake, even though blood pooled at her waist. Someone screamed.

  Glynn crouched and charged at the bearded man.

  Time seemed to slow down, seconds dragged like hours. The old man's withered hand and the gun it held filled my vision. The bearded man steadied himself on his knees, gritted his teeth and took aim at Glynn's chest.

  A younger man lurched across the room, a heavy chain swinging from his hands. He lifted the chain as if he meant to crash it into Glynn's skull. Still full of power, I shoved him across the rug and over Glynn's body.

  Bearded man fired twice. The younger man's body jerked then stilled.

  My body quivered from exertion. The death energy here was ugly and hard to control, but the old man still held a loaded gun. I massed more death energy in my chest, thrust it at the bearded man and sent him reeling into the wall. He screeched. The gun careened across the floor. Lanterns toppled over, flames licked across the floor and reached the kids with the pipes. The glass pipes shattered and burst into flames. The kids leapt up, stamping their feet and screaming.

  Glynn thrust the dead body away. He grabbed a young girl who'd picked up the gun, and yanked it from her hands. Her wails joined the cacophony of noise.

  Glynn yelled at me to get the vests and guns.

  I scrambled to the table, took everything and slumped to my knees next to Del. Thank Haebeth, she was alive, but she lay unconscious and bleeding from a wound in her shoulder.

  Glynn yelled instructions to throw rugs over the rapidly spreading flames. People rushed to follow his orders, coughing into their hands and elbows as foul-smelling smoke filled the air.

  I dropped the weapons next to Del, clutched the end of the rug underneath her and dragged it to the still open sliding door. No one tried to stop me. No one tried to help. In the sand, I toppled over and thudded onto my bum.

  Glynn jumped through the open door, helped me to my feet and lifted the rug. "Take the other end. It'll be easier for you to step forward."

  Gasping for breath, I grappled to take the rug back from him. "I'm fine. Your arm is bleeding."

  "Get to the other end. Don’t breathe deeply."

  He stubbornly held on until I took the front of the rug and dragged it across the sandy patch, to the track through the long grass.

  Thistles as tall as me smacked into the side of my head and pulled out strands of hair. I fell onto my knees and scrambled to grab the rug again.

  "You're doing great. Not far now," Glynn called out.

  Between us, we maneuvered Del back to the shed. Our bicycles still waited for us on the cracked pavement in front of the old shed. Nothing remained to hint at what happened here. Kids on a casual scavenger hunt could have dropped the bikes. I collapsed against the wall, my breathing rapid and noisy. A spot of blood landed on my shirt; one of the weeds must have smacked into the wound on my forehead.

  Del moaned.

  "Let me look at her." Glynn fell to his knees on the rug next to her.

  A bullet had grazed across her collarbone. Bits of broken bone stuck out of her skin. Blood puddled on the rug under her.

  Glynn muttered curses. He drew a Swiss Army knife from his vest, hacked off a piece of his shirt, pressed it against the wound and pulled me closer. "Hold that tight."

  I pressed both hands against the mound of fabric, all the time darting quick glances back towards the track.

  "I doubt they'll follow us." Glynn rummaged in his pockets and pulled out several large square sticking plasters.

  "The old guy?"

  "On fire as I left."

  "That place. Those people." I shuddered. "What did the skinny guy mean—about catching them alive or arisen?"

  "I don't know."

  "Is it the something you don't want me anywhere near?"

  A drop of blood dripped from the gash on Glynn's forearm onto my hand. Blood from Del's wound saturated the cloth I pressed against her. Glynn's hands shook around the oversized sticking plaster.

  He ripped the patch open and stuck it next to the wound. "Painkiller, antibiotics, stimulant. Got to get her to base." He added another two patches. "Out of date, but it's all we've got."

  I squeezed his hand. "Let me try."

  "You're not—" He shook his head at me. "You're not good at healing. And you’ll hurt yourself."

  I hadn't used my healing wand in months, and then, bloody hell, it hurt so much. I wasn't a natural healer, but what else did we have to try. My arms tingled as a gentle breeze cooled the beads of sweat forming on my skin. "Look at how much she's bleeding. How do you think the two of us will carry her to your army base? All we’ve got are bicycles. We won't get her back in time. You know that."

  His hands stilled in his lap, his head dropped back.

  Death energy spiraled in me, not helpful for healing, but it’s all I could connect to. I shoved him out of the way, pulled the wand from my satchel and leaned across Del's body.

  "Don't touch me." Del jabbed my hand away.

  "Do you want to bleed to death before we find Aidan?"

  She flinched, switched her gaze to Glynn's face. "Quick-clot gauze Captain B."

  "None left." Glynn straddled Del. He laid his gun on her chest and gripped her elbows to her sides. "Hold still and let Meagan do her thing."

  Del wriggled. "You said she is no good—"

  "I meant it's not a natural strength. She has to work at it, and work at it she will."

  "I'm not happy about this, sir."

  "Noted." He nodded at me. "Go for it. If anything comes through that grass, it's getting shot."

  I wasn't happy about it either. The bullet had gouged a furrow across her collarbone and cut into a vein or artery. The bones could wait, but I had to stop the bleeding. The wound from the cutting wheel on her arm was already clotted, her body striving to heal itself. Good, I needed all the help I could get. I didn’t have to fight it, and I could just help it heal itself.

  New cells wanted to mend the rips in Del’s muscles; bone wanted to knit together again. The severed veins sought each other out to repair connections. I pulled in raw clean power from the earth. Dear Haebeth, it churned a furnace in my abdomen. I let it climb and swirl with the death energy in my chest, my breaths hitching as I struggled with the pain.

  The worst was yet to come.

  With the wand in my hand I focused the energy inside me and pushed it into th
e crystal. A moan escaped my mouth. I felt Glynn’s gentle touch, heard my name from his lips, but I couldn’t react.

  The crystal amplified my energy and concentrated pure healing power into Del’s wound. But it tossed concentrated death essence back at me, a series of razor blades into my gut, each one deeper than the last.

  I leaned deeper over Del’s body, the wand gripped in both hands. I had to heal her just enough. Just enough to get to a hospital and doctors, and operating rooms.

  Chapter 11

  I couldn't do any more for Del. The wound was sealed against infection and I'd stopped the bleeding but her search for Aidan was over. We needed to get her to the army base and its hospital. I slumped against the old shed, the rusted metal coarse against my back.

  Gray smoke still drifted from the twitchers’ warehouse but luckily a soft breeze moved the foul-smelling smoke away from us. Glynn tore off another piece of his shirt, moistened it and dabbed it against my forehead.

  He pushed a bottle of water into my hands. "Drink."

  A surreal saffron hue bathed the entire landscape. "What time is it? How long—"

  "You worked on her for about twenty minutes. It's almost 9pm. We can rest a few moments more." He kissed my cheek, gently touched his lips to mine.

  I curled against him. His touch soothed some of the throbbing aches.

  "It felt longer." I guzzled a mouthful of the warm water. "Your arm. Let me look."

  "I've bandaged it. It's fine. If you still want to play doctor, heal yourself."

  I resisted an urge to rip the bandage off, check for myself, get the healing wand out and use it. Who was I kidding. Even if he let me, I'd struggle to find the energy to continue to the tunnels let alone perform another healing. Not for him, or me. I nestled back against his chest, he leaned into me and rested his forehead gently against mine.

  "Why aren't they running this way, the twitchers I mean."

  "They've run to the river and cover of trees." Glynn pointed back the way we'd come. "No reason to expose themselves here on the roads."

  "How far away is the base?"

  "Not far, but the fastest way is via the tunnels." He shook his head.

  "Is it close to the city?"

  "Right on the outskirts."

  "You don’t want to go through the tunnels even now?"

  "Nope. But I’m not leaving you both here while I get a medic." He rubbed his hands across his face. "I’ll carry Del and we’ll make our way back to the city. From the station, I’ll run to the base and organize a medic to collect Del and take you home."

  I jerked away from him. "I'm not going home yet."

  "I meant to Del's place." He pulled me back close to him, kissed the gash on my forehead. "Have to keep you away from the base."

  "Why? It's the addicts, isn't it? Something to do with catching them alive or arisen?"

  Glynn leaned back against the shed. "I've got suspicions. No real evidence yet."

  "Stop holding back." I touched his cheek. "Tell me what you know."

  His face tightened. He squirmed as he brushed his hands down his thighs. "The medical equipment the army used to rely on is running out, and we've lost the skill to make more. Asher and the doctor on base came up with an idea."

  Del moaned quietly. I reached for her wrist. Her pulse beat a little fast, her skin felt clammy, but her shoulder wound continued to heal. She wriggled and fell back to sleep.

  I slid back to Glynn. "Go On."

  Glynn settled into a comfortable position. "They've been testing the drugs and the addicts to see if we can use anything for rapid healing. What a waste of time. All twitch does is wreck immune systems and destroy the ability to heal. They decided to clean them up instead."

  "You mean rehabilitate them?"

  "No. Kill them." He held up his palm to cut off my gasp. "There's nothing anyone can do to help them. Which led to phase two. They chased a group of twitchers into the underground railway system, and discovered some undead. Something different about them. Living corpses that didn't act like any other undead we've ever come across."

  I sprung onto my knees, swallowed a shout of excitement. "In the warehouse, I felt something not right. Something I've not come across before."

  "A living corpse?"

  "Nothing like a corpse. But definitely a living dead."

  "How? Why now? What's going on?"

  "Can't explain it. Is it true? Is the army killing the addicts, deliberately trying to catch a living dead? An arisen as the skinny guy called it?"

  "Yeah, that's the bit I don't have any evidence for. I knew Asher before. He was always pedantically by the book, but now he is different, crueler. And I don't want you anywhere near him." Glynn kissed the gash on my head again.

  "The bearded man maybe, not the skinny guy, he's alive." Or at least he was alive when we escaped from the burning warehouse.

  "And you are my brave, clever, skinny chick with a bag." With a grin spreading across his face, Glynn wound his hand around my waist.

  "I'm not skinny. I could do with losing a few pounds—"

  "No, you're perfect as you are." He pulled my head against his chest.

  "My bum's not perfect." I blew a soft breath against his neck

  "You are wrong on so many counts." He planted warm, soft kisses on my cheeks, my mouth, my eyes and my mouth again. "Everything perfect, from each tiny toenail to every glowing red hair."

  I wriggled closer to him, took a deep breath and savored his scent. So much for getting to bed early, spending time entwined around one another, getting answers to my questions. He hugged me and I snuggled into his chest to enjoy a few precious moments together before we raced off again. I had no desire to be anywhere else, felt no need to try and talk above the singing of what sounded like a million cicadas. I smiled as the amulet pressed against my cheek. Whether he liked it or not, the amulet swung at the bottom of his throat, attuning to him, casting its magic around him.

  Del stirred with a long low groan. "I'm giving you a D minus for guard duty, Buckley. Lucky for us the rabble didn't stream through here. Son of a bitch, that hurt." She curled her knees to her chest.

  "I'm watching from the corner of my eye." Glynn let out a long breath, squeezed my hand. "You had us worried. How does it feel?"

  Del snorted. "Bloody wonderful. How do you think it feels?" She lifted onto her elbows and stared into my face. "I felt you inside me."

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

  "You mended me. That's all that matters."

  I handed her the water bottle. "The bleeding has stopped."

  Del took a long gulp, her hard gaze didn't leave my face. "Why didn't you grab the gun and use it, girl?"

  "I didn't even think of it, until you reminded me."

  "And then?"

  Del and Glynn treated guns as natural appendages at the ends of their arms. They'd never understand how one of their weapons felt alien to me.

  I shrugged. "I couldn't let them get my athame—"

  "Your what?"

  "It's a knife, largely ceremonial. But important to me."

  "She did her own thing and got us out of there when our guns failed. Saved your life." Glynn stroked my back. "She never has to touch a gun ever again as far as I'm concerned."

  My aches melted away. I turned my face into Glynn’s chest and wound my arms around his body.

  Del seemed to consider Glynn's words. She rolled onto her knees and stretched her back. "Okay. I accept it takes all kinds."

  Not a rave review from Del, but probably the closest thing to praise I'd get.

  "We have to use the train tracks now," Del said. "What have we got, six hours before your attack launches?"

  "Slow down. You just got shot. A little over six hours." Glynn glanced at his watch, settled back on his haunches. "It's too tight, you need treatment. I want you at base hospital and Meagan safe at your place."

  "You know I'm not gonna do that." Del pushed herself to her feet. "I've had worse and survived. Meagan
? What do you say, onward or go home?"

  Glynn was right. Del needed treatment, but we had to go through the tunnels anyway. Hard to imagine her getting any further before she realized she needed the hospital.

  I squeezed Glynn’s arm, hoping he understood. "We haven't found Aidan yet."

  Del flashed a quick smile at me.

  Glynn let out a long sigh, glanced at his watch again then back toward the narrow track. He looked at Del then me, his face grave. "We better get moving."

  We scrambled to our still waiting bicycles.

  I arranged my satchel around my chest. "It's lucky for us the addicts didn't strip the bikes for anything to sell."

  "No luck involved. The weapons are worth a great deal more than old bicycles." Del stifled a groan as she gripped the handlebars. "Not far ahead, the track curves to the right then dips into the beginning of the underground loop. An old walking track runs alongside it."

  Glynn checked his gun and thrust it back into the holster. He found a small torch in one of his pockets and flicked it on for a few seconds. "Stick together. Follow me. It will be bloody black in there. We'll hug the tunnel wall. Ready?"

  He didn't wait for an answer. Glynn climbed onto the bike, stood on the pedals and cycled ahead. We rode for ten minutes in silence. The underground loop appeared ahead like the hungry open mouth of Hell. Moonlight and twinkling stars from above, absolute blackness within. The lights on our bikes cast bouncing yellow circles of light as we moved.

  At the entrance to the tunnel, Glynn switched on the torch. He grabbed my hand and guided me to a step about a foot high. "Stick to this narrow concrete ledge right next to the tunnel wall." He lifted the bicycle onto the ledge. "Climb onto it and stay on the path."

  Narrow was too generous a description. My feet and the bicycle just fit. Pushing the bicycle along, I scraped my knuckles, my knees, or my shoulders or everything at once. No one else complained, so I kept quiet too.

  With every step my body quivered. Maybe it was just the death energy draining away. Tingles fired across my skin. I didn’t sense anything dead or undead close by, but if twitcher undead hung around these tunnels how would they feel to me? My head burst with more questions than answers. Del wanted her son, Glynn wanted both of us safe, and I wanted to understand what the hell was going on. I shook the tightness from my shoulders, nothing for it but to press on.