by James Axler
Ryan and Jak followed the sec men and Doc to the sofas where they had sat less than forty-eight hours before—a lifetime and world of difference away. Ethan sat opposite them and began to speak again.
“You seem a little bemused, and understandably so given what’s just happened. Let me put this simply. I work on a rule of supply and demand. The people who give us goods and jack want a good show. They want to hunt or to witness a hunt. And they want blood and variety. The first is easy, the second not so much…So when I come across an interesting bunch like you guys, then I start to think. You’re obviously good hunters, and by the same token, would be likely to make good prey. But are you going to do that? No, not without some kind of persuading. And what better than one of your kind being in mortal danger. Your friend J.B. was just unlucky in that he was the first to break cover. It could have been any of you, although mebbe not you two, come to that. You’re too valuable.
“So, you see, I get my hunt, the ville gets its jack, and you get to make your friend better if you play along. Sound reasonable?”
“If I say no?” Ryan asked.
Ethan smiled coldly. “Then J.B. buys the farm and you get forced to run or be shot down like jackals. This way you’ve got a chance. So, no, you’re not going to say no. You’ve got to play the odds, even if you’re only doing it in the hope that you’ll get a chance to turn it around.”
Ryan said nothing. The baron was right, and he knew it.
“Good. I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Ethan said with a smug satisfaction. “The hunt is in five days, when my paying guests arrive. Until then, Michaela will keep J.B. stable, and will administer the antidote when the hunt is over. Your Mildred will assist, to insure fair play.”
Ryan wanted to laugh bitterly. Fair play when J.B. was ill with a mystery disease, Doc was beaten almost to a pulp and the rest of the companions were at the mercy of Ethan’s plans for making big jack?
Wait and see. They’d see who was playing fair at the end, thought the one-eyed man.
* * *
Chapter Seven
It was always going to be a long five days until the hunt began, but it wasn’t made any easier by their being confined to the hospital. The ostensible reason for this was that J.B. was being kept on a level by the ministrations of Michaela and Mildred, with the help of a small dose of vaccine to control the symptoms, administered daily by the spiky-haired healer under the supervision of Ethan himself, who took the precaution of only delivering as much of the vaccine as was necessary, and bringing with him a heavily armed guard.
The companions had been stripped of their weapons before being incarcerated, and this time the sec force under Horse were thorough: blasters were taken, Ryan’s scarf with the lead weights, Doc’s lion’s-head swordstick, the panga and the Tekna knife that Ryan and J.B. used, and even Jak’s camou jacket, after the first leaf-bladed knife was found in its concealed position—the subsequent search only proving to Horse that he could spend all day tearing the garment to pieces and still not find every single knife for certain. Unlike the way in which they had been left with their weapons on first arriving, the prevailing atmosphere was now of hostilities in play: no chances were to be taken, even though the companions had agreed to the hunt to try to save J.B.
Ethan may be confident, but this didn’t spill over into complacency.
Meanwhile, to keep them fit for the hunt, and to insure that it would present a good spectacle for the expected paying guests, they were allowed to train once a day. Under a heavily armed guard, they were taken from the hospital to the sec compound where, under the gaze of enough hardware to chill a small army, they were allowed to work out and to fight with one another to keep their edge of fitness and to keep their reflexes sharp.
As they fought, they would be watched by a pool of spectators from the ville who, from beyond the wire surrounding the compound, would silently study their form. The citizens of Pleasantville were concerned with the fitness of the companions: the fitter and sharper they were, the more successful the hunt; the more successful the hunt, the greater the jack and trade for the ville. They watched the companions as though they were animals being trained to fight for sport…which is, in a sense, exactly what they were.
Ethan would also come to watch. He had a sizeable investment in the future of his barony tied up in them and he wanted to make sure that he got value for his proffered commodity: the life of their friend.
On the fourth day, he walked through the crowds and into the compound as the companions worked out. Ryan was driving them hard, determined that they would be as sharp as possible for the hunt.
“What he want?” Jak snapped between sit-ups, casting a cold and glittering eye over the approaching baron, who was accompanied by a phalanx of sec men, all heavily armed.
“Don’t know,” Ryan grunted through the effort of training, “but I figure we’re about to find out.” The one-eyed man signaled to his people to cease, and rose to his feet in one fluid motion from his sitting position. It was partly so that he could be on an eye-to-eye level with the baron, and partly to press home how fit the companions were—a warning shot for the baron’s sec forces.
Ethan gave the one-eyed man a faint grin that suggested he was aware of this.
“You’re looking good, there, Ryan. Hope the rest of you are in as good a condition.”
The companions were on their feet and around the baron before the sentence had a chance to drift away on the air. They moved so swiftly to surround him that the sec force had no time to react.
Ryan was up against the baron, eyeballing him. He could smell the faint perfumed musk coming off Ethan and could only admire the way that the baron remained calm and showed no fear, even though he was being jostled.
“Back off, there! Back off now!” Horse yelled. The air was filled with the whipcrack of shells being chambered. Ryan turned to see that the sec force had their blasters leveled at the circle.
“Dumb fuck,” the one-eyed man said calmly. “You blast us and you blast your baron, as well. That wouldn’t be too clever, would it? Should have been faster, Horse.”
The dreadlocked sec chief said nothing, but the humiliation and anger blazing in his eyes was a more than eloquent statement.
“On the other hand, what are you going to do to me, Ryan?” Ethan said softly. “You harm me in any way, and you say goodbye to J.B. getting better. And then you get chilled. So who’s so dumb now, then?”
Ryan and the rest of the companions stepped away from the baron, who continued in a calm manner.
“Face it, all you’ve done is prove to me how fit you are. You’ve proved that the hunt is going to be a good one and that you’ll be worth the jack we’re getting. Better, as far as you’re concerned, you’ll be worth your freedom and the life of J.B.”
“Why should we believe you?” Mildred barked. “Why shouldn’t we just rip you to fuck right now? At least we’d have the satisfaction of doing to you what you’re doing to John.”
Ethan shrugged. “Interesting point. It’s a simple answer. This ville and the riches we’ve attracted are based on our word being our bond. If we lie to people about what we’re giving them, then we’d be raided and leveled in revenge. No, I always mean what I say. You take part in the hunt, then J.B. will be given the antidote to his sickness, and those of you who survive the hunt—which may be all or may be none, that’s up to you—will be set free. You have my word on that.”
Mildred spit. “What’s that worth?”
“That’s your choice,” Ethan replied. He gestured to Horse and the sec force surrounded him. “Now I would suggest—and remember, you have the choice—that you keep working. The barons who have paid to see this event will arrive at sunup, and by the middle of the day, the hunt will begin. So if you want to be at your peak…”
He gestured once more and turned on his heel. The sec men followed suit and Baron Ethan left the companions standing in the center of the sec compound to reflect on their fate.
“HOW’S HE BEEN?” Mildred wearily asked Michaela as they arrived back at the hospital after their training session.
“Same as the last few days,” the spiky-haired girl replied, keeping a wary eye on the armed sec man who had been one of the accompanying party and still stood guard in the doorway. This was not so much as a sec measure, but more because he hoped to get a look at Krysty’s body as the Titian-haired beauty stripped before using the shower.
“Ethan’s been, and has administered the injection for today.” She led Mildred out of the guard’s hearing and spoke in a whisper. “Look, I’ve thought of something, but it’s a bit of a long shot. It might be the thing we need to tilt everything in our favor…”
“‘We’?” Mildred questioned.
Michaela grimaced. “I know you’ve got no reason to trust me, but the fact of the matter is that I’m up to my neck in the shit. Doesn’t matter what does or doesn’t happen to you, it’s over my head once this hunt is finished. You think Ethan’s going to trust me again? I may not have helped you that much, but I did tell you things that I shouldn’t have, and I didn’t try to stop you. If you buy the farm or go free, it doesn’t have a bearing on what’s going to happen to me…” She sliced her finger across her throat. “Mebbe that wouldn’t be a bad thing, ’cause I’m sick of the shit that goes on here, but I’d rather have the chance to get out in one piece.”
“Big speech, sweetie, but what’s the point?” Mildred was tired, wanted to shower, and was concerned about J.B. and what the others would have to do on the following day. She was in no mood for grandstanding.
“Point is, I’ve been thinking, and mebbe there’s a way that we can take control of J.B.’s sickness out of Ethan’s hands.”
Mildred snapped to attention. If they could do that, not only would it be of immeasurable help to the Armorer, but it would also give the rest of the companions an edge that no one else would know.
“Tell me, girl,” she urged.
Michaela took a deep breath. “Okay, now I’ve got to say that it’s a long shot, but remember how I told you that all the cultures here—and the ones that Ethan keeps hidden—were taken from a freezer in a hospital in the remains of the city?” When Mildred nodded, she continued. “Well, I don’t think that the sec men he sent to clear it out could have really taken everything. I never saw the facility, but from what I was told it was a damn sight bigger than anything Bones has put together here.”
“And the point is?”
“The point is that there must be something left there. And chances are that the freezer is still working. If we can isolate what it is that J.B. has, then one of us can make a break for the old city to try to find the antidote.”
Mildred kissed her teeth. This was beyond a long shot: it was playing so many odds and possibilities that she couldn’t even begin to calculate…On the other hand, it was better than nothing.
“You’ll have to go, assuming you know where the old hospital is,” Mildred added.
Michaela nodded. “I’ve been into the old city, and although I haven’t been inside, it’s been pointed out to me. I can find it.”
“Okay. Then we need to find out what it is that J.B. has…”
“I’ve prepared some slides. I don’t recognize anything, but mebbe you will. If not, I can just bring back anything that I know I haven’t got here.”
Mildred arched an eyebrow. “You’ve really been thinking about this, haven’t you, girl? You must want to get out of here pretty badly.”
Michaela shook her head sadly. “You wouldn’t believe…”
“I think I might,” Mildred said with irony.
Realizing what she had said, the young healer gave a hollow laugh of her own. “Yeah, pretty stupe thing to say. But what d’you think?”
“It sounds worth a try,” Mildred mused. “The only thing that could work against us is time.”
Michaela sucked in her breath. “That kind of depends on how good your friends are. Most hunts last from the beginning until sundown—some not even that long. If your people are good, and can make it last overnight, then that should be more than enough time, especially if I can get away quickly.”
Mildred nodded slowly. “Yeah, sounds good in theory. But what exactly do you get out of it if you do help us?”
“Simple,” Michaela said ingenuously. “I get to come with you.”
“NO WAY—we don’t know that this isn’t part of some plan that Ethan has to improve his hunt,” Ryan snapped when Mildred laid the plan before the rest of the companions.
“Maybe it is, lover, but maybe we should play along even if it is so,” Krysty said softly, toying with her food.
It was now dark outside and the companions were eating after showering and resting from their earlier exertions. There was a sec guard outside the hospital, but a quick recce from Jak had established that it was at enough of a distance that they couldn’t be heard if they kept their voices low, which was hard in current circumstances as tempers were short-fused with frustration and exhaustion. A good night’s rest was what they needed before the hunt, not an argument like this.
Which is why Krysty was trying to calm the one-eyed man. Since Dean had been taken by Sharona, Ryan had been on the edge. It wasn’t that he had made any particularly bad decisions that had landed them up to their necks in shit, it was more that he had been volatile, inclined to explode where previously he had been calm, able to step back and to look at the overall picture before planning action. Now there seemed to be no action, only reaction.
“Why?” he raged. “Why the fuck should we do what this girl says when it may be designed to lead us into trouble?”
Which proved her point…
“Because I fear that we have little other option,” Doc mused. He understood only too well the pain of loss—perhaps more so than any of the other companions would hope to know, certainly more than he wished them to ever know—and, like Krysty, he understood, too, that it was imperative to keep Ryan calm. He continued. “It seems to me that, if we are being led in a certain direction, then it would benefit us to try to hoodwink the baron. To let him think that we have fallen for his simple-minded ruse and to lull him into a false sense of security before striking back at the moment that he least expects it.”
Ryan gazed at Doc and a slow smile spread across his previously angry and stress-tightened visage. “Fireblast and fuck it, Doc, that’s the most sense anyone’s spoken to me for a long time, and it’s a hell of a lot more sense than I’ve been thinking for myself. I guess we can’t lose that way—if she’s genuine, then we’ve got an ally. And if she’s a fraud, then we just string the bastard along until we’re in a position to hit back.” Ryan looked around his people, as if seeing them for the first time in a long while. “Look, there are no excuses. I’ve been somewhere else when I should have been with you, and I could have bought us all the farm. Whatever happens now, it’s not going to get me any closer to Dean. There’s nothing I can do about that except trust to fate that one day I’ll see him again. But I’ve got you people, and you’ve been with me all the way. Thanks for being there…Now we need to whip this stupe’s ass and get away from this pesthole in one piece, and with J.B. Mildred, go get that healer…”
Mildred grinned. “Thank heavens for that. I thought we were never going to get you back, Ryan.”
She left the room where they had been talking in hushed tones and fetched Michaela. The spiky-haired girl, who seemed far too young to be involved in a situation like this, had been waiting nervously in a ward at the end of the corridor. As there were rarely any inhabitants who had to stay over to be hospitalized, Baron Ethan had taken the precaution of setting up an alternative clinic for the citizens of Pleasantville, staffed by assistants who had learned their skills from Michaela. This meant that, for the five days leading up to the beginning of the hunt, he had been able to isolate the companions—and most specifically J.B.—from the rest of the ville, and also to isolate Michaela.
She wasn’t guilty of b
eing the baron’s agent. She knew that, but could understand why the companions were suspicious. After all, until this point she had been careful about concealing her desire to escape Pleasantville to avoid Ethan’s wrath, keeping her head down and going about her business without rippling the waters. So of course her sudden desire to help them would seem suspicious: but she was sure that some of her actions had alerted Ethan to her true feelings, which was part of the reason why she had been isolated with the potential prey.
They had to believe her. They were her chance to escape this oppressive ville. If she blew it, then she felt sure that her own life would be short after they had departed.
All this passed through her mind, along with as many scenarios as she could imagine where things went wrong, and she was left to face the wrath of the baron alone. She knew that Horse had always desired her, and that Ethan didn’t allow his senior sec men to have relationships with other women in what he termed “executive” positions. If her true desires were known, then it would be big trouble for her. Because Ethan would strip her of her authority as ville healer and hand her over to Horse to do as he wished. She didn’t desire Horse; she desired no man. It was only the awakening of desire for Mildred that had strengthened her resolve to finally act. Not that she would let Mildred know this. She could see the way that the woman looked at J.B. as she tended to him in his sickness. No, it would be enough if she could help them, and also get away herself.
But first they had to believe her.
The door to the ward opened and Michaela looked up, feeling a surge of desire flood through her as Mildred came into the room. She repressed this, as she knew she had to, and tried to read the woman’s face.
“Come with me,” Mildred said softly, “we’ve made a decision.”
Michaela rose from the bed and followed Mildred to where the companions had discussed her proposal. As she came upon them, she could see immediately that they didn’t wholly trust her.
It was Ryan who was the most open and readable: his icy-blue eye was focused on her, his jaw set firm. The long scar puckering his cheekbone and beginning somewhere in the injury covered by his eyepatch seemed whiter than usual against the weatherbeaten tan of the surrounding skin, as if it were the only part of him to reflect the inner tension he felt.