Among those who disappeared, or whose bodies were among those found later, charred beyond recognition were Baxter, the Flight Ops Exec, Gus White, Ruddock, Lieutenant Harmer, the remaining wingmen and the entire ground crew. And many other good men besides …
The second blast, in the blood-wagon, blew Kelso to pieces, killed the five medics holding him and Surgeon-Captain Keever, and wrecked the operating theatre. Like all P3X explosions in confined spaces, it was murderously efficient. Several more of the hospital staff who were in the compartment or working close by were either killed outright or fatally injured. Those lucky enough to survive emerged from the debris, concussed, lacerated and badly burned.
The explosions were triggered by the same radio transmitter Steve had used to such good effect during the escape from the Heron Pool, but it was Cadillac and Clearwater who had engineered them.
Three charges remained from the Heron Pool exercise and, on landing near the Hudson River, Steve had carefully removed them from the rocket-powered gliders they had used for the first part of their journey. During the boat trip to Bu-faro, the plastic explosive, detonators and the radio transmitter had been packed in the bag that Cadillac had kept safely in his cabin.
From Bu-faro, the bag had been ferried to Long Point, stowed aboard one of the stolen Skyriders then lugged through snow to the final camp-site. And when Cadillac had learned of Steve’s plan to put Jodi and Kelso on board The Lady he had decided to strike a blow that would impress their hosts and remove, at a stroke, all further opportunity for Steve to continue his double-dealing.
Using a length of twisted animal gut and a piece of bent metal prised loose from the cargo hatch, Cadillac had rigged the handheld transmitter so that the buttons controlling the three explosive charges would be depressed when Kelso was lifted clear of the hatch.
The transmitter and one of the charges had been placed beneath Kelso’s body when they had checked his splints and bandages. Clearwater had then used her powers to enter Jodi’s mind while massaging her neck.
Acting on a planted mental imperative, Jodi had concealed the second charge against her own skin. Later, during the diversionary attack by the Kojak Mutes, she had taken advantage of the confusion to place the remaining charge in Ruddock’s Skyhawk. She had no memory of having carried out these actions but the original programme remained embedded in her subconscious. So when Buck McDonnell proposed an action that would reveal the charge hidden under the tunic – and thus violate the plan – she resisted like a deranged zombie.
Kelso had been given the same treatment, making him insensible to the lethal package placed in the small of his back. Sudden, violent death overtook him before his brain could register the sickening realization that he had been betrayed. It was ironic – for had there been time, he would have cursed Steve with his dying breath.
Ironic and rather sad because, for once in his life, Steve was blameless. He had played it straight. Well … straight-ish. And he had ended up being outsmarted. But at that moment in time, Cadillac hadn’t told him the good news. So as the three of them ran northwards with their jubilant Mute escort, Steve was unaware that The Lady from Louisiana lay gutted and burning and that, with Kelso’s death, his carefully-laid plans had also gone up in smoke.
Chapter Seven
Even though there were no further falls of snow, it took Steve nearly three days to cover the forty or so miles separating their abandoned campsite and the Kojak settlement. Hampered by the arrow wound in his thigh he had been unable to match the pace set by the posse and Cadillac had taken the opportunity to further underline his new-found superiority by urging him on mercilessly.
Steve gritted his teeth and willed the pain to disappear but on the second morning his leg simply gave way. Stumbling forward like an exhausted horse, he ended up nose down in the snow.
Cadillac stood by, hands on hips while two Kojak braves hauled his rival upright. There was a brief discussion as to whether he should be carried the rest of the way on tracking poles but Steve, aware that he risked losing any ‘standing’ he might have acquired as one of The Chosen, insisted on arriving on his own two feet – in his own good time.
Clearwater announced she would stay with him and asked for two braves to accompany them as guides. Since she had already demonstrated the power to demolish any opposition they might meet on the way, there was no lack of volunteers. Cadillac pressed on with the remaining ten and by the time Steve limped into the ring of firelight, he was already installed in the principal place of honour.
Arriving ahead of the others enabled Cadillac to grab the lion’s share of the acclaim as his escort recounted what had happened and boasted of the part they had played in the downfall of the four cloud-warriors. Among the Plainflolk, this macho display was known as ‘strutting their stuff’.
But that was not all, declared Cadillac, when it was his turn to speak. He had kept his promise to drive the iron snake back to its lair. As his escort would confirm, two of The Chosen, acting on his orders, had used their power to enter the minds of the enemy, forcing the surviving pair of cloud-warriors to carry them back, like avenging angels, into the belly of the beast.
Even now, as he spoke, it lay broken and burning, consumed by the deadly fire it harboured within its belly. The clans to the west, whose turf lay closest to that of the valiant Kojak would eventually pass on word of its destruction by a series of invisible blows striking with the force of earth-thunder.
In unleashing their awesome power, The Chosen had perished – but not for long. Their spirits, borne aloft on the flame-tinted smoke would be gathered by Mo-Town, the Great Sky-Mother and returned to earth in the bodies of mighty warriors. What the fortunate braves had witnessed – and the testimony of their neighbours would soon confirm – was the power of Talisman acting through those born in his shadow.
Heyyy-Y AHHHH! The cry came from close on a thousand throats. The subsequent celebrations, accompanied by ritual drumming, dancing and chanting, and enhanced by copious lungfuls of rainbow grass had been underway for most of the night when the tail-enders arrived. Clearwater still rated a triumphal entry and was borne shoulder-high into the crowded arena where a giant bonfire, ignited by the Kojak in honour of their guests fuelled a scorching hot column of flame some twenty feet high. One of the more parsimonious elders estimated that it had consumed, within hours, more than a month’s supply of winter fuel for the whole settlement but his carping fell on deaf ears.
Steve, the lame duck – literally and metaphorically – was also warmly received, but as he had not as yet, figured in any spectacular action or displayed any mystical attributes, he found himself relegated to the sidelines.
Cadillac’s new grandstanding style was beginning to get under his skin but Steve did not allow it to throw him off course. In their present situation, it was much better to have the Mute fired up with a good head of steam. His inherent personality problems would eventually cause him to come off at the bend and Steve intended to be there when it happened. And this time, he would not be in any hurry to pick up the pieces. Besides, it was not all bad news: with the Mute’s star now in the ascendant he had accepted without demur Clearwater’s expressed wish to bed down with the competition.
Cadillac who, from an early age, had always taken a tremendously earnest view of himself and his allotted role as Mr Snow’s successor, was now very close to achieving the philosophical detachment he had sought for so long. Jealousy and other petty emotions could not be allowed to deflect a true warrior from The Path. Cadillac’s mind was now directed towards greater and far nobler concerns – the forging of the Plainfolk into one nation in readiness for the long-awaited coming of Talisman.
His rivalry with Steve was no longer centred around the possession of Clearwater’s body and soul: it was for the leadership of this great enterprise. Only he, Cadillac M’Call, descended from the bloodline of the She-Kargo, the bravery of whose warriors had no equal amongst the Plainfolk, possessed the qualities and the vision to assume the rol
e of the First amongst The Chosen.
In any case, his earth-longings were now amply catered for. The council of elders of the Clan Kojak, recognizing him as the chief architect of the spirited attack on the cloud-warriors and the predicted death of the iron snake had offered him a multiple choice of the available female braves to grace the hut placed at his disposal. To while away the long hours of darkness, Cadillac chose three complaisant ‘body-slaves’ named Tight-Fit, Stone-Fox and Afternoon-Delight.
Yes. It was all beginning to come together. Through his own quick thinking, and Clearwater’s power, he had reproduced his favoured existence in the service of Domain-Lord Min-Orota except now, he had ‘standing’, the respect and admiration of his hosts; something the Iron Masters had denied him. The recognition of his abilities made him feel whole again, gave him a feeling of boundless confidence. That, plus the generous pipefuls of rainbow grass and the attentions of his fragrantly-oiled, full-bodied bedmates almost made up for the gnawing desolation caused by the complete and utter lack of sake.
*
The clan’s huts had been set up in a series of concentric circles in a forest clearing to the west of what had once been known as Arlington Heights; a sub-division of the pre-Holocaust city of Chicago. Fur-clad sentinels patrolled the perimeter and the paths through the otherwise impenetrable undergrowth. Other, unguarded paths were false trails sown with hidden death pits bristling with sharpened stakes and other, equally lethal, tree-mounted devices.
As a mark of honour, Steve and Clearwater were allotted a hut in the ‘inner circle’ normally reserved for the elders and other notables like Carnegie-Hall and Flying-Tiger, the clan’s paramount warrior. Cadillac and his three foxy ladies had taken up residence next to the wordsmith whose hut lay on the opposite side.
The huts were shaped differently to those made by the M’Calls. Steve’s previous hosts used a system of socketed frames and curved saplings to build skin-covered huts shaped like the tops of button mushrooms about five feet from floor to smoke ring whereas the Kojak used six straight rough-hewn poles tied together near the top to form a triangular structure over twice as high. This meant you could stand up inside and exit on your feet instead of having to crawl out through the doorflap – a marked improvement. But despite the extra space, or perhaps because of it, they were not as warm or as cosy as the womb-like constructions of the M’Calls.
Steve crawled into bed as the celebrations slowly tapered off sometime after dawn. Clearwater followed, lying quietly beside him with tantalizing submissivness. Steve was not immune to the warming presence of her naked body and the delicious way it matched the curves and hollows of his own when he turned his back to her. But even when he felt that electrifying zing as she pressed that soft spot between the top of her thighs against the base of his spine the best he could manage was a mumbled, vaguely grumpy ‘G’nite.’ After what he’d been through in the last ten days he could barely raise his little finger let alone a head of steam – and he stayed buried up to his nose under the thick layer of furs either asleep or dozing for the rest of the day.
It was the morning after, when he woke up with hunger pains and a terrible thirst and was searching through the tote bags for a fresh wound dressing that he noticed the square sticks of explosive, the detonators and the transmitter were missing. The discovery made his stomach turn over. Two more increasingly frantic searches confirmed his worst fears and he knew, with mind-chilling certainty who had taken them – and why.
Throwing aside the doorflap, he strode across the central reservation towards Cadillac’s hut.
Clearwater who happened to be walking back from that direction met him halfway. One look at his face said it all. ‘You know …’
‘Damn right. Where’s Cadillac?’
‘He’s with Carnegie-Hall and the elders.’ She blocked the way as he went to step past her. ‘If you want to talk –’
‘Talk?!!’ Steve’s fury exploded. He tried to brush her aside but she deflected his arm before his hand reached her shoulder and took a firm hold of his wrist, pulling it down to waist level in one swift movement. ‘Vent your anger then. Let your wrath fall on me. For without my help this thing could not have been done.’
‘I have no quarrel with you. The bone I’ve got to pick is with Cadillac.’
Her fingers didn’t relax their vice-like grip. ‘He and I acted together. I will answer for him.’
Steve knew she was strong but this time he had the impression that, if she tightened her fingers any further, she would crush the bones in his wrist. Her eyes were like sapphires set in ice, devoid of love or compassion. He relaxed the muscles in his body. Whatever the provocation, he did not intend using brute force to subdue her.
She relaxed her grip and led him towards the south side of the settlement. They passed through the last ring of huts towards the dense surround of trees and when they were no longer in earshot of the nearest clanfolk they came face to face again.
‘The explosive I brought out of Ne-Issan. Where is it?’
‘It was placed in the belly of the iron snake.’
Of course. Where else …? ‘How?’
Clearwater told him. The tone of her voice was neither triumphant nor apologetic. It all seemed so absurdly easy. All Steve could do was cling on to the vain hope that something might have gone wrong. He glimpsed Cadillac coming towards them as she ended her account with a fatalistic shrug of the shoulders. ‘This thing had to be done. For only by demonstrating our power could we obtain the necessary standing in the eyes of our hosts and gain a secure shelter during the time of the White Death.’
‘You’d already killed four wingmen!’ cried Steve. He waved angrily at Cadillac as the Mute reached them. ‘Wasn’t that enough for this conceited, lumpsucking sonofabitch?!’
‘Grow up, Brickman. That wagon-train had to be stopped dead in its tracks. Did you think it could just be wished away?’
Steve rounded on him. ‘It would have pulled out once Grand Central learned our carcasses had been carried off by Mutes! That was the whole point of putting Jodi and Kelso on board!’
Cadillac greeted this with a bitter laugh. ‘Really? We’re not idiots, Brickman – and neither are your masters who rule the Dark Cities. Or have you forgotten Rozalynn, your kin-sister? Even if Jodi kept her promise and steadfastly held to the story that the three of us were dead, whether under forced interrogation or worse, your masters would know you were alive!’
‘Not necessarily.’ Steve hadn’t figured on the Mute getting that deep inside his skull. He’d have to tread carefully. ‘Roz, uh … knows what the score is now.’
‘Oh?’ Another bitter laugh. ‘And just what is the score, Brickman? Your tongue and your intentions are as sinuous as the iron snake that carried you to us in its belly!’
Steve fought down the urge to fatten Cadillac’s mouth. ‘Jack me! You got one helluva nerve coming out with shit like that! The only reason you’re standing there with your head on your shoulders is because I promised Mr Snow I’d get you and Clearwater out of Ne-Issan. And damn nearly got my ass busted doing it!’
‘Yeah? You wanna know the reason why your ass wasn’t busted? Because we saved it for you! You’re so busy trying to claim all the credit, you’ve overlooked the fact it was Clearwater who saved the day for all of us. And it was the planes I designed and built that gave us a flying start on the road home!’
‘You designed?! Ha! That’s the best joke of all! If you hadn’t hacked your way into my memory-bank, you wouldn’t have known how to join two pieces of wood together!’
‘Oh, yeah?’
‘Yeah! You’d still be the same stupid lump-head I met in that cropfield who didn’t know one end of a rifle from the other!’ As the words came out, Steve wished he hadn’t said them but it was too late.
‘You’re right,’ admitted Cadillac. ‘Saving you was an act of incredible stupidity born of conceit. I should have let you burn.’
‘Stop this!’ cried Clearwater. She lashed out with
both fists, striking them in the solar plexus. The force of the blows made them step back, breaking their nose-to-nose confrontation. She moved in between them. ‘Is this the way The Chosen are to be remembered by the Plainfolk? Squabbling like bad-tempered children?!’
‘Keep out of this,’ said Steve. ‘Ever since we landed this balloon-head’s been treading on my toes and I’m not taking any more of it.’ He squared up to Cadillac again. ‘Okay. I was out of line with that cropfield stuff. You saved my life then, so I reckon that makes us even. And yeah, you did put together a few spruce and silk flutterbugs. We won’t bother to ask where the sudden burst of expertise came from but there’s one thing you can’t deny. That project would never have gotten off the ground without rocket-power.’ He jabbed a thumb against his chest. ‘And that was my idea!’
Cadillac did not lose his new-found cool. ‘Was it? Was it all your own work? Or did you get a little help from your highflying friends you talked to every night?! The same thoughtful people who dropped whatever you needed into that pond at the back of the Heron Pool? What were they expecting in return? These people who used their influence with certain Iron Masters to secure us safe passage through the domain of the Yama-Shita to the waters beyond? What promise did you give them? The same you gave to Mr Snow? To deliver us out of Ne-Issan? Into whose hands, Brickman? Answer me! Into whose hands?!’
Steve saw the same accusing look in Clearwater’s eyes but he managed to conceal his confusion. ‘Nice try, amigo. But you can’t score off me with this one because I’ve got nothing to hide. The Federation dropped those supplies to me ‘cos they thought I was working for them. Sure … they sent me out to capture both of you. I accepted the assignment because it was the only way I could get back up onto the overground. They had me over a barrel because of the threats to harm Roz. I figured once I got out here I might be able to find a way to get her off the hook –’
The Amtrak Wars: Blood River Page 17