by Britt Ringel
She sprinted to the main street and looked in both directions. From the right, a small group of people ran toward her. To the left, a few vendors huddled in a circle close to a fire barrel. They seemed to be standing over someone on the ground.
Kat charged to her left. Approaching the fire barrel, she skidded to a stop in a cloud of dust and found Stew lying on his back, gasping for air. A crimson oval expanded on the center of his yellow shirt. “What happened?” Kat nearly shouted.
The group looked to Kat in near unison and each vendor wore the same stunned expression. “Three people—” one said.
“I thought it was four,” someone interrupted.
“Three people walked right up to us and grabbed Maggie Reynolds. Maggie just collapsed as they approached and they just took her!” The man speaking was clearly in shock. “Stew started after them and one of them turned and gunned him down.” He looked down at the injured market guard and back at Kat. “Is he going to be okay?”
She examined Stew more closely, remembering her triage training. His breaths were shallow and spasmodic. The red circle on his shirt was joined by a pool of blood under him. She moved next to the man and knelt.
“W—Who are you?” asked a woman in the circle.
Kat ignored the question and tried to pull Stew’s shirt up his chest to see the wound. The man grunted loudly in pain. She stopped and instead slid her free hand under the shirt and felt. The wound in his chest was roughly the size of a small coin. She swallowed grimly and ordered, “Help me lift him up a little so I can feel his back.”
Two men knelt on either side of Kat and slipped their hands under the stricken guard. The woman standing over them gasped loudly and exclaimed, “She’s, she’s got a gun!” She took several steps backward, pointing at the weapon in Kat’s hand, and began to scream louder. The men assisting Kat started to scramble away.
Kat stated firmly, “I’m Doctor Reynolds’ personal bodyguard! Now, you can either run from me or help me save this man!” She tried to slip her hand between Stew and the ground but it wouldn’t be possible without using her other hand to lift him up. There’s no way I’m letting go of this gun, she told herself.
One of the men looked from Kat to her pistol. Finally, he moved back into position and helped ease Stew over to his side.
Kat inhaled sharply and slid her hand underneath the blood-soaked shirt to Stew’s back. She immediately felt a ruinous mess. The exit wound was a crater nearly as wide as her hand. She felt slick chunks of tattered flesh interspersed among broken pieces of bone. Nobody can survive this. “Ease him back down,” she ordered. She pointed at her helper with a hand now covered in a glove of scarlet. “Take your shirt off and put direct pressure to his chest. Someone else use their shirt as a pillow for him.”
Kat leaned over the fallen man and peered into his eyes. Already, Stew’s face was growing slack and his eyes were glazed. “Stew,” she said, “I think it went in and out. It’s not bad at all. We’ll get you some pain medicine and you just relax, alright?” She forced a smile to her face. “We’ll take good care of you so just rest. I’m going to get Maggie and she’s going to treat you.”
The man reached up and gave her hand a grateful squeeze. His weak smile revealed bloody teeth.
Kat stood up and addressed the shirtless man who was folding his garment under Stew’s head. “Go to the clinic. Second jar on the top shelf. Mix a spoonful of the white powder in the jar with water and have him drink it.” She looked at the group as a whole. “Where did they take Doctor Reynolds?”
The man who had been the first to speak pointed north. Kat took a final look at Stew and ran after the only person she might yet be able to help.
She reached the next intersection and searched the street for clues. The cross-lane was a minor one with carts that mostly sold scrap for recyclers. Kat peered down the narrow side street. On the west side, a lit fire barrel rested in the middle of the lane. A group of four vendors were hiding around their carts.
Kat brandished her pistol. “Which way did they go?” she demanded with a voice full of authority.
A child behind a wheel pointed further north.
Kat resumed her run. The crunching of the dirt beneath her shoes mixed with the sound of her labored breathing. Each footstep threw tiny clouds of dust. She raced past Jacob’s water well. The rhythmic sounds of her footfalls quickened when she heard the growing whine of aircar turbines ahead. Ignoring the throbbing in her side, she pumped her arms faster as she dashed for the next corner. The overpressure of the turbines catching and cycling fully to idle rebounded off the tin shacks down the street.
By the time Kat turned the corner, the vehicle was already airborne. Dust and debris expanded in a cloud of mayhem as the thrust punished the side street. Standing at the perimeter of the downblast, Kat felt her long hair flow wildly behind her like a storm siren in a gale. She raised her weapon to eye level but kept her finger off the trigger. The aircar rose above the rooftops of the market and rotated ninety degrees, toward Waytown. Its front dipped slightly and began to push forward.
Kat’s pistol tracked the car throughout its egress but she felt her shoulders slump. Save your shots. The flechette rounds will spread out so much that you may not even hit the damned thing. She growled silently in defeat as the vehicle continued to gain speed and roared from her sight.
She stood motionless, staring at the dark market’s pitiful skyline and listening to the fading noise of the turbines. When the silence of the night returned, she spun in a half-circle and marched back down the street. The red-shirted woman’s words played inside her mind: “Once we get her back to the convention hall, I won’t need to be as gentle.”
“It’s not over,” Kat promised coldly to the stagnant air. “Not by a longshot.”
Chapter 31
Kat stepped up to a communications console. After returning to the clinic for her satchel, she had pushed her way past the questions of the growing crowd and left the Beggar’s Market at a quick jog. Past the exit, she had ducked among pedestrians, vagrants, buyers and sellers along the Strip on her way to her destination.
Now, just ten meters from the Eastpoint gate, she waved her wristwrap over the console’s scanner and the screen immediately sprang to life. Her credit total appeared in the upper left corner. She tapped a finger to the “Call” option and a number pad appeared with several options below it. She pressed “Search.”
An alphabet flickered over the number pad along with the notification that directory assistance cost five credits per search. Kat typed “Convention” and hit Enter. Her credit total reduced to twenty-five as three lines scrolled underneath her keyword: Mura Convention Center, TriLink Conference Auditorium and FFR Hall.
She reset the screen and started a second search. This time, her keywords were “Sadler Wess.” A single entry appeared as her credit total was taxed again. Kat took a deep breath before pressing her fingertip over the number. As the connection established, her meager reserve of credits began a slow but continuous descent.
The call was answered on the sixth ring. The center of the screen remained blank but Kat recognized Sadler’s voice immediately. It was filled with suspicion.
“Uh, yes?”
“Sadler, it’s Kat,” she replied quickly. “Please don’t hang up!”
The center of Kat’s screen flickered and Sadler’s face appeared. His hair was tussled and he was shirtless. “Kat, where were you today? I called the hospital and they said they released you.”
His concern warmed her heart and gave her strength. Despite the daunting urgency of the task ahead of her, she wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the night talking with him. “I overslept, Sadler. Am I fired?”
He snorted as his eyebrows rose. “Are you kidding? You were right about Lambert. Porter himself found Lambert’s escort and she backed up your story. Lambert crumbled under interrogation and admitted everything in return for clemency in the criminal corporate case against Recore!” He was smil
ing widely, green eyes bright. “Porter says you saved his company. He wants to give you a bonus and a promotion out of the mines and into the offices but nobody could find you.”
“Oh, they found me,” Kat remarked darkly over Sadler’s report.
“We rescued Deke and Reece! We got air flowing to them and worked around-the-clock until we reached them three hours ago. Tick was the first one to make it in. Deke was in bad shape but the doctors say they’re both going to recover. Kat, if you hadn’t escaped when you did, I think they would have suffocated.”
Kat felt her jaw drop. In the tide of the last twenty-four hours, she had completely forgotten about her crew. She shivered slightly as gratitude for their rescue took hold of her.
“Where are you, Kat?” Sadler asked earnestly. “Where did you go?”
She bit her lip as she admitted, It’s time for total truth. I kept telling Maggie half-truths and look where that got her. She took a breath. “Sadler, I’m in trouble. There are hitmen after me although I’m not sure why. They’ve abducted Maggie Reynolds, the doctor I worked for before the mine and they’re going to force her to give me up. I know where they’re taking her but if I can’t get into Waytown, I won’t be able to rescue her. I need your help.”
Sadler looked at Kat with an unfathomable expression. His eyebrows furrowed as concern washed through him. “Kat, they said you suffered a concussion. Tell me where you are and I’ll take you back to the hospital.”
Kat reached into her satchel and thrust a Jamison pistol in a bloody hand to the computer screen. Her voice was ice and her face became stone. “I’m not delusional, Sadler. This is really happening. I’ll tell you everything if you give me a ride to the Mura Convention Center but I have to warn you, not only will you be breaking the visa laws but you’ll be putting your life in danger if you help me.”
Sadler’s eyes remained glued to the weapon. After several seconds, he shook himself out of his stupor. “I want to help you, Kat. I think I—”
Kat cut him off as she stuffed the pistol back into her bag. “Think hard about it, Sadler. If they find out you helped me, you could be in real danger.”
Sadler’s normal, brash expression returned. “Okay, let me think about it, okay, I’ve thought about it.” He looked at her fiercely and stated with a determined edge, “I’m helping you.”
She flashed a brilliant smile. “Thank you. I really need someone in my corner.”
Sadler’s eyes glanced downward. “It says you’re at Eastpoint, Comm Console Three. Is that where you want me to pick you up?”
Kat looked behind her at the heavy foot traffic near the gate. “Yeah,” she sighed. “I honestly don’t know how else you’d find me. I’ll stand by the console and watch for your aircar. Land near it and I’ll come to you.” Her eyes caught on the screen’s corner. She had seven credits left.
“I’ll throw on some clothes and be on my way.”
“Hurry, Sadler. Maggie’s life depends on it,” Kat urged.
The screen blacked out and the main menu reappeared. Kat logged out of the service and stepped aside. She moved under the overhang of a run-down, brick apartment building and watched the skies.
Ten minutes later, Sadler’s aircar rumbled overhead as it tilted skyward to decelerate. The car descended quickly while rotating to face back to Waytown. The Trodden cleared the street as dust devils spun into existence around the craft.
No sooner had the vehicle touched down than the gull-wing passenger door lifted open. A concentrating Sadler expertly worked the controls. Kat jogged out to meet him, jumping inside the vehicle and reaching for the seat restraint. The car took flight even before Kat’s door had begun to close. The thunder from the engine diminished to a rumble when the door finally sealed.
“Hi, Kat,” Sadler said simply with a schoolboy’s smile. His eyes were practically drinking her in. He was wearing a pair of ripstop nylon pants with an old, natural fiber t-shirt. The logo on the shirt read Aegiscore, not Porter.
Kat ran a self-conscious hand through her tangled hair. She was in her usual hessian pants and oversized shirt. They were the same clothes he saw her in every day at the mine but now, the outfit embarrassed her under his gaze. I look like a vagabond.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. It was clear that he meant it.
“You’re blind,” she countered with a sly smile.
Sadler rocked the nose of the car slightly to gain forward momentum. “So, where are we going?”
“You are taking me to the Mura Convention Center,” Kat stated with particular emphasis. “Then you’re going to wait five minutes in the car and if I don’t come back, you are going home.”
Sadler lifted his hands from the controls. The automatic hoverpilot kicked in and the aircar began to drift to a stop. “Oh, then I guess we’re not going anywhere,” he told her stubbornly. His peevish look softened and he explained, “Kat, no matter what’s happening to you, I’m in your corner. I’m not going to abandon you even if that means we both go down fighting.” He reached to her shirt and pulled her closer. They met halfway in a deep kiss. Sadler broke the contact and looked intensely into her eyes. “I want you in my life, Kat, and I’ll fight whoever I have to in order to make that possible.”
Kat felt her resolve melt away. More than anything, she wanted him at her side. She reached for her bag and opened the top. “Luckily, I have two guns.” She tilted the satchel to give him a clear view inside it. “Collected from the first disposal team I met last night.” Her words shocked her. That’s what it was, a disposal team. My God, that’s what we called them. Her stomach twisted with realization. I was part of it. I was a member of the Society.
Sadler’s hands were back on the controls. “So what’s the plan? And maybe you can fill me in on some details? Why does a group of hitmen want to kill my best dryman?”
Kat let the bag fall between her feet. “I’ll tell you what I know. It’s not much.” She explained waking up in a dark, muddy alley in the middle of the night with no recollection of who she was. She briefly recounted her first week, before they met: Rat’s alley, the preacher, Maggie Reynolds, her trips to the desert and finally, their first encounter at the hospital courtyard. She talked about seeing events in her dreams or once when she was drunk, like Rat and Starlet together, Lambert at the casino and the second disposal team talking with Reynolds. Kat described the phenomena with the muggers’ knives, escaping the mine collapse with the large boulder and finally, her actions with the first disposal team.
Sadler remained silent through her entire account. If he had doubts about corporate hitmen or the supernatural events seemingly triggered by her doing, he refrained from voicing them. His focus was solely on understanding her past without judgment.
When Kat finished, she said, “It’s not too late to drop me off. You don’t have to get involved.”
“I’m already involved,” Sadler protested. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and smiled. “And that’s exactly where I want to be.” The smile grew wider. “Okay, so my girlfriend may or may not be a corporate spy and she can magically make things disappear,” he stated sardonically. “That’s a good thing, right? I mean, that’s one in the plus column for us. Now sure, that same corporation wants you dead and maybe they’ll kill me too so that’s kind of a bummer but hey…” He looked at her again with a devilish grin. “At least you’re really hot. I mean gorgeous hot.” His eyes swept over her and the hunger in them made her weak. “I’m sorry. I believe you but it’s also almost unreal.”
“I know exactly how you feel.”
Sadler shook his head as confusion set in. “So if this is really happening, why would this ‘Society’ decide they want you dead?”
Kat hugged herself and her eyes searched the night sky as if the answer might appear. “I don’t know. The most obvious explanation is that our interests no longer align but that’s not very helpful. I don’t know what the Society is but the more I think about it the more the
impressions I get tell me that it’s something very dark.” She thought of the last two weeks before continuing. “I don’t know how I was involved but I’m not that person anymore. I’m proud of who I’ve become.” She looked down at her clothing again. Her shirt bore no logo. Nobody owned her. The clothes were hers, earned through hard work. She suddenly felt very pleased with them. “I might be a destitute pauper but I’m a good person now and even if all my memories return, I’m never going back.”
Sadler eased the throttle and elevated the nose of his car. It slowed and he looked down to the streets. The convention center below was a squat, two-story building at the edge of the business district. The façade gleamed a clean white with large windows near the front entrance. Part of the second story seemed to be divided into smaller rooms but the majority of the building was obviously devoted to an enormous, two-story auditorium. The marquee at the front welcomed executives from “Semicorp.”
Sadler let his aircar drift by innocuously. “There’s the Mura Convention Center. It looks closed. Wait, I see a couple people at the front doors.”
Kat strained for a better look. “I think this is the right place. We can’t go in the front though. They’ll be armed.” She was certain of it. Options sorted through her mind and the corners of her mouth turned up confidently. “Besides, there are better ways in than the front. Can you land us in an alley near the back?”
Chapter 32
The turbines wound down as Sadler set the brake. He ran through the shutdown sequence, ending with the forward and rear batteries. Once the engine died, Kat opened her bag and offered him a pistol.
“Do you know how to use it?” she asked.
Sadler stared at the gun. “I guess this is the part where I admit that I’ve never held a gun in my life.”
She pushed the weapon into his hand. “Well, now you have.” She tilted the gun to one side and pointed. “That’s the safety. Thumb it up and you see the red, glowing dot. Red means danger. It means ready to fire.”