by S. J. Higbee
I hauled my veil off, feeling like I’d been punched in the gut. “One of these fine days, you and me – we won’t keep saying good-bye.” I was in his arms and kissing him. A lethally sweet reminder of all I stood to lose. We broke apart. It was too much. I was dizzy with hurting over all the might-have-beens and long wasted years apart.
“Whatever you do… whatever it takes – you keep safe. You hear me?”
I looked up into his blazing blue eyes, drowning in their heat, and nodded. “You, too,” I managed. “I love you.” There. I’d said it. The words I’d managed to keep caged during our wonderful lovemaking had finally escaped.
“I know,” his voice buzzed with emotion. “I’ve always known. Just spent too damn long cowering from what that meant. In the end… wherever it goes, it’s worth it to be with you. So stay safe.” He tightened his arms around me. “You hear me? I don’t want to lose you, again! Because I love you, too. Always have.”
I got to hug all the boys. Even Jake, who stuck his hand out for me to shake – then reached for me, and held me fiercely, whispering in my ear, “The others don’t properly remember all you did. But I do! And I’m glad you got to escape.”
“Take care. You’ve grown up into a fine man,” I said, hoping it was the truth.
And finally Cerk was in front of me. Another fierce hurried hug. “I’ll do my best. Just know it mightn’t be good enough,” he muttered in my ear.
Someone has done a major number on him. I held him tightly. “It’ll be fine. Trust yourself. And if you have to run – take them with you. Till they’re safe.”
He pulled away. “When I first saw you, after learning who you really are – I remember thinking how small and skinny you looked. How you must’ve been some kinda sockpuppet. Till I got to know you.” His grin lit up his face. “And now – I’m thinking those mercs must’ve wondered what hit them a few months down the line from when you took over. Cos you surely know how to seep under a body’s skin.” And with that, he was gone. Out the back entrance, alongside Luke, who was still upset.
While the other boys surged after them, lit up and excited at the prospect of the adventure, with Wynn and Jake bringing up the rear. Wynn, once again veiled and carrying Baby Jessica, turned back once for a long second. And then, his robes swirling around his legs, swung back and disappeared through the door, leaving me feeling as if my heart had been ripped from my chest. Wondering if I’d ever see him, or the boys ever again.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
The explosion slammed me onto the floor hard enough to make my suitshield flare red. The gritty air tasted of burnt bricks and the singed-air stench of maser cannon. Despite the ringing in my ears, I could hear all too clearly the Dreggers’ triumphant howls as they swarmed through the hole they’d blown in the back of the building.
So much for those blastproof doors and shutters Zanga and his crew spent the last day and night installing… This thought skittered through my head in amongst a torrent of unwanted memories. Of another explosion… of lonely long hours trapped in the bowels of a wrecked house… of calling to Wynn, who didn’t call back…
Hey Lizzy! Don’t you go trancing off down Memory Lane in the middle of this battle. Eddy plays sneaky – for all he’s turned up as planned… Jessica’s warning was timely. Because we were against the clock, if we were going to trap these scumsacs as thoroughly as I wanted, using the plan Mum and me had thrashed out.
I took a breath and belly-crawled behind the nearest pile of sandbags we’d stacked after Sarge, Chris, Eileen and Kal sauntered through the door, large as life and twice as welcome. Those sandbag shelters were one of Sarge’s improvements. We’d had the bags delivered in trucks, all swathed in dustpruf with the Cap shouting about not dropping such expensive artwork. It had been back-breaking work to heave them into piles around the empty showroom.
As I got my bearings behind the shelter, I decided it was worth every aching muscle…
Someone was yelling in a horribly familiar high-pitched squeal, “C’mon you cowardly prodders! We blew the fight out’ve them.”
Eddy! Right on schedule, the vile drosser. I got to my knees. Though my suitshield was now blinking green/orange and my back felt like someone had tap-danced all over it – there were no broken bones or sprains. Which meant I was good to go.
Even with infra-red and thermal imaging, visuals were poor due to clouds of hot dust created by the maser cannon. Fortunately, our suits all had auto-tags, so no one on our side – Mum, Lnard, The Cap, Sarge, Kal, Eileen, Chris and Zanga, our contractor, who’d all but genuflected at the sight of Sarge and begged to be allowed to take part – should get shredded by friendly fire. Emphasis on should… The one thing I’d learned during my time with the P’s was that most plans only last the first few minutes of any conflict. After that all bets are off, because the enemy has an irritating habit of behaving unpredictably once you start trying to kill them.
“Let’s see if anyone’s alive enough to play with,” Eddy’s voice was thick with bloodlust. There was a scattered yowl from the dregs clustered behind him and one fuse-brain let off his weapon into the darkness.
Hatred for my unspeakable brother surged through every fibre.
“Prod it! Stepped in some guts.”
I sighed. And there it was – the first of our plans heading over the event horizon. After studying the vids of Hawking, whatever Norby had dosed his followers with had left them bloodthirsty. Literally. Many of the crazed Dreggers had slurped at the blood of their victims, coiling ropes of entrails around their necks and… suffice to say it was vile. So Sarge suggested we hang a couple of pig carcasses on the walls. Either they’d explode when Eddy punched his way into the building, or we could fire off a shot and blast their remains around the place as a distraction, hopefully side-tracking a few crazed followers. However judging by the disgust in his voice, these scumsacs following Eddy were more or less clear-headed, and certainly not going to roll in or slaver over the guts we’d thoughtfully provided. Though the notion of bloody slaughter seemed to be revving all Eddy’s engines.
“Where? Lemme see – might be one’ve my bruvs.” Judging from his wheezing, Eddy hadn’t shed any of the weight he was carrying. Or maybe the dust was getting to him. Hopefully he’ll choke on it.
I edged towards him, my gun drawn. Determined to get to him first. No one else was focusing on him – taking Eddy out was down to Mum and me. Though Mum had some lame-brained notion of subduing him till he could be arrested. Which was why I had to get to him before she did.
The double-ratchet of a gun snicked far too close to my right. I dived to the ground and rolled, as the blast ricocheted off the floor next to me, activating my suitshield. I grunted – a reflex sound. The dregger lowered his weapon, peering through the murk and edging forward.
I allowed a whimper to escape, while tightening my grip on the gun.
“It’s blacker’n a whore’s heart, can’t hardly see to finish him off.” He walked towards me, evidently convinced he’d wounded me.
In case he had any further doubts, I gasped, “Please…”
When the lame-brain got sufficiently close, I grabbed the barrel of his weapon with one hand and yanked it away from me, while bringing up my own gun and blasting him at pointblank range. His weapon stuttered into the ceiling as his fingers jerked reflexively. What was left of him, now his head was a shredded ruin, took a couple of staggering steps before he toppled over. It was a struggle, but I managed to twist his gun free of his spasming hands and jump to my feet. I grinned in the dark as I shouldered his weapon. Yeah! Take that for Hawking, you piece of filth!
Looking around, I saw several dreggers break away and head back through the gaping hole out into the night. Where, hopefully, they’d be mopped up by the Cap and a bunch of his parishioners who, he assured us, were handy with weapons and panting for the chance to use them.
Pumped with excitement, I made a break for the pile of rubble only a handful of feet away from where Eddy was stand
ing peering intently in front of him. Though he was partly obscured by a chunk of the wall that had been flung forward. Following his line of sight, it looked like someone was trapped under the wreckage. A leg was twitching…
It has to be one of us! I shivered as the realisation washed through me like a bucket of iced water. No wonder Eddy had made for that particular spot – he had a talent for sniffing out when someone was defenceless and hurt.
“Oo, what have we here?” As he bent down, intent on his vile sport, I could now see him clearly. Typically, though most of his followers were wearing little more than camo-gear, and helmets, Eddy was fully kitted out in one of our topline suitshields. Complete with P’s logo. Drosser!
I drew my weapon and lined it up for a headshot all set to press the trigger. Goodbye bruv…
Mum stepped between me and him. “Hi sweetheart.”
He spun round, only a handful of feet away, so I got a good look at his face through his helmet visor as the dust was now starting to settle.
“Mum?” He looked at her utterly surprised, as if he’d been gut-punched.
“I want you to call this off, son. Before anyone else gets hurt. Give up and get the help you need.”
Nononono! I stood up, realising I’d been tricked. Because now I looked again – there was no twitching leg, no wounded victim. This must’ve been some scuzzy setup she and Sarge arranged – double-crossing prodders, the pair’ve them! They’d known Eddy wouldn’t be able to resist someone wounded and helpless. And then intercepted me, so I couldn’t get to him first.
Which was when I realised I’d been yelling, “Nononono!” at the top of my very loud voice.
Eddy’s ripped hurt look morphed into a fear cringe as he started backing away.
Yeah, you should be afraid! I launched myself at him – and should have landed cleanly on top of the drosser, knocking the wind right out of him. Except that as I left the ground, Mum stepped in and grabbed my arm. Which didn’t stop me, but twisted me round so that I fell short and awkwardly on my side.
I barely had time to register the enormity of her betrayal. Because I was now the one trapped and winded on the ground, with Eddy on top of me all set for the kill, having savagely twisted the gun out’ve my hand.
“Eddy! Don’t kill her! If you have a scrap of love in your heart for me – don’t do this thing!” Mum was screaming, batting at his back.
He ignored her, his piggy eyes gleaming through the goggles as he squeaked, “See? When it comes right down to it – it’s me she loves best!”
I laughed. A harsh choking sound that hurt my throat, as his hands around it tightened. “Always, you crock of cycler-crud! What makes you think I don’t know? Oh, she made the right noises ʼbout me. Even fooled the Old Man, who reckoned I was her favourite. But I knew she kept on my right side cos I made myself useful…” Words burst from me. Words I’d kept dammed inside since forever. Words that would stop Eddy immediately killing me. Words that would encourage him to savour his triumph that she’d chosen – and it wasn’t me. Again.
His grip around my throat eased. Though he was still sitting across my chest and great tub of lard that he was, I knew I wouldn’t be able to flip him off quickly enough to get to my knife.
“When you brained poor little Tibby with a brick and I hit you for it – d’you know I was shut up in my room without proper food for a week cos I wouldn’t say sorry to you?” I was now laughing so hard tears were pouring down my face. “And… this’ll crack you up. Even at six years old, I’d figured that if she’d cared half as much for me as she cared for you, she would’ve figured you should’ve said sorry to me, also…”
He punched me. If I hadn’t been wearing my helmet, his heavy gauntlet would’ve smashed my cheek and jaw. As it was, the blow had me half stunned and giddy – but not necessarily as dazed as you’d think. I’d grown up being regularly slapped and punched about the head and face, so was reasonably accustomed to the sensation. I sucked my split lip, the copper taste of blood sharp on my tongue.
“I was a baby!” he screamed, spittle flying out of his mouth, shaking my head and shoulders so I bounced against the floor, making me very grateful for the suitshield. “You witchbitch! You were always beating me up! You trained the others to turn on me—”
“Hah! Next you’ll be claiming it was me that showed you how to burn and break the toes of your little brother – you sick prodder!” I screamed right back at him.
Lizzy, you need to stop acting like a fresh-smacked toddler! He’s wearing a P’s suit! Use that to get the upper hand, howled Jessica.
“Yeah!” he roared, his voice tear-cracked as he opened his visor, “that’s what my sike reckons. He reckons it’s all down to you that I’m the way I am!”
I thought through the risk – and decided it was worth it. If I don’t do something, he’ll kill me, anyhow. So I retracted my helmet visor. “Oh, Eddy,” I breathed, “I’m so very sorry.”
He spat in my face.
Don’t you lose control now – you hear me, Lizzy? Act like it never happened…
As his vile spittle cooled on my skin, stinging as it seeped into my split lip, I managed to ignore it. “Forgive me, bruv… I see now – all of this – it’s my fault.”
His helmet bobbed as he started crying. Great gulping sobs, while his grasp on my throat loosened.
I slowly freed my hand and raised it to stroke the side of his helmet, so very gently. Hoping he wouldn’t think there was any threat. Though weeping like a whipped child, he seemed beyond worrying about the danger I posed.
“Poor, poor Eddy,” I crooned. “There was never enough love, was there? The others – they coped cos of each other. But you… It must’ve been a truly lonely place to be you.”
He sobbed. “It was! Oh Lizzy, it was! If only you’d been nice to me! You cared for the others. But you never, never were kind to me – not once…”
Which was when my fingers snagged on the P’s logo on the side of the helmet he was wearing. And what he probably didn’t know – it being stolen property – was that there was a quick-release gismo hidden inside the logo, designed to free injured soldiers from their suitshields. I pressed it.
Eddy was clever, I’ll grant you that. However he was never the quickest on the uptake. If things around him shifted unexpectedly, he took a while to catch up. So, he was still floundering – trying to figure what had happened as his suit powered down, peeled apart and his helmet snicked open. Because, instead of immediately shifting into defence mode, he just stared at me, his tear-blotched face pulled into an ugly grief rictus.
I threw a jab and smashed his nose. I’d broken it some years ago with my knee and he’d needed a fair amount of regen to reconstruct it.
He screamed – a high-pitched skirl of pure agony. If he could’ve thought through the hurt, he might still have prevailed. But two things were in my favour. The first was that Eddy never handled pain very well. And the second was – he was right. I regularly beat him up when we were children. Whenever I could get away with it, in fact. And though he occasionally tried to fight back, he hardly ever won. Unless he lay in wait. Or attacked me while I was sleeping – and even then he often came off worst. So once I really hurt him, he knew he’d lost.
As did Mum. She wailed. A terrible, broken noise. The sound of a heart breaking. The sound she hadn’t made when it looked as though Eddy was about to murder me…
I had time to close up my helmet, while he flailed about and bellowed, the look on his face disbelieving. Desperate. Beaten.
It was the work of a moment to overpower him, so that I was the one kneeling on his chest. He tried battering at my face and shoulders, but with my helmet and armoured suit still working, it was an annoyance, nothing more. Even so…
I placed a finger on his smashed nose. “Stop that. Now.”
He did. “Please… please, Lizzy… Don’t…”
“I know it hurts. But you can’t be allowed to go on breaking people the way you do. Goodbye little bro
ther…”
And while he was staring up me, fear and heartbreak in his eyes, Eddy Killer Wright – kittenkiller, psychotic torturer and despoiler of SS Hawking – suddenly grinned as an arm snaked around my throat, while the other grabbed my hand and levered it up my back, forcing me up off Eddy’s chest and onto my feet.
Meantime, Mum knelt beside Eddy. “Don’t you fret, my boy – I won’t let Lizzy kill you…’ her voice broke.
Relief crawled across his fat face as I started to struggle against the drosser holding me, cursing that once again, Eddy would be let loose to continue to wreak havoc.
Arms tightened across me like iron bands as the suit’s strength kicked in. “Belay your wriggling!” growled a familiar voice in my ear as Sarge added, “She’s saving you from having to kill your own brother.”
“Mum!” bleated Eddy. As if he hadn’t come all this way to tie her up, torture her and watch her die in slow agony. “I knew you’d come through for me.”
“I have, son. I’m going to fix it so that you don’t have to face the howling mobs… or info-crazed journos… or a death chamber…” her tear-thickened voice trailed off.
“You’re the best,” whined Eddy. “Just lemme up—ˮ
Something in her expression stopped his chatter, though as she had her back to me I couldn’t see her face. I heard her answer though.
“I can’t do that, darling man.”
Darling? He’s a monster responsible for thousands of deaths! He’s travelled all this way to kill her – she’s no business sobbing over him.
“Know that I love you – I always have…”
“Mum… Let me go – please!” he wheedled. Just like he always used to.
Fury poured through me in a hot sickening wave. He’s gonna get away with it! I may have yelled. It’s something of a blur. I didn’t see her reach for her weapon – it just appeared in her hand.