by T. C. Edge
“Zander, that’s ridiculous. I can’t just chill out here when people are being killed out there. I’m coming too.”
“You don’t need…”
“I’m coming too,” I repeat.
He stares at me for a little while, and then glances at Kira. She smirks at the exchange.
“It’s fine by me,” she says. “Your sis can handle herself from what I’ve seen.”
I perform a grateful little bow in her direction.
“Thank you. Nice to know that someone believes in me.”
“Always,” winks Kira. “We girls have to stick together.”
Zander rolls his eyes.
“Fine, if that’s what you want. I just thought this soldiering stuff wasn’t for you.”
“Maybe it’s growing on me,” I say.
“Yeah, and growing fast,” Kira says. “Honey, the way you dealt with those Con-Cops yesterday…I’d say you’re getting used to it.”
“When in Rome,” I say.
Both of them frown.
“Rome?” asks Kira.
“Jeez, do neither of you know any history? It’s an old city across the sea. It’s just a phrase. Anyway, I’m just saying that, during war, I’ll be a warrior if I have to be. Needs must, I guess.”
“Good philosophy,” says Kira. “Big bro here enjoys it, though.”
“You do too, I can tell,” I say.
“Brie! STOP getting in people’s heads!” reprimands Zander.
“I’m not, I swear. Come on, it’s obvious that you both thrive on this stuff. I’m not judging or anything. You grew up with it, so fair enough. War needs people like you.”
Zander doesn’t appear to enjoy the intimation. Kira, on the other hand, appears all too happy about it. She’s to the manor born, trained to scout, spy, and kill. And she’s mastered all three.
“Right, well we’re taking that City Guard vehicle over there. It was just going to be Kira and me, but I guess you can tag along too as well,” says Zander.
He still seems slightly annoyed at me. Perhaps for last night, I can’t really tell. Or maybe it’s simply the fact that he operates better when I’m not around, not having to be concerned for my safety. Were I to quickly check his thoughts, I’d get my answer.
But no, I guess that’s off the table right now.
Certainly, though, the two super-hybrids like to operate either alone or in very small groups. While other squads set out in larger numbers, Zander and Kira, with me tagging along, head straight for our car without any backup.
I guess, given their power sets, they can work quicker as a pair, moving around the city at speed and covering far more ground than if they were burdened by others.
And, I suppose I fall into that ‘others’ bracket. While I have the same powers as Zander, I don’t exactly have his fitness or durability yet. I can tell immediately that this is going to be a long and tiring day.
We move to the car and step in. Kira slides into the backseat along with me. Zander sits up front and takes the wheel.
“Ready?” asks Zander from the front.
“Always,” says Kira, green eyes flashing.
And off we go to hunt and kill.
22
I spend the short car journey getting more information about any overnight developments. First, I question how the scouts that were sent out have gotten along.
“No feedback yet,” announces Zander, zipping along the roads. “We’ve lost contact with a few already. Signs aren’t good.”
“Lost contact? As in, they’ve been taken out?”
“Most likely.” His reply is deadpan, as if he expected it. Losing scouts during war is oh-so-commonplace that it doesn’t even warrant a raising of the voice. “It suggests that Cromwell is holing out in the REEF,” he goes on. “His Stalkers are probably wiping out anyone who gets too close.”
“So, an attack is out of the question then?” I ask.
“On the REEF? Yeah, that wouldn’t be a good idea right now. We’ve been there before, right? We know what it’s like.”
“So what is it like?” asks Kira. “I’ve never been out that way.”
“Like a stronghold,” I say. “Horrible place, and easily defended.”
“And not easy to attack,” adds Zander. “We’ve won our position here through trickery and secrecy more than anything. An all out strike isn’t in anyone’s best interests.”
“Sounds like you might want to negotiate?” I query. “You reckon Lady Orlando would go that far, given her past with Cromwell?”
“She’s a leader, and will do whatever is best for the people,” says Zander. “Whether entering into negotiations for a cease-fire is among them, I don’t know.”
“It’s mad, though, right?” says Kira. “Lady Orlando being married to Director Cromwell back in the day. Did you know that, Z-man?”
My brother shakes his head at the front, and his foot stamps a little harder on the accelerator.
“She never told me.”
I stay quiet. I’m probably the only person who actually knew, not that I want my twin to know that.
“She really kept that one quiet,” continues Kira. “To think, the leaders on either side of the war are old husband and wife. I mean, talk about keeping it in the family,” she laughs. “No wonder Lady O hates him so much!”
“It’s not about that, Kira,” grunts Zander. He’s being pretty serious today, more so than usual. I mean, that’s fair enough, but he just seems to be in a pretty rotten mood. “Lady Orlando won’t allow personal feelings to influence her.”
“I guess. But still…”
She looks at me and lifts her brows. I present a smile to say I’m on the same wavelength as her. We decide, secretly, to change the subject, given Zander’s apparent dislike of the current one.
“So what about Rhoth?” I ask. “He still being his unbearable self this morning, demanding we fight his war for him?”
“Nothing more on that,” says Zander flatly. “I only told you last night.”
“Yeah, well, things move quickly around here. Jeez, you wake up on the wrong side of the bed today or something?”
“Bed? What bed,” he says. “I barely slept at all.”
Ah, hence the awful, snappy mood. My insistence on coming on this Con-Cop hunt probably hasn’t helped either.
“Right,” I say.
Then the car goes silent.
We continue towards the gate, heading once more to the west. As we go, I begin chatting directly with Kira instead, just to ease the growing awkwardness in the car.
Mostly, it’s a running commentary on what we’re seeing out of the window that occurs. And there’s lots to see, with a whole host of civilians being marched along in groups, flanked by our men and some of the new City Guards joining our cause.
It’s a full on humanitarian crisis that’s going to require all hands on deck. That includes the civilian residents of Inner Haven, already helping clear the rubble, who’ll need to help house, feed, and water all the Outer Haveners now too.
Soon, perhaps, such terms will fade away. Outer Haveners. Inner Haveners. I guess the plan is to eventually scrap such distinctions and blur the lines between us all. Who knows, maybe even the general names we give ourselves will disappear. No more Enhanced and Unenhanced. Just people, whether ‘gifted’ or not, living as one big happy family.
Yeah, right. I’m not so naïve as to think that will happen.
Yet, the tide is definitely turning, as Rycard said. Whatever happens next, this city will never be the same again. And neither will the people who inhabit it.
As we reach the western gate, we find an ever-increasing glut of people. Pens have been set up just inside, beyond the gates and the large blocking trucks, in order to ensure that order is kept as the people are processed and integrated into the city.
It needs to be this way. Anything else would be too much of a mess, and by the looks of things we’re already being stretched to breaking point.
“L
ooks like Lady O’s speech had more of an impact than we thought it would,” remarks Kira. “Can we handle all these people?”
“We have to,” says Zander, rejoining the conversation after a little sulk. “We made promises.”
“Good thing we have City Guards joining up too,” I say. “So, Rycard said he’s been put in charge of them. What is he, like the new Commander or something.”
“Well, he doesn’t have a title like that, but yeah, in a manner of speaking. Lady Orlando thought he was best placed to integrate them, given his background.”
“Good idea,” I say. “Once he’s built up a big enough force, maybe it should be him who goes out and collects the people from the mines. Lord knows he’ll be happy to do it, given how Sophie and Maddox are there…”
“Afraid not,” answers my brother immediately. “The City Guard are sworn to protect the city, not go marching outside of it. If we decide to take action and form as escort for the mines, we’ll have to do it with our own men, or those who volunteer.”
“Yeah, and what’s the latest on that one?” asks Kira.
I’m glad it’s her, and not me. I can already sense Zander’s short answer coming.
“It’s in discussion,” he says, a little more softly to her than he might have done to me. “Pearson is keeping a close watch on the surrounding areas with the hybrids he has. There’s a good chance that Cromwell isn’t even aware of them. And if he is, he may or may not bother trying to reach them, not with his own resources being squeezed.”
I hope he’s right. How awful would it be for them to suffer that horrible journey through the wilds, only to be hunted down and slaughtered by a team of Stalkers.
But then, war isn’t fair. Death isn’t fair. I’ve learned that lesson several times already.
It takes a little while for us to navigate through the burgeoning crowd around the gate, so much so that Kira suggests we get out right here and continue on foot.
“We’d travel quicker using our Dasher powers anyway,” she says, before glancing at me. “Ah, maybe not.”
“Hey…”
“Ah, honey, no offence. You’re just as quick but just, you know, not as fit yet. You’d lose steam too quickly.”
“Yeah, hence us travelling by car,” says Zander. He says it in such a way as to give me absolute confirmation that he doesn’t want me along for the ride. “Anyway, we’ll go a bit further first. We’ll be starting in district 3 of the western quarter. Apparently there’s a load of them there.”
“And are they still mainly in the eastern quarter?” I query. “Last I heard they were all bunched up over there.”
“Lots are, yeah,” says Zander. “But pockets remain here and there. It should be a simple enough job. We’ll sweep through, street by street, and take down any we see. No hesitation, just kill them whether they fire on us or not.”
He glances back to me, as if suggesting I might, in fact, hesitate.
I assure him, in no uncertain terms, that those days are behind me.
“We might also run into some City Guards,” adds Kira. “Not all are as morally well-adjusted as those big ol’ Brutes you know. Lots are too ingrained into Cromwell’s philosophy and will try to keep hold of the streets for him.”
“And no hesitation with them either,” says Zander. “Anyone who doesn’t comply is our enemy, got it?”
“I got it, boss,” I say, a little snarkily.
Frankly, while I generally look upon City Guards as good folk, those who refuse to turn are perhaps too long gone for me. And, I have experience of those more sinister types too. I only have to think of the ones who escorted me to the REEF after my High Tower incarceration for that.
We move up through district 1 of the western quarter, heading straight for district 3 in the northwest. As we go, the streets take a new shape, even worse than they were the previous day.
The corpses that appear begin to rival what I witnessed in the northern quarter. And, worst of all, they seem to be predominantly civilian casualties, shot dead as they tried to make for the western gate.
The wreckages of cars are also prominent, many still burning and with the dead still inside. As certain points, I see gridlock, dozens of cars caught bunched up as they tried to weave their way towards Inner Haven.
Those that aren’t burning, and don’t entomb the dead, have been abandoned, the people choosing to brave the streets on foot and, most likely, return to their homes or any nearby shelter they can find. Along the way, I spy some people still hiding, individuals, couples, and little groups trying to sneak from alley to alley, work towards the sanctuary at the centre of the city.
We can’t stop to help them, despite wishing to. These streets have been cleared now, and they should have a free run for the gate. The distant chatter of gunfire, however, alerts us to the fact that nearby districts are still being swept, our men working through the morning to make them safe.
It’s such an odd turnaround, seeing all these Outer Haveners make for the inner city. As a kid, the idea of ever setting foot beyond the walls and venturing into Inner Haven was fanciful at best, and utterly absurd at worst. Now, what was a closed off portion of Haven, so rarely set foot by any of the Unenhanced, has become the beacon of hope they’re all trying to get to.
Soon enough, we’re crossing into district 3, not far from the border to the northern quarter, and Zander is pulling to a stop. He spots a family huddling in a dark corner, fearful eyes lit up in the shadows as they cower and try to stay still, hoping we don’t notice.
My brother raises his hands to show he’s a friend.
“Don’t be afraid. Are you trying to get to Inner Haven?” he asks, creeping gently towards them.
The father answers, standing nervously to his feet with his wife and two daughters behind.
“Yes…but the roads are too dangerous.”
“Why haven’t you returned to your home?” asks Kira.
“We don’t have one anymore. Some Con-Cops…they came and killed everyone in our building. It’s a massacre out here. I just want to protect my family.”
Zander steps further forward.
“Do you know how to drive?”
The man nods.
“OK, take our car. We don’t need it anymore. Head straight for the western gate. We’ve just passed that way and the roads are clear. Go fast, and don’t stop for anyone. Go…”
The father takes a moment to activate. Then, in a sudden rush and with a flurry of thanks, he gathers up his family and climbs into our vacant car. Zander gives him some brief directions, and they set straight off into the misty morning.
“So, I guess it’s on foot from now on then,” smiles Kira, flicking her pulse rifle from her back in a skilful, single motion, and setting her finger right to the trigger. “Let’s go hunting.”
23
The streets are, for the most part, eerily quiet.
Occasionally, the rattle of gunfire will signal some fighting in an adjoining district; usually coming in short spurts rather than prolonged engagements. Given our enemy, and their limited capacity as soldiers, I can only assume it’s them who quickly bite the dust.
We creep along in silence, utilising our senses as we go. Mostly, it’s Kira upon who we rely, her use of the Sight allowing us to scan ahead and observe the world beyond the reach of our ocular ability.
She sniffs the air, honing in on the specific scent she’s grown to associate with Con-Cops in particular. I ask her how she determines that, and she tells me it’s the material in their uniforms that give off the unique odour, something that no normal person could ever hope to smell.
Their pulse-rates, too, can be an indicator of their whereabouts. Normal people, she says, hiding up in their homes, will likely have raised heartbeats and rates of breathing. They well perspire more too, and give off other imperceptible signals that only someone like Kira could detect, even down to the electrical currents in their brain and nervous system.
Con-Cops, on the other hand, tend t
o have fairly steady heartbeats, unencumbered by stress or fear as they are. They perspire less too, and breathe in a more regular fashion. Naturally, over her many years of practice and training in the field, she’s grown extremely efficient at deciphering just who or what might lie around a hidden corner.
Like a pig hunting truffles, she leads us through the war-torn streets in search of our quarry, the signals growing stronger the closer we get. Within about ten minutes of leaving the car, she’s led us right towards a troop standing in wait at a quiet crossroad, eager to ambush the next unfortunate soul who might wander or drive right by.
Instead, it’s us who ambush them, moving into position so quietly and quickly that they don’t even know we’re there. With our pulse rifles fixed at an appropriate setting, we fill the misty air with lights of blue, fizzing and crackling straight towards them before they can react.
The crossroad gets a fresh coating of blood and charred flesh.
And we move straight on.
The morning continues in much the same fashion. Kira hunts, and we all kill.
It’s like shooting fish in a barrel, the Con-Cops rarely even able to lift their weapons before their trigger-fingers go limp and they hit the dirt.
To hybrids like us, they are a feeble adversary, hardly causing us to break a sweat as we work through the district, cleaning away any pockets of resistance we find.
Our other squads are likely to be having similar success, yet probably without the same level of efficiency. We base our strategy on tracking, stealth, and the element of surprise. Other teams with other skills will employ a more direct approach, something that becomes clear when a few more sustained periods of fighting reach our ears.
Of course, Kira is able to update us on all of that. Her hearing is so advanced that she can, if concentrating hard and focusing only on that particular sense, hear right across the city depending on the sound. So, while Zander and I can hear gunfire in the next district, she can quite easily hear it many miles away, and probably much further than that too.