It dulled the pain in my wrists though. I pushed as hard as I could with my legs. Finally, the plastic tie slipped a few more grooves.
I relaxed my legs. I breathed in.
The warm pulling, sucking around my head told me I’d been hauled back out. Not a moment too soon.
I coughed and spluttered. Tried to gulp in some air in between spitting out half the lake. I could feel the water somewhere in my chest. It wouldn’t move. The coughing and retching hurt and didn’t do much to help. Each in-breath caused the ragged coughing to erupt all over again. The heavy rain made things worse.
‘Where is it?’
I was all out of witty comments. I just wanted to reach over and crush his head. Once I could breathe properly again.
Little Dick glanced at the bouncer.
‘Wait!’ There was no way I could survive another bath, and having my hands free meant nothing while I was chained to a giant hook. ‘Wait.’ Little Dick held up his hand. The bouncer waited.
‘Yeah? The water washing the stupid out of you?’
I slipped the plastic tie off my wrists. Tried not to grimace at the pain. I could feel the blood running up my arms. It had a different feel to the water. I knew the feel of blood.
‘I can’t tell you where “it” is, because I don’t know what “it” is.’ I slid the plastic tie into my back pocket. If he saw that drop into the water, I was done. ‘But I can tell you: I’m going to kill you, Little Dick.’
His nostrils flared. The anger fuelled another humourless grin and an extra hard punch. It hurt like hell. But it was what I’d hoped for.
I used my hands and my head to extend my backwards swing as much as possible.
‘This could have been a lot easier, Jack,’ Little Dick shouted over the pounding rain. He signalled to the bouncer. Time to die.
I pushed my head forward and fixed my eyes on his. My forward swing sped up.
‘You remember that death w—’
The moment I was in range, I brought both hands around to my front. With one, I grabbed hold of Little Dick’s drenched hair. I pulled hard as I brought my other fist into his face.
As his nose cracked under my fist, I reflected on how much I hated violence directed at me. And how much I hated Little Dick Webster.
The bouncer didn’t have time to stop himself. Before his brain had caught up with the proceedings, he’d pulled his little lever. The hook plummeted. I plummeted with it. Little Dick plummeted with me.
I’d taken a deep breath. He was still screaming in pain and rage. My backwards momentum had pulled him under me. When he hit the water and slowed, the top of my head crashed down square into his face. It hurt me, but it knocked him out.
I grabbed hold of him again before he floated out of my reach. I could feel the bouncer winching me up again. With the weight of Little Dick too, it was taking him longer. I pulled the unconscious shit towards me. Reached inside his jacket. Nothing under either arm. Panic lurched through my stomach. Nothing at his hips. My only hope was quickly fading. I reached behind to the back of his fancy cream trousers. There it was.
Little Dick was suddenly awake. He writhed and lashed about him. It was too late for him. I pulled the gun from his belt and shot him anyway. The gun wasn’t as fancy as I’d have expected from Little Dick, but I guessed it needed to be nondescript in case he lost it at a crime scene. At least it was waterproof.
The concussive effect pushed Little Dick away from me. The heat of the gasses around my hand was uncomfortable, but the least of my worries. My air was running out again, but that also wasn’t the problem. The problem was that the bouncer was winching me out of the water, and he’d almost certainly have his own gun ready.
I had a choice to make. And quickly. I could allow him to pull me out and then try to be the first to get a shot off. Or I could take a shot through the water at him. The bullet probably wouldn’t hit him, or do any damage if it did, but he’d let me go again. That way I could shoot off the chain and surface anywhere. Take him by surprise. But he could always shoot me through the water.
I chose the former. Fewer downsides. Or so I thought. I was wrong. As soon as I was above the surface, I took aim. But the water pouring down me went up my nose and into my eyes. I couldn’t see a thing.
The bouncer swore. I guessed he didn’t have his gun ready after all. I fired in his direction, but heard the bullet hit something metal. I felt weightless. I fired accidentally as I hit the water a fourth time.
I could just make out Little Dick in the murk below me. He stood on the bottom of the lake. It was a lot deeper further out, but here it was only twenty feet or so. Red plumed out of him like smoke from a signal flare. His eyes were wide and his hands were raised over his head like he was surrendering. I’d only shot him in the shoulder. He’d drowned.
I took aim at the chain. The bouncer would start shooting at me soon. I didn’t know if the bullets would still do me much damage through the water, but I didn’t want to find out. I squeezed the trigger, hoping my lack of air wouldn’t disrupt my aim.
I felt an unpleasant force on my feet. I started to sink. When the doughnut bubble dissipated, I saw that the chain was free of the hook. I reached to my ankles and unwrapped it.
By the time the chain was free, I was on the bottom of the lake with Little Dick. He stared past me, mouth open. Like there was something horrifying sneaking up behind me.
A small dark shape floated past my eyes. A bullet. I looked up. Bullets were floating down towards me. One tapped me on the head. Nearer the surface, I could see streaks now and then. The bouncer was shooting. He didn’t know I was free.
I pushed off the lakebed and swam as fast as I could towards the surface. I swam at an angle to get further along the bank from the bouncer, but I was desperate for air. It wouldn’t be much further than where he was looking.
The closer I got to the surface the less able I was to pull myself through the water. The less able I was to hold my breath. But then there was the rain, rippling the surface. There was the dim yellow lamp at the side of the jetty. A few seconds later, there was the air I craved.
Seconds after that, a click. I turned as quickly as I could. The bouncer ejected his empty clip, swearing as he did so. I raised my pistol and shot him twice before he loaded the second. He crashed heavily onto the jetty.
I struggled to the edge of the dock. Didn’t have the strength to pull myself out. I slid the gun onto the flat concrete where I wouldn’t lose it, and hooked my arm through a rusted metal hoop set into the dock wall.
SIX | CONDOLENCES
It was getting cold. I guessed it was only about two, but the temperature was dropping already. The rain was warmer than the air. If I lay completely still on the concrete, I felt a little warm. I’d eventually pulled myself out of the water, before my skin could turn to tissue paper. I felt like I’d been treading water for hours. Really, it was about ten minutes.
After a while, the rain slapping my face got annoying. I climbed to my feet. My toes were numb but the water in my shoes was warm now. My sodden trousers rubbed against the water-softened skin of my inner thighs as I approached the inert bulk of the bouncer.
His suit was shiny with the rain. His blood joined the excess water and dribbled off the edge of the jetty into the lake. I’d hit him once in the centre of his chest. The second bullet must have missed.
I compared the gun I’d taken from Little Dick to the one lying beside the bouncer. They were identical. I emptied the chamber of mine and put the bullet back into the clip. Then I swapped the guns. They were waterproof, but I didn’t want to risk it. I’d stick to the driest weapon. The bouncer’s gun had an empty chamber and only four in the clip he’d been about to reload with. He must have had a busy morning. That filled my weapon to capacity. Sixteen plus one. I cocked the gun and flicked the safety on. Quicker that way. Who knew when I might run into Webster’s men again? I couldn’t be bothered taking off and then readjusting the bouncer’s shoulder holster. I just stuck th
e gun into the back of my waistband. The cops had taken my belt.
Next, I checked the bouncer’s pockets. A vial of some pale blue drug. A comm device with a barely-clothed woman for wallpaper. His ID as a bouncer of club Web. Lastly, half a pack of unbranded cigarettes. I stuck one in my mouth and lit it with the bouncer’s ring, which doubled as a novelty lighter. I put the crumpled pack into my pocket.
Now what? The cops wanted me. They’d think I’d broken out of custody. Who’d believe that Webster had broken me out in order to beat me up and kill me? Webster wanted me too. He wanted something from me. Something I didn’t have. I didn’t even know what it was, except that the girl must have had it for Webster to think I stole it. Then there was whoever carved up the girl. Would he be looking for me too? He might have meant to get both of us. He might want to use my breakout as an opportunity to silence me. Make sure I couldn’t convince the cops there was someone else to look for.
I looked at the lake. Maybe Little Dick hadn’t been the one. I couldn’t make sense of it. If he’d cut up the girl, why would he be trying to get me to talk? Maybe he was moving against his own father and whatever the girl had was a part of it. So he had to make a show of my interrogation. Or maybe he had nothing to do with it. Maybe he was standing outside the club because he was waiting for the signal to break me out.
I didn’t have enough information. But I did know that I didn’t even get it as bad as the bouncer. If Little Dick had really wanted me to talk, he’d have done a better job than that. Maybe they just hadn’t finished. Too many maybes.
The bouncer’s comm rang. The tone was that of an ancient telephone. Like twenty small bells going off in sequence. I froze. It would be Webster. I knew it. He’d be calling to find out why his son wasn’t answering his own comm. To find out if I was dead yet. And if I’d talked.
Just like the rain earlier, and the blinking red light, the ringing brought back to my attention the peacefulness around me. That in turn increased my dread and panic. The fear that I wouldn’t make it through the day. At least two factions wanted me dead. One legally.
The comm trilled for the thirteenth time.
I could leave it alone. Webster would try again a few times before sending someone to investigate. He’d assume that his son and the bouncer were too busy making me spill my guts. Figuratively first. Then literally. It would take his people a little time to get here. If I sank the bouncer’s body, it could take them a while to work out what happened. I could maybe get back to the city before then. Of course, doing so gave rise to more problems. But they were the future me’s problems.
I could answer it. Webster would know right away that I was free. He’d guess his son was dead. He’d send people after me. I’d be on foot. They’d be in a car. Maybe several cars. They’d have guns full of bullets. I had sixteen plus one.
I answered it.
‘Why isn’t my son answering his communicator?’ It was definitely Webster. He said ‘tor’ instead of ‘ter’.
‘His comm’s a little waterlogged,’ I said.
There was a pause.
‘Mr. Mason. Am I to assume that my son is dead?’ He tried to say it as he would with anyone else, but there was badly hidden tension in his voice.
‘It would be a safe assumption.’
There was another pause. I didn’t want to let him get to the threats. If I didn’t let him vent his anger and grief, his coordination of the hunt for me might be impeded. Not by much. But anything would help.
‘Little Dick wasn’t tough enough or smart enough to deal with me,’ I said. I’d rile him up some more. Of course, if he did ever get his hands on me, each word now would make things worse then. ‘You should have left me in custody, Webster. You might still have a son. You might have made it through the week. But you brought me out here to die, Webster. And that makes me angry. Now I’m coming for you.’
I hung up. I wasn’t going for him. I wasn’t a complete idiot. Wasn’t sure why I said it. It had felt right.
I dropped the comm into the lake. No point taking it with me. It would be tracked. Who would I call anyway? The cops?
There was no need to roll the bouncer into the lake now. Just as well. Doing so would have probably put my back out.
The rain still fell from the grey sky. I didn’t think it would ever stop again. Not in my lifetime. It made the lake come to life in the dull haze. The area smelled rotten. I decided it was time to leave. Thinking of rotten reminded me that Webster’s men would arrive soon.
I looked around. Where could I go? Harem was the only place for about a hundred miles. I wasn’t about to try to walk to the next town. Which was mostly abandoned anyway. Around the lake were a few metres of waist-high reeds, then mud. I couldn’t hide there. At the end of the paved dock area stood a rotting wooden shelter. It only had two walls and a roof. It wouldn’t shelter me from the rain, let alone Webster’s goons.
I pulled my trousers up as high as I could and held them there with one hand. I didn’t want them to wear my thighs through to the bone. I started walking in the direction of Harem. I ignored the muddy path I’d been brought down. Pushed through the reeds instead. It was a mistake. Might as well have been a swamp. With each step, I sank to my ankles. Didn’t make any difference to my comfort. My shoes were full of water anyway. But it slowed me down.
A minute later, I was through the reeds and into the mud. That was even slower. I had to ball up my toes to stop my shoes being sucked off every time I lifted my feet. At this rate, I’d be about twenty metres from the lake when Webster’s goons arrived.
At least it gave me time to think. Think about what the hell was going on. I started with the girl. There was no point thinking about suspects for her murder. Little Dick was the only candidate besides me. Even he wouldn’t be stupid enough to kill someone Webster clearly wanted alive. Unless he was making a move behind the old man’s back, like I’d wondered. I’d have to find out more before I could pin it on someone.
The key was that breast. She’d definitely had two of them when I left the apartment. When I got back, one had been cut off. Why? I pictured her lying on my bed this morning. Her chest was heaving. Shiny with sweat. Uneven. It was her left breast. It had an implant. Or so I’d thought. But someone had cut that breast off. And it wasn’t mutilation. They were looking for something. The same thing Webster thought I’d taken. He’d hidden something inside a living person.
But what the hell could it be? While my mind mulled that question over, my eyes searched the grey haze for the mountains I knew were somewhere on the horizon. Webster ran some kind of mining operation there. Was it something to do with that? I couldn’t see how. Not unless he was smuggling diamonds inside his own barmaid. And that didn’t exactly make sense. Maybe if I knew what it was he was mining it would give me a clue. Problem was, I suspected the mining was a front for something else.
I couldn’t see the mountains through the heavy rain. But I could see something else when I turned back. A light. I dismissed the thought that it was Webster’s men. They’d be coming from his place to the south, way below the city. Besides, it was a single light and it didn’t seem to be moving. It was uphill a little way. Towards Harem. Was there a cabin or something at the side of the road? I didn’t remember there being one, but it had been a long time since I last came out here. I wasn’t paying any more attention on the way this time than I was then.
By now, I’d made it through the mud and onto the cracked black road. Webster’s men would find me a lot more easily, but I wouldn’t get anywhere if I stayed in the mud. I’d probably spot their headlights before they were close enough to see me. Unless they were smart enough to leave them off. It was still only the afternoon. The rainclouds darkened everything, but they could see well enough without lights.
I pushed my sodden hair back for the hundredth time. It kept falling back down to my forehead and channelling the rain straight into my eyes. Then I stopped. Something had occurred to me. There was no uphill. The road back to Harem
was flat. That light was in the air. Too high to be on a cabin. Unless someone had built a thirty-storey building in the time it took Little Dick to take me swimming, this was an aircraft.
The rain drummed the road. It slapped the mud on either side. Those were the only sounds. Now the only smell was of wet asphalt.
Was it the cops? They had a flyer. It only held together thanks to thick paint, but it could be that. Harem was pretty big for a colony city. It would take them a lot longer than this to put together a proper search. It didn’t make sense that they’d come out here to look for me. There was nowhere to run out here. Nowhere to hide. Maybe some smartass had said that’s just why they should look here. Because it would be the last place I’d think they’d look.
It was the last place I thought they’d look. It was the last place I’d have willingly gone, too. But it wasn’t them. I was sure. Again I wondered if it was Webster’s men. I’d assumed they would come in a car or two. No reason they wouldn’t come in a flyer. He’d surely own at least one.
It moved. Came towards me. The dark shape around the light became solid. It was a pretty fancy looking flyer. It wasn’t the cops. It wasn’t Webster. It was the UPSF. The hell were they doing there?
‘This is the United Planets Security Force,’ a voice boomed. ‘Remain where you are.’
No point trying to outrun a flyer. I hadn’t expected the cops to call in the UPSF to find me. Certainly not so soon. The agency had better things to do. Or so I’d thought. How had they got there so quick? I didn’t know anything about hyperspace, but I was sure it wasn’t that fast.
The flyer lowered to the road a few metres away. Its thrusters sprayed heated water over me. Not that I could get any more wet. As soon as the stubby landing feet touched the road, the side door slid open and two men jumped out. They both wore impressive armour emblazoned with ‘UPSF’ and pointed some pretty high tech weaponry at me.
Acts of Violence Page 5