Acts of Violence

by Ross Harrison

  As I was about to turn to the bike, a fist swung out through the flyer’s door and hit me in the mouth. I took a couple of steps back but slipped in the mud and went down. I dropped the gun too. Squeezed the trigger first, but the safety was still on.

  The guy who emerged from the cover of the shuttle and stepped into the mud made me freeze. I didn’t recognise his face, but I did recognise his buzz cut. Bleached blonde.

  I recovered quickly from my shock and scrabbled for the gun. Running out of ammo seemed to be a common occurrence with this guy, since he went for it too. He kicked at my hand and ducked down to grab my gun. I slapped him. I felt stupid doing it, but it’s surprising how sore and disorientating a slap can be. Especially one to the eyes when the slapping hand is covered in mud. Besides, he was just out of reach of a decent punch.

  As the guy staggered back, a gunshot popped somewhere close by. A ding against the side of the flyer told me it was aimed at me. Or us. I looked around until I spotted one of Webster’s guys. Us. He didn’t care who he hit. He wanted us both dead. Another pop. Another ding. He was holding the gun in close at his side and clutching his upper arm. Since he was coming around the wall from the front of the mansion, I guessed he’d been hit in the off-worlders’ attack. Maybe it knocked him out. Maybe he’d hidden.

  The third shot splatted into the mud not too far from me. I abandoned my search for the gun, which the blonde prick had thrown when I hit him. Speaking of whom, I had no idea where he’d gone. He’d disappeared; probably around the other side of the flyer. As a couple more shots came dangerously close to cutting my heroics short, I dashed to the flyer, struggling not to slip, and threw myself through the doorway.

  Inside, I received a kick to the ribs. Mid-flight, I realised he must have taken cover inside too. I had my hands ready to take most of the kick. I held on to his ankle and used it to pull myself out of the doorway. Rolled under that leg, and my weight knocked the other from under him. He toppled over me. A bullet whizzed through one open door and out the other.

  We both jumped to our feet and he lunged at me like a football player. I turned so that we both hit the back of the flyer. Something came loose and dropped to the floor. It was a plasma rifle. I looked at the blonde. He looked at me. Only one of us would get it. Fifty-fifty odds. And I could hear squelching footsteps outside.

  He went for it. I ran. Gave him a shove as I did so. For the second time, I leapt into a full dive through the flyer door. The other one this time. Behind me I heard the bang of an automatic and the sizzling ‘tszau’ of the plasma rifle. Both were aimed at me. Neither shot landed.

  I hit the mud hard and slid a few feet. As soon as I could, I scrambled to my feet and ran again. Several shots from both weapons were fired in quick succession inside the flyer. Then quiet. I ran around the front and spotted my pistol. In the sudden quiet, my footsteps slapped noisily. Hoping the mud wouldn’t stop it firing, I grabbed it and aimed into the flyer.

  Webster’s guy stood in the doorway still. He wasn’t much of a threat though. In the middle of his back was a gaping hole. No blood gushed from it. The wound had been cauterised by the plasma’s passage. The back of his coat was scorched and charred. As I watched, a thin orange line slowly ate at the fabric until it faded to nothing. It took a few seconds, but eventually he toppled backwards. Hit the mud with a splat.

  Inside the flyer, I could see the blonde now. He was slumped in the back corner, the rifle lying beside him.

  I stood in the rain for a minute. The pattering of it on the dead man was deceptively gentle and soothing. I gave my shoulder a rub and a squeeze. It was sore. Van had done too good a job for it to have opened up again, even after all the jumping about. But it still hurt.

  The bleached blonde shouldn’t have been there. He hadn’t gone out the front door. There were only two ways out. I was having trouble with my mind. It seemed to be going too fast and too slow both at once.

  Now that the rain had washed off my pistol, I put it in my coat pocket. It tapped against something. The comm unit. I pulled that out and looked at it. Stuck it to the side of my head and brought up the image DeMartino had sent me. I studied the area he’d circled. Where I was supposed to meet him to free the girls. I was pretty sure I could work out how to get there. It seemed like a straightforward walk from where we’d met the gorilla.

  Next, I brought up the thing’s call log. There were only three. Two were unnamed, but the third displayed just the name I was hoping for. I reached out and tapped thin air where it said ‘call’. I noticed my finger was shaking. I wondered if it was nerves, adrenaline, or if I was actually afraid. Either way, this was a long time coming. And if I was right, it was the only way for things to work out.

  ‘Yeah, what do you want?’

  The voice was kind of wheezy. But strong.

  ‘Detective Lawrence,’ I said. ‘Seems like years since we last spoke.’

  ‘Mason? The hell are you calling me for? Where’s DeMartino?’

  ‘We’ll get to that.’ My legs started to shake. I felt a little lightheaded. But I was damned if I was going to have to sit down for a simple call. ‘I need to talk to you.’

  ‘Explain to me why I would want that more than the sleep you just interrupted.’

  ‘So you’re not on your way to Webster’s place?’ I was less of a question, more of a resignation. I hadn’t wanted to be right.

  ‘The fuck would I be doing there?’ I was losing him. Not that I ever had him.

  ‘I need to talk to you about Lucy.’

  Silence. I felt sick. I had no idea it was going to affect me like this. It was just a call. Just a conversation. Just words.

  Still silence. Lawrence was trying to decide whether or not he was going to take the bait. He was also setting his comm device to record. Just in case.

  ‘What about Lucy?’ he asked. He used his nice voice. Or as close to it as he could with me.

  ‘I think it’s about time I told the truth.’

  FIFTEEN | SET FREE

  ‘Go on, Jack.’

  He was doing a good job. The way he spoke made it seem like I was just a shaken victim of a mugging, describing the perpetrators.

  ‘You were right,’ I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. ‘I killed her.’ I could feel the tears in my eyes. Ten years and I was still seconds from blubbing like a little girl.

  ‘Tell me what happened, Jack.’ There’d been a hesitation. I could imagine the excitement he’d be feeling. Probably overpowering the confusion as to why I was telling him now.

  ‘There’s not a lot to it. I guess after ten years, you’re hoping for a dramatic story about how I descended into evil or some crap. The truth is a lot simpler. Boring. It was an accident. She tried to comfort me when I was kicked out of the academy. Told me something about how maybe it wasn’t right for me. I took it the wrong way. Like I wasn’t good enough to be a cop. I hit her before I knew I’d moved. Took her by surprise. She stumbled back and tripped. Hit her head on the sideboard. And was gone. I think she was dead before she hit the ground.’

  Lawrence didn’t say anything. I was looking into Lucy’s lifeless blue eyes. Staring up at me. The best thing that ever happened to me, taken away in an instant. By my own hand. It was inconceivable. She’d been there only a second ago. Those eyes full of sympathy and love. And now they were empty.

  ‘I loved her. More than…’ I didn’t know how to finish that sentence. More than what? Anything? It was true, but I knew saying it aloud sounded weak and meaningless.

  ‘Why didn’t you call the police? Explain what happened?’

  ‘It wasn’t like she fell because I kissed her. And I couldn’t let a load of men come into her house and carry her away. Take off her clothes. Cut her open.’

  ‘Why are you telling me now?’

  I took a deep breath and tried to bring my mind back to the present. ‘Like I said. It’s about time. But there is more.’

  ‘What?’ He couldn’t keep the hesitation out of his voice.
I was sure he wanted nothing more than to shout down the phone, ‘I’ve got you!’

  ‘I have DeMartino.’ It felt strange finally telling the truth about Lucy and then lying about that. ‘If you want him back, and you want me, you’ll have to come yourself. You’ve traced the call by now. I’d recommend arming yourself.’

  I sent through the image I’d been looking at. Then disconnected the call.

  Well that was that. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen now, but I knew my next move. I had to get to DeMartino. Help get those girls free. I forced myself to concentrate on that.

  I squelched back to the bike. Heaved it up and climbed on. On the way back, I stopped at the train’s wreckage. I could hear crying from the nearest car. It was lying on its side. There was no banging, but the girls probably knew there was no point. I doubted it would be the off-worlders trapped inside crying.

  I laid the bike down again and pulled myself up onto the top of the car. Or, technically, the left side of it. There was a sliding door halfway along that was chained up and padlocked. I bashed the padlock off with my gun, which prompted screams and more crying. After pulling the chain off, I set about trying to pull the door open without falling in. It wasn’t easy and I decided that as long as it was wide enough for them to climb out one by one then that was good enough.

  When I looked inside, the first face I saw in the shaft of slightly less dark darkness was familiar. It was the girl who’d stuck her fingers up at me through the glass floor. She looked scared but defiant. I didn’t like to think what would happen to a girl like that if these people were allowed to get back to business.

  ‘Come on,’ I said. Reached my hand down for her. She stared at the hand for a few seconds. Didn’t take it. ‘Okay, well, these guys have nearly finished mopping up Webster’s men. Then they’ll come back for you. Put you in cages. Do unpleasant things to you. Then sell you. So you just wait for them here.’

  I went to pull my hand back out, but another hand grabbed it. Out of the shadows stepped another familiar face. It was the beautiful waitress the gorilla had come here for. I heaved her out. She was heavier than she looked and it hurt my shoulder. But eventually, with the other girls pushing her up, she was free. She helped me pull up the next girl and then I decided they could take it from there.

  ‘Get to that flyer,’ I told the waitress and pointed. ‘There are more girls over at the shipping containers. We’ll get them free and then get you all out in that. There’s at least two guns on board, but I’d just shut the doors and wait if I were you. Can any of the girls fly it?’

  She stuck her head back through the door and asked, but shook her head when she stood up again.

  ‘Then you better hope your friend from the club keeps himself alive. Otherwise you’ll be walking back to the city.’

  I climbed back down to the bike. Pulled it up and got on. As I revved the engine, I looked back up at the girls. The waitress gave a little nod of thanks. Then turned back to help get the others out.

  There was still some gunfire in the distance, but a lot less now. My guess was the last of Webster’s men had been cornered somewhere by the last of the off-worlders. But whichever side won, there wouldn’t be many men left. So, really, whichever side won this battle, the off-worlders still won the war. They’d just send more people and take over whatever was left.

  The way back to where I’d left the gorilla was straight and easy enough. The bike slid around a little in the mud, but at least I wasn’t being shot at. I decided to leave it where he had. Walk the rest of the way to the containers. Perhaps I was being overly cautious, but I didn’t want to announce my arrival. I realised the comm device was still stuck to my head. DeMartino wouldn’t need the sound of a bike’s engine to tell him where I was. He could pinpoint me anyway. I didn’t need it any more. I dropped it into the mud.

  I didn’t know how far the walk to the containers was. Perhaps a half mile. It was an unpleasant half mile. The soft, squelching mud wasn’t easy to walk through even as shallow as it was, and the rain had soaked me through long ago.

  Lucy’s eyes were staring at me again. They hadn’t really left me since I’d been sat in that interrogation room this morning. Watching me. She knew what I’d done. What I was doing now. How it would end. How it had to end. I thought I could see how it would end too, but I didn’t want to think about it.

  Eventually I reached the containers. I wondered if Sixteen and the gorilla were still alive. Had they met up with DeMartino? By now, they should have freed the girls. Why hadn’t I seen them? I guessed there was no reason for them to come back out to where I was. They didn’t know there was a flyer on the other side of the train. Maybe they’d found another somewhere further in.

  I pulled the automatic from my pocket. Checked the clip and chamber. Sixteen plus one. I smiled at that. Some kind of poetry.

  I slipped between two of the rusting containers. Most of them were old. Some were rusted so badly that there was more hole than metal. Others were newer. I wondered what Webster used them for. Other than girls. There were no oceans to cross here. And there were easier methods anyway. Maybe he just got them cheap. I didn’t care.

  Hoping I wouldn’t be taken by surprise by Sixteen or the gorilla, I flicked the safety off. Gripped the gun tightly. It was even darker in the midst of the containers. I could barely see more than five feet. The rain didn’t help. It echoed off the hollow metal husks. Made everything seem deceptively peaceful. But it hid my footsteps.

  Any minute now, that peace was going to be violently broken.

  In the dark, moving as slowly as I was, it took about two minutes. The first sign I saw was a slight haze. It rose over one of the black rectangles ahead in a gentle, fuzzy dome. Then it moved about a foot. It was a flashlight. I worked out which way it was facing and went the other way around the container.

  The rippling puddles in the mud began to glitter as I drew closer. I heard a sniff. I’d reached them. The light creeping round the container wasn’t direct. The flashlight was pointed the other way. I took a deep breath and gripped the pistol even tighter. Then I slowly moved my face to the edge of the container. Peeked around it, trying to keep as much of my head concealed as I could.

  A couple of seconds was enough. I pulled my head back, unseen. Three men. Two of them wore heavy armour. There were two flashlights, in fact. Both attached to those men’s shoulders. The man in the middle was faced in my direction.

  I thought for a moment. Then reached inside my coat. Unclipped the badge from my pocket. Hoping the light metal wouldn’t immediately arc back down into the ground in front of me, I took aim over the container and threw it hard. A couple of seconds later, I heard a light tap. It seemed to have gone far enough.

  Around the side of the container, I heard movement. Squelching in the mud. The light fluctuated a little. I peeked around the side again. All three were looking the other way. Expecting someone to come from there.

  I looked up to let the rain splash my face for a second. Then took a deep breath and stepped out.

  The armoured men flanked the third. I shot the one on the left first. Because they hadn’t seen me, I was able to aim carefully. I hit him in the small open space between his helmet and neck armour. As he dropped, the other spun and dropped to one knee at the same time. I’d expected that, so it didn’t work. I used the time to aim properly again and shot him through the cheek.

  Two shots, two kills. I wasn’t a bad shot when bullets weren’t flying back at me.

  The first flashlight was buried in the mud, but the second shone at an angle into the air. Bounced off one of the containers and lit the twenty-foot-square open area. Perfectly illuminated the gun pointed at me. The fancy suit. The out of place cigar.

  ‘You made it,’ DeMartino said. ‘When you didn’t show, I thought something had happened. Good to see you’re okay.’

  ‘I stopped off at Webster’s mansion on the way,’ I said. Kept my gun level with his chest and stepped further out into the open. />
  ‘Oh? And what did Mr. Webster have to say?’

  ‘Not a lot. He was already dead. The off-worlders got to Holt. Turned him. He shot the old man in the back.’

  ‘You were right about Officer Holt, then. Dirty. Easy to turn.’

  DeMartino took the stubby cigar out of his mouth and dropped it in the mud. Under the pattering of the rain, I heard it hiss for a second.

  ‘So what now?’ he asked.

  ‘Now you answer a couple of questions.’

  ‘Oh. Playing detective again?’

  ‘Why is it that I saw a familiar face outside the mansion? A man who tried to kill me in club WET. A man who ran. A man who didn’t use the front door, so had to have gone for the back. Where you were. You remember telling me you killed him, right?’

  ‘Well, I thought it might seem suspicious if I told you I’d let him go. And I couldn’t very well kill a man who owes me six hundred credits from last week’s poker game, could I?’

  ‘This is just a guess,’ I said, trying not to let the anger overtake me. ‘But the UPSF teams aren’t coming, are they?’

  ‘No. That would be somewhat counterproductive to our taking over operations here, wouldn’t you say?’

  I took a moment to take a deep, steady breath and swallow the pricking heat back down.

  ‘You did a good job with their armour,’ I nodded at the dead men. ‘And the flyer.’

  ‘Good enough,’ he dismissed. ‘Good enough to fool backwater… That is, fine colonials such as yourself, who are sorely out of touch with modernity. You know, not even Lawrence thought to check my credentials with the UPSF. One call could have made things a lot harder for us. But we just turn up in a convincing flyer and show them shiny plastic ID cards, and they think their gods have landed.’

  ‘All this deception for that data chip?’

  ‘We couldn’t let Webster use it against us. We had to get it first, before he realised we were done with him. It can incriminate us. And besides, there’s a lot of valuable information on there we can use.’