Zoe cocked the hammer on the .38 and brought it up at Tunks.
“Hey, stop that bitch!” Tunks wailed, taking a step backward. “Duran, don’t just stand there, man! She’s pointing a gun at an Enforcer.”
“You better start talking, Tunks,” Duran said. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Tunks took another step back, then abruptly bolted through a doorway that led to the back of the apartment, leaving his hostage to sprawl on the tiled kitchen floor. Zoe responded instantly, bounding over the man lying on the floor and charging toward the door in pursuit.
“Help, please help!” the woman on the sofa screamed. “My husband!”
Zoe stopped and turned to look at her, then down at the man on the floor, evidently torn between chasing Tunks and trying to save the bleeding man’s life. Duran stepped forward and knelt at the man’s side, feeling for a pulse at his neck, and a moment later Zoe was by his side.
“We need to get pressure on the wounds,” she said. One of the children shuffled forward, bawling, and Zoe gently pushed him back. “Please keep the children away,” she told the woman on the sofa.
“Pulse is incredibly weak,” Duran noted. “Entry wound in the chest and one in the neck.” He glanced over his shoulder at the woman. “A lot of blood loss. Get some towels!” he practically shouted.
The woman hustled over to a cupboard and brought back a stack of white bath towels. Zoe placed her hands on the man’s chest wound and began to apply pressure, but the blood seeped through her fingers and continued to pool on the floor.
“What did he want?” Duran said as he shook out the first towel and pressed it against the man’s neck. “Tunks. What was he here for?”
“I don’t know,” the woman sobbed. “That piece of crap hong-eh came here every month and forced Jonnie to give him creds. I don’t know why.”
Zoe glanced at Duran. “Shakedown,” she said.
Duran nodded. “Yeah.” Looking back at the woman, he said, “Call the Infirmary.”
The woman regarded him helplessly. “They won’t come here. We don’t have the creds. Jonnie lost his job–”
“Just do it.”
The woman stepped away and did as she was told, taking a holophone from the table and making the call. She spoke briefly to someone on the other end as Duran and Zoe attempted to stop the bleeding, then returned and sat on the sofa, shaking, the children cradled in her arms. Zoe and Duran crouched over the man for a minute or two longer before Zoe eased back, a defeated look on her face.
“We lost him.”
“No,” the woman wailed, dropping down beside her husband. “No-no-no…” She circled her arms around his head and lowered her face to his, sobbing. “Jonnie!”
Zoe watched the woman helplessly for a moment, then her expression hardened and she reached out and gripped Duran by the collar, hauling him to his feet and pushing him away.
“Are you happy now?” she snarled.
Duran was taken aback. “What?”
“This man’s blood is on your hands, Alec.”
He took a step back, surprised by her ferocity.
“What the hell are you talking about, Zoe?”
She followed him, a look of fury on her face. “This is your fault. If you hadn’t tried to stop me, if you hadn’t delayed me, this could have all been prevented. I would have made it here in time to stop him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“An innocent man is dead because of you.”
“That’s bullshit–”
She shoved him angrily in the chest. “How many more of these assholes are you going to let walk away, Alec? How many more like Tunks?”
“I didn’t let anyone walk–”
“How many more like Knile Oberend?”
Duran’s jaw dropped and he looked at her, speechless.
“Yeah, I know about him, too,” Zoe said. “Saw the video feed with my own eyes while you were out to it. You had him dead to rights and you let him walk away. Another scumbag set free.” She smiled without mirth. “Good for you.”
Duran tried to respond, but couldn’t find the words to refute what she was saying. He thought of Knile falling through the Stormgates as the bullets from Duran’s pistol had dropped harmlessly to the ground, how Knile had made it through to the other side and escaped the Reach.
A horrible thought occurred to him.
She’s right. She’d dead on. Knile would be dead and buried right now instead of enjoying the good life off-world if only I’d had the courage to follow through on my convictions.
Zoe shook her head in disgust, then attempted to shove him in the chest again. He caught her hand before it reached him.
“All right!” He held her wrist tight and glared back at her. “All right. Stop. I’ll go with you.”
She scowled. “Huh?”
He released her wrist. “I’ll go with you. I’ll do what you want.”
Zoe’s fury seemed to melt away as quickly as it had arrived.
“Do you mean that?” she said.
“Yeah, I mean it.” He sighed. “Take me back to the hideout.”
20
Talia checked the time on her holophone once more and then stepped out into the sunlight that fell across the crowded street.
Ahead, the Reach loomed vast and ominous in the orange glare of the afternoon sun.
You made it, she thought. Somehow you got here.
It hadn’t been easy. Crumb and his men had been prowling around through the night and the morning as well, sniffing at her trail like hungry dogs. She’d seen them several times but managed to stay one step ahead of them on each occasion. Her knowledge of the streets had undoubtedly been the main contributor to keeping herself out of their grasp. Through her younger years she had been involved in many games of cat and mouse throughout the city, and she had developed some good instincts around avoiding capture. Usually the pursuers had been Enforcers, which was a somewhat different proposition to Crumb and company, but the rudiments of the game were still the same.
The problem was, these guys were not giving up. They were relentless, and no matter how much caution Talia used, no matter how well she planned out her movements, the time would soon come when she made a mistake. She would either slip up or her luck would run out. It was simple probability.
But now she only needed her good fortune to hold for another fifteen minutes or so, long enough for her to arrive at the safety of the Reach.
Glancing up and down the street and finding no sign of her pursuers, she got moving.
She figured that her destination probably had a lot to do with her ability to stay ahead of Crumb. The Reach would not necessarily be the first place they would have expected her to go. Given their false impression that she was Giroux’s whore, they probably would have considered Grove to be a more likely target in which she would seek sanctuary. Even now as she moved further away from the white domes of Grove, they were perhaps expecting her to double back at some point.
Once she was inside the gates of the Reach, back with Knile and Roman, she hoped this ordeal would be over. More than that, she needed it to be over. She was exhausted and her limbs ached, and she wasn’t sure how much more running was left in her. She’d caught a few moments of restless sleep in one of her hiding places during the night, but it hadn’t been nearly enough.
She continued to scan the faces of those who approached her, those headed away from the Reach as they departed for the day, but to her tired eyes they were now beginning to look like one big blur. She reached behind her, where the revolver was tucked into her belt, and traced a finger along the stock through her blouse.
She hoped like hell she wouldn’t have to use that thing.
There was a sudden ringing noise and she was instantly alert again. She snatched the holophone out of her pocket.
“Talia?”
Knile waited breathlessly for an answer. On the other end of the line he could hear shuffling footsteps, a rustling sound and the chatter of v
oices, but no Talia.
There was a close, breathy noise, then finally she spoke.
“I’m here. Sorry. Fingers aren’t working right at the moment. Almost dropped the damn phone.”
“You okay?” Knile said.
“Yeah. Just feeling the pinch. I’ll make it.”
“Are those bastards still on your tail?”
“Last I checked, yeah. How are things at your end?”
“We’re fine. Roman and I are on the ground floor right now.” He glanced across to where Roman stood in a white hazmat suit with a full-face gas mask covering his head. His face was unrecognisable beneath it.
“Are you ready for me?”
“Ready as we’ll ever be. I came up with a plan.”
“Oh god. Why do I get nervous every time I hear you say something like that?”
“Trust me. This is bulletproof.”
“Yeah? So hit me with your genius. How’s it going down?”
“Roman and I will be wearing hazmat suits. You should be able to spot us pretty easy. Look for the puffy white guys.”
“Right. That won’t attract attention at all.”
“Let them look. I don’t think anyone’s going to stop us with the load we’re carrying.”
“Shit. This is sounding worse by the minute.”
“Have faith, Talia,” Knile said, shooting a grin at Roman. “Now, you need to head toward Gate Twelve. That’s important. That’s where we’ll be.”
“Gate Twelve, got it.”
“We’ve found ourselves a few radioactive waste barrels that they use over in the reactor,” Knile said, slapping one of four bright yellow containers they had mounted on a cart. “We’ll wheel those over to Gate Twelve–”
“What the hell, Knile! You’re not endangering anyone, are you?”
“Relax, there’s nothing but water inside.”
“Okay. Good.”
“So we’re going to wheel these suckers over to Gate Twelve on the pretence of taking them outside. Listen carefully to this part, Talia,” he said pointedly. “When you see us talking to the Enforcers, you have to be close. Be ready to move.”
“What are you going to do?”
“The Enforcers will have to reconfigure the gate to make it wide enough for us to get through. While they’re doing that, Roman and I will create a diversion – say, pretending to almost spill one of the barrels, and that’s when you come through. You understand that you’ll have to force your way to the front of the line when this happens?”
“Yes.”
“Once you’re in, keep walking. Don’t look back. Head over to the northern end, toward the maintenance area, and we’ll come looking for you there.”
“But aren’t you taking the barrels outside–?”
“No. Once you’re through I’ll pretend to receive new orders in my earpiece, telling us to bring the barrels back inside again. That way we all end up on the right side of the gates.”
“Hmm. Yeah, okay. If you think so.” She sounded decidedly uncertain.
“Are you happy with all of that?”
“Well, it sounds good in theory–”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“I’ll trust you on it, Knile. What other choice do I have?”
“That’s the spirit,” Knile said, trying his best to sound calm and confident. “Now, we have to get these barrels moving. See you soon.”
“See you.”
He hung up and slipped the holophone back inside the suit, then pulled the gas mask down over his face.
“You ready?” he called to Roman, his voice reverberating inside the mask. The boy nodded and gave him the thumbs up. “Good. Let’s go.”
Knile leaned his weight upon the broad pallet truck that held the barrels, moving with exaggerated care to give the impression that it really was a load of radioactive waste that was being carted. Taking a number of twists and turns over the course of several minutes, they then passed out of the maintenance area and into the wide-open spaces of the Reach’s ground floor, where a constant stream of workers and vendors were moving about in all directions. Knile and Roman were given more than one odd glance, and several of those who had been headed into their path made obvious changes of course in order to give them a wide berth, their eyes fixed worriedly on the radiation symbols clearly stamped on the exterior of the barrels.
Knile lifted one hand and pointed. “There. Gate Twelve.”
They changed course and Roman lifted a hand to steady one of the barrels.
“What happens if this doesn’t work?” he said through his mask.
“Then we try something else.”
“What if they start asking me stuff?”
“Just stand there and look official. Let me do the talking.”
As they approached Gate Twelve, one of the Enforcers who was standing there caught sight of the two men in hazmat suits out of the corner of his eye and blanched noticeably.
“Hey, what the fuck are you doing?” he demanded, walking toward them and waving his hands in a mild panic. “This area is for processing of civilians only, you can’t bring that shit through here.”
Knile pulled back on the pallet truck and slowed its momentum, then brought it to a halt.
“Don’t you think I know that?” Knile shot back, adopting an irritated tone of voice. “This route is twenty minutes out of my way. I should be on lunch by now.”
“Turn it around,” the Enforcer said curtly. “Get it out of my sight.”
“No can do,” Knile said. “This exit is our only option.”
The Enforcer advanced menacingly. “I said get this shit out of here. Take it through the containment facility over at Eastern Pier.”
“Can’t,” Knile said, throwing up his arms, exasperated. “Damn elevator malfunction means we can’t get it through Corridor Ninety-Seven. We’re blocked off.”
He looked over the Enforcer’s shoulder, and through the gates he could see the dwindling line-up of folk trying to gain access to the Reach. The queue was always much shorter in the afternoon as the gates prepared to shut down for the night.
There was no sign of Talia.
“Then take it back to storage,” the Enforcer said.
“Can’t do that either,” Knile replied, turning his attention back to the man before him. “These barrels have been sitting around too long and the seals are wearing out. I have instructions to get them out of here today at all costs.”
“What?” the Enforcer said, staring down at the barrels in horror. “These things are leaking?”
“Yeah. What a damn mess, huh?”
The Enforcer backed away. “Take them back where you came from. Right now.”
“Listen,” Knile said reasonably, “you’ve probably already eaten a few rads in the time we’ve been talking. Why don’t we keep discussing it until your teeth fall out?” Knile crossed his arms and shrugged. “Fine by me. I’m wearing the suit.”
The Enforcer glanced back over his shoulder at the gate, then at the barrels again.
Come on, Talia. Where are you?
There was still nothing outside but a cluster of unfamiliar faces peering in to see what all the fuss was about.
“There’s a loader that’s going to swing by out there in about two minutes to take these away,” Knile said. “If we don’t make it by then, they’re going to be sitting around for a lot longer.” He glanced at a vacant space over by a nearby wall and pointed. “I could park it there if you want?”
The Enforcer’s resolve crumbled.
“Simmons,” he called, “reconfigure the gate. We need it widened to allow these barrels through.”
A female Enforcer looked up from where she’d been checking the ID of a newcomer at the entrance, uncertain.
“Uh…”
“Just do it, Constable. Right away.”
“Okay, Sarge. Whatever you say.”
Simmons left her post and began to tap on a terminal screen that was located nearby. A cluster of square panel
s in the gate began folding inward, providing an increased space through which the pallet truck could fit.
“There, go!” the sergeant barked, waving his hand at Knile. “Go!”
“Nice and gentle,” Knile said, easing forward. “We don’t want these to–”
He stopped, his words catching in his throat.
Out through the gate he could see Talia appear seemingly out of nowhere, shouldering her way through the queue. She looked frazzled and weary, with dark circles under her eyes and strands of blonde hair sticking out from the loose ponytail she’d tied behind her head. In fact, she looked as though she were on the verge of collapse.
But Knile saw relief in her eyes as she spotted the hazmat suits as well. Relief, and beneath the tiredness, a kind of delight.
“Hey, watch it!” the sergeant said as Knile began to veer off course. Knile pulled back on the handle to slow its momentum.
“Whoa, damn!” he called. He watched as Talia moved closer amidst the protests of the others in line. “Sorry about that. This thing handles like a boulder on a pile of marbles, y’know what I’m saying?”
“Pay attention, asshole!” the sergeant said.
Knile glanced at Roman, and the boy nodded surreptitiously. It was time for the diversion.
“Wait a minute!” Knile called in mock panic, and everyone seemed to freeze. “What the hell is that?”
“What?” the sergeant said, glancing around wildly.
“That barrel. It looks like the lid’s come loose! Did you touch it?”
“Fuck no, of course I didn’t touch it!” the sergeant yelled. Simmons and the other Enforcer on the gate now had their eyes glued to the men in hazmat suits. “Get this piece of shit out of my goddamn gate before our toes start falling off!”
Suddenly Roman lurched forward and stopped just short of the gate, startling the Enforcers around him.
Roman, keep it cool, Knile thought angrily. He reached out to grab the boy, but then he heard a muffled scream and looked out through the gate.
A man had grabbed Talia by the hair and was hauling her backward, away from the gate. She let out another cry of pain as he wrenched her again, almost pulling her from her feet.
Landfall (The Reach, Book 2) Page 14