Landfall (The Reach, Book 2)

by Mark R. Healy

  Talia was running, but she wasn’t sure if she was heading deeper into the complex or toward the exit. In truth, she wasn’t even sure which option she wanted to pursue anymore. There was every chance that Capper would have his people stationed in or around the workshop to gather up anyone who sought to escape, and that was a trap she wanted to avoid. On the other hand, if she wound her way deeper into the complex she might become lost in there, unable to escape at all. When the dust cleared, whoever came out victorious – Emil or Capper – would have her at their mercy.

  Between a rock and a hard place again, right Tal? she thought.

  Perhaps if she kept searching she could find another way out of here. She was sure that Skybreach would have at least one emergency exit.

  She tried to think back to her tour with Iris, but the woman hadn’t pointed out any exits to her. Talia thought she could recall one door in particular toward the southern end of the complex that might have led to a way out, and that was possibly her best shot. With that thought in mind she rounded the next corner and took a right, only to see Crumb coming at her from the other direction. He seemed as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

  “Well, darlin’,” he drawled, smiling grotesquely. “We finally caught up to you. And what a tasty prize you had in store for us.” He glanced around. “I’ll bet there’s some riches in here, huh?”

  She lifted the .22 at him, but Crumb ducked nimbly to the side and disappeared into an adjoining room before she could shoot. She heard him laugh disparagingly.

  “What’s your problem?” she shouted desperately. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

  “Because you’re our cash cow, bitch!” he cackled. His voice seemed to have shifted, as if he were moving position. “You’re sittin’ on somethin’ big and we know it.”

  “That’s bullshit!” she cried. She glanced around, fearing that he would come at her from behind. “You’ve had it wrong from the start.”

  He laughed again, but his voice was more distant this time. She felt exposed, unprepared to face him.

  Panicked, she turned and fled.

  She wound her way through the dimly lit corridors as the sound of gunfire wafted through from other sections of the complex. She wasn’t sure if Crumb was still following her, but in all likelihood he was. He’d followed her across the whole damn city, hadn’t he? Why stop now?

  She wondered what he would do if he caught her. Would he simply kill her, now that they’d found this place, or would he keep her around for his own twisted ends?

  Maybe it was fitting that it all ended with Crumb. He was the one who had started this mess, way back when he’d waited for her outside her apartment the day she’d set off to find Roman. If he hadn’t seen her and Knile entering Grove, maybe things would have turned out very differently. Maybe she, Knile and Roman wouldn’t have been forced to run into the arms of Skybreach in order to find sanctuary.

  Maybe Knile and Roman would still be alive.

  Stop running.

  Her legs kept moving, doggedly refusing to obey.

  “Stop!” she screamed at herself, and this time she did.

  She stood there in the corridor, panting, her fists clenched at her sides.

  Then she turned back the way she had come.

  Kill the bastard. Put an end to this.

  She raised the .22 before her and stalked forward. One of the members of Skybreach she had seen earlier, a young woman in a green blouse, was cowering in an alcove. Talia continued past her, now calm and focussed. Despite the mayhem that was going on around her, she finally felt in control. She knew what she had to do.

  Crumb leapt at her from a doorway on her right and she spun, but he managed to grip her wrist and force the gun’s muzzle toward the ceiling. They struggled against one another, scuffling in a circular motion and grunting with the exertion, and Crumb pressed his hideous pallid face towards hers. He leered as if he were enjoying the tussle.

  “I’m gonna lick you from head to toe,” he said, waggling his tongue obscenely.

  Talia dropped her weight suddenly, cartwheeling Crumb over the top of her, and she launched her boot into his stomach for good measure. He landed on the floor a short distance away with a loud oomph.

  Talia swivelled onto her knees and brought the .22 up again and took aim.

  “Now, now, darlin’, hold your horses,” Crumb sneered as he crawled off his back. He held up his hands. “Don’t wanna–”

  Talia squeezed the trigger five times, peppering Crumb’s chest and neck, and then he went down. He clutched feebly at his heart, convulsing, and then lay still.

  Talia got up and started to run again, not bothering to savour her victory.

  There was only one thought in her mind.

  Find the rest.

  Lazarus held out a hand to bar Knile’s path, then came to a halt in the middle of the corridor. He bowed his head until his chin rested on his chest, then exhaled deeply and closed his eyes.

  “What is it?” Knile hissed, glancing about apprehensively.

  “I need to pray.”

  Knile’s mouth dropped open. “You’re shitting me.”

  “Do not use such vulgarities in my presence,” Lazarus growled without changing his stance.

  “Come on, seriously? We’re up against a couple of the biggest badasses on the planet and you’re watching the back of your eyelids?”

  “I seek guidance from the Holy One,” Lazarus said irritably. “I need to understand what strategy they shall use against us.”

  “Well, I hope there’s not a line-up to talk to the Holy One–”

  “This process will pass far more swiftly in complete silence.”

  Knile sighed and took the hint, his eyes darting from one gloomy corner to the next as he pictured their pursuers appearing out of nowhere amid a haze of red. He couldn’t imagine what Lazarus might be thinking about, or to whom he might be praying, but in a moment the Redman lifted his head and nodded once. He began to walk away.

  “Did you get an answer?” Knile queried.

  “If we live, then I should think I did.”

  Knile stared after him, baffled. “And if we don’t?”

  Lazarus turned and pressed a finger to his lips, then wordlessly indicated to an adjoining corridor. He began to move quietly in that direction. Knile followed close behind him, ducking his face now and again to the tablet as he continued to probe at the Consortium network.

  They continued that way for another minute or two, and then Lazarus stopped again and cocked his head as if he were listening to something far off in the distance. He turned to Knile and was about to say something when the wall behind him exploded and another Redman came bursting through the plaster, knocking both Lazarus and Knile to the ground. Lazarus recovered first, gripping the Redman by the ankle and swinging him through the air before he could get a shot off with his pulse rifle. As Lazarus went after him, the Redman bounded to his feet and disappeared around the corner.

  Lazarus changed course, finding cover and indicating for Knile to once again get behind him.

  “I don’t believe my eyes,” came the mocking voice of the other Redman from the darkness. “Is that Aron Lazarus I see wearing the crimson? Is that you, Laz?”

  Lazarus made no reply.

  “If I remember correctly,” the Redman went on, “you were sentenced to Landfall. Isn’t that right, my friend? You don’t belong in this place anymore. You don’t belong in that armour.”

  “You never belonged in this armour, Scole,” Lazarus shot back. “You still don’t.”

  “Aw, Laz. You got me trembling in my boots, man.” Scole laughed. “Oh, where are my manners?” he added. “Sorry to hear about your bitch, Laz. I heard about it when she croaked in the Cellar.” Lazarus’ eyes seemed to positively glow with fury, but he held it in check. “Nasty business, man. Six Enforcers were tag teaming her, right? The last one to take a turn split her right in half.” The Redman made a disgusting wet tearing sound in his cheeks. Bes
ide Knile, Lazarus ground his teeth. “Not all bad though, Laz. I heard she enjoyed it right up till the moment she ripped in two.”

  Lazarus heaved to his feet, ready to explode, but Knile gripped him firmly on the arm.

  “Stop,” Knile whispered hoarsely. “He’s trying to get under your skin, make you do something stupid. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

  Lazarus nodded, then his eyes widened as he saw something behind them. He raised the pulse rifle and began to fire, and as the room began to disintegrate in a hail of blue fire Knile realised that the Redmen had effectively trapped the two of them in a meat grinder.

  Iris had only briefly mentioned Emil’s quarters during the tour, but Talia remember well enough to find her way back there now.

  Inside, she found both Capper and Emil with their backs to the door.

  This is just too good to be true, she thought with a grim smile. She raised the gun.

  “Sorry to crash the party,” she announced from the doorway, “but I think the three of us have some unfinished business.”

  The two men turned slowly, Capper on his feet and Emil on his knees before a safe, and Talia saw enough in that first moment to piece together what had happened. Capper carried a hammer from his beloved toolkit in one hand. It was covered in blood, and Emil’s heavily scarred face bore a new gash down one side. Crimson droplets continued to fall from it even now, splattering against his shoulder and arm.

  “The whore,” Capper said flatly. “It seems we caught up with you in the end.”

  “Call me that one more time,” Talia said, pointing the gun directly at his face. “I dare you.”

  Capper smiled slowly at her. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Step aside,” she told him. She glanced at Emil. “I want him first.”

  Capper glanced down at Emil, confused. “Your leader here was just handing over his valuables,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll have his undying gratitude for saving him.”

  “He’s not my leader, and I’m not saving him,” Talia said. “I’m putting a bullet in him. Then it’s your turn, you dumb shit.”

  Emil clambered to his feet shakily, his eyes fixed balefully on Talia.

  “I could have blown your head apart a few minutes ago,” he said. “Remember that.”

  Talia felt hot tears begin to slide down her cheeks. “You killed the only people in the world who mean anything to me, Emil. If you wanted someone to experience the pain you felt, then congratulations. You succeeded.”

  She levelled the gun at him and slipped her finger onto the trigger.

  She heard movement behind her and turned instinctively, just in time to see a short woman with jet-black hair swipe at her with a glinting blade. She fell backward, out into the corridor and the woman advanced, her movements lithe and surefooted.

  “Diao-Chan!” came Capper’s voice from inside the room. There was the sound of a scuffle and something breaking inside the room, and Capper grunted. “Keep her alive. She’s mine!”

  Diao-Chan came nearer, and Talia fired off a round from the .22 that missed the target. The next shot caught her in the arm, and Diao-Chan hissed and dropped back. Talia kept firing, hitting her two or three more times, and then Diao-Chan dropped to the floor.

  Talia got to her feet and found her way back to the doorway, where she beheld a truly horrific sight. Capper lay lifeless in a chair while Emil stood over him, heaving the hammer into his ruined and bloody face over and over, sending great chunks of flesh flying with each blow. At the sight of Talia in the threshold he stopped and stared at her with a demonic look in his eyes. It was the gaze of a man who had teetered on the precipice of psychosis for a long time and who had now gone over the edge, lost to the chaos that raged deep inside him. Whether it was a by-product of finally achieving his revenge on Knile, or perhaps because he’d seen his beloved Skybreach being torn apart around him, Talia couldn’t be sure.

  She only knew that there was no coming back for him now. He was too far gone.

  Emil came at her with a snarl, raising the hammer, and she fired the .22 in return.

  The gun clicked once, twice.

  Empty.

  Then he was upon her, hammer whistling through the air at her face. She was knocked backward and the .22 clattered out of her grasp, and then Emil was pulling at her hair, scratching at her face like a wild animal, grunting and gnashing his teeth. She managed to grasp a handful of his blood-soaked shirt and swing him around and into the wall, but in the process the hammer clipped her on the forehead and she went down, her head spinning.

  Emil peeled himself away from the wall and drew in a ragged breath. He looked down at her and spun the hammer in his hand playfully.

  “If only Knile were alive to see this,” he gasped. He raised the hammer and took a step forward.

  “Emil!” someone called from behind him. He turned, and then the corridor was filled with three deafening booms. Emil was sent spinning to the floor as the bullets tore at his chest, and when he hit the ground he tried to raise his head again, but then slumped back down.

  After that he did not move again.

  Talia looked down the corridor and saw Silvestri standing there, gun in hand. His eyes met hers and he slowly lowered the weapon.

  Looking around at the carnage, he slowly shook his head.

  “Hell of a day,” he remarked casually.

  Talia breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  Silvestri noticed something at his feet, then nudged the spent .22 back toward her with the toe of his boot. He gave her another of his trademark grins.

  “I thought I told you to keep this thing close,” he said.

  Knile somehow crawled and found his way behind a pallet of steel struts as the world fell apart around him.

  The noise was intense, jarring. Pulse rounds seared the wood and steel in every direction, knocking over entire walls and even causing part of the structure to cave in nearby. There was a low moaning sound, and then air blasted through the resulting hole in the ceiling, sending white powdery dust swirling in a nebulous, all-consuming maelstrom. Knile raised his head and saw bursts of blue and red light through the cloud, like flashes of pigmented lightning, as the Redmen continued to pepper the area with pulse rounds. One of the red patches grew brighter, and then Knile saw Lazarus lurch past as he sought cover. He had activated some kind of visor or helmet and it now protruded from the shoulders of his suit, protecting his face and neck from the onslaught.

  Knile glanced left and right, unsure of what to do. In fact, he wasn’t sure if there was anything he could do. He was at a distinct disadvantage in this fight, neither equipped with the weaponry, armour or training of those around him. He still had his little bone shiv in his belt, but he imagined it would merely break apart should he try to ram in into the suit of one of the Redmen – that was assuming he could even get close enough to attempt it.

  He couldn’t bury his head in the tablet to continue his hack of the Consortium network, either. He had to remain aware of his surroundings, be prepared to run if that was required.

  A thought occurred to him and he checked his wristwatch. More than thirty minutes had elapsed now since the alert had been raised. Roman’s procedure should be complete. If Knile could somehow find his way out of the construction zone, he could collect Roman and get him out of there, perhaps descend to Gaslight where they could find safety.

  You can’t do that to Lazarus, he thought grimly. He needs your help.

  There was a loud thump, and then two Redmen tumbled out of the gloom, their limbs intertwined with one another as they crashed through another wall. The floor shook with the impact, and above Knile a large crack materialised, threatening to tear the roof asunder. He began to move again but had to stop and turn back as the glow of the third Redman came bounding toward him.

  He squirmed behind a desk, and then a moment later a body slammed onto the floor beside him, sending up another gout of dust in its wake. Knile began to struggl
ed backward, but then saw that the Redman was dead, his neck at an unnatural angle.

  Luckily, it was not Aron Lazarus.

  Two down. One to go.

  A few metres away lay the dead Redman’s pulse rifle. Knile suffered a brief moment of indecision, whether to stay out of sight or take this opportunity to arm himself, and a split second later he surged forward, throwing caution to the wind as he leapt out to claim the weapon. Then he hefted it in his hands.

  The thing was heavy. Knile had never used a pulse rifle before, and now that he held one in his grasp he could only wonder how anyone ever managed to wield them effectively. He struggled and raised the rifle to a roughly horizontal position, then began to stagger forward.

  There was a grunting sound ahead, and the red glow returned, and Knile braced himself.

  Can’t see a damn thing, he thought. Is this the good guy or the bad guy?

  There was a crash followed by a splintering sound, then a dull thud. The red glow suddenly seemed to split in two as the Redmen parted.

  One of them was now lying prone on the floor.

  Knile kept walking forward, trying to wipe the grit out of his eyes with one hand.

  He heard Scole’s voice again. “You’re a disgrace, Laz,” he said, breathless. Knile still couldn’t make out which Redman was which. “You don’t deserve to wear that armour anymore. So, tell you what.” He coughed. “After I blow you away there’s gonna be nothing left of you but a few bits of meat inside that armour. Then I’m gonna take it and hang it on the wall of the Reach and let the crows pick it clean. How do you like that? Your last vestiges left for crowbait. That’s all that you deserve.”

  The Redman who was standing bent to pick something up, and in that moment the dust cleared enough for Knile to see that it was Scole. The man was in the process of collecting a pulse rifle from the floor, and Lazarus lay at his feet, dazed.

  Knile gritted his teeth and pulled the trigger.

  The pulse rifle bucked in his hands like a wild beast and the shot went high and to the left. Scole looked up, surprised, then his fingers closed around the rifle on the floor. As he brought it up, Knile fired again, too soon. The muzzle was still too high from the first shot.