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Stalker's Luck (Solitude Saga Book 1)

Page 20

by Chris Strange


  She pointed towards the armoury. “I brought you some guns.”

  He grinned and slapped her on the shoulder as he passed. “You always know just how to treat your partner, don’t you?”

  29

  Fire pulsed through Roy’s thigh with every step. His trouser leg was damp and sticky with blood that wouldn’t stop flowing. He took another step and nearly stumbled. If Lilian hadn’t been there to take his weight, he would’ve fallen.

  That galled him. He’d been wounded before, cut and scraped and bruised in prison fights and assassination attempts. But he’d always been able to move under his own power, at least until he found himself alone and could finally sit and deal with the pain.

  But here he was, alive and walking by the grace of his wife, a woman half his size who still managed to take his weight without grimace or complaint. He loved her for that, loved her for her strength and quiet fortitude. But he was also ashamed for her to see him like this, so weak. She hadn’t married a weak man.

  And to think it had been nothing but a lucky shot from some syndicate thug that’d done this to him. Not a planned hit, not a bullet from the gun of a Fed hunting party. Just some faceless mook whose balls probably hadn’t even dropped yet.

  A nerve twinged in his thigh and he bit back a grunt as electric pain shot through him. His sweat made his clothes cling to him. He was repulsed by his own stench. But still Lilian urged him on, whispering soothing words in his ear as they crept through the dark alleys of Temperance’s abandoned districts. Leone’s people wouldn’t be far behind. They had to get out of sight, lay low until they could make a move for another ship.

  How long did they have? In a few days, the flow of tourists would slow. A few days after that and they’d begin to leave. No one wanted to be stuck here if the life support systems failed earlier than expected. And every ship that left without Roy and Lilian on it was one less ship they could use for their escape. Leone had to know Roy was on the station. He wouldn’t rest until Roy was dead and Lilian was back with him.

  Roy had been so close. So close to rescuing Lilian. Until the stalkers ruined everything. If Lilian died on this station, he would ensure those stalkers did too.

  Roy was so deep in his thoughts he lost his sense of direction as Lilian led him through the narrow streets. He glanced around at the towering apartment blocks, dead houseplants still hanging from balconies.

  “Where are we going?” His voice came out as a hoarse whisper. The machine pistol was gripped in his right hand, even though he didn’t know if he had the strength to lift it.

  “A safe place,” she said. She had the bag of money slung over her other shoulder while she supported him. Even stained with his blood and damp with sweat, she was beautiful. His heart ached with how much he had missed her.

  They emerged into the street. They’d come out behind a burned-out old building, the debris still cluttering the rear alley. She leaned him against the charred wall for a moment and pulled open the thin back door. The hinges creaked and protested.

  He folded back around her shoulders as she returned to him. Slowly, she edged him through the doorway. Parts of the upper floor had collapsed, blocking the way forward. But Lilian turned and pushed through another door into a small office. One wall was completely destroyed, opening out into a wider room strewn with debris. The air stank of smoke, even though the building had clearly been this way for months.

  As Roy rested against the office desk, Lilian pushed a fallen beam aside and pulled back the scorched carpet in the centre of the room. A trapdoor was revealed.

  “How do you know about this place?” he said.

  “You know me,” she said. “I’ve got an eye for these sorts of things.” She pulled open the trapdoor and tossed the money bag down into the darkness. She turned to him. “Can you make it down the stairs?”

  He nodded and she took his weight once more. The stairs were narrow and steep, making the descent slow and awkward. Only the barest light from outside trickled in to show the way. Finally, the stairway ended and his foot touched solid ground. Lilian flipped a switch on the wall and a bulb lit up.

  The room wasn’t much. An empty safe sat open against one wall. A long table ran through the centre of the room, surrounded by mismatched chairs. Empty noodle boxes and drink bottles were scattered around. A cash counting machine was the only piece of technology in the room.

  “Over here,” Lilian said, lowering him into a chair. He exhaled as the weight was taken off his leg and the pain faded slightly.

  “Will they find us here?” he asked. The machine pistol sat in his lap.

  “I don’t think so. Not for a while.” She knelt in front of him and tore his trouser leg to expose the wound. “How bad is the pain?”

  He shrugged.

  She smiled up at him and took his hand, squeezing it. “I should know better than to ask you, shouldn’t I? I don’t have anything for the pain, so you’re going to have to be brave a little longer. You’ve lost a bit of blood, but I don’t think the artery was hit. I’m going to bandage it, okay?”

  He nodded and she went to work, tearing his trouser leg into strips and using it to bandage the wound. It wasn’t clean or hygienic, but he’d survive.

  As she worked, he watched her face. Watched her curls sway with each movement of her head. Her hair was shorter than he remembered, but he liked it this way.

  “I missed you,” he said.

  She flashed a smile at him that warmed his stomach. “I know you did.”

  “Did…what did Leone do to you?”

  The smile faded. “Nothing I won’t survive.”

  “Lilian….”

  She tied off the makeshift bandage and gave his hand another squeeze. “We’ll talk about it. We will. On our way off this station. We’ll have all the time in the world to talk about it. But you need to rest. Look at you, you can barely keep your eyes open.”

  He suddenly realised how tired he was. When was the last time he’d slept? Days ago? Had it been that long?

  “Here.” She took his gun from him, laid it on the ground, then helped lower him onto the floor. It wasn’t the most comfortable place he’d ever slept, but it was far from the worst.

  He reached out a hand to her. “I want to hold you.”

  “Soon,” she said. “I need to go out and get some things. We need food and water and some proper medical supplies. And I need to find out what Leone’s men are up to.”

  “No,” he said. “It’s too dangerous. You can’t go alone.”

  “I’ve survived without you for years. I think I can last another hour.” She knelt at his side and pressed her lips against his. All these years and he’d never forgotten how she tasted. He savoured that slow, soft kiss. Years’ worth of tension flooded from his muscles. He wanted to stay here in this moment forever. But his body was betraying him. He was slipping into sleep.

  His eyes closed by themselves. Her hand brushed his forehead and he felt her lips gently kiss each of his eyelids.

  “Sleep,” she whispered. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “I love you,” he mumbled.

  “I love you too,” she said.

  And then he was out.

  Roy woke with a start, clutching his leg. The muscles in his thigh were cramping, twitching in agony beneath the bandage. He gritted his teeth and rode the wave of pain until it subsided.

  The bulb overhead gave a barely audible hum. Water dripped from a pipe somewhere in the ruined building. He coughed a few times, the smoke in the air irritating his lungs.

  How long had he been out? He had no idea. It didn’t feel like it’d been more than an hour, but he had no way of knowing. His mouth was dry; he’d kill for a drink and a smoke. He pushed himself up onto his elbow and looked around. Lilian still wasn’t back. Had Leone’s men got to her?

  No, she was more careful than that. It’d take time to navigate streets swarming with Leone’s people. She’d be back when she could be. He knew that. But something else niggled at
the back of his mind. Something was wrong. He could feel it.

  He reached out, picked up his machine pistol. He couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t sense any movement. But his stomach was twisting. Something was missing.

  The bag. The money.

  He twisted, scanning the room. The bag of money was nowhere to be seen. Lilian had tossed it down here. He’d seen it. He’d passed it as he came in. So where was it?

  There was only one possibility. Lilian had taken it.

  He sat up, ignoring the pain in his leg, and tried to control his breathing and his swirling thoughts. There was a reasonable explanation. She needed supplies. She needed money for that.

  But the whole bag? Over a million vin? He could understand her taking the pistol from inside, taking a few tens of thousands. But taking the whole bag was just dangerous. What if she had to run and leave it behind? She was a smart woman, and more careful than that. So why had she taken it?

  As he shifted his weight, the corner of something hard pressed into his side. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tab. The tab he’d picked up in Lilian’s room at the hotel. He stared down at its screen, fingers tightening around its covering.

  He opened her log of recent calls. Every one of them went to the same number. No name attached, but he recognised the number he’d gotten from his captive, Hudson. Feleti Leone’s private number.

  Why would she be calling Leone? Some of these calls were made as recently as yesterday. She called him nearly every day. What twisted game was he playing with her?

  He navigated through the files on her tab, flicking rapidly through them. A name caught his eye. He stopped, scrolled back.

  A digital book. No, not just one, dozens of them. She’d always loved reading. But as he scrolled through, he saw the same author’s name coming up again and again. Eddie Gould.

  He thought back to her apartment. She’d had one of Gould’s books there as well. She knew him. That had been clear when she’d talked to him at the spaceport. She’d asked Roy to spare the stalker’s life. Why?

  The answer came as a whisper in the back of his head.

  She betrayed you for him. Why do you think she took the money? She took it to him. She’s going to lead the stalkers straight back to you. She loves him, not you. How could you ever think a woman like that would love a monster like you?

  No. It wasn’t true. He knew her past. He knew what she’d done to survive. She was strong, but so was her thirst for life. She’d betrayed men before to protect herself. He knew that. He respected it. She’d done what she had to.

  She had never been weak. She was a leader. She’d helped him run the syndicate. She’d helped him secure territory, take over businesses, slaughter rivals. She could be as ruthless as him. That was part of why he loved her.

  But she would never betray him. Not now. Not after everything he’d been through to get her back.

  Fool, the voice in his head whispered. You’ve already lost her. She’s Gould’s now. The stalkers know your secrets. They’re coming for you. Just listen.

  He listened, holding his breath. And he heard the squeal of the back door opening.

  He picked up his machine pistol and waited.

  30

  Eddie stood by the window in the lobby of the abandoned brothel, watching the street. His stomach was slowly tightening into knots. He could feel the end approaching, and he didn’t like the way it felt in his gut.

  From here he had a perfect view of Lady Luck Gentlemen’s Club, the burned-out building still and silent in the twilight.

  Knox was fiddling with his tab next to the brothel’s office. Next to him, Dom knelt, checking her shotgun for the tenth time.

  “How sure are you that this information of yours is correct?” she said.

  Knox didn’t take his eyes off his tab. “How many times are you going to ask me that? It’s right, okay? Jesus Christ. It wasn’t put together by gorillas like you in some sweat shop on New Calypso. This is Solar tech, painstakingly restored by Radiants on Uriel for the benefit of this great Federation. The tracker’s pointing there, so Williams is there. Get it?”

  “All right, calm down.” She absentmindedly touched her wounded jaw. “I just wanted to be sure.”

  “He’s there,” Eddie said. “She took him there. She knows this place.”

  He could feel Dom’s eyes on him, but she didn’t say anything.

  He tested the feel of the unfamiliar assault rifle against his shoulder. It was heavier and longer than he liked, especially for a close-quarters engagement like this was inevitably going to be. But he knew better than to go up against Williams poorly armed. The man was wild.

  Dom produced two flashlights from the pockets of her duster coat, along with a roll of electrical tape. Eddie took one and taped it to the side of the rifle barrel. He tested the light. Bright enough.

  “How are we doing this?” he said.

  “Stick together. Sweep room by room.”

  “Doesn’t look like there’s many rooms left,” Knox pointed out.

  “That’ll just make him easier to find,” Dom said as she finished securing her flashlight to her shotgun. “Knox, you stay here and keep a tab connection open with us. I want to know if he tries to run.”

  “No problem,” he said. “Just as long as you don’t get any funny ideas about pocketing some of that cash while I’ve got my thumb up my arse out here.”

  “You’ll get what you’re due,” she said. She looked to Eddie, concern creasing her forehead. “You sure you can do this?”

  Eddie nodded. “Just be careful, all right? Cassandra’s in there somewhere. Watch where you’re shooting.”

  “With a bit of luck there won’t be any shooting at all.” She put her earpiece in her ear as Knox twiddled the knobs on his tab. “Can you hear me?”

  “Just as guttural as always,” Knox said.

  She racked her shotgun. “Let’s get this over with.”

  They moved to the door. As they moved out of earshot of the augment, Eddie tapped his ear and glanced meaningfully at Dom. She took her earpiece out and covered it with her hand.

  “What?”

  “I just…if I take a hit in there—”

  “Eddie, come on.”

  “Shut up, all right. If I take a hit in there, just make sure Cassandra gets out safe. Okay? Can you do that?”

  She sighed. “I’ll do what I can. But don’t you dare get killed.”

  “Worried you’ll miss me?”

  “I just don’t want to spend one more second alone with Knox. I’m about ready to plug the little bastard.”

  Eddie grinned as she slipped the earpiece back into position. They lingered in the doorway of the brothel for a moment, checking up and down the street.

  “We’re clear,” Dom said. “Cover me.”

  She darted out of cover, swiftly crossing the street and pressing herself against the wall next to Lady Luck’s ruined entrance. She paused, sweeping back and forth with her shotgun. Then she raised a hand and signalled.

  Eddie took a deep breath and followed, the assault rifle hard against his shoulder. He pressed himself against the burned building’s exterior and tested the door below the neon sign.

  “Jammed,” he whispered.

  She glanced around. “No windows. Let’s see if there’s another way in.”

  They slipped around the side of the building. Nothing else moved. Eddie spotted a back door and nodded towards it. They formed up on either side, their footsteps crunching against the debris littering the ground. The back of the building wasn’t so burned out; the whole rear wall was black, but intact.

  Dom nodded at him and he reached out and pressed down on the door handle. The hinges squealed as he pushed the door inward. The stench of smoke filled his nostrils.

  Dom flicked on her flashlight and aimed the shotgun through the entrance. Eddie followed suit. The darkness was quiet except for the creaks and groans of the injured building. Flakes of ash drifted from the ceiling, shining as
they passed through the flashlight beam.

  With a nod from Eddie, Dom slipped inside the building, swinging to the left and shining her beam around the debris blocking the main hallway. He followed a second after, moving to the right. His light revealed a doorway that opened into a small office. He moved inside, the beams overhead groaning with every step.

  There was a carpet spread out in the centre of the office. But the corner of it was lifted, revealing a clean patch of floor. Someone had moved the carpet recently. Pushing aside the pain in his ribs, he crouched and dragged the carpet aside. There was a trapdoor set into the floor.

  He turned back in the direction Dom had gone. He could see her light playing across the walls.

  “Freckles,” he whispered. “Over here.”

  He switched off his flashlight and tugged on the trapdoor’s handle. A faint light spilled out from downstairs. As he swung the door fully open, the hinges gave a long, low groan. He paused.

  A rattle of gunshots burst out of the open trapdoor. Eddie scrambled out of the way as bullets skimmed the air in front of him and slammed into the ruined ceiling. Over the echoing sound of gunfire he could hear Dom’s footsteps stomping through the building.

  The burst of gunfire ended, leaving his ears ringing. Someone was swearing downstairs. Eddie raised his gun and prepared to descend.

  The ceiling groaned above him. He glanced up to see dust falling from the tiles around the bullet holes. Something gave a loud crack.

  He stumbled back as part of the office ceiling caved in. Black dust spewed out as beams clattered to the ground. Eddie put his hands over his head and dived under the office desk. Hell rained down on him. The dust got in his lungs. He suppressed a coughing fit.

  The rumbling quietened; the sky stopped falling. Eddie gave it a few more seconds, then peeked out from under the desk. Dust filled the air. The hallway outside the office was completely blocked with debris.

  “Freckles!” he called out.

  He was answered with coughing. “I’m okay. You?”

  “Just peachy.”

  “The door’s blocked,” she said. “I’m going to have to find another way to get to you.”

 

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