Thieves' Guild Series (7 eBook Box Set): Military Science Fiction - Alien Invasion - Galactic War Novels

by C. G. Hatton

“Don’t wait for me. Go on ahead.”

  She stopped and looked at me like I was insane. “Didn’t you hear? There’s a blizzard moving in. How’s your knee?”

  “I’m good. Really, I’m good.”

  She didn’t look convinced but as we were waved through the gate, she took off at an easy pace and didn’t wait for me.

  I walked through, hoisting the weight of the rifle on my back until it was comfortable, and ignoring everyone who ran past me. The path out onto the moorland was getting covered with snow, the sky a weird dull green-grey. It was even more eerie following the winding path into the small copse of trees that led towards the river. There was no sound, as if someone had muted the entire universe. I glanced behind me to make sure everyone had gone past. It was clear. I bunched the ends of my sleeves around my fists to keep my hands warm, and I veered off the path to run into the trees.

  Chapter 23

  I knew the lie of the terrain so it was easy to keep going in the right direction, always towards the beacon, cutting across the rough land to the river, the sound of rushing water drifting on the breeze as I got closer.

  I came out of the trees a bit further south of where I wanted to be but that was fine. It didn’t take long to scramble along the riverbank to where it turned the bend. There was an undercut of bank, where the floodwaters had cut into the soil, tree roots exposed and the perfect cover to keep out of sight. I kept low and crept towards the boathouse. There were the usual two guards, pacing up and down, stamping their feet and bitching about the weather. They were looking out over the moorland path, not down towards the river. I got close, climbed one of the metal struts and swung up onto the understructure of the building.

  I didn’t have long. It was icy cold on the exposed beam, the wind starting to pick back up and the snow turning into a sleet that cut across my neck and cheeks. I climbed up, crawled towards the door and slipped inside the boathouse. The collar was still active so it was a nightmare to keep track of the direction I was moving. No backtracking, no turning. But I had it planned, grabbed the life jacket by stretching out from the line I had to keep on, and split, moving fast to the other side and dropping back onto the riverbank. I ditched the rifle, shrugged into the jacket and inflated it, struggling to get the rifle sling back over my arm. I had to settle for hooking it round my neck, hoping it wouldn’t strangle me, and dropped into the turbulent water.

  I was dragged under and for a second I thought I’d misjudged it and was going to drown for real. I couldn’t drop the rifle and I couldn’t inflate the jacket any more than it was. But the water swirled me around and threw me back up to the surface, carrying me along at a greater pace than I’d expected. I spluttered out a lungful of the icy cold water and started coughing, trying to stifle it but having to give up and just hope no one could hear.

  No one started shooting at me and the collar didn’t spark.

  The river was flowing fast.

  A couple of times I thought I heard voices, distant and carrying on the wind. My fingers were numb, my chest was burning and I was starting to think I’d made a really bad mistake when the river swung round an opposite bend and opened out. That was my cue.

  I kicked for the bank, went under again, swallowed a mouthful of muddy water and bumped against a tree root. I almost wrenched out my shoulder grabbing for it but I kept hold and hauled myself into the cover of the overhanging branches, one of them raking my cheek and another snagging the rifle and almost pulling me back under. I had to fight to free it, and climbed out and up onto the slushy snow-covered mud of the riverbank, no time to even catch my breath, scrambling on my knees up onto the path, shrugging out of the lifejacket and pushing myself into a stumbling run.

  Glancing back, the moorland was increasingly becoming a total whiteout. I had no idea how far they were behind me but they’d be gaining. I couldn’t run any faster. Every part of me had red hot needles of pain stabbing deep into the joints at every step. My hands were burning, cheeks burning, chest aching beyond pain. Every breath I sucked in was shallow and so stinging cold, it was almost making me gag. I kept going, the rifle getting heavier at every step. I could just make out the waypoint up ahead, the outline of the range beyond it, and all I could see was my finger on the trigger and that target dropping.

  I didn’t stop. It was going to be close. I ran past the waypoint, tagging it as I passed, pressing my palm against the cold metal just long enough to be sure, and ran on to the shooting range, dragging the rifle off my back as I went. I almost fumbled it, my fingers were so numb. If I dropped it, I was done and it was all for nothing. I swung it up and round to cradle it in my arms as I took the last few staggering steps.

  The hatch opened. I didn’t know if I could pick the magazine out of there, never mind engage it in the weapon’s magazine housing. But I stopped and just stood. I breathed. In. Out. Slow and steady. The biting sleet swirling in flurries around me slowed. I balanced the rifle in my arms, reached for the magazine and slotted it home, every motion smooth and slick. I dropped to my knees, staring at the target, went prone and got the rifle into position, not once taking my eyes off that small black circle. Finger on the trigger. Breathe. Every muscle relaxed, all the tension flowing out of me like nothing mattered.

  I took a shot.

  It went wide. I calmed myself again.

  One more shot and the target went down.

  I looked along the line. And I couldn’t resist.

  I stood, holding the rifle down by my side and turned. The shouting was closer, figures running up to the mast. Hilyer was at the lead, sprinting. He ran up, pulling his rifle off his back as he tagged the waypoint and turned towards the shooting point. He stopped, pulling up short and staring past me.

  I glanced back over my shoulder. I’d put down every target. Every hatch had gone dark, an empty magazine at every firing point where I’d left them.

  As we stood there staring, a deep roar rumbled overhead, engines sending the sleet into a frenzy around us. The drop ship banked hard above us. I couldn’t help flinching, every muscle starting to shiver, feeling the mass of the ship descending close, fast. It landed right next to us, the heat from its engines billowing out in waves. The ramp dropped and the psych guy walked out, wearing full cold weather combat gear. He stopped at the base of the ramp, and yelled, “Anderton, get your ass in here. The rest of you, tag the damned mast and get the hell back.”

  He didn’t wait for me.

  I was frozen to the spot.

  “LC,” Hil yelled, “you’re an idiot.” He turned and ran.

  I couldn’t stop trembling.

  The engines of the drop ship were gearing up to leave. I ran up to the ramp and stumbled on board. Someone grabbed me and steered me to a seat as it lifted and banked round.

  “Well done, kid,” the psych guy said from the seat opposite. “You just made selection.”

  The nametag on his jacket said Sherwood. There were no rank or unit insignia anywhere on his fatigues. I got the feeling he wasn’t a psych guy after all.

  “You want to tell me,” he said, “why the hell you thought you would get away with that?”

  I was shivering uncontrollably even though it was warm in there, the drop ship flying fast and low over the moorland.

  “Well?”

  I didn’t know if I could speak out loud, my throat felt so raw. “The test…” I coughed, hugging my ribs to contain the pain. “The test said shoot the target inside thirty five minutes. It said nothing about having to run there.”

  He nodded. “Welcome to the programme, Mister Anderton. You’re in. You might wish you weren’t.”

  We shipped out the next day. Sherwood was on the transport with us. So was Brennan. I counted thirteen kids, including me. Hilyer was there and so was Jem. No sign of Kat. I was half pleased and half gutted that she wasn’t. Raine wasn’t. That was a bonus. Neither was Jaimie. I had a fraction of a second of gut-wrenching turmoil that she’d still be down there with him, and not me, then I switched it off
and moved on. Concentrated on breathing and trying not to throw up as we took off, vertical lift and vicious acceleration. Straight up to orbit.

  Hilyer hadn’t said another word to me.

  I closed my eyes. The other kids were all calling to each other. I heard my name a couple of times. Nothing good. Then the guards yelled for quiet and the acceleration increased as we left Redemption’s atmosphere.

  We were gone.

  We were on our own.

  We must have docked with a bigger ship because there were a load of clangs then we jumped three times. It was worse than any we’d done on the way to the Alsatia. A nauseating pull at every sense and nerve. I counted prime numbers, worked out fuel calcs, ran anything and everything through my head so I didn’t think. I ended up zoning out. I didn’t know where we were going or what was going to happen. I had no way of contacting the guild. And I had no idea what they were going to do with us.

  I don’t know if I fell asleep or passed out but I was woken by a slap to the cheek and a pull on the harness. I jerked awake, heart pounding, nightmare still fresh, adrenaline punching hard in my chest. Whoever it was hissed, “Shut up and get up.”

  It was quiet so we’d either docked or we’d landed somewhere. Everyone was trooping out. I followed them off the drop ship into a massive hangar that was dark and ominous, minimal lighting and a chill dry cast to the air. I don’t know why but it felt like we were underground. The gravity was high but not as high as Kheris. I could see from the way the others were walking that it was bothering them, chuntering and complaints getting shut down by a new set of adult staff who were all wearing black fatigues. They all had rifles and sidearms as well as batons.

  This wasn’t a prison. It was a military base. We weren’t even in the prison system anymore.

  We were lined up in a row and yelled at to stand to attention. I stood, looking straight ahead. One of the soldiers went along the row, picking fault, yelling in every kid’s face until they got it right. He stopped in front of me and looked me up and down. I tried to stand still. But you know what I’m like. I didn’t even need to do anything.

  Sherwood was watching us. I couldn’t help glancing over as Arianne walked off the drop ship to join him. It was definitely her, I would have bet my life on it. Then it occurred to me that maybe I just had. She was wearing the same uniform as the others, a sidearm on her hip, no insignia or rank.

  The soldier was standing, staring at me, incredulous.

  I looked back at him.

  “What the hell have we got here?”

  I didn’t know what I was doing wrong. There was no way I wanted to make the same mistake I’d made on Redemption. I kept my arms locked by my side, back rigid. Looked straight ahead. Barely breathing. And I was still screwed.

  He didn’t yell at me. He just stood there, staring at me. I didn’t realise it at the time but he was probably speaking with someone through an implant, same as everyone had on the Alsatia. He shook his head slightly and looked me up and down.

  “So you’re the kid that beat the test?”

  I didn’t know whether I should speak or not.

  He nodded, gave a small laugh and stepped back to address the whole line. “I am your staff sergeant. You will address me as Sir. Do you understand?”

  They all snapped out, “Sir, yessir.”

  I hadn’t said it before I realised I hadn’t, then it was too late to say it by myself.

  Mistake.

  He didn’t look at me but he smiled, his expression dark. “Do you understand, Mister Anderton?”

  I managed to say, “Yessir,” almost like I meant it. It wasn’t that I was trying to be a smartass. I was trying to fit in. I was just crap at it.

  His smile widened. “Okay,” he said, raising his voice. “You all think you’ve proved yourselves to get this far? Let me tell you this – we are only just beginning.” He turned away. “Get the rest of these kids into the barracks. Anderton gets to go first.”

  Going first meant being first to get processed. I stood in a torrent of cold water, shivering, not having to care who the hell could be watching. The driers sucked all the moisture out of the air and left me coughing. Then they ordered me to dress, sat me in a small room and told me to wait. The clothes weren’t that different. Black tee shirt though. No name or number on it. There was nothing in the room. Nothing on the walls. Nothing I could see in the way of surveillance but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any.

  After a while, a medic came in, removed the collar from my neck and started taking my stats, taking hold of my arm and popping shots into my wrist. He didn’t say a word. Finally, he set up a drip in my arm and left.

  I didn’t know what to do so I just sat there.

  Eventually Sherwood came in and stood, arms folded, looking down at me, a slight smile creasing his lips.

  We stared at each other for a while.

  I didn’t know if he was waiting for me to do something or just trying to freak me out.

  After an age, he said, “No smartass comment, kid?”

  I shook my head. Either the lack of sleep was catching up with me or whatever they were dripping into my bloodstream was making me drowsy.

  He checked the watch on his wrist. “Just a bit longer then it should be working.”

  My stomach flipped. I couldn’t help asking then, “What should be working?” My words slurred, mouth dry. My arms felt heavy but I managed to tug on the line. “What is this?”

  “Triptopentathol, if you really want to know. Truth serum. Time to find out exactly where you’re from, Luka.”

  Chapter 24

  My eyelids felt like they were made of lead. Of course we’d had training on the Alsatia on how to resist interrogation. A quick crash course in what to do if anyone tried to get anything out of us. That was all we’d had time for.

  In reality, I could hardly see and I had no idea if I could think straight enough to outsmart anyone.

  He sat opposite me. “What’s your real name?”

  I couldn’t stop myself mumbling, “Luka Cole…” forcing myself to add, “Anderton.”

  “Very good. How old are you, Luka?”

  My chest was getting tight, stomach in knots. I could hardly keep my eyes open. I tried every trick the guild had taught me, simple mind focus tricks to keep control, but it wasn’t just that I couldn’t bring myself to lie, I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him everything.

  “How old are you?”

  I whispered, “Fourteen.”

  “Good.” He leaned back and asked casually, “What was the name of the base you hacked into, Luka?”

  I opened my mouth to answer and I think I would have told him outright, just said it there and then, but I was having trouble breathing. I couldn’t get enough oxygen. Same as when I’d been running out of air outside the Alsatia. I couldn’t move. I just about managed to glance up, frantic, at where I thought the cameras would be if they were watching. It felt like a fist was pressing against my heart, vision narrowing to a dark tunnel, as the door opened. I was only vaguely aware of Brennan rushing in, cursing, saying something about a bad reaction to drugs, taking hold of my arm and pulling out the IV. I felt myself going, keeling over sideways, the dark tunnel turning black, fast.

  I came round on the floor.

  Brennan was crouched next to me, calmly injecting drugs into my wrist. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “You had a bad reaction. It could be the after-effects of the rapid-heal drugs we were giving you at Redemption reacting with the Tripto P. It’ll wear off. Just breathe for a moment, you’re absolutely fine.”

  I didn’t feel fine but whatever she was giving me neutralised whatever crap they’d hit me with fairly fast. I moved to sit up and she helped me get to my feet. Sherwood had gone.

  “There shouldn’t be any after effects,” she said, steering me into the seat and crouching in front of me. “Why don’t you talk to them? None of this would be necessary if you’d just
talk to them.”

  “I can’t,” I muttered, although the way she was looking at me was making me want to tell her about my whole life, more compulsively than their drugs had done.

  She squeezed my knee and stood. I thought she was going but she looked like she changed her mind and pulled the chair round to sit next to me. “They just want to know where you’re from to complete your file,” she said. “This isn’t Redemption anymore, sweetheart. You virtually volunteered to come here. This is a military unit. They just want to complete your personnel file.”

  It sounded so convincing I almost said, “Yeah, sure, why not?” but she was being too reasonable and it suddenly set my nerves on edge.

  “I don’t understand why on earth you were sent to Redemption, of all places, for just hacking into a computer system.”

  The lump in my throat was making it hard to swallow. I bit my lip harder.

  “Has there been a mistake?” she said. “Is that why you wanted a case review? Because, Luka, if there’s been a mistake in your sentencing, I’ll do everything I can to help you. But you need to give me something to go on, sweetheart.”

  I shook my head. Too fast. And she looked at me disappointed again. Like I’d let her down. Like she’d wanted it to have been a mistake.

  “Whatever you did,” she said quietly, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

  I think I might have laughed, one of those pathetic little, can’t stop it, rubbish laughs that give away everything when you’re trying to keep quiet.

  She stared at me, frowning. “What happened, Luka? How bad was it?”

  I shook my head again. I wasn’t going to say anything to her. I stared at the floor.

  “How bad was it?” she said again, a stern note appearing in her voice. “Did you kill someone, Luka?” She reached her hand to touch my face, gently turning my head so I had no choice but to look at her.

  I just stared.

  “You killed someone.” She sounded shocked. Like she couldn’t have thought it of me. Like I’d let her down. “That’s not in your file.”