Fire City

by Bali Rai

  ‘Only for the Wanted,’ Stone admitted. ‘I’m sure you had plenty before the War.’ Prior nodded as Stone fiddled with the buttons. ‘It’s not clear who he’s talking to but it doesn’t matter,’ said Stone. ‘Here we go.’

  He set the phone down on the bar, and enjoyed watching their faces as Aron’s voice came through loud and clear.

  ‘I don’t care about anything, not any more,’ they heard him say. ‘I’ll help you to bring them all down. Every last one . . .’

  Faith gasped, holding onto the bar for support. Martha slowly shook her head, her eyes moistening. She felt her childhood bond with Aron splinter into a thousand tiny pieces. Stone fought back a sudden urge to smile as his controller’s voice set up the clincher.

  ‘You’ll help us to find your friends. To access their hideout?’

  Prior started at the new voice. ‘Who’s that?’ he asked.

  ‘Someone the Mayor worked for maybe?’ Stone offered. ‘I dunno. I just found the recording on one of his computers.’

  Prior shook his head in amazement and disgust as he heard Aron reply: ‘Yes, I’ll help you to find the Haven. I’ll tell you how to reach them . . .’

  Stone looked at Martha and shrugged. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’d better go and sort this mess out.’

  Martha failed to reply; her mouth was open but any words were lost somewhere. As Stone began to drag the first body towards the door, she doubled over and puked her guts out.

  46

  MARKO JUMPED DOWN the stairs and across to the tunnel entrance, his face red, his breathing frantic.

  ‘Demons!’ he shouted down to Oscar.

  ‘What?’

  ‘They’re all over the place!’ yelled Marko.

  Oscar climbed back up into the old office block and drew his blade, his mind racing. Marko was behind him, panting now, trying not to panic; the scar that pitted his olive skin had turned purple.

  The stairway was dark but Oscar ran up the steps, desperate to see for himself. Reluctantly, Marko followed. Out in the corridor, Oscar crept towards the access point hidden behind some bushes and an overturned truck. He felt the cool night air on his forehead as he leaned out, scanning the immediate vicinity. He could see nothing, save the same old dilapidated buildings and debris-strewn roads.

  ‘I can’t see anyone,’ he told Marko, hoping that his friend had been mistaken.

  ‘I’m not making it up!’ Marko insisted.

  A shrill cry came from above their position and Oscar heard giant wings flapping. It was no mistake.

  ‘Shit!’ he whispered. ‘What’s a winged demon doing out here?’

  ‘Told you,’ said Marko. ‘Something’s wrong. They never come out here, not in such big numbers.’

  Oscar nodded and thought quickly. What would Mace or Tyrell do? he wondered. ‘Who’s patrolling the other entrance?’ he asked as the seed of a strategy began to germinate in his head.

  ‘Raj and someone called Liam, a new one.’

  ‘We have to warn them too,’ said Oscar. The only immediate action was to see if the demons attacked. If they did, Oscar knew that he and Marko could use the tunnels to escape, destroying the entrance. However, if they didn’t attack and he panicked unnecessarily, then sealing one of only two exits from underground would be foolish.

  ‘Oscar?’

  ‘We’ll hang on a while. They might just be passing by.’ He stood and ran to another set of stairs, which led to the next floor. Part of the ceiling had caved in here and he had to climb over several piles of steel frame and rubble. The steps were mostly intact though, and he soon made his way to a window that overlooked the street below. Despite the darkness, he made out eight patrollers, their heavy frames with knuckles almost dragging the floor, giving them away. ‘Shit!’ He hurried back to Marko, knowing that he had to act quickly. ‘One of us needs to warn May and the others,’ he said. ‘How fast can you make it back through the tunnels?’

  Marko shrugged. ‘Same as you, I guess?’ he replied.

  ‘You wanna go?’

  Marko looked out into the night, heard another demonic cry and nodded. It would be safer in the tunnels than out here, and although he was no coward, he wasn’t a fool either. He would have stayed if Oscar had told him to. He was just following orders.

  ‘Go, then,’ Oscar told him, wishing that Tyrell were by his side. ‘I’ll hold out here. If they discover me, I’ll blow the entrance. There’s some explosives pre-rigged and I’ve got matches.’

  ‘Take care, brother.’

  Oscar nodded. ‘I will – now, get going.’

  Raj had already made it back to the Haven, having spotted the Hell-kin before Oscar and Marko. May let him in and his expression turned her blood to ice water. Her pale-grey eyes grew wide.

  ‘Demons!’ he gasped. ‘Loads of them looking for the entrance. Something’s gone wrong.’

  May told him to calm down. ‘They can’t know about this place,’ she told him. ‘Only we know how to get in here. They’re probably just passing by.’

  ‘No,’ Raj insisted, shaking his head. ‘I was watching them. They’re going from building to building, searching for something. They’re even turning over abandoned vehicles and looking through weed patches. Patrollers and winged ones . . .’

  Convinced now that Raj was right, May began to think hard. They had always planned for being discovered. The Haven had only two official access points underground, and they had dug a warren of tunnels to confuse anyone who found them. They crossed and re-crossed at regular intervals, and only the rebels knew the correct routes. Mace had rigged the two hatches above ground, using simple explosives that could be ignited with matches. The Haven was also stocked with enough food to last a few weeks, if needed.

  There was a third, secret access point, known only to May, Faith, Mace and Prior. This was the exit in the event of an emergency. With the other two hatches blown, it would become the only way out.

  ‘What do you think?’ she asked Raj, looking up into his deep brown eyes.

  ‘We have no choice,’ he told her. ‘We blow the exits. If they find their way here, it’s all over. We can last down here, can’t we?’

  ‘Yes, but it’ll be tough,’ she replied, her mouth suddenly dry.

  ‘We’ve no choice,’ he pointed out. ‘I’ll run back now and do it.’

  ‘Is Liam still up there?’

  Raj nodded. ‘If anything happens before I get there, he’ll blow the hatches himself.’

  ‘OK – go!’ May ordered. She turned and ran for the main chamber . . .

  Oscar felt a bead of perspiration creep down the left side of his face. His palms were equally damp and every vein in his body throbbed. The patrollers had surrounded the building now, and he’d recognized the black-coated frame of Mias. There was no longer any question that they knew about the Haven. He edged forward to try and hear what was being said – making the mistake that Mias had been waiting for. The demon underlord sniffed at the air and his finely tuned nostrils sensed the salty tang of human sweat. He spun round, his ruby-coloured eyes catching sight of Oscar.

  ‘There!’ he roared.

  Oscar sprang from his position and ran back to the tunnel entrance, taking the steps two at a time and landing awkwardly at the bottom of the stairwell. A sharp pain jolted his ankle and he winced. He scrambled to the hatch, knowing that Mias would be tracking his scent. He cursed his decision to wait, wishing that he’d just blown the hatch immediately. He went down into the angled drop, feet first. When the tunnel opened up, he took out his matches and searched for the fuse wire. Above him, the soil vibrated with the sound of pounding feet and some of it began to shake loose. He heard the demons shrieking, closing in on their prize.

  The lamps used to light the tunnel were fading away so he lit a match. The fuse was less than a metre back from where he’d landed. He was about to approach it when a pair of huge, clawed paws poked through the access. He grabbed his machete and swiped at the patroller’s legs. The creature holle
red as the blade cut through the skin and severed some toes. Blood, thick and plum-coloured, began to gush from the wound. Oscar struck again, this time causing the patroller to scream and retreat back up towards the hatch. Sensing his opportunity, Oscar grabbed the wire and followed it, only not far enough. Something had gnawed though its length and it was too close to the explosives. There was no way he’d have time to escape. If he blew the tunnel from his current position, the whole thing would cave in on his head.

  Oscar had never known his real parents, having lived his entire life with Martha and the others. So, faced with possibly his final moments on Earth, it was his friends’ faces that appeared in his mind. He remembered how huge Mace had seemed to his three-year-old eyes. How the giant had thrown him up in the air with one hand, catching him with the other. The time he’d broken his arm, running from a patrol, May fixing it for him, with wooden splints and an old T-shirt, soothing his agony with kind words and soft, maternal kisses.

  He thought about walking in on Martha as she changed and how she’d slapped him across the face. How he’d explained that her naked form did nothing for him, his preference being other males, so he hadn’t been spying on her. The way she’d begged his forgiveness, insisting that she was sorry until her voice had gone hoarse.

  Then, the first time Tyrell had held his hand and told him that he felt the same way. The terror they’d felt at explaining their love to Mace, and the joy at discovering that the elder, the only real father they’d known, blessed them.

  Even Prior made it in those last moments: that wizened old goat with his cigarette scent and his yellowing fingers, teaching Oscar how to fight with a blade, urging him to take his first real drink, even if he was a ‘poof’. All of it flashed past in the seconds between Oscar lighting another match and putting it to the fuse.

  ‘Suck on that, bitches!’ he yelled, turning to run . . .

  Above, the explosion threw Mias back into the street as pieces of patroller flesh, concrete and metal showered all around him. Momentarily dazed, he lay on his back, trying to catch his breath. A shard of steel ten centimetres long and two wide stuck out of his chest. He pawed at it, howling when the movement caused him to shudder in pain. He looked around, seeing several half-dismembered corpses, and roared with anger. Taking hold of the shard again, he closed his eyes and pulled it free, this time refusing to succumb to the pain. He summoned his powers, concentrated on the gaping wound, and it began to close over. Satisfied, he got to his feet, shook his head and assessed the situation. This entrance was useless now.

  He bellowed at the surviving patrollers to run to the second attack point as one of the winged ones swooped down to his side, towering over him.

  ‘Lord Mias, are you hurt?’ it asked.

  Its beak was nearly a metre long and curved down at the end. Huge gold-feathered wings flapped behind its eagle’s head. Both legs were thick and strong, with five razor-sharp claws on each, all as long as its bill.

  ‘It is only a scratch. Take me to the other entrance,’ Mias demanded. ‘They will pay for this.’

  ‘As you wish,’ the winged monster replied, bowing so that Mias was able to clamber onto its back. He held tightly to its feathers as the ground disappeared and they sped up into the night sky.

  The flight was quick and Mias soon found himself earthbound once more. The second entrance was located west of the first, in amongst what had once been a residential area. Four tower blocks stood like giant dominoes in the darkness, one placed behind the other. Around them were smaller blocks, each only four storeys high. Mias saw his lupine-featured number two, Saarl, directing operations. He walked over to him, rubbing at his chest.

  ‘Report!’ he snapped.

  ‘We have the location, brother,’ Saarl revealed. ‘I sensed a single human, no more. We were about to attack when you arrived.’

  ‘They’ve wired the entrances with explosives,’ Mias told him. ‘The first is compromised so this remains our only way in. Where is it?’

  Saarl led Mias inside one of the tower blocks and down a dark corridor lined with his troops. At the end, another door led them into a courtyard area strewn with debris thrown from the floors above. Beds, televisions, old bicycles, even a bath, littered the area. Over in the left corner, blocking a narrow passageway, sat a six-metre-high mound of rubbish, which Saarl pointed to.

  ‘Under there,’ he said. ‘We have troops positioned in each doorway, above on the first floor of each building and protecting the passage to the rear.’

  Mias nodded. ‘You’ve done well, my friend,’ he replied. ‘We move swiftly, before the human can set the charges. Can I count on you?’

  Saarl put his left arm across his broad, golden-haired chest and bowed. ‘I am your servant, brother Mias.’

  Moments later, they had snuck around the building to the far side and were standing in the alleyway. The huge rubbish dump blocked the end and Mias saw that a hole had been burrowed underneath it.

  ‘They hid this well,’ he said to Saarl. ‘Like the devious animals they are.’

  Saarl snorted. ‘Not well enough, Mias,’ he declared. ‘They could not escape you.’

  Mias crouched and edged towards the hole, Saarl right behind. When they were less than five metres away, he stopped and sniffed the air. This time, above the usual stench and the aroma of human perspiration, he sensed something else. Tears. He smiled as he looked at Saarl.

  ‘Now!’ he demanded.

  Underneath the mound, Liam, barely more than fifteen years of age, peered into the gloom and caught sight of piercing emerald eyes looking back at him. He wished his legs would stop shaking, his eyes streaming. Why hadn’t he gone instead of Raj? He knew his orders, understood what he was supposed to have done, but it mattered little. Deep and certain fear had slowed his reactions and turned his stomach inside out. He wanted to vomit, to run and hide, to get away, but he couldn’t. He stood frozen, and when he heard the demon roar, his bowels gave way. A wolf-like snout appeared in the entrance, the teeth dripping with saliva. As the demon pounced, Liam closed his eyes . . .

  Raj worked his way back towards Liam quickly. His six-foot-two-inch frame counted against him, and sweat poured from his face. Directly in front of him, the tunnels split into four. Three of the passages were decoys and he chose the fourth, turning left. A hundred metres later he hit another intersection and went right. This channel was three hundred metres long and littered with obstacles. His back and legs groaned as he moved through it, his eyes focused on the next junction. As he reached it, he heard a sound that sent shivers crawling across his skin like thousands of tiny spiders. It was the howl of a patroller, no more than two hundred metres away.

  ‘Bollocks!’

  He thought through his options, quickly settling on the only course of action. The tunnel entrance had been compromised and Liam was probably about to come scampering round the corner, chased by the demons. He wondered why the boy hadn’t followed his instructions and blown the hatch. Perhaps the attack had been too swift, or maybe he’d taken fright. It was understandable, especially in one so young. Raj cursed the fact that Mace and Tyrell had gone with Jonah. Had they been around, the odds would have been far better. Both his friends were experienced rebels, even though Tyrell was young, and they would have been useful in this latest fight.

  As it was, they weren’t present and there was only one option left if the Haven was going to be saved. He would retreat back to where he’d come from, seal the underground hatches and wait out the storm with May and the others. Hopefully the demons would get lost in the maze of tunnels. Even if they did find the hatch, the barricades might hold them back. Whatever happened, the Haven was the most important thing. Neither his life, nor that of Liam or anyone else, really mattered. Their sanctuary was all, and he would defend it to the bitter end.

  He wondered too about who had betrayed them. There was no question in his mind that someone had. The demons had never even come close to discovering them, and yet now here they were, chas
ing down the tunnels. He heard a thud from the passage that branched left, followed by the deep snarl of a patroller. Something else thudded against the earthen floor and bounced down towards him, once, twice, three times. It rolled into the junction between the tunnels and stopped.

  Raj found himself looking at the severed head of Liam, the eyes still wide in fear, the mouth set in a scream. He panicked then, trying to re-swallow the vomit that had worked its way into his mouth. Then, with heart pounding so hard that he thought it might burst through his sternum, Raj turned and ran. The only thing he’d forgotten, the one thing that was more vital than any other, was that the demons didn’t need to see him to know where he was going. They could simply follow his scent . . .

  Marko hadn’t forgotten to disguise his scent trail. He still had the small vial of lavender, patchouli and wild garlic oil that May prepared for everyone who took part in rescuing people from the Hunt. The sweet, pungent aroma worked brilliantly and seemed to affect the patrollers badly. He’d seen the canine beasts cough and splutter in the past when faced with its odour. They’d also proved too stupid to comprehend that it was being used as a cover. He’d made sure to rub the oil onto any exposed skin as he hurried back to the Haven. The trouble was that he’d stopped paying attention and taken a wrong turn, despite having assured Oscar that he knew the exact route. By the time he’d worked out and corrected his mistake, he’d lost nearly five minutes. He’d ended up scrambling along, trying in vain to make the time up, and finally reached the internal hatch in a breathless state, saturated in perspiration.

  Emily let him in, her eyes red from tears and her skin deathly white.

  ‘The tunnel’s been compromised,’ he told her as between them they frantically resealed the exit.

  ‘I know,’ she told him. ‘May has already warned everyone.’

  ‘How could she know?’ asked Marko.

  ‘Raj,’ replied Emily. ‘The demons have found both of the entrances.’

  ‘We’re dead, then,’ Marko said in a resigned tone.