ARC: Peacemaker

by Marianne de Pierres

  My phone started buzzing before we reached the top but I couldn’t risk taking it out to read it until we reached the summit.

  Benny knew this path well and she paced herself on the steeper sections, giving a little whinny of satisfaction when we reached the top.

  Papa Brise and his men dismounted around me and we stood on the plateau gazing up at the night sky. I took their silent, solemn gazes to mean they were impressed and a little awed. That’s how I felt looking out at the stars right now; humbled but scared and angry that it was being violated.

  That anger came from my core, fueled not just by my beliefs but by my dad’s and the fact that it had somehow cost him his life.

  My phone beeped a reminder that I had to check my messages. It was from Caro.

  Bull has search parties out for you. Something’s going on. Ditch your phone. Cops been here too.

  “Crap!”

  Hamish appeared next to me. “Cold feet, Ranger?”

  “The Park agency is tracking my phone. And the cops are out looking to arrest me for murder,” I whispered.

  “Popular,” he said.

  “That’s one word for it.”

  “Why did you jump in front of me back there in stables?” he asked.

  “They were twitchy,” I said, inkling my head towards the others. “Didn’t want them… you know… shooting you.”

  He nodded slowly. “Don’t ever do that again, you understand. I can take care of myself.”

  “You’re welcome. Message received.”

  I turned my back on him and spoke to Papa Brise and his men. “I’m going to have to lose my phone which means I won’t be able to set destinations for the horses. You’re actually going to have to ride them.”

  The four of them glared back at me like they might be happy to end all my problems right now with a bullet or ten, so I tried for reassurance. “Look, they’ll follow my horse out of habit, so just stay calm and it will be fine.”

  Papa Brise spat on the ground. “Fuckeen women. Always changing the fuckeen story.”

  I cleared my throat and moved away a few steps before I said something I regretted.

  “That went well,” said Hamish in my ear again.

  “Look, all I care about is getting the Marshall back.”

  “Sounds… intimate?” he said.

  I threw him a hostile stare. “No. But I owe him. And… he means well.”

  To my astonishment, Hamish chuckled. “Well I wouldn’t be wishing for that as a eulogy on my tombstone.”

  “I don’t intend it to be on his either.”

  “Well,” said Hamish, his head tilted upward. “It looks like you’re up.”

  I saw the flash as well, like a small burst of lightning high in the north-west sky. I got a compass bearing and ran it through the Park map on my phone. It was on a direct trajectory towards Los Tribos.

  Dad was right.

  A gust of wind brushed my face and Aquila fluttered past to land on the ground between Hamish and me. Her grey and brown colouring rendered her almost a shadow in the moonlit dark but her eyes had an eerie buttery glow.

  “What are you staring at?” said Hamish.

  I lifted my gaze from her and raised my voice. “That’s it fellahs… over to the west. Time to ride.”

  I reset the horses’ GPS for the last time.

  “Once we’re on the flat, we’ll have to move at speed. Try and relax in the saddle,” I added.

  “Fuck you,” said Papa Brise.

  I took that as an affirmative, threw my new phone over the edge and sent Benny down the slope.

  By the time Hamish, the last in line, hit flat ground, my stomach had begun to churn.

  “Put out your lights and stay close,” I said, urging Benny into a canter.

  Our small posse rode into the west, the horses’ hooves silenced by soft sand and the whip of the breeze. On instinct, the animals stayed bunched together under the moonlight and I kept Sombre Vol to my right, away from the others. He pranced and pulled, anxious to be free of me but I held tight to the reins and spoke soothingly to him.

  As we rode closer towards Los Tribos, the darkness and the dip of the dunes was our cover. The sliver of lighting we’d seen high in the sky had disseminated into a large gyro-drone with hooded landing lights.

  We reined in and watched from a distance. The fingers of Los Tribos stood silhouetted against the lights, as if they were poised to cup the aircraft.

  “Looks like army shit,” said Papa Brise.

  “Not army,” said Hamish squinting through a night scope he’d produced from his bulky kit.

  “What would you fuckeen know? And who the fuck are you anyway?”

  Hamish didn’t reply, but he dismounted. “No markings on it, Ranger. We should walk the rest of the way.”

  He was right. Any closer and we risked being caught in the gyro’s landing lights.

  Left untethered, Benny and the others would stay together. Sombre Vol was my only concern. The horse was half wild still but I couldn’t tie him to Benny and risk them hurting each other if they got spooked.

  I dismounted and let go of both sets of reins. The others followed my lead.

  Benny sloped off a short distance then settled into a resting pose, one foot lifted. The others gravitated towards her, but Vol gave a triumphant buck and galloped off in the direction we’d come.

  “Damn.” I went to pick up Benny’s reins to remount.

  “Leave the horse!” said Hamish in a quiet voice. “We stay behind that one,” he said, pointing to the index finger of Los Tribos. “It’s got the widest base. With no comms, we need to stay together.”

  I nodded. “OK. Fine.”

  Hamish unzipped his pack and in several quick, practiced movements slotted together a small rifle of a kind I’d never seen. At least I think that’s what it was. Though it had the basic rifle shape there didn’t appear to be a trigger, only a switch, and the nozzle was wide like a miniature satellite dish.

  His action attracted the attention of the Mystere guys. They watched intently as Hamish slotted a bulky square battery onto the top of the weapon and slung the whole thing across his back.

  He then produced a second rifle, similar to their own, but with a belt of tiny, case-less cartridges which he wound around the butt. He positioned that across his back as well then hit the ground and started crawling.

  Something changed in the MY3 guys’ attitude. Without bidding, Papa Brise and the others slung their semi-autos the same way.

  I shifted my holster around to the small of my back as well and hit the sand next to Papa Brise. “What’re those rifles he’s got?”

  He turned his sweaty, sandy, tense face towards me. “Just do what the fuckeen man says, Ranger.”

  The man? Shit.

  I squirreled across gravelly sand after the others toward the solid rock protrusion. My pistols bumped against the small of my back and sand got in my mouth and eyes.

  I was the last to the rock. Hamish was already at one edge with his scope glued to his eye. Papa Brise had taken the other side and his men sat in the middle with their backs to the rock, carefully blowing sand from their weapons.

  Hamish beckoned me to his vantage point.

  I had to lean in close to him to see and he smelt of gun lube and particularly musky cologne.

  “One gyro-drone, one cushion-bus, twelve bodies, five armed.”

  I cleared my throat over a dry spot. “A hover-bus?”

  He handed me the scope. “See for yourself.”

  I took it and adjusted the lens until the people and objects sharpened into view. There seemed to be an exchange going on alright: people transferring from the gyro to the bus. Well dressed, everyday kind of people who would look comfortable in a suit. No gang tattoos, no singlets, no hardware. Not what I expected.

  “It’s one of our tourist buses doing the pick-up. Can’t see who’s driving it through.”

  The doors on the bus opened and two figures emerged. Kadee Matari
was the first out, falling onto her knees in the sand.

  I heard Papa Brise swear under his breath.

  The second figure stumbled but did not fall. I’d have known him without the scope and a huge surge of relief flowed through me – Sixkiller was alive.

  “He’s there,” I said.

  With them off the bus, the dozen who’d been on the gyro climbed into the bus. “They’re bussing them out now,” I said. “I don’t want a shoot-out. I just want the Marshall and Kadee Matari safe.”

  “Who?”

  “There’s a woman with him. She’s… important.” I inclined my head towards Papa Brise.

  He made an impatient noise. “You never mentioned her before.”

  “I wasn’t sure that she’d even be here.”

  “What did I tell you about fuckeen women?” muttered Papa Brise.

  I handed Hamish back the glass. “We should move in after the bus has left but before the gyro takes off.”

  “Not much margin for error,” he said.

  “The Marshall’ll find a way to delay the drone if he has to. You call it. Leave it as long as you can so the bus is on its way. That will take two guards out of the equation.”I looked across at Papa Brise and the others. “You got that? Hamish calls it.”

  Quick curt nods.

  “But the Stoned Witch is ours,” said Papa Brise.

  “Yes,” I said. “And the Marshall stays with me.”

  “Agreed.”

  I crawled across to where Papa Brise crouched and handed him the spare phone in my pocket. “There’s one number in here. It will get you Kadee Matari’s people. They’re waiting for the call.”

  He raised his eyebrows as he took it.

  “Let’s go,” said Hamish.

  We all got to our feet, ready to move.

  Hamish kept the scope to his eyes, hand steady.

  I couldn’t see Aquila but she was close. I could feel her.

  “Now!” whispered Hamish.

  We emerged from behind the rock finger at a run. Or as close to as we could in the soft sand.

  Sixkiller saw us first because he shoved Kadee Matari in the back so she fell again. His action distracted the guards and Hamish dropped one of them with a single shot. His partner fired twice; one close zinged by me, the other took one of Papa Brise’s men in the shoulder.

  The MY3 gangster lordlet out a roar of fury and sprayed the shooter and the drone with semi-auto fire.

  The gyro lifted almost immediately, and set off a volley of return shots from auto-cannon’s mounted above the skids.

  We all dove face first into the sand, except Hamish, who fell and rolled.

  As the gyro propelled towards us, nose dipped, cannons set to obliteration he clicked the battery into a locking position and pressed the switch.

  The gyro’s rotors slowed, all the lights dimmed, and it sank like a stone.

  The impact made a whoof sound like a huge wave crashing on the beach and sand pelted us with the sting of thousands of tiny bullets.

  When I dared to look up, I saw a crater had formed in front of us with the gyro half-buried at the bottom.

  Papa Brise and his men were all alive, bodies caked in sand like me. But Hamish was upright and already advancing, having switched to carrying his assault rifle.

  He climbed aboard the gyro and disappeared inside.

  I saw Aquila then, as well, on the tip of one the skids, preening her feathers in an unconcerned manner.

  Thanks for the warning, I thought at her with heavy sarcasm.

  But her head never lifted from her delicate task.

  “Virgin,” called a hoarse voice.

  The Marshall was kneeling on the opposite bank of the sand crater with his hand pressed to Kadee Matari’s side. She looked small and fragile beside him and she wasn’t moving.

  “Is she alright?” I called back.

  “Gunshot. Needs medical.”

  I glanced at Papa Brise. “I’ll find the horses and get my kit. Best we get out of here, in case the noise registered with the Park surveillance – or the people on the bus.”

  “What is this Godforsaken fuckeen place? Sand and shit and more fuckeen sand,” he groaned, dusting himself down. He signaled his two uninjured men. “Bring the Stoned Witch.”

  “What about medical help?”

  “We use our own people.”

  I remembered the mute girl and nodded. “Fine. Just make sure you let her people know you’ve got her. I want them off my back.”

  “Don’ you fuckeen worry, Ranger,” he patted the phone in his pocket. “I will.”

  He got up and watched his men struggle across the crater, past the disabled gyro, towards the collapsed body.

  I motioned Sixkiller to let them take her and I started back past the rock finger towards where we’d left the horses.

  They hadn’t strayed far, despite the gunshots and Benny came on my whistle. The others ambled after her and I collected all their reins.

  I petted her and hugged her nose. “Clever girl.”

  As I led them back, Sixkiller met me near the base of the rock finger we’d hidden behind.

  “You figured it out,” he said quietly.

  “Some of it. Enough to work out they were trafficking through the park. But that was more thanks to my dad’s journal.”

  I think he smiled at me, but it was darker in the shadow of the rock, and hard to tell.

  “Thank you for coming.”

  No mistaking the emotion in his voice though.

  “I think I owed you,” I said awkwardly. “Are you… whole?”

  “Hungry, pissed, but whole. I won’t forget you did this, Virgin. Though I was expecting the cavalry.”

  “Bull had a plan. But mine was quicker.”

  He glanced back in the direction of the fallen gyro. “Pretty glad about that.”

  “Do you know where they were taking you?”

  “No. But I recognized the driver.”

  “Oh?”

  “He was talking to your friend Corah at the reopening of the restaurant.”

  “Corah?”

  He drew in a breath that sounded like a disappointed sigh. “Yeah.”

  “I think we’ve got some probably got some more sharing to do Marshall, when we get a moment.”

  A nod and no protest.

  I handed him Benny’s lead and lowered my voice. “There was nothing supernatural going on though. Just some criminals breaking the law.”

  His gaze strayed to the sky and the horizon. “Right.”

  “You’ll have to double with me on the ride back. I brought Vol for you, but he bolted when I had to leave them untethered.”

  “Figures. Who took out the gyro with the pulse rifle?”

  “You’ll meet him soon.”I glanced around and then back at the horses. I was one mount short – the mare that Hamish had been riding. “Or not.”

  “Not easy to come by. Illegal in most places because they wreak havoc.”

  “That sounds like him.”

  “Ranger!” called Papa Brise. “Come and stop this bitch from fuckeen bleeding all over me.”

  I grabbed my kit bag off Benny. “Come on. Let’s get moving.”

  I sprayed glue on Kadee Matari’s wound and it sealed almost immediately. She didn’t regain consciousness though, as we passed her up to Papa Brise on his horse. He held her slight body surprisingly gently, while he waited for us to mount.

  I ministered quickly tohis injured man’s wound as well and stuck him with a pain-quill. Hard to say how serious it was, being the shoulder. I wasn’t sure where the bullet had lodged, only that it was hurting the guy like hell.

  He nodded gratefully as the pain-quill took effect and I held his horse’s head for him and gave him my knee to get up.

  I hit the saddle next and then lastly, Sixkiller. His long body cupped around mine, his legs dangling, toes kicking at my heels. I hadn’t doubled with anyone on a horse since I was a kid. It wasn’t much the same as my memory.


  We struck out towards the south on my dead reckoning, using the distant outline of the butte and the lay of Los Tribos as my bearing.

  The silence was only broken by the snuffle of the horses and the occasional moans from Papa Brise’s injured man.

  Sixkiller’s body was warm and sticky against mine but he didn’t bother me with questions or conversation. Both of us were too exhausted. At one stage he sagged heavily against me, his head knocking on my shoulder.

  I lifted my elbow into his ribs to wake him up, and it didn’t happen again.

  Aquila seemed to have vanished once more and I pondered her apparent indifference at the events that had just unfolded. It was as if, she had turned up to sightsee, not to warn me.

  When the dunes finally intersected a clay-packed road, I knew we were only about ten kays from the Interchange.I heaved a silent sigh of relief as Benny’s feet contacted harder ground. She lifted her head, knowing home was close. Even with her augmentations, Sixkiller and I were a heavy load.

  Dawn was nearly on us too, and I could see better. The windmill and pump house came into sight first. Then the ring of palm tree silhouettes. I turned Benny and did a loop of our posse.

  Still no sign of Hamish.

  I wasn’t sure whether that was a problem or not, but decided to deal with immediate issues.

  “Soon as we get to the Interchange, you get out of here, get her fixed up. I’ll have to stable the horses first. You know the way out,” I said trotting up alongside Papa Brise who cradled Kadee Matari in his arms. She looked asleep not unconscious.

  “Hope you got remembered the fuckeen door key, Ranger?”

  “Opens with a movement sensor,” I said.

  “Not gonna have to ask me twice,” he said through tight lips. “God-forsaken fuckeen place.”

  I nudged Benny back to the lead. She could smell the water trough on the other side of the palms and her gait quickened.

  As we drew even with the windmill and pump housing, the weight on my chest lifted. Made it!

  Then Sixkiller leaned close and whispered in my ear. “In the palms. Ten o’clock.”

  In the grainy dawn my senses seemed sharpened. I saw a huge shaggy bison standing there, head raised as if sniffing the air.