by Gavin Zanker
‘Ah, Aiden. Welcome to the show,’ Julian said, glancing up.
‘This looks a little foreboding for just asking a few questions,’ Aiden said, eyeing the stark room. ‘The place just needs a few blood stains on the tiles to complete the family-friendly picture.’
‘Merely security,’ Julian said, waving his hand. ‘Nothing untoward is going to happen. We just don’t want Travis here wriggling away back to his little hidey-hole, do we?’
Travis mock smiled at him. ‘Wriggling? What, you mean like a worm? Charming imagery.’
‘How would you describe someone who makes a living of manipulating others?’ Julian asked.
‘So what did you want to speak to me about?’ Aiden interrupted, growing impatient. ‘You can’t have a way inside the compound yet, surely?’
‘You want to get inside?’ Travis asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘Quiet you,’ Julian said. He turned to Aiden. ‘I thought you might want to hear what Mr Kendrick has to say. I’m sure he can offer us a solution to your problem while explaining what him and his cult have been up to lately.’
Travis laughed without humour. ‘You all act like I have something to tell you,’ he said, ‘but you’re barking up the wrong tree. I can’t help any of you.’
‘You know, lying won’t make this go any easier for you,’ Julian said.
‘What reason do I have to lie? You think anyone is going to come for me? That’s not how the Dawnists operate. I’m just a tool, something to be used up and tossed aside. The trick was in keeping myself useful for this long.’
‘What are you blathering about?’ Julian said. ‘You’re the leader of the damn church. You’re the one that calls the shots.’
‘Not quite. Think about it, would the church risk sending out its leader to some backwater, inbred family just to secure a trade deal? You Syndicate lot must be denser than I gave you credit for.’ His eyes sparkled with amusement as he talked. ‘How did you manage to keep control of so much of the city for this long?’
Julian stepped towards Travis with a pointed finger, ready to launch a barrage of insults his way.
‘Let him speak,’ Aiden said, pre-empting the argument.
‘The real threat is coming,’ Travis continued. ‘Coming very soon. And if I were you, I’d leave the city; take anything that’s important to you and get out, because you won’t recognise the place soon. You’ll lose everything you’ve built here. It’s all about to be ripped out from under you.’
‘Real threat?’ Aiden asked, stepping forward. ‘What threat are you talking about?’
‘The Faithful are coming,’ Travis said. ‘Whether you believe in the Dawnist teachings or not is irrelevant; the Faithful do, they believe with every shred of their being. They’re already on their way, and nothing except a force of nature is going to stop them.’
THE DOOR TO the interview room flew open, hitting the wall and cracking a tile as a Syndicate man appeared, gasping for air.
‘What the—’ Julian said, spinning around. ‘Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something here?’
‘It’s the Dawnists, sir,’ the man said, his chest heaving. ‘They’re pouring out of the compound. There’s hundreds of them!’
A muffled rhythmic drumming began, as if a neighbour was shoving heavy furniture around. In the confusion that followed, Aiden spotted Travis’ smug smile and bolted for the door, sprinting through the hallways towards the front of the Brentford. He crashed through the casino, shouldering past people who were trying to get out into the street to investigate. He stopped at the nearest walkway’s railing and stared out across the canyon.
On the south side of the city, the Dawnist compound was brightly illuminated with harsh floodlights. Leaving the gates were hundreds of people in white uniforms, all carrying blunt weapons, from baseball bats to tapered, metal-studded clubs. They were spilling out into every corner of the city, slow marching to the beating of drums that sent loose pebbles and flecks of rust into the canyon. Through the countless mass of bodies leaving the compound, Aiden could just make out the Zenith Gate that led through to the inner compound.
It was wide open.
Leigh appeared, fingers wrapped around Hitch’s collar as they snaked through the people that were crowding for a view of the spectacle. ‘What is it?’ she asked as she reached him, but quickly fell silent.
Amid the surge leaving the compound, Aiden spotted a circle of empty space. Squinting, he watched one man being circled protectively as he made his way over the Coward’s Gap towards Oldtown. Was that the real leader who Travis had been talking about?
The watching crowd buzzed with excitement and curiosity as the Dawnists filtered through walkways, a wall of white spreading through the city. They sported shaved heads like monks, though it was clear they weren’t here to practice peace as scuffles began to break out. Soon people were running in fear from angry shouts and violent, clanging sounds. It would only be a matter of minutes before they made their way over to this side of the canyon.
‘We need to leave,’ Aiden said to Leigh, anxiety settling over him like a storm cloud.
‘Where are we going?’ Leigh asked. ‘Are we leaving the city already?’
Aiden cursed under his breath. They could sprint up out of the city, but it would mean leaving behind his sole reason for being here. As the decision fell on him, he stared at the compound, watching it swell and grow like a living organism. Leaving now was the only rational choice, but doing so would erase everything he had been working towards.
As the curiosity of the crowd around them morphed to fear, he grabbed Leigh’s hand. ‘Come on,’ he shouted above the voices, ‘we need to get inside before this turns bad.’ He forced his way back into the Brentford, making a wake in the crowd for Leigh and Hitch.
CHAPTER 15
‘CATHERINE!’ REINHOLD ROARED from his office chair. ‘What are you doing out there?’ It had been ten minutes already since he’d sent her to get some lunch. How long could it possibly take to put some food on a plate? The woman was barely worth keeping around anymore. He was starting to think it was time she met an unfortunate accident. Then again, Captain Ellington had been eyeing her for a while now; maybe it was time to renew the man’s loyalty.
A quiet knock came at the door and Catherine finally showed her face.
‘Three you are! I sent you out over—’
‘David?’ she interrupted, her voice wavering slightly. ‘There’s a man here to see you.’
‘Well tell him to leave, I’m about to sit down to a meal.’
An unfamiliar man entered, clean-shaven, well dressed, and with shoulders that didn’t seem to move as he glided into the room. Light glinted off his metal-rimmed glasses as he ran a hand over his neatly parted brown hair, seemingly without a care of the agonising pain Reinhold could have inflicted on him.
‘I don’t see people without an appointment,’ Reinhold growled, wondering how the idiot had gotten past his security. ‘If you apologise and leave now I’ll consider not having you thrown into the canyon for disturbing my lunch.’
‘David Reinhold,’ the man said, his voice soft, ‘your time as Mayor of the Rim has come to an unexpected, yet altogether welcome end.’
‘Who do you think you are?’ Reinhold said, heaving himself to his feet with a grunt. ‘Security, remove this four-eyed cretin!’
Samuel clasped his hands behind his back and smiled. ‘I’m afraid no one will be coming to help you.’
There was a sharp gasp from the hallway. Reinhold caught a glimpse of a hand on Catherine’s shoulder as she was guided out of the room. A second later, two impassive giants, who looked like they’d probably lose a battle of wits with a Ravager, walked into the office.
Reinhold tried to keep the fear from his face as he lowered himself back into his seat. ‘Well then,’ he said, gesturing with his hands, ‘you have my attention. Who are you and what are you doing here?’
‘My name is Samuel Benson. I am the leader of the Dawnist church and—’<
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‘Dawnists!’ Reinhold said, spitting the word. Damn cultists walking in here and thinking they can take over? Not on his watch. He reached into his drawer for the machine pistol he kept stashed there; it didn’t matter how big they were, everyone went down with enough bullets in them.
‘I suggest you don’t do what you’re currently thinking about,’ Samuel warned. ‘If you go for the automatic weapon in your desk, my men here will have to break all the bones in your fingers. I’m sure you don’t want that to happen, and personally, I have no desire to hear you scream and wail like a child.’
Reinhold froze, unsure how the man had known about the gun. He looked again at the two bodyguards with Samuel. Hard, rough men with shaved heads, chiselled jaws, and almost-cartoon sized muscles under their white, linen clothing. Men clearly accustomed to violence. He put his hands together, linking his fingers, and placed them on the desk.
‘There, now isn’t that more civilised?’ Samuel said.
‘If you would be so kind,’ Reinhold said, his voice dripping with venom, ‘please get to the point of your visit.’
‘I am here to extend the courtesy of an official declaration. As Divine Bishop of the Dawnist church, I declare that the Rim is no longer the property of your unethical and illegitimate authority.’
‘Illegitimate?’ Reinhold spat the word in disbelief at what he was hearing.
Samuel nudged his glasses up with a finger. ‘Simply put, I do not recognise your right to rule any longer.’ A gruff shout came from outside the office and the broad-shouldered Captain Ellington was shoved into the room looking ready to murder someone. ‘Your police are hereby officially disbanded,’ Samuel continued. ‘I urge you to order those remaining to stand down and relinquish their weapons.’
‘Why should I do that? My Captain and his officers are sworn servants—’
‘They are no longer recognised as official employees of the city,’ Samuel interrupted, ‘and any effort to regulate the city outside of Dawnist law will result in them being branded as vigilantes. Any who refuse to stand down will be thrown into the canyon.’
‘Mayor, you’re not going to listen to this little prick are you?’ Ellington said.
Reinhold shushed the idiot before he got himself brained by the two giants. ‘Now is not the time, Captain.’ His mind raced as he considered Samuel’s words. ‘Tell me, how can you possibly think you have the manpower to take over my city? My police force far outnumber your cult.’
‘Incorrect, I’m afraid,’ Samuel said. ‘As we speak, my Army of the Faithful, specially trained for their purpose of bringing order and light to the city, are flooding through the streets on a celebration of truth. They are now the city’s guardians.’
Reinhold looked to Ellington for confirmation. ‘He’s right,’ the Captain said, still glaring at the Dawnists, ‘I saw hundreds of the freaks out there as they swarmed Oldtown.’
Reinhold leaned back and drummed his fingers on the desk, his rings clicking against the dark, polished wood. It seemed the situation was more severe than he realised. ‘Why bother coming to speak to me then?’ he asked. ‘You must want something.’
‘You are a perceptive man, David, and far from incompetent. I am willing to let you keep a perfunctory role in the running of the city, as long as you are able to comply with the new laws.’
‘Comply,’ Reinhold repeated. ‘Would you care to explain what that entails?’
‘If you were to help this transition of power, then I would be willing to let you keep a comfortable job working under the new government.’
‘And the alternative?’
That infuriating smile touched Samuel’s lips again as he looked down at the Mayor’s hands. A chill ran down Reinhold’s spine as images of shattered bones ran through his imagination. ‘Very well then, I accept,’ he said.
‘Mayor, no!’ Ellington cried. One of the huge guards responded by slamming the Captain’s sternum with a hulking fist, causing him to slump to the floor wheezing. Reinhold shook his head at the man’s idiocy; he never had understood the importance of timing.
‘I’m glad you can see reason, even if your subordinates cannot,’ Samuel said with a satisfied nod. ‘I believe you should be capable enough to run the city’s prison. I forsee the incarcerated population growing significantly in the near future, so you will have your work cut out for you. In return, you will be allowed to remain in your present living arrangements.’ He gazed around the richly-decorated office with a distasteful look. ‘And there will be a possibility of advancement if you prove yourself loyal.’
Reinhold almost choked at the thought of running the prison full of criminals and murderers: menial labour for lesser people. Still, he didn’t have much of a choice here. He could always send Ellington to do the job while he worked on a plan to remove these pests from his city. A thought occurred to him. ‘If I have no officers, how can I be expected to run the prison?’
Samuel tilted his head as he considered the question. ‘A fair point. The Faithful will be too busy to help. Very well, you have permission to employ enough ex-officers to staff the facility.’
‘Agreed then,’ Reinhold said, holding out his hand and forcing a blank expression. If this moron was going to let him keep armed officers around, he doubted the cultists would be here long.
Samuel looked at the hand, his eyes creasing slightly. He reached out and shook it before pulling out a handkerchief and wiping his palm. ‘Then it is settled,’ he said. ‘I’m glad you could see things my way, David. I would have disliked having to crucify you.’
CHAPTER 16
THERE WAS A LOT of commotion as Syndicate security ejected people from the Brentford Casino. Julian was doing his best to organise the chaos, but struggled with people milling around like cattle, most afraid to go out onto the streets, some refusing to leave at all.
‘Are we going to get kicked out?’ Leigh asked from the empty Blackjack table where she sat with Aiden.
‘They’re welcome to try,’ Aiden said, flicking the cards on the table between his thumb and forefinger.
Julian spotted them and came over, resting his elbows on the table. ‘This is insanity,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I can’t have all these people in here.’
‘You’re kicking everyone out?’ Aiden asked.
‘Of course. I can’t let Syndicate headquarters be overrun by residents. They’ve all got homes they can go to.’
‘Maybe,’ Aiden said with a shrug. ‘Maybe not.’
‘What is that supposed to—’
‘Is that Grace trying to get inside?’ Leigh interrupted, pointing towards the main doors.
Julian waved to get the security guard’s attention and signalled to let her in. She forced her way through the crowd being herded in the opposite direction and took a seat at the card table. ‘Julian, there you are,’ she said, readjusting the shoulder strap on her satchel.
‘Now’s not really the time for an interview,’ he said.
Grace shook her head. ‘You’ve seen what’s happening, haven’t you?’
‘The city being taken over by cultists, you mean? Yeah, it’s hard to miss.’
‘We can’t let them do this; it’s dangerous out there on the streets. The Mayor and the police have already been taken out of the picture by those goons. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already climbed into bed together. So that just leaves you guys.’
‘What do you think the Syndicate will do?’ Aiden asked. ‘They’re just as bad as anyone else in this city.’
Julian threw him a sharp glace. ‘I take offence to that.’
Aiden shrugged. ‘What’s your point?’
‘Please,’ Grace said, ‘we have to stop this. Too many people will get hurt. And Aiden, the Syndicate aren’t as bad as you make out — they’ve helped the people of the city plenty of times in the past. I’ve seen it myself.’
Aiden tossed the cards down, scattering them across the table. ‘Funny, they promised to help me and yet I’m still sat h
ere waiting. Except now there’s an army between me and where I need to get to.’
‘What do you expect us to do now?’ Julian said, his irritation rising.
‘I expect you to honour your word. I held up my end of the bargain.’
‘We have some slightly more pressing issues.’ Julian jabbed a finger at the main entrance. ‘Those Dawnists might come crashing through those doors at any moment and this place could become a bloodbath.’
‘There’s no time to argue about this,’ Grace said, cutting them short. ‘For better or worse, the Syndicate is what we have left. You want to help, right?’ she asked, looking at Julian intently.
Julian glanced around at the people being shuttled outside. ‘Of course. Without the city there is no Syndicate,’ he said. ‘But the Syndicate has to survive.’
‘What does that mean?’ Grace asked.
‘Look, getting the whole board into one room is challenging. Getting them all to agree on something? That’s damn near impossible.’
‘I’m a reporter, Julian, I can recognise a brush off when I hear it.’
Julian sighed. ‘I’m sure I can swing the board to divert resources; this is an emergency after all, no one wants the city overrun with religious nuts. Just don’t expect them to go to war.’
‘Good enough for now. What about you, Aiden?’
‘What about me?’
‘Will you join us?’
‘I have my own problems.’
‘This,’ Grace said, waving her arm towards the street, ‘is now everyone’s problem.’
Aiden considered her argument. She wasn’t wrong, not really, and if getting into the compound was difficult before, now it would be impossible with the Dawnists occupying the city. But as angry at himself as he was, he couldn’t see how signing up to fight a guerrilla war alongside the Syndicate would help him or Leigh.
Zachary appeared from amid the leaving crowd. ‘What’s going on here?’ he asked, approaching the table as he unfastened the plastic buttons on his pea coat. ‘Sounds like people are about to start killing each other.’