Zenith Rising

by Gavin Zanker

‘Good,’ Woody said. ‘And with the little surprise me and Julian have in store for the Faithful later, things should go our way down south.’

  ‘I’m hearing a worrying amount of shoulds,’ Aiden said.

  ‘I’ve only been south of the Falls once,’ Woody said, ‘and I swore to myself I’d never go back. So if I tell you this is a dangerous journey, you’d all better believe me. If you want to turn back now, this is your last chance. No one will blame you. Everyone here needs to know he can rely on the man beside him once we get out there.’

  In the silence that followed, Aiden caught Dion staring at him. The ex-convict turned his head away and scratched at a scab on his arm. If Aiden only suspected before, he was certain now that things were going to come to a head on this trip. One of them wouldn’t be coming back.

  ‘Okay then, let’s move out,’ Woody said, hefting his pack.

  They climbed the ladder one by one, emerging into the barn. Once assembled, they set off in single file towards the south and the unknown, each lost in their own thoughts of the journey ahead.

  CHAPTER 29

  AIDEN STEPPED UP to the crumbling edge of the Falls where the sheer cliff fell away. An unnaturally dense fog clung to the trees far below, obscuring the ground of the Sinking Dust from view. He wasn’t sure there was anything down there except a wasteland of ruins. A fire burned on the horizon, releasing plumes of acrid, black smoke that drifted up into the sky. Flicking his tongue across his lips, he was sure he could taste burning plastic.

  ‘So we can climb down or we can abseil,’ Woody said. ‘Those are our options. Since most here aren’t seasoned climbers, abseiling will be fastest and safest. Any objections?’ He glanced at the group that stood in a semi-circle around him. ‘Good, now does anyone still not understand the knots?’ A few members of the group raised their hands and Woody showed them again how to secure the ropes in the friction loops that would let them control their descent.

  Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled. As the piercing sound faded away, an uneasy silence fell on the group anchoring their ropes to the trees and rocks scattered along the cliff edge.

  ‘Secure your weapon before you start,’ Woody continued, raising his voice for the benefit of the group. ‘We’ve got four lines, so that’s two men to a line. There’s no rush, so go at whatever speed you’re comfortable with. And don’t forget your ascenders,’ he said, holding up a metal device that looked like a staple gun, ‘or you won’t be getting back up.’

  ‘I can’t get mine working,’ Patrick moaned as his rope slipped through his metal loop again.

  ‘I’ll help freckles,’ Dion said, tutting.

  Patrick scowled. ‘I don’t need your help.’

  ‘Suit yourself.’ Dion shrugged and started pacing around, loosening up his shoulders as someone else helped Patrick.

  ‘You doing okay there?’ Woody asked, approaching Aiden who was watching the junkie carefully.

  ‘Yeah, fine. Just keeping an eye on things.’

  Woody leaned in close, the smell of leather and gun oil almost overpowering. ‘You’re worried about Travis?’

  ‘Travis is okay,’ Aiden said, glancing over at the Dawnist who was looking a little sheepish as he pulled on a tree branch, testing the sturdiness of his anchor point. ‘If anyone is going to cause problems, it’s Dion.’

  ‘You’re probably right there,’ Woody said. The ex-convict was busy tossing back a blue pill with a slug of water from his canteen. ‘The guy would lose a battle of wits with a sack of potatoes. Seems like you two have a colourful history.’

  ‘We make it back and I’ll tell you all about it.’

  ‘I’ll buy the first round then,’ Woody said, swinging his arms around to loosen up. ‘You want to share a line?’

  ‘Sure,’ Aiden said.

  ‘After you then.’

  Aiden took a deep breath as he slowly lowered himself backwards over the edge of the cliff, trying to ignore the churning in his stomach. Satisfied the rope would hold, he began his descent, walking down the sheer cliff with his legs elevated in front of him, playing rope out through the friction loop to control his speed. Woody followed after him, and soon everyone was making their way down, swaying across the vertical rock face in the cross winds.

  The descent was uneventful, until they neared the top of the fog. A panicked cry rang out. Aiden looked across to see Patrick scrabbling at the rock face, sliding down at an uncontrolled speed. Below him, Dion was descending on the same rope. Dion barely has time to look up before they collided, sending them both into an uncontrolled fall together. They plunged into the fog, their cries becoming muffled until there was a low, muted impact.

  And then silence.

  Everyone hung on their lines, frozen in place, gaping at the fog below.

  Woody’s voice cut through the blood pounding in Aiden’s ears. ‘Keep moving! Everyone keep going!’

  Aiden forced himself to stop staring at where the two men had fallen. He turned his attention back to the descent, gripping the rope so tightly his knuckles had turned white. He continued down, and a few moments later, his senses were enveloped as he slid under the dense fog.

  CHAPTER 30

  A KNOCK AT JULIAN’S office door roused him from his thoughts. He dropped the pen he had been tapping on the desk and called for them to enter.

  Grace moved into the doorway. ‘Mind if I join you?’ she asked.

  ‘Can’t sleep?’ he asked, noticing the lines of fatigue around her eyes.

  She shook her head. ‘Not a wink. I saw the light on and figured you might want some company.’

  ‘Take a seat then,’ he said, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk. ‘I’ve got just the thing.’ He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of scotch and a couple of glasses.

  She closed the door behind her and sat down. ‘You keep a bar in your desk?’ she asked.

  ‘You don’t?’ he said as he passed her a drink.

  ‘Just one then,’ she said, running her finger around the rim of the glass.

  ‘So you want to tell me what’s bothering you?’ he asked, ‘or do I need to bug it out of you?’

  She smiled weakly. ‘Just worried about the plan I guess. Anything could go wrong down there. And what happens then? We’d be right back where we started. Worse off, even.’

  ‘We did our homework. We prepared as well as we could.’ Julian threw back his drink, enjoying the burn in his throat. ‘And we sent out capable men. There’s nothing more we could have done.’

  ‘I know. I just…’ She trailed off and sipped her drink, wincing.

  Julian grabbed the bottle and poured himself a second measure. ‘Can I confide in you?’

  ‘Of course, you know that.’

  ‘You knew Malcolm, didn’t you?’

  ‘I met him a few times, sure.’

  ‘I’m still struggling to wrap my head around him turning. Just like that.’ Julian snapped his fingers. ‘It threw me. I thought my judgement of people was sound but now… I’m finding it hard to trust anyone.’

  ‘That’s understandable. How long did you work together?’

  ‘Six years,’ Julian said, staring past Grace at the faded paint on the door frame, the spot where the grey-haired man had stood countless times. ‘I thought of us as friends. I had no idea anyone could be that devious. How can someone make their whole life a lie like that?’ Julian drained his glass and sighed. ‘I just got news of a third board member found dead.’

  Grace raised her eyebrows and leaned forward. ‘Third? I hadn’t even heard about one.’

  ‘I’ve been keeping it under wraps. Can’t have news like this going public.’

  ‘How did anyone even locate them? Aren’t they in hiding around the city?’

  ‘I don’t know what to think, honestly. One could be an accident. Two even, with the current state of the city. But now three?’ He shook his head and closed his eyes. ‘It’s clear someone is targeting them. If the entire board weren’t deep in hidi
ng already, they will be now. All terrified someone will get to them.’

  ‘You think the Dawnists are responsible?’

  ‘I doubt it. The board are a wily old bunch of lizards. They’re too careful to be taken out by thugs like the Faithful. The first happened before Samuel even showed his face. At first I just put it down to old age, but now it feels… different.’

  ‘Why didn’t you mention this to me before?’ Grace asked, taking another taste of her drink.

  ‘Well, it’s not something I wanted broadcast to the city. Not much chance of that with the radio station out of commission though, so I suppose it’s safe to tell you now. It’s hard enough keeping the Syndicate together with the Dawnists all over the city, if I told people that the board were being picked off? I might as well throw in the towel now.’

  ‘I see your point; you don’t want to cause panic.’ Grace finished her drink and placed her glass on a loose paper on the desk. ‘Who do you think is behind the killings?’

  ‘That’s not something I want to think about.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because whoever it is knew where the board members were hiding, they knew their routine, and they knew their weaknesses.’

  ‘Someone on the inside then.’

  ‘It’s the only explanation,’ Julian said, pouring himself a third drink. ‘But I don’t want to believe anyone here could be capable of something like that. The moment we start down that road, everyone turns against each other and we all fall apart.’

  ‘Let me ask you this,’ Grace said, ‘why do you still fight for the Syndicate if they abandoned you so quickly?’

  ‘The Syndicate is more than just the board members. There are a lot of interlinked parts, a lot of everyday people depending on this place running smoothly. Sometimes I feel like I’m only moving forward because of momentum.’

  ‘So why not fight for the people directly? You’ll do more overall good than working to line the pockets of those rich old coots who don’t care about anyone except themselves.’

  ‘Why are you so set on trying to help the people in this city?’ Julian asked, trying to deflect the conversation back onto her. ‘What have they ever done for you? I don’t understand what keeps you fighting while everything falls apart.’

  Grace touched a hand to her belly and looked down. ‘I want my child to grow up happy, in a place where they’re treated fairly, and not walked over by corrupt politicians and untouchable board members.’

  Julian’s mouth fell open. ‘I had no idea.’

  ‘No one does yet. You’re the first person I’ve told.’

  ‘Well now I understand a little better. Who’s the father?’

  ‘Robin. Back at the radio station.’

  Julian rubbed his goatee with his palm. ‘I’ve met him. He seems like a good man. Why isn’t he here with you now?’

  ‘He’s at the station, doing his best to stop the Faithful from ransacking our equipment.’

  ‘It’s not my place to intrude, but maybe you should let him know. I think he has the right.’

  Grace blew out her cheeks as she let out a long sigh. ‘It’s just not been a good time with—’

  Julian frowned, holding up his hand for silence. He rose from his chair and stalked over to the door. He grasped the handle and snatched the door open. Leigh fell into the office, tumbling to the floor.

  ‘What’s this then?’ Julian said. ‘A sneak listening in on other people’s conversations?’

  Leigh picked herself up and dusted off her clothes. ‘I was just, er, passing by. I’m doing a coffee run and wondered if you wanted anything?’ Her smile faded as she caught Grace staring at her with disappointment. ‘Okay, I was listening,’ Leigh said, hanging her head.

  ‘Leigh, you should know better than to snoop around in people’s private business,’ Grace said sternly. ‘You could get into a lot of trouble doing that.’

  ‘But there’s nothing to do around here,’ Leigh complained. ‘No one tells me anything, they all just think I’m a kid. At least if I collect information I can know what’s going on and try to be useful.’

  ‘You think we found our traitor then?’ Julian asked.

  Leigh squeaked at his accusation. ‘I’m not a traitor! Please, you’ve got to believe me. I would never—’

  Grace reached out and touched her arm with a smile. ‘Relax, Leigh. He’s just kidding.’

  ‘I don’t think a young girl like you would be capable of living a secret life as a contract killer.’ Julian closed the door and moved back to his seat. ‘No, we’ll have to keep looking for our traitor.’

  ‘Maybe I can help?’ Leigh said. ‘I’m pretty good at moving around and not being noticed.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Julian said. ‘I shouldn’t have even let this slip to Grace. And besides, without evidence, there’s nothing to be done anyway.’

  ‘But what if someone found evidence?’

  ‘Whoever is doing this is a professional. It’s unlikely they’d leave anything behind that would incriminate them.’ Julian looked at both of them. ‘I need you two to keep this quiet for now. If people found out, things would unravel fast. Can I count on you?’

  Leigh nodded firmly, obviously overjoyed at being trusted.

  ‘Of course,’ Grace said. ‘We’re a team now. Whether we end up sinking or swimming, we’re all getting out of this the same way.’

  CHAPTER 31

  ‘WELL DON’T JUST sit there,’ Dion grunted, clutching his bleeding leg, ‘get over here and pass me my canteen.’

  Patrick jumped up, tearing his eyes away from the bone that protruded from Dion’s left shin. ‘Where is it?’ he asked.

  ‘In my pack, genius,’ Dion said through gritted teeth.

  Patrick looked around behind Dion who leaned back against the tree they had crashed through. The remains of several branches lay scattered around on the short grass, testament to what had broken their fall. Fumbling around in the fallen pack, Patrick felt the touch of cool metal.

  Dion snatched it from him without a word. He popped another blue pill and tipped the flask up to his mouth, spilling some of the liquid down his shirt.

  ‘Does it hurt?’ Patrick asked, another wave of dizziness hitting as he watched fresh blood ooze from the gash.

  ‘What the hell do you think?’ Dion snapped, almost choking as he swallowed. ‘This is all your fault, newbie. If you hadn’t screwed up the climb, I wouldn’t be in this damn position.’

  Patrick rubbed his aching shoulder as he squatted down beside Dion, but thought better of complaining about the angry bruise that was spreading there. ‘Sorry,’ he said again. ‘Should I go for help?’

  ‘No way,’ Dion said, screwing the top back onto his canteen and smacking his lips. ‘You’re staying right here with me until the others find us. You messed this up, so you don’t get to walk away.’

  ‘What if they can’t find us though?’ Patrick stood and gazed out into the milky haze that encircled them. ‘The fog hasn’t cleared at all. They might not be able to see us.’

  ‘So make some noise then,’ Dion said, resting his head back against the tree. His face was pale and tight from pain.

  ‘Hello?’ Patrick called out, cupping his hands to his mouth. ‘Is anybody out there?’

  His voice echoed as if in a cave, leaving him feeling even more claustrophobic. He shivered and pulled his jacket closer. He didn’t want to stay here, especially not with Dion. He wondered what the gang member could really do if he decided to go find the others. As if to answer him, Dion removed the Model 12 from the sling around his neck and held it across his lap.

  Patrick sighed and took a seat against one of the thick tree trunks, rubbing at his shoulder. He closed his eyes and took a few breaths to try and quiet the paranoid voice in his head. The group wouldn’t leave them behind; Aiden and Woody weren’t like that.

  As he opened his eyes, he caught a flash of movement in the fog. He squinted, unsure if he had imagined it or not.

 
; ‘Keep yelling, newbie,’ Dion said. ‘Give them something to hear.’

  Patrick shushed him quietly as he scanned the gloom.

  ‘Don’t you shush me, boy! I told you—’ His voice trailed off as a set of yellow eyes glinted out of the fog nearby. In a heartbeat, Patrick was on his feet and fumbling for his rifle. ‘Who’s there?’ he called out, his voice wavering.

  A low, guttural growl came out of the numbing fog; a sound that spoke of gnashing teeth and savage violence. The hair on Patrick’s arms stood on end.

  Two more sets of eyes appeared.

  Dion, his chest heaving up and down, shouted something incomprehensible and fired his shotgun in their direction. The explosion of light and sound disarmed Patrick’s senses. He covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut as Dion kept pulling the trigger, firing until the last shell ejected from his gun. Patrick opened his eyes, blinking rapidly as the flashes of light faded from his vision.

  After a moment, there was another snarl that seemed to come from every direction at once. Either Dion had missed, or whatever was out there didn’t care about a hail of buckshot. Patrick levelled his rifle, swinging it left to right in a panic as he searched for a target. Any target.

  A shadow moved from behind a tree.

  He pulled the trigger. The gun didn’t fire.

  He realised too late that the safety was still on; as he reached to flick it off, his trembling hands fumbled the weapon and dropped it onto the soft earth.

  Before he could move, a blur streaked towards him. He gasped and froze, waiting for sharp teeth to sink into his flesh.

  But the pain never came.

  A retort of gunfire rang out and something heavy knocked against his leg. A shaggy wolf lay at his feet, gashes of red staining its matted, grey flank as its head lolled. It looked like all the most unyielding and harsh parts of nature rolled up into one predator. As Patrick stumbled back, removing his foot from under the beast, a figure emerged from the fog, rifle in hand. Patrick recognised the field jacket and relief surged through him.