By the Feet of Men

by Grant Price

  The children lifted their weapons. Cassady hesitated, still standing on the cargo bed. Their eyes rolled around at the bottom of scooped-out sockets and their bones were visible under their skin. But they hacked at Hearst with quick movements and so Cassady lifted the machete high and ran at them. Pitiful yells stained the air as the blade connected with flesh and bone. He wanted to gag. The attacks of the youngest were easy to avoid. Hearst engaged them one at a time until none were left standing. The last adults in the group closed around Cassady, and as he lifted the shield to meet a blow from an axe the blade punched a hole in the metal above his forearm. He wriggled free and the shield fell to the floor. He jumped back out of the way. Cries of desperation mixed with the sobs of the wounded. Hearst scratched and bit and whirled her club, and the bodies piled up in the road.

  A high-pitched whine floated over the screams. Warspite rounded the corner and followed the path cut by Orion and Telamonian. Cassady wanted to shout with joy. Then a balled fist hit him square in the jaw and he fell. White fireflies buzzed at the edges of his vision. He struggled to focus on the face of a snarling woman raising a jagged rock, but he was too shaken to truly feel any fear, so he closed his eyes and missed the blur of motion that was Hearst barrelling into the woman. Once the threat was dealt with, she dragged Cassady to his feet and ran to find another opponent.

  A gunshot made a dent in the sky. Brandt fell back and landed heavily on his side. Still dazed, Cassady jerked his head around in search of the threat until he found it. A bald woman leaned against the bucket of an ancient excavation vehicle with a rifle clasped between wiry hands and the stock lodged against her shoulder. She aimed at Wyler, who stood over Brandt, and pulled the trigger again, but the hammer clicked and nothing happened. Cassady sprinted across the tarmac and careened into her. Her body smacked into the metal. Even as she shrieked, he grabbed her wrist and snapped the arm. The woman retched and fell unconscious. He scooped up the rifle and ran his eyes over the body. An old carbine with a deformed stock. The misfired bullet was probably lodged in the bore. Keeping an eye out for incoming threats, he closed the stock, slammed the butt against the ground and stamped on the operating rod. The chambered round flew out of the carbine. He brought it up again and aimed. Hearst wrestled with a tall, raw-boned man over the long wooden handle of an axe. The man kicked at her legs and knocked her to the floor. Cassady hoped to hell the rifle wasn’t jammed any longer and squeezed the trigger. The carbine bucked against his body and the bullet impacted between the man’s shoulder blades. The axe landed on the ground, centimetres from Hearst’s head. She rolled over and snatched up the weapon.

  Another gun fired, and Cassady held the rifle tighter. But this time it was Ghazi. A boy staggered away from the battle holding his stomach. Ghazi gave Cassady a short salute and ran across open ground to join Hearst. Cassady adjusted the sliding sight and dropped the remaining archer and his loader in the watchtower before they could scramble clear. He sighted again, but the pin clicked on an empty chamber, so he threw it to the floor. A weak hand grabbed his ankle. The woman had recovered consciousness and now tried to sink her teeth into his flesh. A swift kick to the temple dealt with her. Ghazi’s pistol cracked and another body went down. Panic rippled through the last of the Zuisudra. Their ranks had been decimated. As though a signal had been given, they turned as one to run for the tree line. Hearst launched the axe at their backs, but it missed and clattered on the road. They flitted between mutant tree trunks and disappeared. Hearst retrieved a machete from one of the fallen bodies and headed after them.

  ‘No,’ shouted Cassady. ‘Let them go.’

  She took another few steps, but stopped and dropped the weapon. She held up a hand to shield her eyes from the glare. ‘You’re bleeding. Are you okay?’

  His mouth opened and closed in surprise. He wiped at his forehead. ‘I’m alright.’

  She waited, saying nothing more.

  ‘We need to be ready to go as soon as possible. Do you have a spare tyre?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. Change it. Ghazi can help if you need it. We’ll search the bodies afterwards. And thanks for saving me. Again.’

  Then he remembered Brandt. He ran, vaulting bodies that twitched and moaned in the dying sun. Mounting despair turned his vision hot and filmy. Wyler was on his knees, stained fingers pressed against the old man’s neck, and an image of Katarina lying on the highway flashed through Cassady’s head.

  ‘Is he gone?’

  Wyler moved his fingers away. Muscles rippled under his shirt. ‘Relax, babe. He’s alive. The bullet only creased him. Take more than that to finish off this beast. He’ll wake up with some headache though. I can handle the rig until he comes to.’

  Relief filled Cassady’s lungs and he exhaled slowly. He surveyed the scene. Bodies lay like islands on a frozen river. The stench of fresh blood and long-unwashed skin clogged his nostrils. ‘Can you get him back to Tela alone?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. Mount up.’ He held out his hand to the other man. ‘We owe you one.’

  Wyler clasped it. ‘Just glad to be part of the team, brother.’

  He crossed the road to where Ghazi stood by the children. The mechanic’s eyes were ringed and bloodshot and his dark skin was as dull as ash. The bodies scattered everywhere caused him untold pain. The two men embraced.

  ‘Some fight you started here.’

  ‘Yeah. I thought we were all done. Are you hurt?’

  ‘No. You? You look terrible.’

  Shaking fingers prodded the flesh around his jaw and he winced. ‘One of them clocked me pretty good when Brandt showed up. Got a few cuts, too. Have you seen Victor and Tagawa?’

  ‘They were a few minutes behind me. They should be here soon.’

  Cassady reached to his belt for a stick of root, but he’d left it in the back of Hearst’s rig. It was a charnel house in there now. He’d have to help her clear out the bodies after she’d finished changing the tyre. She was busy levering the shredded tyre free of the rim with two lengths of metal. An axe protruded from one of the rear doors, and a severed hand clung to the handle.

  ‘Cass.’ Ghazi checked the magazine in his pistol as he spoke.

  ‘What?’

  ‘We need to finish off the wounded. It isn’t right to leave them like this.’

  His stomach heaved as he assessed the bodies. Any meat-eaters in the area would have a field day when they found the blockade. Three of the Zuisudra were still moving, including the woman with the rifle whose arm he’d broken. He grimaced. It was a bad business, but Ghazi spoke the truth. He picked up a shovel which had been honed until the three sides of the blade were sharper than his machete and trudged over to the woman while Ghazi took care of the other two. She lay in the shadow of the excavator, broken arm trembling. He stood over her. Her eyes pleaded and her mouth opened and closed, but no words emerged. She held out her hand. He closed his eyes and lifted the shovel. Don’t think about it. There was a crunching noise and a soft plop. He bent over and vomited.

  On creaking legs, he threaded his way through the bodies to the robed priest, who lay on his back with pupils frozen in horror. The wound in his throat was already congealing in the heat. Cassady checked the pockets of the robe and found a water filter, a piece of paper with a few markings on it and an expired pack of painkillers, which he deposited in his shirt pocket.

  He took a seat on a rusting drum and taped up the gash on his calf with a rag that looked clean enough. Hearst’s air compressor emitted a loud crack as she pressurised the new tyre. Her movements were a blur. He didn’t know how she had the energy. It took all of his strength just to help Ghazi make a search of the camp for supplies. He dug through crates while the other man checked the vehicles scattered along the road. There were no more bullets for the carbine anywhere. All he managed to turn up were a few meagre food rations. He gagged again as he ran his hands over the foul bodies that carried nothing of use. His temples throbbed and the fibres of his
body screamed for sleep. But there was no time for rest. They had to get away.

  As he finished his search, Ghazi called out a single word. ‘Water.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Two barrels.’

  ‘Fill up the bags and the bottles. Quick as you can.’

  The minutes fell away. Orion reversed over the bloodied ground until it lined up in front of Telamonian. Hearst leaned out of the window and flashed three fingers at Cassady as he loaded the water into the back of Warspite. The battery had thirty minutes of power remaining. It would be enough. Behind her, Telamonian ticked into life. One of the headlamps sputtered and died.

  Another mechanical whine signalled the arrival of the Silkworm, which rounded the hairpin and halted next to Warspite. Victor climbed out.

  ‘What the hell happened here?’ he said, inspecting the devastation. ‘Looks like we missed Judgement Day.’

  Cassady threw the last bota bag onto the cargo bed and turned to face the boy. Somewhere along the way, he’d hacked off his hair, and now only blonde stubble remained.

  ‘Zuisudra, we think. We’re okay. Brandt was hit.’ Victor’s face became tense. ‘Don’t worry. The bullet barely creased him. He’s sleeping it off. Where were you?’

  ‘Tyre blowout. Bad luck. Took us a while to change it.’

  ‘Should’ve asked Hearst. She just did one in ten minutes after taking out half their soldiers.’

  Victor grinned. ‘You sure you’re okay?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You’ve got a hot look in your eye.’

  ‘Running on empty right now. Don’t worry about it.’ His gaze flickered to the top of Victor’s head. ‘Why the cut?’

  ‘I dunno. Call it a change of mindset.’

  ‘It suits you.’

  Victor nodded. ‘We can take the lead. Ain’t a problem.’

  ‘Good. We drive for thirty minutes. That’s all the juice we’ve got. The road should end somewhere beyond the next corner. Follow the track that breaks left. Keep your eye open for any strays. A few made it to the trees, but I think they’ll be too busy licking their wounds to bother us again. Once you hit thirty minutes, stop and set up camp.’

  ‘I hear you.’

  Victor clapped him on the arm and returned to the Silkworm. Cassady took a last look at the blockade. One of the children’s bodies quivered and became still. He ignored the voice that told him to check. Instead, he hobbled over to Warspite and dragged himself painfully into the co-seat. When he heaved the door closed, the ringing in his head stopped. He was home. Ghazi punched the ignition and followed Orion. The convoy slipped through the debris and left the battlefield behind.

  12

  The vehicles sat nose-to-end in a laager formation. The air smelled burnt. Wind turbines spun on the roofs and solar kits sat splayed on the hoods. In the centre of the laager, the Runners patched up holes, checked the crates of medicine, wiped engines down, added coolant to thermal management systems and replenished brake fluid. They swilled out their dusty mouths with the water taken from the Zuisudra. Wyler treated Brandt’s head wound while he lay unconscious on Telamonian’s cargo bed.

  When they were done, they dropped to the ground and stretched and massaged their muscles. They were battered and bruised, but there was a new sense of determination within the group. They had been lucky to escape the blockade with their lives and trucks intact and they knew it. Tagawa unravelled a bundle of cloth to reveal an extremely old pot of raw honey, and they took turns dipping sticks into it.

  ‘Put it on your wounds,’ he said to Cassady. ‘It’ll take care of bacteria. Something my mother taught me.’

  The Runner did as he was told, dabbing the honey on his arm and thigh before heading over to Warspite and disappearing inside.

  Ghazi took out his whittling knife, but couldn’t bring himself to start working on the elephant. The rolling rattle of the cicadas mixed with his steady breathing. His thoughts were blurry and his soaked shirt clung to his back. He needed to let go, if only for a few moments. Forget the road, forget the mission. But he couldn’t. Beyond the laager, on the other side of the gravel track, was the fuselage of an airplane, long and tubular with creased metal skin and twenty blank eyeholes. Vegetation grew around, inside and on top of it. He stared at it, captivated by the notion that it had once flown high above the earth, able to cross seas and mountain chains and deserts. In another reality he might have been a pilot. Here, the Old Lady was the closest he would ever get.

  Warspite’s cab door creaked open and Ghazi regarded the thin, worn-out form that emerged with maps in hand. The peaked cap was back on his head. It made him look more like Cassady. He sat with his back to one of Warspite’s tyres. He’d kept it together well, drawing on the old fire to emerge from the battlefield alive. Perhaps it would prove to be the turning point.

  Ghazi walked over and sat down next to him. ‘Are we using Lupo’s road to get in?’

  Cassady set the map down on his lap. ‘I don’t know. I don’t trust it.’

  ‘The Koalition probably has eyes on it.’

  He nodded. ‘And they could have mined the road all to hell by now.’

  ‘So what do you want to do?’

  ‘Listen to the station report first, I suppose. Unless you’ve given up on them, too?’

  ‘It’s the last one we’ll get. Let’s hear what it has to say.’

  When it was time, they set up the antenna and sat together in the cab. Cassady spun the dial for the shortwave and opened the ledger.

  ‘Algernon. Never heard of it.’

  The storm of static beat against the walls. Ghazi consulted the timepiece. They had an hour or so of daylight left. Cassady would want to try to cross the border while it was dark, and he would want to do it tonight.

  ‘Algernon, Algernon.’ A metallic voice rasped the call sign, and several beeps followed. Then came the sequence of numbers and letters. The voice repeated it twice more and signed off. Cassady killed the radio and pored over the code, making notes in the corner of the page with a dirty pencil stub.

  ‘Same news they’ve been peddling all the way,’ he said, puffing out his cheeks. ‘Zuisudra pushing up from the south.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Runners are advised to stay away from main roads near the Alps due to hostile activity.’

  ‘That’s it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Ghazi shook his head. ‘Some report.’

  ‘I told you.’ Cassady closed the ledger and pushed it into the dashboard. He leaned back and rested his chin on his knuckles. ‘Now we have to decide. Let’s take it to the others and see what they have to say.’

  The Runners convened in the back of Telamonian so Wyler could keep an eye on Brandt. Hearst glowered at nobody. Victor ran his hand through hair that was no longer there. Tagawa leaned against one of the walls and hummed a tune under his breath, apparently unconcerned about what was to come. Cassady spread Lupo’s cotton map on a crate and pressed his finger against it.

  ‘You all know that according to Lupo, this is our best chance of getting in. It’s not much to go on, but I don’t have any other ideas. So I want to hear what you have to say.’

  Ghazi struggled to recall the features of the scientist, his accent, the words he’d used. But he couldn’t, not properly. He and the others had lived an eternity since leaving the Gaean camp.

  ‘What about hitting one of their main entrances?’ asked Victor. ‘This monster can take down the gates, no doubting that. Then we’ll go straight on through and stop for nothing. Or we blast them outta the way. The old man’s got some explosives around here somewhere, remember? Dynamite.’ He licked his lips and grinned and for a moment the hubris was back. ‘Said he wanted to use them on me.’

  Cassady eyed the boy. ‘No chance. We don’t know their numbers. Count on them having a ton of hardware with them. They’ll shoot out the tyres before we make it a hundred metres. Even if we did punch a hole in one of the gates, they’ll block the road furthe
r on and trap us. But if we take Lupo’s road and we go when it’s dark, we might be able to slip by unnoticed.’

  Tagawa spoke up. ‘There’s a Japanese saying that applies here, Cassady. Day may have its eyes, but night has its ears. Even if we use the road when it’s dark, they may hear us. I would prefer to face my enemy in the light. Then I’ll know whether to attack or to run.’

  ‘Hideki’s right,’ said Victor. ‘If the road’s under surveillance, we’re only putting ourselves at a disadvantage by running blind.’

  ‘Agreed,’ added Hearst.

  Cassady rubbed his jaw and turned to Ghazi. ‘And you?’

  He didn’t answer immediately. They would be driving through unknown mountainous terrain. Maybe the Koalition would hear the convoy at night and maybe it wouldn’t, but the risk of one of the trucks taking a wrong turn off the side of a cliff was too great. ‘It makes sense.’

  Cassady turned to Wyler, who rested on his haunches and stared at the unconscious form of Brandt. ‘You haven’t weighed in.’

  His response was soft. ‘No. I haven’t.’

  ‘So?’

  He placed a wide, flat hand on Brandt’s forehead before making his way to the crate and bending over the map. The twisted grey beard brushed against his stomach. A wormy vein stood out on his neck. His heavy eyelids fell closed.

  A shadow passed over Ghazi. Something was off. ‘What is it, Wyler?’

  The cloudy eyes remained shut. ‘I know another way in.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  He lifted his head and looked at the assembled faces. ‘There’s another road. The entrance is hidden well enough, but it’s there. I can take you to it.’

  Ghazi’s hand ghosted to the pistol. Wyler caught the movement.

  ‘Please, brother. You ain’t in any danger from me.’ Ghazi kept his hand where it was.

  A heavy silence stretched and nobody moved until Hearst slapped her thigh. The other Runners jumped. ‘You’re an agent. You work for them.’