by Grant Price
It was made of wood.
The facade had been expertly painted to resemble the concrete blocks stretching away to his left and right, but it was definitely wood. Without getting up close, it was impossible to tell the difference.
Wyler looked on with a faint smile on his lips. ‘Smoke and mirrors. It’s what they’re good at.’
‘How do we open it?’
‘We climb. There’s a ladder over that way. Stick close to the wall, babe. Everywhere else is mined.’
They left the track and scrambled up the embankment. Wood gave way to concrete again. Cassady kept his eyes on Wyler’s broad back. His legs shook, his shoulder brushed the wall and his clumsy boots knocked loose stones back down the incline. He cursed. He couldn’t see a ladder anywhere. His mind raced and now he couldn’t remember why he had decided, once again, to place his trust in the man in front of him. If Wyler still wasn’t playing it straight, they were finished. Or he was at least.
‘Here.’
Wyler stopped by a tangle of foliage clinging to the wall and pushed aside a few of the branches. ‘Take a look.’
Bricks no larger than the heel of a boot extended from the concrete in two rows to the top of the wall. It was a crude way to break into an isolated state, but it would do. The wild man took the lead. Cassady observed Wyler’s deft climbing technique, steeled himself and started his ascent. The bricks were spotted with moss and mould. Despite his size, Wyler managed to swing himself onto the battlements with ease. Razor wire plucked at his clothing. Cassady followed at a slower pace. His face and hands were wet. Grit landed in his eye. The wall’s mouldy scent filled his nostrils. Near the top, a few handholds had been worn away and he found himself struggling to hang on. Desperate fingers dug into the masonry. He grunted, trying to find the reserves of strength that would propel him to the top.
A massive hand stretched out towards him.
‘No,’ he said through clenched teeth. His grip was slipping.
‘You don’t need to fear me.’
He reached out. Wyler grabbed his wrist and hoisted him onto the top of the wall. Together, they slid between the rolls of razor wire and dropped from the battlements onto a lower level.
Cassady shivered as he took his first proper look at Novus. He was inside. From where they stood, he could see the mud track unfurl between folds of rock and turn a corner. The pillboxes, open on this side, were vacant. There were no signs of human activity anywhere. They found a ladder and descended to ground level, then followed the wall back to the hidden entrance. The gate hadn’t been camouflaged on this side, and the wood stood out in sharp contrast to the concrete. A heavy metal bar sat in two brackets, and a chain had been strung across the gate and the wall and locked with a padlock for good measure. When the gate was open, the space would be just high enough for Telamonian to pass through without scraping the roof of its cab against the concrete. Next to the gate was a windowless cabin with its door closed. Cassady moved past Wyler and unsheathed his machete. If anybody was inside, he had to deal with them now. His hand found the door handle.
‘Don’t!’
He spun around, the blade jumping in his hand until it was centimetres from Wyler’s neck. The larger man stopped where he was.
‘Easy, babe. Easy. Odds are the door’s rigged. The gate, too. Your world ain’t the only one with scavengers. You can see they don’t have any eyes down here right now. So they wire the place instead.’
‘Is there anyone in there?’
‘It looks like a supply hut to me.’
He lowered the machete. ‘Do you know where the system is to disable the wire?’
‘No. But we need to find it if we want to get the gate open without bringing the whole of the Koalition’s army down on our heads.’
They didn’t have to search for long. Wyler’s practised gaze zeroed in on a clump of undergrowth growing near the gate and he pushed it aside to reveal a small black box. He unclipped a tool from his belt, removed the cover and yanked a pair of red and black wires out. Cassady held his breath. The tool snipped the red wire in half.
‘She’s dead.’
‘That’s it?’
‘Ain’t a reason to make it more difficult. Come on. They’re waiting, brother.’
At the gate, Cassady used a pick to make quick work of the padlock before unthreading the chain. Each man gripped one side of the metal bar shackling the wood to the concrete, lifted it with some effort, and dumped it at the side of the trail. They heaved on the liberated brackets. The wooden gate scratched against the ground and edged back. Cassady gritted his teeth and dug in and pulled until his feet hit grass. Sweat streamed down both their faces. They doubled over, sucking in cool air. The gateway to Novus was open.
‘Let’s check the hut,’ said Cassady, panting.
There wasn’t much to look at: three crates containing paint and tools, a couple of storage racks, a few bales of razor wire and some wooden beams. Cassady, aware their ten minutes was up, was ready to leave empty-handed when Wyler emerged from the back of the hut holding a small radio.
‘Can you get it working?’
‘I reckon so.’ The former agent extended the antenna, checked the battery, flicked a switch and adjusted the dials.
‘Shortwave?’
‘VHF. They’ve got batteries ten times as powerful as yours. The one in here,’ he said, pointing at the radio, ‘could power Telamonian for 48 hours if you worked out how to link it up.’
The radio crackled. A voice that sounded as though it was being forced through a narrow tunnel disturbed the quiet. It spoke in a tongue Cassady didn’t recognise.
‘What language is that?’
‘Sursilvan.’ Wyler cocked his head and listened. ‘And mine is rusty. But they’re searching for us. All along the wall, sounds like. They found the Zuisudra camp. They know we blazed through.’ He paused. ‘They’re still looking further north. They think you’ll try one of the gates up there. That buys us some time. But we ain’t got long before they start searching down here, too.’
‘Keep listening. I’ll bring the rigs up. You and Tagawa take the lead. Do we close the gate after we’re inside?’
‘No point. They’ll see the tracks anyway. Don’t waste time.’
‘Okay.’ He hesitated, wanting to thank the man but still not trusting him. Wyler didn’t miss it.
‘I understand, Cassady. I’d feel the same in your position. Before this is over, I’ll convince you I’m on your side. Count on it. Now go and get them. One more thing – when we start to climb, it’s gonna get cold. Real cold. They use a screen of clouds to stop the heat from getting through. You’ll notice it soon enough.’
Cassady turned on his heel and ran through the gate. Seeing the convoy disappearing down the mountain would break him. He sprinted to the bend in the road, ignoring the dizziness that tried to take his feet from under him.
The rigs were still there. He called to Tagawa in the Silkworm. ‘Pick Wyler up at the gate. Stay close. I’ll flash twice if I want you to stop. If you get tired, switch. Or hit the blitz pills. We can’t stop for anything now.’
‘Are you okay?’
‘Everything’s under control.’
Tagawa woke the Silkworm. A smile flickered. ‘Try to keep up.’
Ghazi’s gaunt face leaned out of the driver’s window and broke into a grin when he spotted Cassady. He ducked back inside and opened the passenger door. The engine sighed and the lights flashed twice. Further down the trail, Orion and Telamonian stirred.
‘This is it,’ said Cassady as he jumped into the co-seat and slammed the door. The Old Lady groaned as she rounded the bend and rolled towards the wall. The Silkworm had already passed through the gate. Wyler leapt onto the pillbox’s running board, radio tucked under an arm, and threw open the cab door. Orion and Telamonian chased Warspite’s shadow.
Cassady wound down the window. He could already notice a slight difference in the temperature. He reached behind the seat for his flight jacket
and beat the dust off it. His hands shook with adrenaline. The remnants of a world they’d never experienced were hunting them. The real battle started now.
The mountain trail promised death at every turn, folding around on itself like a tangled length of rope as it climbed higher into the peaks. As promised, thick clouds whose edges were tinged with green filled the sky and blocked out the sun. Warspite laboured up the narrow incline. In the co-seat Cassady stared straight ahead, eyes wide open, as though to look away would send them to their deaths. If they did go over, there wouldn’t be enough time to jump clear. He couldn’t even open his door without slamming it into the rocks. He’d stopped counting the hairpin turns that had Ghazi pulling the wheel all the way over just to keep them on an even keel. The mechanic hadn’t said a word for more than an hour. His gaze strayed to the side mirror every few seconds. The tyres were on the verge of slipping off into nothingness. Ahead, the Silkworm’s brake lights flickered like dying stars.
They hit a plateau and the black pillbox shivered and stopped. Ghazi switched off the engine, let go of the wheel and looked at his hands as though they belonged to a stranger. Tagawa slipped out of the cab and buttoned up his tunic against the cold. He crept to the edge of the track, lay on his stomach and poked his head into the void.
‘What’s he doing?’ asked Ghazi.
‘Maybe he’s spotted a drone.’
They were almost on top of the Japanese when he sprang to his feet.
‘Look,’ he said, throwing a ball of something towards them. Cassady caught it. It was cold and wet. He held it up to the fading light. Sunlight exploded in every shard. ‘Snow,’ he whispered. He pressed it to his lips and ice-cold heaven trickled down his throat. ‘Take ten. Fill the canteens.’
While Ghazi went to pass the command back to the other pantechs, Cassady joined Wyler in the Silkworm. The headset was clamped to the huge man’s ear.
‘Any news?’
‘Not much. They’re drifting south, trying to scare us out from wherever we’re hiding. Sounds as though half the military’s on the hunt. Once they discover we’re inside, they’ll have the drones up and sweeping. Then we’ll be riding our luck.’
‘It’s held so far.’
He’d never seen a drone, but he didn’t want to ask Wyler for a description. There were none further north, not that he was aware of. Even Faustine didn’t have one in her arsenal. He supposed he would find out what they looked like soon enough. More importantly, aside from Tagawa’s rifle they had no way to shoot them down. They would have to run.
Messages continued to buzz in the receiver. He leaned over and listened in.
‘What did you say it was called?’
‘Sursilvan.’
‘Is it a code? Like what the stations use?’
‘No. It’s a dialect of an old language. Mountain people spoke it. They translate some of the words literally and for the rest they choose terms that mirror their essence. Kind of beautiful in a way.’
‘Can you teach me it?’
‘Not unless you’ve got a few years to spare.’
Cassady knocked his head against the back of the seat and sighed. ‘Strange world you live in.’
‘Ain’t been my world for a long time.’
Before he could respond, Wyler sat up straighter and held up a hand for quiet. He pressed the radio against his ear, lips twitching as he made sure of the message.
‘They’ve found the gate. They’re coming. Advance party.’
‘How long do we have?’
‘With their vehicles? One hour, ninety minutes at the most.’
‘Get ready to move.’
Cassady ran to where the others were pushing snow into canteens and passing around barely edible rations, and relayed the news. Brandt threw a look at the Silkworm’s cab, but said nothing. They mounted up.
Getting back on the trail, Cassady thought, was like closing his eyes again after waking from a nightmare and being thrust right back into the middle of it. He would have taken over the driving, but Ghazi was in sync with the rig. It had become an extension of his body, every tick and vibration flowing through his veins. He had become the mass of metal distributed across six wheels. Warspite slid and spun on mud and then sleet as they climbed higher. More than once, Tagawa had to slam on the brakes, and Ghazi had to be just as quick. Cassady stretched his jaw to prevent it from locking up tight. He was desperate to chew on one of his last pieces of root. He wanted the numbness, the shards that were colder than the snow coating the slopes around them. But he had to hold on to all of his senses. The enemy was coming.
The next time the Silkworm stopped on the trail, Tagawa and Wyler both emerged from the cab and stalked to the edge of the cliff.
Cassady zipped up his jacket. ‘Switch her off. You stay here, take a break.’
Ghazi simply nodded and closed his eyes.
He trudged up the slope. The wind cut into his skin. Isolated trees bent towards him. Green was losing ground against white up here. Back in their world it didn’t become this cold until deep winter, which meant the technology keeping Novus shielded from the effects of the Change had to be more powerful than anything he’d ever dreamed of.
He joined the two Runners and looked out over a sea of rock.
‘What is it?’
‘Bridge,’ said Wyler, pointing down.
Thrown across a gorge at a lower altitude were two concrete bars. Without binoculars, he couldn’t tell how wide each bar was or how far apart they were from each other. There were no other man-made structures around.
‘I wouldn’t call it a bridge,’ he muttered. ‘More like the start of one.’
‘It’s how we get across, in any case.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘I don’t see any other option. This trail is going to take us down there.’
Something glittered in the sky and the three men instinctively threw themselves flat on the floor. A tubular black machine with vast wings glided above the tree tops. It banked left and made a lazy circle before passing over the concrete bars and disappearing behind the serrated outline of a mountain.
Footsteps slapping against the trail brought them to their feet again. Victor ran up the slope, arms pumping at his sides.
‘Engines,’ he shouted. ‘Petrol-fired.’
‘How many?’ asked Wyler.
‘I ain’t sure. Hearst reckons a dozen.’ His face was white. He stopped and bent over to catch his breath. ‘Thought they were right behind us, but it was the cliffs. They’re making a hell of a racket.’
Wyler turned to Cassady. ‘Count on them using quads. Maybe exos following up behind. They’re way more agile than us. We’ve got to get across that bridge before they catch up, or we ain’t going any further.’
Cassady stared at nothing. His rig sat in the middle of the track, trapped between an army and an abyss. His legs threatened to buckle with the realisation.
‘Brother?’ A dark hand closed around his forearm and shook him. ‘You in there?’
‘Get back to the rigs,’ he said in a monotone. Victor retraced his steps at speed. Cassady forced himself into a jog and didn’t stop until his hands found the cold chassis. He hauled himself into the cab just as Warspite rolled forward.
‘Ready to drive through the valley of the shadow of death?’ called Ghazi over the keening engine.
Cassady didn’t answer.
14
The concrete girders were two stitches tying together a jagged wound. It was the start of a bridge, nothing more, perhaps once intended to serve as the foundation for something much greater, but now left to rot under the snow. The Runners stood by the precipice, a chill wind slapping at their skin, and sized it up. A hundred calculations ran through their heads, but the only one that mattered was the odds of their survival. Hearst spat into the chasm and offered a curse that echoed off the cliff walls. Brandt and Wyler stood together a few paces away from the group. Neither man had spoken to the other, but their body language indicated a ren
ewed understanding between the two as they assessed the obstacle before them.
‘I reckon we can make it,’ said Victor slowly. ‘Width is okay and the bars are far enough apart.’
‘Not possible,’ said Hearst.
‘Only one way to find out.’ The boy grinned. ‘Besides, I thought you were supposed to be the best. I guess maybe that ain’t true after all.’
She scowled. ‘You go first. Then we’ll see.’
Ghazi sat on his own a few paces away, not listening to the conversation. He pressed his hands to his temples, then swallowed another blitz pill and chased it with the freezing mountain air. His entire body was shaking. Before the long incline that had taken them down to the half-bridge, he’d come to within a hair of dragging Warspite off the edge. Cassady had had to reach out with a wild hand to keep them on the mountain. He couldn’t get the truck across to the other side. Not in this state. Cassady would have to do it.
The other man stood leaning against the trunk of a tree, binoculars angled up at the mountain they’d left behind. He’d barely glanced at the girders since they pulled up in front of them. Ghazi forced his aching limbs into motion and limped over.
‘Cass?’
‘I see movement,’ he muttered. ‘Back where we stopped before.’
Ghazi held up a hand to shield his eyes. Vague outlines flitted at the limit of his vision.
‘Quads and exos. Wyler called it right.’
Ghazi waited for him to bark out commands to the others. An eternity passed in the meantime. ‘We need to get moving, Cass,’ he prompted. ‘Either we try for it now or we prepare for a fight.’
That broke the spell. Cassady lowered the binoculars and shouted across to the group. ‘Who’s going first?’