by Grant Price
As Tagawa brought his foot down on the cab step, he turned to look up the hill. His eyes narrowed until only two flashes of white were visible. Slowly, he dropped his foot back to the floor, filled his lungs and barked a warning.
‘They’re here.’
Ghazi jerked his head around. Two humanoid machines, each with a single pilot, stood side by side on the road near the top of the hill. Exoskeletons. But they were nothing like the patchjob exos in the north. These ones were large, yet streamlined, with aquiline armour plating on the arms and legs. The pilots were barely visible behind the roll cage and harness and heavy chest plate, and their faces were encased in black helmets.
The two machines leapt forward at a frightening speed. Pistons rose and fell. A sinister mechanical wheezing filled the air.
‘Go,’ shouted Ghazi.
The doors to both vehicles flew open and then slammed shut. Cassady pumped the starter and flung Warspite into gear. Both rigs picked up speed as they rolled down the hill. The machines hammered the dirt and made a booming noise with each mechanised step. Ghazi kept his attention on the reflection in the side mirror. The Silkworm chased their tail as the machines bore down on the pantechs. Realisation gripped him. They didn’t have the head-start they needed to outrun the exos.
‘They’ll catch us.’
The response came through gritted teeth. ‘I know.’
As Ghazi watched, the Silkworm’s headlights flashed and the vehicle stopped dead. Without thinking about it, he pulled the ugly pistol free of the holster, flung open the door and jumped clear of the truck.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ shouted Cassady after him.
But Ghazi was already charging up the hill, away from Warspite. The pistol was a dead weight in his hand. The full clip Tagawa had thrown to him on the mountain sat in the grip, ready to be unleashed. Screeches and thumps landed like bombs. Helmeted heads bobbed behind the roll cage. The exos powered forward. Breath exploded from his lungs. He raised the pistol, but the front sight jerked up and down as he ran. Victor leaned out of the window and shouted something at him that was drowned out by the sound of metal striking the earth. Now the exos were close enough for him to spot a coloured insignia on the chest plate. The one in front raised an arm and bullets spewed out that rattled the Silkworm’s rear doors. He stopped in the shadow of the pantech, his finger dropping from the trigger guard, and he aimed at the exo and squeezed until the clip was empty. The slugs left impact marks on the chest armour. The last round split the pilot’s helmet and the exo fell to one side, a knee joint digging into the tarmac while the arm swung outward and emptied its bullets into the wall of a nearby building. Ghazi dropped to the floor and rolled underneath the truck.
The Silkworm’s top hatch flew open and a thin, pale figure dressed in black emerged. Tagawa plugged the old bolt-action rifle against his shoulder and aimed it at the machine that was still standing. Before it could bring its arm up to fire, the rifle roared and the pilot jerked in his harness. The legs of the beast became twisted. Tagawa cycled the cartridge and fired again. A mechanical arm reached out wildly and grabbed the top of the truck. The Silkworm groaned and sank on its suspension. A third shot at point blank range hit the pilot in the neck. The exo toppled over, tearing a piece of the Silkworm’s roof off as it fell. It whined pitifully in the dust. Ghazi rolled out from underneath the pantech, scrambled to his feet and, with his practised gaze, searched the machine for a control panel. Finally, he flicked a heavy switch on the arm and the exo fell still. From the first machine came the guttural moan of a man dying.
‘Are you hurt, Ghazi?’
He glanced up at Tagawa, who stood on the roof with the old rifle’s muzzle pointing at the sky.
‘No. Good shooting.’
‘Yes. It was.’
Victor climbed out of his truck and limped over to the machine Ghazi had taken down. He grimaced as he spied the gaping wound in the side of the pilot’s head. The man groaned.
‘Hideki, hand me your knife.’
Tagawa tossed it to the floor. ‘Too much death. I hope it’s worth it.’
Ghazi turned away. He didn’t want to watch. Warspite idled near the bottom of the hill. Cassady hadn’t gone far without him. He poked his head out the window and made a circle with his index finger. Ghazi returned the gesture.
When the moaning had been cut short, he removed the helmet from the pilot that Tagawa had killed. A well-fed face stared back at him through frozen eyes. Small tattoos ran down his left temple and cheek. He turned out the pockets of the pilot’s uniform and found a plastic card with a chip. He carried nothing else.
‘Look,’ said Victor. He pulled a rifle free from the arm of the exo. Sleek and compact, it was light enough to hold in one hand. ‘Yours has one too.’
Ghazi unclipped it and ran his hands over the weapon’s contours. Compared to his crude pistol, it was a surgeon’s scalpel intended for precision work.
‘Automatic?’ asked Tagawa from the roof.
‘Yes.’
‘One for each pantech.’
Ghazi made a quick search of the rest of the machine, and found two extra magazines and a container of water in a storage cavity at the rear.
‘Can she still move?’ he asked, nodding at the stricken Silkworm.
‘She’ll be fine,’ said Victor.
‘Then let’s get going.’
Ghazi tucked the rifle against his arm, pocketed the magazines and set off down the hill. His adrenaline was spent. Exhaustion reached out with a thousand invisible hands, indiscriminately twisting and pulling on every fibre. To dispel it, he tried to summon an image of the scientists hiding deep underground. Silhouettes in a white mist were as far as he got.
The engine was already singing. He placed the rifle between the seats and stowed the extra magazines. The seat pressed against his back, legs, arms and head; this was his own exoskeleton. Warspite left the deserted town behind.
‘That was stupid.’ Cassady kept his eyes on the road as he spoke. ‘Now you’re suddenly ready to sacrifice yourself for the others?’
Ghazi placed his hands on his knees. They were stained and calloused and the veins stood out like mountain ridges. ‘It isn’t the right time for this.’
‘You just risked your life to save them.’
‘Or to save us.’
‘Why them and not Hearst?’ insisted Cassady. ‘Are they worth more than she was? Where do you draw the line?’
The trail bent away from the rocky landscape. It flattened out and joined a gravel track that cut a meandering path through lush greenery. Cassady opened Warspite up.
‘Do you even have an answer?’
Ghazi let out a low breath that collected on the window pane. ‘I could say my mistake will haunt me until I die. But you know that already. Talking isn’t going to bring her back. And neither is your loss of faith.’
‘Faith,’ Cassady spat. On either side of the road anorexic trees leaned in to listen. ‘You’re always talking about faith, but you’re a hypocrite. You speak of people like they’re there for you to study, like you can see something I can’t. Let me tell you something. Spirituality means nothing if you throw it away in an instant of self-preservation.’
‘You could’ve gone down into that valley without me.’
‘And you would’ve taken the rig. My rig.’
‘We’ve gone over this already.’
‘You twist situations to meet your world view. That’s all you do. And she’s dead because of it. The blood is on your hands. You understand that?’
‘Do you want to hit me again? Do it if it helps. Stop the truck and kick me to pieces.’
Cassady looked over at him. ‘Goddamn it. Why do you have to talk like that?’
‘Because I’m on your side. We’re still in this together.’
The other man’s voice cracked. ‘Just leave me the hell alone, Ghazi. I don’t want anything to do with you.’
The town on the border had been left to wither in the sh
adow of the metal-and-concrete wall that separated Novus from the southern lands. Nothing stirred. No soldiers, no civilians, no wildlife. The two vehicles approached without caution, gunning it down a sharp hill until they reached a vantage point overlooking the town.
On the roof of Warspite’s cab, Cassady held the binoculars to his eyes and bit his bottom lip. Ghazi waited beside him. Sweat collected in the tough strands of his beard. They had finally emerged from under the bank of cloud and now the cold of the mountains was already fading into memory. This area of the state evidently didn’t fall within the Koalition’s pre-Change protection net. A familiar sun warmed the metal and the tarp and drew out its musty scent. Beyond the wall, a great sea of sand and scrubland lapped against the defences. Vehicle carcasses and a few rock formations sat under an infinite blue dome that made everything else feel insignificant. Other than the sand, it wasn’t much different to the north. Somewhere out there was a road that would take them to La Talpa. He cupped his hand to his ear and listened. The only sounds were Cassady’s breathing, the wind and the heartbeat of the Old Lady.
He broke the silence that had been in place since the exo attack. ‘See anything?’
Cassady didn’t answer immediately. The binoculars swished left and right. ‘I don’t see a way out.’ He swept the area. ‘Wait. That’s it. Over there.’
He pointed. On the western edge of the town, two rusted gates interrupted the wall. A tarmac road ended a few meters before the gates, flanked by two forlorn watchtowers and a sagging guardhouse.
‘We’ll try for it,’ said Cassady. His features were set.
‘The streets could be tripped.’
‘We’re going down there.’
He jumped to the ground and went to the Silkworm. Ghazi looked again. Some of the buildings closest to the wall were damaged. The ramparts near the gates showed signs that people had once tried to gain access to Novus from the south. But now the Koalition didn’t even station soldiers here anymore. Either they didn’t have the resources, or there weren’t enough people left alive in the desert lands for it to matter.
Cassady called up to Ghazi. ‘Let’s go.’
The Silkworm shook, waiting for Warspite to lead off. Ghazi strapped himself in.
‘What if the roads are mined?’ he asked again as they rejoined the track.
‘I don’t give a damn.’
They rolled past sandblasted buildings whose roofs had caved in. Sand and plastic piled against doorways and on windowless frames. Rebars poked through fleshy stone like snapped ribs. Faded black marks against the masonry spoke of fighting that had ended long ago.
The hood trembled. Ghazi peered beyond the front of the truck and winced. ‘Do you see that?’
Cassady nodded. ‘Let’s just get to the gate.’
The road was littered with hundreds of bones that had been bleached yellow-white in the sun. Warspite ground them up under its wheels. The sickening noise reverberated around the cab. Ghazi glanced in the mirror to see the pillbox close behind, its front mangled, the roof dented and deformed. The silver symbol no longer glittered. He retrieved the automatic rifle from between the seats and stashed the two magazines in his pockets. He wanted to be ready.
Warspite turned a final corner. The belt of tarmac terminated at a pair of sturdy gates spotted with rust and moss. Cassady kept his foot steady on the pedal until they drew level with the subsiding guardhouse.
‘Cover me with that thing.’
They slipped out of the cab and into dry and chalky surroundings. Ghazi held the rifle in both hands, fingers tight against the grip and body. He aimed at the watchtowers and the ramparts, but they were as dead as the rest of the town. Chunks of rubble had been cleared from the road and pushed into piles. At the wall, Ghazi backed up against one of the gates and felt the cool metal through his damp shirt. The Silkworm idled some way behind Warspite with its top hatch flung open. Tagawa held the captured rifle to his shoulder and scanned the nearby buildings for movement.
Cassady studied the gates. ‘They’re rusted shut. Too heavy to open by hand. If we can get that bar off and hook the winch up, we should be able to pull them open.’
Ghazi put the rifle on the floor and gripped one end of the bar that bound the two gates together. Cassady took the other.
‘Ready. Go.’
They lifted. Ghazi grunted and screwed his eyes shut. They were weaker than when they’d set out, and both men dug deep for reserves of strength they weren’t sure they had. The bar scraped against the metal. Flakes of rust dropped onto their hands and arms. Their chests heaved. Veins pulsed in their necks. With a final screech the bar came free.
‘Drop it,’ Cassady managed to gasp.
The bar fell to the floor with an undignified thud. They leaned against the gate and sucked in air. When Ghazi had recovered enough, he scooped up the rifle and staggered away to get the tow cable. Just before he reached the Old Lady, he froze.
Three black shapes stained the sky. They were sleek and tubular, and they cut through the air with purpose.
He shouted a warning. Tagawa jerked around 180 degrees and called down into the cab. Victor punched the accelerator until the Silkworm was alongside Warspite. He stuck his head out the window.
‘Get the gate open. We’ll keep them busy.’ Ghazi opened his mouth to reply, but the younger man cut him off. ‘We ain’t got time to discuss it.’
‘Then take this.’ With some effort, he hefted the rifle and threw it up to Tagawa. The extra magazines followed. The Japanese slammed his fist down on the roof and the Silkworm rolled backwards. Victor threw Ghazi a short salute from behind the glass and grinned. The pillbox reversed to the end of the street and screeched around the corner. Ghazi watched the drones become larger in the sky and peel left when they spotted the moving truck.
Allowing his mind to go blank, he unhooked the frayed cable from the spool above the bumper and dragged it back to the gates. Cassady peered past him to the corner where the Silkworm had disappeared.
‘Where do they think they’re going?’
‘They’re buying us some time.’ Ghazi looped the cable through an eye. His partner didn’t move. ‘Help me.’
Together, they fed the cable through the brackets that had held the metal bar. Controlled bursts of automatic gunfire electrified their movements. Ghazi pulled on the cable, releasing more from the winch, and passed it to Cassady, who tied it off.
‘Okay. Done.’
They ran back to the truck. One of the drones rose, arced and swooped down towards the town. A hatch opened and a plume of smoke drifted down onto the buildings. Tagawa’s automatic rifle crackled in response.
Cassady punched the ignition and guided Warspite backwards. The cable rose from the ground, became taut. The truck creaked. The gate shivered and shed a coat of rust as it opened a crack. Cassady put his foot down further and the wheels dug in. The whine of the transmission became more urgent. Wisps of white smoke caressed the windows.
‘You’re going to blow the engine,’ said Ghazi. Cassady ignored him. They continued to inch backwards. The band of daylight became wider and the gate shrieked as it was finally torn from its mate and dragged all the way open. Cassady released the pedal and shifted into first. Warspite rolled forwards and the cable became slack.
‘Now the other side.’
An explosion made the earth vibrate. Both men held their breaths, assuming the worst. But the sharp crack of the rifle resumed. Ghazi leaned out of the window and looked behind him. A column of dirty grey smoke spiralled among the roofs. Two drones remained in the sky.
The minutes slipped away while they unhooked the cable from the open half of the gate. The noise of the battle intensified. Somewhere back there, Tagawa was firing round after round at the drones and they were returning fire with bullets of a heavier calibre, each one making a dull thumping noise as it left the barrel. As Ghazi listened, his hand slipped and the cable scraped the skin from his palm. Blood welled from the gash. Concentrate. Do your job. H
is eyes burned and his shirt stuck to his arms and back. The cable came free from the gate with a snapping sound and Cassady set to work looping it around the closed half. Freedom lay just beyond. Tapering mountains, an expanse of dying scrub, tyre tracks leading somewhere. Decomposing vehicle frames showed where so many people had sought to gain access to Novus in the past. Now it was the other way around.
‘Go and start her up,’ shouted Cassady. ‘I’m almost done.’ Ghazi retraced his steps for the fifth time. Before he made it to Warspite, a drone came in low over the buildings at the end of the road and swept towards him. He broke into a run. His eyes were on the fat gun mounted to the underside of the thing’s body and he watched as it began to spin.
The Silkworm fishtailed around the corner. Tagawa aimed the rifle and fired. Bullets spattered against the drone’s wing. Victor slammed on the brakes. The flying machine wobbled and tried to rise, but Tagawa’s intervention had been fatal. One of its engines fired and the burst of energy sent it hurtling towards the wall.
Ghazi turned in time to spot his partner dive through the open gate. The drone clipped the ramparts and smashed in the scrubland. Lumps of concrete fell to the floor where Cassady had been standing a moment before. Without gesturing to Tagawa, he ran flat out to the wall and skidded through the gate. The drone was a crumpled mess of parts and circuitry sounding its death rattle. Cassady lay unmoving near the wall, his eyes closed. A line of red ran from the side of his head into his matted beard, and brick dust coated his skin and clothes. Ghazi checked for a pulse and found one. The gash on his head was deep. His right ear was split at the top. But his chest rose and fell and no other wounds were evident. On the other side of the wall, the dance of gunfire resumed.
Ghazi pinched the dusty skin of Cassady’s forearm, but he didn’t stir. He leaned over and spoke into one ear and then the other.
‘Wake up, Cass.’ There was still no response. Ghazi ignored his mounting despair and dug his fingers into his partner’s collarbone. Heavy eyelids fluttered open and a bleary pair of mismatched pupils focused on him.