Sunspire (The Reach, Book 4) Page 12

  “I told you before, I’m not leaving him.”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s just that…” She shrugged awkwardly. “There might be a better option.”

  Knile stared at her, incredulous. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Ursie said nothing. “You want to get inside his head again?”

  “It’s the fastest way,” she said. “I’m telling you, we’re going to die if we have to keep lugging him across the whole damn Skywalk. If I can reach out to him again–”

  “You have touched me for the last time, demon.”

  They turned as one to see Lazarus staring at them from the floor, his blue eyes sharp and clear in the gloom. He twitched, then began to sit up, moving jerkily as he rose, like a freshly reanimated Frankenstein’s monster.

  “Lazarus!” Knile said, both shocked and delighted. He moved over toward him. “Take it easy there, big guy–”

  Lazarus reached out a meaty hand and pushed awkwardly at Knile, shoving him out of the way. His eyes bored into Ursie as he tried to get up.

  “I would invite you to try placing those tainted fingers upon my skin once more, demon,” he grated hoarsely. “And I will gladly break your rotten neck.”

  He grunted and fell back to a sitting position, and Knile reached out a hand to steady him.

  “Whoa, take it easy. Don’t rush it, you’ve been out for a long time.”

  Knile glanced across at Ursie, who was looking at them, scared out of her wits by the Redman’s venomous tone.

  “Let me up, Knile,” Lazarus said again, leaning forward again. “Let me crush the ghoul who stands watch over us–”

  “You better park it, you big lump of poop,” Tobias said menacingly, interjecting himself between them and Ursie, a hammer in his hand. “Ain’t nobody gonna crush nobody around here without my say-so.”

  Lazarus’ eyes narrowed. “Do not speak to me in that way, old man. I am Aron Lazarus of the Crimson Shield, defender–”

  “I don’t care if you’re the Queen’s uncle, mister. Ain’t no use for titles and graces around here. Not in these parts.”

  Knile’s grip firmed on the Redman’s shoulder. “Just relax, Lazarus. These people have helped to carry you half-way around the Earth. They’re not our enemies.”

  “She violated me,” he hissed. “She is a trickster of the mind. I felt her therein, her–”

  “She did what she had to do,” Knile said. “And she won’t do it again.” He looked pointedly at Ursie. “Right?”

  Lazarus seemed as though he might offer another retort, but then he clasped at his temple and squeezed his eyes shut, obviously suffering a wave of discomfort. A moment later he opened his eyes again and looked around.

  “Where are we?” he said. “Was our mission successful? Have we secured the habitat?”

  “Not exactly,” Knile said. He squatted beside the Redman. “We docked at the habitat, and Holger went on ahead to ready one of the evacuation modules.” He grimaced. “Then he took off with it, leaving the four of us stranded with the bomb still ticking in the railcar. We piled you onto a sweepdrone, and Tobias here led us to the Skywalk, a tunnel that connects the habitat to another space elevator called Sunspire. We’re on our way there now. This is a way station between Habitat One and Sunspire.”

  “The habitat itself?” Lazarus said.

  “Destroyed.”

  Lazarus looked at each of them in turn. “You tried to help me. That is why Holger proceeded to the evacuation module without you, is it not?”

  Knile nodded. “Yeah.”

  “You are fools.”

  Knile clapped him on the shoulder. “See, when you put it that way, that makes all the effort worthwhile.”

  “You’re welcome,” Tobias muttered.

  “You should not have risked your life for me,” Lazarus said.

  “You did for us, when you bashed your way out of the railcar and tried to remove the explosives.”

  “Listen,” Ursie said, “it’s great that we’re patting each other on the shoulder and stuff, but we need to move. This way station could break apart any minute.”

  “She’s right,” Knile said. “We need to find a way to move you along, Lazarus. I was thinking–”

  “I will walk.” He attempted to get up again, and Knile moved to ease him backward.

  “Just relax a second, will you? You’re in no condition to–”

  “I will walk,” Lazarus said adamantly, and with that he lurched to his feet, staggering across the dock like a drunken sailor. Knile ran after him, grappling awkwardly with the man’s massive girth. He managed to steady him a second before he ploughed into a stack of shelves, then the two of them stood there panting as Lazarus tried to regain his equilibrium.

  “This is going to be fun,” Ursie said airily, and then she set off through the nearest doorway and into the way station.

  The way station possessed a far more modular design than Habitat One. There was no concourse, but instead a series of small compartments about the size of bedrooms that flowed one to the next. The place had been stripped and cleaned out, and as a result, Knile had no clue as to the purpose of the rooms. Whatever functionality they had once possessed was now gone.

  “Just be careful,” Ursie said to them. “I’m sure I saw a face through the window back there, before we came inside.”

  “Just your imagination,” Knile said, straining with Lazarus’ weight on his shoulder. The Redman was still unstable on his feet and required constant support. “There’s no way someone could survive in here all these years.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” Ursie said. She moved over to a rusted sink and pulled the lever above it, but no water came from the faucet.

  “I imagine they’d be pretty darn thirsty by now if they’re lurkin’,” Tobias said. “What with no water in the taps.”

  “Keep going,” Knile said. “Maybe there’s some old supplies we can raid further along.”

  As they made it to the next room, the hairs on the back of Knile’s neck suddenly stood on end, and a moment later there was a clicking sound from above.

  The darkness was suddenly banished, and a soft glow emanated from several panels on the wall.

  “What the–?” Knile began, but Tobias held up a hand to stall him.

  “It’s the auto lights,” the old man said, glancing around. “Movement sensors must still be cranking along after all this time.”

  “Where’s the power coming from?” Ursie said doubtfully.

  “Solar panels mounted on the outer hull,” Tobias said. “Or so I’d reckon.”

  “It’s creepy,” Ursie said. “I don’t like it.”

  “Just calm down,” Knile said as he struggled forward with Lazarus. “We won’t be here long–”

  He stopped and stared at what lay before them. At the end of the room, a translucent plastic covering hung across the doorway, and the light coming through from the other side seemed even brighter than it was here. As he watched, Knile saw movement, a shadow drifting across to obscure the light. Then it seemed to move back again.

  Knile held up his hand silently, turning to attract the attention of the others. Sensing his alarm, Ursie and Tobias stopped dead. Knile signalled sharply toward the doorway.

  “Movement,” he hissed.

  “I told you!” Ursie whispered back. “Someone’s–”

  Knile held a finger to his lips, silencing the girl, then began to edge forward as quietly as he could with Lazarus leaning on his shoulder. He kept his eyes glued to the plastic covering, waiting to see more shadows, but none came.

  He and Lazarus reached the doorway and paused, listening. Nothing. Whatever was on the other side of the covering was being awfully quiet.

  Knile held out a hand and began to draw back the plastic. The next room came into view.

  His breath caught in his throat, and he inadvertently let Lazarus drop to the floor, such was his amazement at what he saw.

  21

  Duran turned and watched th
e dirigible labour upward, clearing the nearby rooftops as its warbling engines sent a dull rumble across the neighbouring buildings. It was such an unconvincing-looking contraption, with its envelope streaked with water stains and a thin trail of smoke left in the wake of the left engine, that for a moment he expected it to falter and drop like a stone. Somehow it kept climbing. Half a block away, a couple of dimwits emerged from atop the scaffolding of an old factory and began taking pot shots at it, but after a few ill-aimed attempts they gave up and scuttled back into whatever crevice they had emerged from.

  Duran stood watching the dirigible growing smaller and smaller in the sky as it headed east. Unwittingly, his mind went back to the moment when he had left Bagley’s office. As he’d cast back a final glance, he’d been filled with an odd kind of revulsion at the sight of Talia and her companions. They’d been dishevelled, haggard, exhausted and desperate. A group at the end of their tether.

  A part of him knew that they weren’t going to make it. He could see by the look in their eyes that they felt the same. Maybe they hadn’t admitted it to themselves yet, but the doubt was there. There were too many obstacles in their path, too many pieces of the puzzle that had to fall just the right way.

  Duran felt no pity for them. In fact, a guilty part of him rejoiced in the fact.

  You put your trust in Knile Oberend, he thought. You got what you deserved.

  “So what’s got you all riled up?” Zoe said beside him.

  He snapped out of his daydream and turned to see her staring at him, evaluating.

  “Huh?”

  “You look like you’re ready to smash someone in the face.” She glanced at the dirigible. “Still angry with those guys?”

  “No, not really. Just thinking about how pathetic they are.”

  Zoe gave him a disapproving glare. “They’re not the enemy, Alec.”

  “Maybe not to you.”

  She shrugged. “Well, they’re gone now. You can get over it.” She turned up the street. “Let’s go find your dad.”

  They continued on, wary of keeping an eye out for the two men in hoods. If it really was Duran and Zoe that the men were interested in, this would be a perfect time to strike, now that their group had split up. However, for the moment, their pursuers remained unseen.

  They were close to his parents’ house now, and Duran knew the area well. He’d spent many years in this neighbourhood and he hoped that his local knowledge would give him the edge should he be involved in either an ambush or a straight-up fight.

  Up ahead, the old Five Wind Markets that Duran had frequented in his youth had become the source of much activity as the last of its goods were plundered by looters. Duran watched them with distaste, his old instincts as an Enforcer telling him that he should be doing something to prevent the crime spree, but knowing he was powerless to stop the tide. Against this many, there was little he and Zoe could do.

  A woman with short blonde hair appeared from the shattered remains of a storefront nearby, clutching an armful of emerald-coloured printed circuit boards, and for a moment Duran thought his eyes must have been deceiving him. As she moved closer, he realised they were not.

  He knew this woman.

  “Jovanovic?” he said, incredulous, recognising her as their former colleague from Scimitar.

  The woman stopped in her tracks, shocked by the sound of his voice.

  “Duran?” she said. Her eyes moved beyond him. “Zoe!” Her surprise turned to delight, and she smiled warmly. “Thank fuck, you made it out of the Reach!”

  “Jo,” Zoe said, returning the smile. The two embraced. “Good to see you, too. Where’s de Villiers?”

  “He’s here in Link, not far away. We got out before things really went to hell.”

  “I guess you were right, in the end,” Zoe said. “We should have gone with you.”

  “What about your mark?” Jovanovic said to Duran. “Did you get the job done?”

  “Not exactly,” Duran said ruefully. “We found him, but… he made it off-world.”

  “How did he manage that, exactly?” Jovanovic said, puzzled.

  “Long story,” Zoe said. “Let’s just say it’s complicated.”

  Jovanovic shrugged. “Whatever. So what now?”

  “We’re going to find my father,” Duran said. “He lives not far from here.” He glanced down at the circuit boards in Jovanovic’s arms. “What about you?”

  “Getting supplies for our journey.”

  “Huh?” Zoe said. “Where are you going?”

  “De Villiers has some friends here in Link who are getting out of town. They’ve been fixing up an old shuttle down in the underground transit station at Nix Junction. They’re going to use it to get out of here.”

  “So why do you need the circuit boards?” Duran said.

  Jovanovic glanced down at her loot. “Repairs for the shuttle. It hasn’t been used in a couple of decades, so we’re in need of a few circuit boards. We’re hoping to have it fixed and ready to go by the morning.”

  “You’re just stealing that stuff?” Duran said. “I know the old man who used to run this place.”

  “It’s not like I could pay for it. The vendors have all cleared out.” She sighed and raised an eyebrow at him. “Pull the stick out of your ass, Duran. Either I take it, or one of these deadheads will.”

  Zoe placed a placating hand on his chest to stall the argument. “Where are you going?” she said to Jovanovic.

  “A little coastal place called Ayre. De Villiers said the track terminates out that way.”

  “Why there?”

  “Apparently the soil is better there. Less toxic.”

  Zoe looked at her doubtfully. “People have been saying shit like that for years, Jo. You really believe it?”

  “Who knows? Maybe.”

  “It’s a myth. Probably worse than here.” Zoe said.

  “Look, Zoe. The only thing I know for sure is that this place is going up in flames. This time next week, there probably won’t even be a city here. Just rubble and people starving to death. I don’t know if taking a shuttle out into the lowlands is the answer, but staying here sure as hell isn’t.”

  “I guess,” Zoe said.

  Jovanovic looked at each of them in turn. “Why don’t you come with us? De Villiers can probably get you both a seat on the shuttle.”

  “De Villiers?” Duran said. “I didn’t exactly get along with him.”

  “He can probably be persuaded,” Jovanovic said.

  “No, we’re fine,” Duran said. He glanced over his shoulder. “We should keep moving.”

  “Zoe?” Jovanovic said hesitantly.

  Zoe seemed to think it over for a moment. “No,” she said eventually. “I’m going to stick with this crazy bastard for now. But thanks for the offer.”

  “Okay.” Jovanovic seemed disappointed, smiling weakly. “If that’s what you want.”

  “It is.” Zoe stuck out a hand. “Good luck, Jo.”

  “You too.”

  Past the market, they continued to weave their way along the street, and Duran began to feel uneasy for the first time. Up until now he’d been trying not to think about what they might find once they reached his father’s house. Now, seeing neighbourhood buildings on fire, looted and deserted, he couldn’t stop his mind from playing out gruesome scenarios – images of his father lying on the kitchen floor, covered in blood, and worse.

  He knew that there was every chance that the old man had fallen victim to the looters, but he wasn’t about to turn back now. He had to keep going. He had to know.

  They turned onto Maunder Avenue, and the scene did not improve. The street that had once been lined by suburban homes was now vastly transformed into something out of a war zone, with many houses reduced to ash and others containing ragged tears where windows and front doors used to be. Duran’s pace quickened at the sight of it, and his eyes locked onto a point not far away.

  “There it is, come on.”

  “Alec, maybe y
ou don’t want to see–”

  “Come on, Zoe. I’m not turning back now.”

  They sprinted along the rubble-strewn street, causing a group of youths who had been loitering around the place to scatter in alarm. Duran ignored them, skipping up onto the sidewalk and then proceeding across the wispy brown grass that passed for a front lawn in Link. As he neared the house he finally slowed, masking his movements across the driveway and up to the entrance.

  The front door was wide open, having been almost knocked off its hinges. Duran paused there, his shoulder to the door frame as he listened.

  There were noises coming from inside. Voices.

  Duran drew his .38, indicating for Zoe to head around the back of the house. He waited a few moments, then began to move inside.

  22

  Talia found herself staring at a blank wall without any idea of how she got there.

  She pushed up from the floor and regretted it immediately. Her head spun and she felt like throwing up. Distantly, she could hear voices and a scraping, thumping noise, but these were coming to her in an indistinct, muted fashion, as if unseen hands had clamped themselves around her head to dampen the noise.

  What the fuck–? she thought, but then her memory returned.

  The dirigible. We were going down.

  She turned and saw the pilot’s seat not far away, realised she was no longer in it. She grunted with the effort of hauling herself back toward it, knowing that they were doomed if she didn’t guide them toward the ground, but as she stood, she realised there was no longer any point in doing that.

  It was already over. They were on the ground.

  She looked about, dazed. The gondola was lying on bare soil, tilted at a 45-degree angle, while the envelope sat billowing off to one side, now loose and deflated, misshapen in its death throes. Talia looked at the pilot’s seat and saw that the aged, rotten straps had been severed. She began to piece it all together as her memory returned. They’d plummeted through the sky, the tear in the envelope becoming larger and larger, until the aerodynamics of the airship had become irrevocably compromised. In the end, they had been moving too fast, and there had been little response from the controls. The part where they’d hit the ground was still a little hazy, but obviously when the straps in the pilot’s seat had snapped, she’d been thrown against the side of the gondola and hit her head.