Fugitives (The Silent Wars Book 2), page 13
Several seconds of dead air hissed in his ear before Colter came back online. “Sorry. Urgent message came through on my commpad.”
Eli knew his friend enough to detect the tone of concern. The slight quiver in his words. “What’s up?”
“The Nine and mercs are attacking the fusion plant. Engineer friend called it in. They’ve activated security protocols but can’t hold them out for long. Two more pressure doors and they’ll be inside.”
“Where the fuck is Sixth Battalion?” Ley said. “We were in Command when the colonel gave the order.”
“Dead,” Colter said. “Eli?”
“Fall back to fourth position and get Command on the radio. They have to be informed.”
“Wilco.”
Opening the sewage access door, Eli ignored the unpleasant odour and shone his flashlight into the space beyond. Like all plumbing in Lincoln, it was designed for easy access. Now that Old Patty had shown them the Mocker route, he was going to use it to his advantage. He waited until Ley and the girl were through, then followed, glancing back to see if the mercs had discovered the hidden passage. So far, there was no evidence they had, and they didn’t seem the types to move around with any stealth.
“Zapata’s going to blow the fusion core, isn’t he?” Ley asked. It was a rhetorical question, so Eli kept quiet. “Wouldn’t that destroy everything?”
“Total annihilation. Nothing would be left.”
Ley shook her head as she counted off the access ladders. At the tenth, she stopped and directed her light upwards. “We can’t let that happen.”
“Nope. We can use the Mocker route to mount a rescue.”
“What was that thing you said to me about not wanting to wake up with regret?”
Colter had the sewage access open at position four above them and waved to get their attention. Ley handed him the young girl. “Get her to the medics.”
Colter nodded and turned around, handing the child to a young Watcher recruit. Eli spotted Jade in the background and was happy to see Nox’s face appear in the gap.
“I don’t want to wake up one day and realize I had spent my life wondering ‘what if’?” Eli said.
“Something like that.” Ley smiled. It was one of warmth; the type Eli liked the best. Ley had always had his back. She was always willing to do what needed to be done.
Colter helped Ley through the narrow access door first, then Eli. “Mercs are moving slowly, being super careful after your furniture-drop stunt. We have maybe five minutes. Command,” he said, passing the long-range radio to Eli.
“Noah.”
“Eli. Stone tells me you are still in Sector Five?”
“Correct.”
“Good. Reports came back confirming his intel. Mercs cut the direct line to us. The fusion plant needs to be shut down. Your team is closest. Can you make it?”
“We’ll try.”
“God be with you. I’ll send security team Sigma to reinforce the Watchers.”
“Understood.”
“Shut it down and sabotage it to stop it coming back on.”
Eli switched off the radio, but not before he heard explosions in the background. It was going to be a miracle if any of them survived the next hour. Let alone at all.
He crouched next to the sewage access and hugged Nox before facing his friends. “All right. Arm up. We have a new mission.”
Zapata checked his jet-black hair was smoothed down, every perfect strand in place. He admired his reflection in the mirror for another second. He had always been proud of his sculpted face. His ancient family only employed the services of the best genetic engineers. His obsidian eyes were a gift from his father when he took command of his own Rogue battalion. To the uninitiated, they were nothing but a vanity statement. But they were so much more than that. Modelled on the eyes of the deep-sea crustacean Gigantocypris, his eyes didn’t have just normal lenses. They had a second pair of concave mirrors that focused light onto his photoreceptors. This gave him the ability to see in complete darkness, and switching between light and dark was as easy as breathing.
Shutting the door to the mayor’s private bathroom behind him, Zapata switched off the lights and moved silently through the council chambers and into the living quarters. From there, it was a quick walk to the hatch that led to the emergency bunker. He ignored the main entrance and, instead, used one he had built a few years ago for this very purpose.
The main switchboard for the bunker’s power was to Zapata’s immediate right as he stepped from the hidden passage located in the larder. He paused for a full minute, waiting until he heard Sousa stumbling around in the dark.
Zapata switched on the light and used the mayor’s temporary blindness to get Sousa in a headlock. “Running somewhere?”
“Commander, please.”
“What?”
“I can’t breathe.”
“So? Soon, all you Gnats will be exterminated like the bugs you are. What’s one more to add to the pile?”
“Please. I can’t breathe.”
Zapata loosened his grip. “Enjoyed being commander a bit too much, I hear.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
Zapata chuckled and released the chubby man. “You had Miller and Haru in custody, and let them escape?” Zapata made a show of unsheathing his knife. The action caused Sousa to swallow so that his Adam’s apple bobbed.
“They had help. It wasn’t my fault.”
“Wasn’t your fault? You should have anticipated that, but I guess I’m expecting too much from a Gnat. Can you at least tell me who helped them?”
“We’re not sure. Some kind of resistance group.”
In a blur of movement, Zapata buried the 15 cm blade deep into the mayor’s thigh. His mouth gaped open as if to scream in agony, but Zapata clamped a hand over it before he could. “That is obvious, you incompetent idiot.” He removed his hand and punched the mayor in the gut.
“Wait,” Sousa said between gasps for air. “I have their commpads. You’ll want to see them.”
“Show me.”
Sousa moved slowly to a small table and opened a black bag. He held two commpads up, frowning as he decided which one to give to Zapata.
“This one, I think. It’s Miller’s.” Sousa activated the screen and scrolled through something. “Here.”
As Zapata glanced down at the screen, he half expected the mayor to try something, but Sousa was smiling and jabbing a chunky ring finger at the text.
Down through the roots.
In the hand of she that follows the traveller in the darkness.
That which holds up the world is not what it seems.
Where the ripper walks on the bones of Etruscans.
The dome of the bird can be seen.
Two cities rest under.
Heed them.
Zapata read the seven lines five times in quick succession. He understood what it was with perfect clarity. Partly because Miller had labelled the file Journal, and partly because he had spent hours poring over the handwritten diary, analysing every entry, chapter, word and line. The first clue was in the journal, but the second was new to him. How had Miller found it?
Zapata was furious at his own complacency. He had let his distaste for Gnats cloud his judgement. He had discounted their intelligence. Some, like Jeanette Sousa and Eli Miller, had something going for them in the cognitive department. Probably just a genetic anomaly.
“Do you know what this is?” Zapata asked.
“Not the meaning, no. Not a clue. It’s important, right?”
“Who else has seen it?”
“Just the tech who scanned through the commpads.”
“Get him.”
“Her. Now?”
“I’m not going to ask again.”
The mayor hobbled to the wall interface and spoke rapidly, then frowned as he listened to the reply. “She’s in Sector Four with Seventh Battalion, surrounded by your mercs.”
Ignoring Sousa for a moment, Zapata checked the display on his commpad. They’d have swept the entire city soon, and there was still no sign of Miller, Haru or even Stone. The last sighting of the trio was in Sector Five. He scrolled to the next screen and checked the progress of his engineering crew. The last update, sent three minutes earlier, told him they were two hours from success. Two hours before this area of the Wey Pacific Mining complex became nothing but a memory.
“Get your stuff. We’re leaving.”
“Topside?”
When Zapata nodded, a red box caught his eye. It sat on the side table, next to the armchair. He popped the lid, looked at the contents, then shut it and slipped the item in his jacket. “Unless you want to stay here with your precious city?”
Sousa shook his head vehemently and walked over to a locker built into the bunker wall. He winced and glanced down at the knife still protruding from his thigh. A thin trickle of blood trailed down his pants.
“Can I take the knife out?”
“No. Leave it as a reminder. You can think of it as you suffer on the journey to the surface.”
“Really?”
Zapata approached Sousa, hands out in mock surrender. “Then again, you did bring me Miller’s commpad. Give me the knife.”
Sousa grasped the large handle and sucked a breath in through gritted teeth as he withdrew the blade. It made a weird, sucking sound, then popped out. Tears streamed down Sousa’s face as he handed it to Zapata, handle first. Zapata took the blade and plunged it deep into Sousa’s stomach. Sousa gasped in shock. Or maybe it was surprise. Whatever. To Zapata, the chubby Gnat had a dumb look on his face — like many of them did when he killed them. General Turing’s had held the same expression when Zapata sliced open his throat an hour earlier. As if neither could believe what was happening. Their lives were over, and all the things they wished they had done came flooding back in an instant. The regrets. The hopes and dreams of the Gnats. Disappearing.
He pulled the blade free, then stabbed the mayor another three times, each stab located for maximum damage. Kidney. Liver. Heart. Sousa went limp and collapsed onto Zapata. He let the mayor fall to the ground, then crouched down next to the body. After a few precise cuts, he stood back up and admired his handwork. Sousa had died like he lived: pathetically. At least he had served his purpose.
Before he left the bunker, Zapata transferred the entirety of the Watchers’ commpads to his own, then smashed them. Now all that was left to do was tie up three loose ends. He wiped the blood off his blade and sheathed it back at his hip.
A smile flicked across his face. He was going to enjoy this. Yes. This time, he would kill Miller and that bitch, Haru.
CHAPTER 12
To escape his family, Eli had spent hours sitting on the tallest rooftops of Lincoln, taking it all in. At first, he saw what most people see. Buildings, streets, vehicles, citizens. But little by little, he noticed more details. The style of the buildings. Construction materials. How old they were. He saw the demographics of the population. What clothes they wore. The colours. Smelt the different fragrances. The ambience. After a while, he could peel back the layers and see how it all worked. What kept it running. The kilometres of cables, pipes, sewers.
Curiosity had got the better of him and he had crawled through tunnel after tunnel, sometimes following a hissing pipe or data cable. The knowledge had served him well in his career as a Watcher. Fugitives had a habit of circling back and hiding until they thought the heat was off. Eli would always, eventually, track them down. He thought he knew just about everywhere under Lincoln. But this passageway, illuminated with muted yellow bulbs, was new to him — just like the rest of the Mocker route. This section was different. It was wider, for a start, with enough room for two buggies to pass. Plus, it was clean and, thankfully, free of the sewage stench.
Colter, on point with Nox, slowed as he approached another ladder. He climbed up and poked his head through the manhole cover. Then he climbed out and disappeared for a couple of minutes before returning.
“This is it. Pedestrian access. Left is the fusion plant. Beyond it are the cooling tanks.”
“And right?” Eli asked.
“Back-up cooling and substations.”
“No way into the plant that way?”
“Not sure, but now I know about the Mocker route, I’m guessing we can. The control room and fusion core are separate. Two sets of heavy blast doors protect that area.” Colter wiggled his commpad and turned the screen around so Eli and the others could see it. The image showed pipes and cooling tanks, and no sign of any mercs.
Colter scrolled to the next screen, showing the tunnel to their left. The doors one hundred metres away were jammed open with what looked like the metal rods used for drilling core samples. The bodies of 6th Battalion lay against the walls, blood trails showing that they’d been moved to one side from where they had died. “They’ve killed the other cameras.”
“Primary objective is to get the plant shut down safely and get everyone out to the evacuation point. Ley, Nox and I will buy as much time as we can. Colter. Jade. Get everyone out, shut it down and make sure these kints can’t get it going again.”
One after another, the group climbed the ladder and crawled out onto the floor of the tunnel.
Colter nodded at Eli and Ley and lowered his voice. “Don’t die on me, you two. We haven’t finished deciding who the greatest guitarist is.”
“Ditto,” Ley said.
Jade held Eli’s gaze for a few seconds. “If everything goes tits-up, get to the floodgate you dropped me off at that time. I’ll meet you there. Promise me.”
“Okay,” Eli said. He felt bad lying to Jade. In truth, he couldn’t promise anything. Who could? The problem with conflict is that no one knows what’s going to happen. Eli’s father had told him plenty of stories about battles where people had been killed for the simple fact their head was the first one the sniper saw. He would try to keep the promise, of course. The meaning and mystery of the journal nagged at him, an itch in his brain that begged to be sated. The only way to achieve that was to go topside.
With Nox leading, Eli and Ley slowly advanced down the long tunnel that led to the fusion plant. They stopped every thirty seconds and checked for sentries, drones or guards. Either the mercs didn’t care or they were confident they could halt any attack, because Eli saw no evidence of anything left behind to guard their six. Nox suddenly crouched, tail and ears flat. Hostiles were close.
Eli held up a fist. “Blast doors coming up?”
The first four doors they passed through had been pried open with drilling equipment. They hadn’t been constructed with an attack in mind and were simply a safety measure in case of a threat to the oxygen levels, contaminant spill or anything else that would jeopardise the lives of citizens. The mercs had known this, and judging by the apparent ease with which they had got through, they had spent only a few minutes at each. The blast doors were a different matter entirely. Made from thick concrete and steel, they were designed to keep any fusion core accidents from leaking into Lincoln. That was the theory, anyway.
Ley read the schematics on her commpad. “Affirmative.”
“No gunfire.”
“Mercs ain’t dumb. Even they would understand that a rifle can’t shoot through the blast doors.”
“Nothing getting through there,” Eli agreed. “You’d need a tank.”
A piercing howl echoed up the tunnel. The sound sent a shiver up Eli’s spine.
Ley locked eyes with him. “Fuck. Is that what I think it is?”
Another howl. This time closer. And it was joined by several more. Eli risked a peek around the corner in the direction of the fusion plant. Prowling before the huge blast doors were hyenas. He held up six fingers behind his back and kept watching. Some mercs were messing around with the control panels. Two others were placing some kind of device onto the doors.
“They’re setting something,” Eli said, placing his commpad on a telescopic stick and using the camera function. “Looks like thermal charges. What do you think?”
“Agreed. They’re wasting their time, though. Let me see.” Ley muttered something under her breath as she watched. “Mercs are going for the opening mechanism.”
“Still. Like you said. It will take more than thermal charges to break through. And there’s how many sets of locks?”
“Five.”
“Something doesn’t feel right. These guys had a plan from the start. It would take months to blast through.”
“Maybe it doesn’t matter.”
“How so?”
“Because they are achieving their objective regardless. Everyone from Lincoln gone. Dead or otherwise.”
“So, let’s leave them to it.”
The rock walls and floor under their feet rumbled. It started off with small vibrations that soon grew stronger.
Stone worms.
Eli glanced at the video feed on his commpad. It was then he saw the small thumpers used by the miners to attract stone worms stuck to the walls and ceiling surrounding the blast doors. He hadn’t noticed them before because he had been so focused on the thermal charges. The Nine and the mercs had other ideas. Instead of using the device to keep the creatures away from an area being mined, the Mercs wanted the stone worms to come and chew through the rock, bypassing the sealed doors. The thermal charges were backup. Eli nodded his appreciation of the clever tactic.
The hyenas were still prowling, but the biggest was sniffing the air, his ears flattening. The other beasts and the mercs pivoted in the direction of the rumbling. Nox, crouched in readiness, let out a low growl and looked at Eli, as if willing him to command him to attack.
Eli checked the magazine of the rifle, then slapped it back in. He knew what they had to do. The hyena had their scent, and they couldn’t let the merc leave before the stone worms arrived.
Ley checked her own weapons. “The fusion core?”
“Protected by titanium.”
“Duh, I should have known that. Ready?”
“Always.”
The floor rumbled again more strongly. The storms were chewing and grinding rock fast to get to the thumpers. Irritated by the oscillating rhythm, they would not stop until they had found the source and destroyed it. Anything in the way was just collateral damage. It was the reason why rock hoppers employed industrial-size thumpers to keep the storms away from operations, planting them in a sector far away from where they were working.
