Acts of Violence (25 page)

‘That dot,’ I
pointed to it. ‘That’s a man who’s going to help you get the girls out.’

Her head snapped up
in horror. ‘
You’re
helping me.’

‘I’m going to
Webster’s mansion.’ I flipped back to the first image. Pointed to the roof of
the mansion. ‘That’s his flyer. We’ll need it to get the girls out. Unless you
want them to walk across the desert.’

‘Who is he? The
government agent?’

‘No, Van’s
bodyguard. He’s quite unhappy with the whole situation. He also has someone he
cares about in one of those cages.’

That wasn’t
strictly true, but I needed her to trust him. She thought for a moment and then
nodded. Reluctantly. She’d pair up with this unknown man and get the girls out.

‘What about the
girls from the club?’ she asked. ‘They won’t be in the same place.’

‘I’ll keep an eye
out for them on my way to the mansion. The girls you were locked up with are
the priority though. We don’t know for sure the others will even be there. And
if they are, the cops and UPSF will take care of them.’

‘But you will keep
an eye out for them.’ She wasn’t looking for confirmation. She was telling me.

‘I will.’

I took the comm
unit back and put it in my pocket again. Then the mountain exploded. We both
swore and I slammed on the brakes. Not necessary, since we were so far away,
but a natural reaction.

‘The train,’
Sixteen said. Just a statement. No feeling.

She was right. The
mountain hadn’t exploded. That was stupid. The fireball and distant rumble had
come from much closer. The train had been blown up. Either the off-worlders had
packed it full of explosives and sent it off like an on-rails missile, or
Webster had planted explosives on the track in case they tried to come that
way. I suspected the latter. The explosion didn’t seem to be quite as far down
as the station.

I accelerated
again. About four miles down the road, the wreckage became visible. What was
left of the first two cars was ablaze. Pieces of burning metal were scattered all
around. Somehow, one car still sat on the rails and only a small fire crept up
the side. The other five were on their sides. They lay all over the place. One
had slid, and perhaps rolled, past the first car.

Webster’s men had
planted the explosives too close. Off-worlders were climbing out of the cars
and heading towards the camp. I counted about twenty, but more were still
emerging. They were hurt, but not badly enough to be deterred. I hoped enough
had survived to give Webster’s guys trouble.

I swung off the
road and forced the cab to full speed. We were aimed towards the gorilla. I
could just make out his shape in the dark. The storm had passed now. I wished
it hadn’t. That was the first time I’d actually wanted heavy rain. It would
have given us a little extra cover.

As we pulled up
beside him, the gorilla didn’t even look at us. He was staring at the camp. A
motorbike lay in the dirt behind him. Slung over his shoulder was an assault
rifle. He was ready.

‘Are you sure I can
trust him?’ Sixteen asked.

‘Pretty sure. He
looks scary but as long as you both have the same goal, he should be a good
ally. Just keep a fair distance from him. I don’t know how long he’ll go
without making a lot of noise, and he’s a big target. He wants payback for Van
and he wants the girl he’s soft on. If anything gets in the way, he’ll go right
through it. Stick with him as long as he’s not drawing attention.’

She nodded. We
climbed out of the cab.

‘We don’t have
long,’ the gorilla said, finally turning. ‘Girls might get hit in the
crossfire. Webster might still try to get them shipped out. And if he sees that
he’s losing, he’ll kill them to stop the off-worlders getting them.’

I nodded. I hadn’t
thought of that. ‘This is Sixteen. She knows where they’re being kept.’

He stared down at
her and grunted. He’d turned to her when I said her name. Or designation, or
whatever. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Didn’t try to guess.

I walked back to
the cab. Opened the trunk. I was met by wide eyes and frantic, fruitless
kicking.

‘Finished?’ I asked
when he’d run out of energy.

‘The fuck is wrong
with you?’ he shouted, struggling to haul himself out.

‘I needed a ride. But
I’ve got another one now. Thanks.’

After a double take
in the gorilla’s direction, the cab driver seemed to abandon any thoughts of
attacking me. He sidled round the cab and climbed in, making sure not to turn
his back on us for a second. A minute later, he was halfway back to the road.

‘I need to use your
bike,’ I told the gorilla. He shrugged.

‘Keep your eyes
open for the other girls,’ Sixteen told me again.

‘They’re on the
train.’ The gorilla pointed to the wreckage. ‘Fifth car. Don’t know which that
is now. Saw them loading the girls at the station. Too many men to do anything
then.’

I looked at the
cars. It was impossible to tell which car was which now. I couldn’t see any
girls. If the majority of the off-worlders had survived the crash, then maybe
the girls had too. There were still too many gunmen around the wreckage at the
moment, but I’d circle back to it after I paid Webster a visit. The gorilla,
too, would wait for the gunmen to clear out.

The bike must have
looked ridiculous under his bulk. I pulled it upright and swung my leg over as
he started towards the shipping containers. Sixteen hesitated a moment before
following. No ‘good luck’ or ‘be careful’. Just a curious, not entirely
trusting look. I wondered if she thought I was going to just drive away and
leave them all. At this point, I wasn’t even tempted.

I started the
engine and listened to the quiet hum under me for a moment. My eyes followed my
intended path across the cracked dirt. It was so densely compacted that even
the heavy rainfall didn’t break it back down to mud. A layer of brown sludge
covered it and sank into the deep cracks, but the ground was hard. I guessed
that meant there’d once been a lot of hot sun. That was hard to imagine.

Once my path was
decided, I revved the engine needlessly. Then accelerated. The back wheel spun
a couple of times in the mud before it kicked enough out of the way to bite
into the dirt below. I angled it left, to take me back to the road, then across
and over the train line behind the overturned cars.

I was nearly at the
road when I felt a couple of light taps against my face. The rain was starting
again. It might help cover me a little outside, but the real danger was inside
the mansion. In seconds, the air between me and the train station became hazy
with grey rain. I could make out shapes and the odd flash. Webster’s people
were still holding back the off-worlders. The off-worlders were still giving
them trouble.

The bike’s wheels
liked the road. Didn’t like the train line. I had to slow right down so I
wouldn’t get thrown off. On the other side, I accelerated again and curved
round to come in at the side of the mansion. I wasn’t sure if any off-worlders
would have reached the place yet. Didn’t know if that would help me or make
things worse. More people to shoot at me, but more targets to spread their
concentration between.

As I neared, I saw
something I hadn’t spotted on the way in. A flyer sat in the mud outside the
back left corner of the mansion’s perimeter wall. From the way it was angled
towards the wall, and the fact that both side doors were open, I guessed it was
more off-worlders. The other clue was that a gaping hole had been blown in the
wall itself. That was the real giveaway.

When I was close
enough, I took my hand off the gas and pulled out my revolver. Just in case.
The bike coasted to a stop beside the flyer. I didn’t bother with the
stabiliser as I climbed off. Just let the bike topple sideways into the mud. I
saw no movement from the flyer or the hole in the wall. The squelching beneath
my shoes was as much a betrayal of my presence as the bike’s engine, so I moved
quickly to the side of the hunk of metal. Still no sound or movement. I let the
gun lead my head inside. The flyer was empty.

I’d told Sixteen
that I was coming to the mansion to find a flyer for us to get the girls out
with. Actually, I had no idea how to fly one. I hadn’t really thought about
that, because it was only my mouth that had looked beyond finding and killing
Webster. My head had stayed with his lifeless corpse. Maybe it was simple to operate
the thing. I’d find out later. If I survived the mansion.

I turned my
attention to the hole in the wall. Bricks, both whole and broken, lay scattered
on the other side. The edge of the new doorway was blackened from the
explosives. As I stepped through, I heard a couple of muffled gunshots. There
wasn’t as much shooting going inside as I’d expected.

The mansion was
small, as mansions went. Not as fancy as I’d imagined. Two floors plus an
attic. Maybe twenty rooms between them, I guessed. It was built of large cream
coloured stone blocks, but the most striking thing about the place was the
grass. The ten feet of ground between the perimeter wall and the building’s own
wall was covered in grass. There must have been some kind of drainage system
under it because it was firm to walk on, not mushy like the grass outside the
Lakeside Rooms. I liked it. It wasn’t often I got to see anything nature had to
offer. Unless you counted rain and mud.

I guessed there wouldn’t
be a lot of difference now between the front and back doors, so I turned right
and headed for the front. Here, the grass opened up into a lawn about forty
square feet. The driveway was white gravel and came up to circle around a plain
and non-functional fountain.

Three bodies lay on
the gravel. Another on the lawn. One was an off-worlder. The other three were
Webster’s. I raised my gun towards the front door and approached, making sure
to keep on the strip of grass so I wouldn’t be heard. A drop of cold rain ran
up my sleeve and along my arm, making me shiver.

A gunshot sounded
through the open door. It was followed by a second, meatier blast. Sounded like
a shard gun.

The three steps to
the front door were flanked by knee-high walls. I stepped up onto the one on my
side trying to watch my footing and the door at the same time. Once up, I took
one quick glance around to ensure I wasn’t about to get shot by a straggler.
Then I stuck my head around the doorframe.

About six
off-worlders lay dead in the entrance hall. Two of Webster’s were slumped
against the railings of the upstairs balcony directly opposite the door. There
were no signs of life. I stepped down and slowly moved inside out of the rain. The
floor was pale red where the gunmen’s blood had mixed with the rain running off
their coats.

In the absence of
any sounds to direct me, I ignored the two staircases and the doors on either
side of me and headed straight forward through an open set of double doors. This
was the dining room. A long wooden table capable of seating about twenty people
was splattered with blood and surrounded by three more bodies. Going by the
number of men I’d already seen, I was lucky I hadn’t got here first. I wouldn’t
have liked to get caught in the middle of this.

Again, I ignored
the doors in the side walls and hopped across the table to another set of double
doors. These ones were sliding doors. One was closed. The other had been
knocked down by the falling body of another Webster henchman.

Through these doors
was a living room, if that term applied in mansions. The fireplace was empty
and cold, the bottom spotted with raindrops. The room was filled by couches,
tables, a drinks cabinet at either end and four dead men.

Another gunshot
sounded, finally telling me where the survivors were. The sound had come from
upstairs. To my right, a door lay open, leading through to whatever room also
connected to the dining room. I headed for it. Several more shots getting
louder told me that there was a set of stairs in this next room. I avoided the
bloody handprint smeared across the door and stepped through. This was the
kitchen. It ran the length from this door to the front of the house. The man
who’d survived his wound long enough to make his way in here had made it no further.
He was slumped in a chair at a wooden table made glassy-smooth by years of
scrubbing. A bullet was mostly buried in the table in front of him, surrounded
by blood. Someone had followed him in and finished him off while he sat bleeding
out.

I let my gun lead
me up the stairs. I hoped none of the steps would creak. Other than those
occasional gunshots, the place was silent. A creaking step would be like
shouting ‘here I come, ready or not’. Halfway up, the stairs turned ninety
degrees. The shot came again, replied to by the shard gun. One had come from
the right and the other from the left. I was about to walk out into a hallway
in between two shooters.

‘Give it up,’ came
a call from round to the right. ‘Everyone else is dead. It’s just us.’

‘Then I’ll have no
trouble once you join them,’ was the reply. I recognised the voice. The
arrogant drawl. I could almost hear the smirk. I’d only heard Holt speak once,
but all the shocks had burned every memory of that asshole firmly into my
brain.

I waited. I wasn’t
sure what for. There was no way of telling what was what up in that hallway. Obviously
both Holt and the off-worlder had cover. Maybe the best thing was to wait until
the next time one of them took a shot and then take whoever replied by
surprise.

‘We own this town,
you stupid shit. Even if you get away from here, you think you’ll get far? Either
you throw in with us, or we throw you in a shallow grave.’

Holt’s response
came from his shard gun. Perhaps the same one that had been dangerously close
to cutting me in half. That was my cue. I took the last two steps in one go and
with one big stride I was in the hallway. My gun came up level with…nothing. Where
I’d expected the off-worlder to be sticking his head out from was just empty
air.