Mutant City (18 page)

‘You planning on robbing me?’ Tink asked, aware of a man slightly behind him and to his left, emerging from cover and approaching the rear of his cart.

‘Robbing you? No. I like to think of it as a toll. This here is a toll road, and if you haven’t got the right fee, I’m afraid you’ll have to pay in some other way. Like with your freedom.’

Tink sat unmoving, waiting.

As the man pulled up the tarpaulin at the back of the wagon, there was a terrible scream. The creature waiting beneath the cover was hideous to behold, a great coiled dragon-like beast with bulging eyes and a huge mouth full of deadly teeth. It lunged out at the man, and the scream was abruptly cut off.

Tink threw back the poncho and rose to his feet, pulling out a weapon. It was an ancient device, a leftover from before the Last War, and unlike the guns used inside the cities that fired pulsed energy, this one still fired projectiles. Two barrels, side by side, swung up as he pulled the first trigger, doing his best not to be blown off his feet and end up in the back of the wagon by the recoil. The shotgun boomed, causing birds and other winged creatures of every description to take to the skies from the trees. The two remaining ambushers also managed to get off their own shots. One of the crossbow bolts flew through the air no more than a hand’s width in front of Tink’s nose; the other hit him above the eye. If Tink hadn’t turned his head in response to the first, the second shot would have killed him. Fortunately it was more of a glancing blow; the bolt cut through the flesh and had enough momentum to snap the old man’s head back so he spun around. He fell from the wagon, already unconscious before he hit the hard ground.

Out cold and bleeding, Tink couldn’t know that his shot had killed the man standing before him; neither did he see that the monster in the wagon behind him had already slid from the vehicle, snaking across the ground at great speed towards the third ambusher as he desperately scrabbled to reload. The man never got to fire another shot.

Later, Tink would have no recollection of being put in the back of the cart and covered over with the tarpaulin. Anya, despite the agony, had struggled back into her human form and, after freeing the other captives, who were tied up and face down in the men’s own wagon, had jumped in behind Tink’s harg, urged the animal into a gallop and set off for City Four, determined to get her friend and saviour the medical attention he needed.

Rush

Two days after they’d crossed the river and left Logtown behind them, Rush, Brick and Dotty finally reached the outskirts of Muteville. Despite spending most of the journey from there glancing over their own shoulders, there had been no sign of the ARM, and Rush was glad they’d destroyed the ferry so completely. Tired and hungry, they shuffled along, too exhausted even to speak. It wasn’t just fatigue from the journey that had rendered them voiceless; the nearer they’d got to the sprawling slums, the clearer it became how different were the two worlds separated by the colossal city wall. From a distance, the dark sprawling ghetto that had grown up in the shadow of the city had not seemed so bad, but now that they were within touching distance, their souls had become infected by the misery of the place.

As if unwilling to enter the slum straight away, they skirted around the fringes, moving inexorably closer to the vast wall that, even from a distance, loomed over everything.

Most of what Rush knew about the cities he’d gleaned from advertisements and reports he’d seen on a battered old comms screen at a neighbouring ranch. The screen was cracked and it was difficult to make anything out on the ancient device, but even so, it had been clear to him that life in the cities was something worth dreaming about. Whenever the InterCity Games were on, he and Josuf would make the long journey out to the nearest trading post and watch some of the events on a screen set up in a tent, paying two credits each for the privilege. This place was nothing like the images he had seen. The Mute settlement was dismal. If Rush needed any further proof of how disparate the two societies were, their experience when they approached the no-man’s-land immediately at the base of the wall provided it.

From the mutant side, the start of this no-go zone was a fence topped with razor wire with guard towers placed at regular intervals along it. Uniformed armed men occasionally paused on the parapets, and it was as Rush and Brick came close to the wire barrier that they drew the attention of one of these sentries. A device like a metallic insect the size of a man’s head immediately took off into the air from the tower, the high-pitched whining of its propellers adding to the impression of its being a living thing. It headed towards them, hovering in the air out of reach above them. Rush looked up, straight into the domed lens suspended beneath the thing’s ‘torso’.

‘You there!’ An electronic voice addressed them. ‘Step away from the fence.’

Brick looked from the remote-controlled surveillance drone to the source of the noise: a small speaker mounted to a post nearby. He approached the stanchion, straining his neck to get a better look at the box and grille.

‘STEP AWAY, MUTE,’ the voice barked at him.

Rush cast his eyes in the direction of the tower nearest to them just as a guard swung something up to his shoulder. The youngster screwed his eyes shut as a bright red beam of light flashed across his vision for an instant. When he opened them again there was a red spot dancing on his chest.

‘Er, Brick . . .’

Brick grinned at him, oblivious to the danger. ‘That voice. The man’s up
there
–’ he pointed at the tower – ‘but we can hear him through the box thing
here
.’

‘We need to move, Brick. The man up there is getting angry.’

‘Say something else, soldier man!’ Brick called in the guard’s direction before turning to look eagerly at the speaker, hoping to hear the disembodied voice again.

‘Come on, big guy.’ Rush put his hand in the crook of Brick’s arm and gently pulled him away, aware that a second red dot had joined the first, this one firmly fixed on Brick’s head. The dots stayed with them as they moved off, only disappearing when they were well away from the fence and heading back in the direction they’d come from, towards the hovels of Muteville.

The buildings at the outermost edges of the vast, sprawling slum were little more than hastily thrown up lean-tos, many of which were still under construction as new arrivals added to the existing mass of mutants. The people who sat outside these poor excuses for a home looked wretched, and Rush found it difficult to meet their eyes. Moving deeper into the shantytown the pair discovered that the shacks lying beyond these were slightly better made; the walls firmed up and fixed with nails or ropes, the roofs more solid and gap-free. Those beyond
these
were better yet. Rush imagined that if he was able to fly over the squalid settlement he would see that the slums grew outwards from some central point; each new ring poorer and humbler than the one preceding it, until its residents could improve their dwellings.

The smell was terrible, although it didn’t seem to bother the children who laughed and chased each other among the filth and sewage running down open ditches at their feet. A mangy-looking dog raised the hackles on its neck as Rush and Brick approached, but the animal quickly put its tail between its legs and scampered away when it got a look at the rogwan trailing along behind them. The three of them moved deeper inside the slums, and it became clear what a daunting task lay ahead of them: the place was a maze filled to the rafters with people of every description. Every inch of space was taken up, the gaps between the buildings so narrow in places that they were only navigable side-on. Mutes sprawled out of the buildings, and everyone eyed the newcomers with distrust. Nobody seemed to know anything about a man called Silas, and most of the people Rush asked were openly hostile as he approached their living space, as if suspecting he might try to take it from them.

‘Go to City Four and find a man called Silas,’ Rush had been told.
How? How were he and Brick ever going to find one man among this chaos?
After everything they’d already been through, this was the last thing he’d expected, and he was soon filled with desperation and hopelessness.

After about an hour of walking along aimlessly, the way ahead opened up and they stepped out into a small square with houses facing inwards towards a small water pump in the centre. Although the space was small, it came as a relief to Rush, who’d begun to feel claustrophobic among the rat runs they’d been negotiating until now.

The three approached the pump. As Rush reached for the handle, a voice called out to him.

‘I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.’

He stopped and looked across at an old woman standing in a doorway.

‘Excuse me?’ he said, giving her a friendly smile.

‘That pump belongs to Green Ward. You’re not from this ward, so you’ve got no right to our water.’

‘We’re thirsty. We’ve been travelling for a long time, and –’

‘I don’t care who you are or where you’re from. That water is for the people of Green Ward, and you are not welcome to it. Move on. You can buy water at the market.’

Rush eyed the pump longingly. With a shake of his head he approached the woman.

‘If we’re not welcome to your water, maybe you can help us with something else. I’m looking for somebody.’

The woman said nothing, just gave him a look that suggested she was not impressed by having strangers wandering up and talking to her.

‘He’s my uncle.’ He had no idea why he told this lie, but it was out of his lips before he knew it. ‘I was sent here to find him. His name is Silas.’

He thought he detected the hint of something in her eye, but she shook her head and addressed him in the same stark tone she’d used to warn him away from the water. ‘Never heard of him.’

‘Do you know where I could ask? It’s very important that I –’

Brick, who’d been silent up until now, tapped Rush on the shoulder. ‘Rush,’ he said.

‘Not now, Brick. I’m trying to –’

‘There’s someone in there.’ He nodded towards the dark interior. ‘Someone who needs me.’

The woman looked at the giant with open distrust. She was about to speak when Brick walked up to the door, pushed past her and entered the shack.

‘Hey!’ the old woman said, following the hulking intruder inside. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? You can’t just barge your way in here. Get out!’

But if Brick heard her, he didn’t show it. He stood, perfectly still, staring at a small, unmoving figure on top of a thin and grimy mattress at the back of the room.

‘She’s sick.’ His voice was so low Rush had to strain to hear him. Brick took a step towards the bed.

‘Don’t you touch her!’ the old woman said. ‘Don’t hurt her!’

‘Already hurting,’ Brick said. ‘I can see it. She doesn’t have very long.’

‘Horace! Janek!’ the woman cried out of her front door to her neighbours across the square. ‘Anyone! Come quick! Help!’

‘Brick
.
.
.’ Rush put a hand on the big guy’s arm and tried to pull him back. He might as well have been tugging at the giant wall that loomed over this place. Brick knelt down beside the pallet and reached out, gently brushing the sick young woman’s thin hair away from her forehead with his fingertips. Then he put his enormous hand on the top of her head and gently curled his fingers around it as if her skull was a ball.

The woman went to grab Brick, but Rush held her back. ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘You have to trust him! He can help!’

‘Let go of me! Get him away from her!’ the woman shrieked. ‘Janek!’

Brick’s entire body went stiff. His face contorted into a ghastly rictus – mouth drawn down, jaw clenched shut so the muscles at the side of his face and the cords on his neck stood out. It looked as if a powerful invisible force was flowing through him from head to toe. The figure on the bed gave a little moan and then she too went ramrod stiff. Rush tore his eyes away to look at the woman. Dumbstruck now, she gawped at the scene unravelling before her. The little shack was filled with a harsh ozone smell.

Brick still had the sick girl’s head in his hand, both of them vigorously jerking and twitching for what could only have been seconds but seemed much longer to those watching. The look on Brick’s face was terrible. Thinking something had gone horribly wrong and that his friend was in danger, Rush was about to try to physically pry them apart when Brick flew violently backwards, his meaty shoulders slamming into the hard ground. There was a low, terrible groan, and the giant rolled on to his side, drawing his knees to his chest. He closed his eyes and lay there unmoving.

Rush dashed over to his friend’s side, taking Brick’s huge head in his hands and asking him over and over again if he was all right. He could hear the desperation in his own voice when Brick didn’t respond.

‘What just happened?’ the old woman asked in a shrill voice. ‘What has that thing done to my –’

‘Mama?’

The woman stopped. She stared in disbelief at the girl on the bed, who’d turned to look at her for the first time in three weeks. ‘Yala!’ she cried, throwing herself down beside the makeshift bed and gathering her daughter into her arms. As the tears ran down her face, she failed to notice the arrival of some men at her door.