Perdition (The Dred Chronicles) (16 page)

Gently, she probed her stomach and found a fresh, ridged scar. “Dear Mary.”

At that, Jael raised his head groggily. “You’re awake.”

“So are you, I see. Somewhat.”

“How long’s it been?” At this point, Dred had no sense of time.

“Four days, total.”

“You look like hell.” It was true. His face was beyond pale and into gray, his mouth white and bloodless. Deep purple circles shadowed his blue eyes, and his blond hair was dull, heavy with grease. The lines that slashed his arms filled her with guilt, a feeling she’d have said she was immune to.

Before her incarceration, she’d stalked so many murderers, hunted them like animals, and she hadn’t cared if they had families who didn’t know about their hidden proclivities. All that mattered was stopping them, so they couldn’t hurt anyone else. That single-minded pursuit of prey had made her too much like her targets. So this resurgence of emotion surprised her.

It’s the injuries. I’ll be back to normal soon. I just have to ignore it and ride this out.

“I could use a bath,” he admitted. “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead. And then you can help me. I can’t stand myself another minute.”

While he showered, she pulled herself upright. The room spun for a few seconds, but the head rush didn’t end in another bout of unconsciousness. It was impossible that he’d healed her in four days. Doubtless the process had been torture for both of them—for different reasons—but she was grateful. It didn’t sit well because the Dread Queen needed to be in a position of power . . . but Dred, the woman, didn’t.

Maybe it’s time I had somebody around who sees me otherwise.

That could be a dangerous game, but after the past days, she trusted Jael completely. If he wanted her dead, she would be. He’d suffered untold anguish to preserve her life, and the weight bothered her. She didn’t like the sensation of being in his debt. Whatever he’d said about treating him like a person, that wasn’t enough to balance the scales.

He was quick and efficient, returning wrapped in a length of cloth cut from some old mining uniforms. It draped around his hips as he moved. She noticed how thin he’d become just in a few days, though his build had never been overly muscular, which made his strength surprising. Dred hoped to Mary he never issued a challenge.

“I don’t have any clean clothes in here,” he said with a shrug. “And I’m not putting those back on. I think I might have them burned.”

“My turn,” she said.

There was no point in pretending he hadn’t spent the last four days becoming intimately acquainted with her body. Modesty was for people who lived normal, quiet lives. She stumbled toward the lavatory with his hand at her back to help with her balance. By the time she’d made it to the doorway, she was exhausted, but she wouldn’t admit it.

The men need to see me, if only a glimpse, for my victory to be complete.

She stepped into the tiny cubicle and Jael reached around her to turn on the water. The tepid trickle didn’t feel as good as she wished, but it was better than nothing. With his help, she washed up quickly, conscious of the water she used. If the other territories were reckless with their use of it, the tanks might be dry for a while before it all passed through the recyclers and filters, then filled back up for use. The idea of a water shortage scared her as much as anything in this hellhole.

Dred rinsed quickly, then said, “You can step out. I’m pretty sure I can dress and dry off without hitting my head and dying.”

“Forget it. I didn’t spend all this time bringing you back from the dead for nothing.”

“Fine.” She accepted his help, bristling, but by the time he handed the shirt to her, she admitted she needed the aid. “Ask Tam for some pants, then let’s go make a victory lap.”

“You got it.”

Outside, Einar stirred from a chair he’d hauled to the door. The big man’s expression brightened, then he swept her into a bone-crushing hug. “I can’t believe it. The last time I saw you, I was sure—”

“Just call me a miracle worker,” Jael said dryly. “Put her down now, lug. She’s breakable.”

“I am not.” Dred glared at them both and stalked toward the hall. When she reached her destination, the men rose as one and cheered in thunderous tones. They shouted for her as she marched around the hall, arms raised to demonstrate her strength.

She prayed nobody ever guessed how much each step cost her.

26

Zero Hour

Three days later, Queensland was as ready as it would ever be to march on Abaddon.

Jael still wasn’t sure it was wise to put all their faith in Silence. Treachery from Death’s Handmaiden would cost the territory everything. But Dred’s crew had voted in favor of the strike, so they moved forward, laid in all possible preparations. Thanks to a couple of return trips down the lift and back again, they had a turret set up at two checkpoints and plenty of ammo. Wills had the maintenance bot running perimeter checks now, not looking for walls in need of repair but intruders. And Einar had crafted some really bad-ass armor out of the Peacemaker unit.

Jael had fifty men under his command. He had been concerned about the bottleneck leading into Abaddon, which was why they’d agreed to split their forces. He was leading one group, Einar another, Martine the third, and Dred the last. Wills and Ike remained behind to look after Queensland while Tam would be gathering intel quietly on his own, which was what he did best. It had been so many turns since Jael had fought in an actual battle—and he’d never led troops before. He was astonished she’d trusted him with the responsibility, yet life as a merc had prepared him for combat more than armed robbery, rape, or mass murder, the credentials other fish had to offer.

So maybe it’s not that they trust you—only that they don’t have anyone better.

That probability made him laugh softly as Dred strode into the hall. All eyes turned to her, and the men parted and fell quiet. She vaulted on top of one of the tables so they could see her from all corners of the room. That movement said she was strong and fit to lead, but only he knew how much it cost her. He read fierce pride and admiration in their collective faces; this woman could command armies in the real world. They would follow her, not for any cause, but through the sheer force of her will.

“This is phase one in the eradication of our enemies,” she called in ringing tones. That received a howl of response, and she let them get it out of their systems before continuing. “By this time tomorrow, the hell Priest calls Abaddon will be a wasteland. If you’re angry, show
them
your rage. Teach them what it means to be a Queenslander!”

Deafening cheers rang out. Jael couldn’t believe it, but in half a turn, she had managed to unite these men into a nation. These criminals took
pride
in their homeland, such as it was, and he had no doubt it was because of her. The man she’d killed must have lacked similar magnetism, or there was no way she could’ve supplanted him so impressively. He’d worked for petty dictators who would’ve killed for her charisma.

Of course, they killed all the time, so that’s not saying much.

“When you report to your commanders, remember that when you fight for them, you’re fighting for me.” Her gaze went somber, and she spun in a full circle as if making eye contact with everyone in the room. Jael noticed Martine propped against the far wall. Her men stood ready nearby, listening to the Dread Queen.

“Some of you won’t return,” Dred said then.

Damn. And she was doing so well, too.

But he had underestimated her. The room quieted again, and he glimpsed Tam pushing forward as if to rein Dred in. She ignored him and went on. “Once this is over, I’ll have Wills carve your names on the wall. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten, nor will your bravery be in vain. The Conglomerate locked you away. They said you were too wicked to walk free. I say you’re warriors, and I believe
all
of you possess the potential to be heroes.”

“Damn right,” Einar roared, and the crowd echoed it back.

She’s got them back, right in the palms of her pretty hands. They’d die for her.

So would I,
he realized a few seconds later, as she unwrapped her chains from her in an unmistakable sign she was ready to go to war. Dred swooped them over her head in a deadly arc, then slammed them down on the table. The echo reverberated around the room before she lifted her chains and twirled them; it seemed she would strangle herself or get tangled up in them, but her arms never slowed their graceful motion.

“What’re you gonna do?” she called.

“Kill!”

“I can’t hear you.” She lashed again.

“Kill!”
With his amplified hearing, the roar nearly blew out Jael’s eardrums.

Fortunately, she took that as a sign that the men were sufficiently jacked up, and shouted, “Report to your commanders and don’t let me see your faces until the enemy is dead.”

Come home with your shield or on it.
He couldn’t recall where he’d heard that, but it echoed in his head as his men formed up around him. Though that wasn’t strictly accurate, as several women were assigned to his company, including Calypso. He knew firsthand, however, how ferocious women could be—and if she’d been shipped to Perdition, then she could fight.

“We have the east corridor. Move out.” He didn’t wait to see if they followed him.

A few seconds later, footsteps assured him they had.

Dred would be approaching from the west and Einar from the south. Martine would be mopping up stragglers. He had no idea what back approach Silence intended to employ, but maybe her people knew hidden ways in the ducts, like Tam, or she could be coming up from underneath, through the Warren. Though Katur and his aliens wouldn’t like it if they knew, Jael suspected that the silent killers could pass undetected.

His squad was large for the size of the corridors, however. Jael divided them up in pairs, so they formed a fairly long column. He chose Calypso to guard the rear, mostly because he thought she’d appreciate the responsibility. Retribution should feel sweet—and she would make sure their group wasn’t ambushed on the way. From the gleam of her teeth as she accepted the assignment, she didn’t want to miss out on the bloodbath to come.

Jael took point. It was an easy progress past the east checkpoint. The turret was looking good, and the man standing behind him couldn’t have looked prouder as the troop marched by.
You’d think this was happening on a much larger scale.
But maybe it didn’t matter. It was still important. Even though this wasn’t a country or a planet, it was still their world.

It’s all we have.

He realized it was human nature to make the best of all awful situations, even one as bad as this. The cream would always rise to the top.
And that’s Dred.

A few minutes later, Jael laughed when they ran into their first patrol. Men less fanatical would’ve fled. Priest’s four guards ran at them with suicide in their eyes. Jael obliged two of them himself; he made it clean and quick, then he stepped back so the rest of the men could get their shot. It was a bloody, horrendous mess, and his soldiers laughed as they stepped over the mangled bodies. He’d served with chem-head mercs less bloodthirsty.

“Keep it up,” he called.

“Maybe you should lead from the rear. You didn’t leave much for the rest of us.” He recognized Calypso’s voice.

“Nobody will go home hungry, I promise you.” He hoped they knew he meant sating their yen for violence. Someone had told him that people who ate their fallen enemies ended up in Munya—Mungo’s domain—sooner or later, as they weren’t welcome in other territories, not even Entropy.

“I’m holding you to that,” someone said.

“I think we need some marching music. Anybody got a military background?”

A tall man near the back answered, “I served. Want me to lead the chant?”

He nodded. “Make some noise. We’re not trying to sneak up anybody’s ass.”

With the former soldier leading the call and response, they rolled through four more patrols, and he made sure to stand clear, letting his men do the actual killing. The convicts shouted their appreciation and stomped the floor. Jael saluted and kept moving since there was a schedule to keep. Timing played a vital role in the plan Silence had offered. If the diversions didn’t occur at precisely the same time, it would impact the effectiveness of her sneak attack. Likewise, if she betrayed them, and the attack didn’t come, Dred’s forces would be cut down by the automated defenses.

But he’d learned from the best and didn’t let any of his doubts show. He pushed his squad forward though he could hear combat in the distance. Before long, they were hearing it, too.

“Are we late to the party?” Calypso yelled.

He answered, “Hope not. I’ll be pissed if they started without us.”

“No shit,” she came back.

“Double-time! Let’s move.” Jael set a bruising pace, and most of the men kept up.

Their feet rang out against the floor, announcing their arrival, but something was already going down in Abaddon.
Dammit, I was keeping the count. This wasn’t supposed to start for another five thousand ticks.
Since they didn’t have radios, they’d agreed to count down the action and begin as close to unison as they could.

His crew burst into the east corridor and were astonished to find Priest’s people already engaging the enemy—but not Queenslanders. These were aliens, every last one of them. Some species he recognized, like the furry, larger-than-life Rodeisian, a stray Ithtorian, no Morgut, thank Mary, some humanoid, looking similar to humanity but half-baked—they probably came from adaptive colonies—and then there were creatures he’d never seen before. Ones with trunks and tentacles; others that looked like walking amphibians. And every one of them was fighting Priest’s fanatics.

The battle raged just outside the range of Abaddon’s turrets. The son of a bitch had more than one, too. Breaking them wouldn’t be easy once he decided what the hell to do about this mess. Beyond the combat zone, he spotted a couple of Peacemakers, too. Mary only knew how Priest had managed to subvert them.

“What the hell,” Calypso said, shoving to the front.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“So what’s the play?” she demanded.

“I’m thinking we wade in. I didn’t come to this party to watch other people dance.”

Calypso’s smile lit up her hard face. “You’re my kind of asshole.”

“Thanks,” he said, flashing her the standby charming smile. “I have no fragging idea what they’re doing here, but they’re not on our roster of asses to kick today. Understood?”

“No alien bashing today!” the men called back in unison.

He laughed because they were fairly cooperative for thugs and lowlifes. “Then why are you still standing here? For Queensland!”