Stalker's Luck (Solitude Saga Book 1) (17 page)

“All right, stalker,” Williams said. “Let’s go. Behind you.”

Eddie spun as a thug appeared from the direction of the restaurant. He squeezed off a shot. The man fell with a hole between his eyes. His friends cried out.

“Nice shot,” Williams said.

“Thanks,” Eddie said over his shoulder, moving towards the restaurant. “But if we’re done jerking each other off….”

A small silver sphere flew through the restaurant door, bounced off the wall, and rolled along the ground.

Grenade.

Eddie took three steps and kicked the sphere back in the direction it’d come. Someone yelled, “Shit!”

Eddie pressed himself against the wall and shielded his eyes as the grenade blew. A flash of blinding light pierced his eyelids. Static sang in his ears. Stun grenade. He blinked away the purple afterburn and limped out into the restaurant. Williams’ heavy footsteps pounded behind him.

Two more of Leone’s thugs staggered through the restaurant, hands over their eyes, retching. The furthermost one blinked and squinted at Eddie through open eyes. He began to raise his shotgun.

Eddie put him down with two shots through the chest. Williams’ gun cracked behind him. The other thug slumped over a table, his groan fading into a hiss of escaping air.

“You look upset, stalker,” Williams said. “Does this killing disturb you?”

“Unlike you, I didn’t come here looking to start a fight.”

“A stalker with a conscience. Surprising.”

“And a murderer without one. Utterly, utterly dull. Where the hell is that can opener?”

“Back here,” Knox said.

Eddie turned and found the augment emerging from behind the red stage curtain. Knox froze when his eyes fell on Williams.

“Why is he still carrying a gun?”

“We’re all pals now,” Eddie said. “At least for the next ten minutes. Come on, get down here before more of these goons show up.” His eyes roamed over the dead thugs. Christ, what a mess. “How many does Leone have, anyway?”

“Less than he could have, but more than you could imagine,” Williams said as he moved towards the kitchen. “This way?”

“Through the back. Service elevator.”

Eddie followed, keeping one eye on the fugitive’s back while he scanned the kitchen. Something had turned black in an oven. Soup still bubbled in a huge metal pot on the stovetop. The scents mingled with the stench of his own blood and sweat, turning his stomach.

Knox stuck close behind him. “Is this a good idea?” the augment whispered.

Eddie gestured him to silence. Better to keep their target in sight than to have him running around this casino getting himself clipped by a lucky shot. Eddie wasn’t going to let his paycheque drain away in a pool of his own blood.

And if the man had a link to Cassandra, Eddie wanted to know what it was. If he knew where she’d gone, well, he’d just have to follow him.

Eddie stuck close behind Williams as they made their way through the kitchen to a large service elevator with wire-mesh doors.

“That’s it,” Knox said. “That should get us to the loading bay.”

Eddie glanced at the floor and saw footsteps outlined in blood. Williams noticed them too and met Eddie’s eyes.

“They went this way,” the fugitive said.

“Then we follow.”

Roy jabbed the call button and a winch started grinding. From deep below, the elevator creaked upwards.

“Not exactly speedy, is it?” Eddie said.

Roy grunted. Then his eyes slid past him. Eddie threw a glance over his shoulder. A shadow moved behind the circular window in the kitchen door. The softest creak of leather against the floor.

Eddie grabbed Knox by the scruff of his neck and shoved him to the floor behind a long kitchen bench. The kitchen doors flew open and gunfire roared. As scattered bursts of lead filled the air, he threw himself down. Williams dropped into cover beside him.

Metal pinged and cutlery dropped from overhead. Two leaks sprang from the soup pot, spilling thick orange liquid down the side. The soup turned black and smoky when it touched the stove flame.

“How many?” Eddie yelled over the cacophony of gunfire.

Williams held up five fingers.

“Shit,” Eddie said.

He glanced over at Knox. The augment cowered with his hands over his ears and his eyes screwed up tight as bullets punched through the bench around him. A small gap in the benches separated Eddie from Knox. A cart of dirty dishes was parked in the gap, the ceramic smashing one plate at a time.

“Cover me,” Eddie said to Williams.

Williams nodded. Stretched his neck back and forth. Then raised both his guns above the cover of the bench and fired blindly at the door.

The return fire slackened briefly. Thugs moving into cover. Eddie seized his chance. He peered around the edge of the bench, aimed between the racks of dishes on the cart, and started firing.

One thug went down immediately. Another saw his friend fall and darted back as Eddie’s shot went flying past him, scraping along his forearm as he ducked around the cover of the door.

Williams’ fire ceased. “Reloading,” he said as he ejected his magazines.

Eddie fired at the thugs in cover until he ran dry as well. Gun barrels appeared again. He ducked back behind the bench and scurried out of the way as the dishes cart as a hail of lead smashed through it, demolishing what was left of the crockery.

“I’m out,” Eddie said.

Roy glanced at him, forehead creasing slightly. Then he slid one of his guns along the kitchen floor.

“That’s my last magazine. Make it last.”

“Sure thing, Jack.”

Eddie peeked out for a moment. Two of the thugs were laying down suppressing fire. And the other two…there, Eddie glimpsed one of them flanking around to the right. The other one would be on the left. He gestured to Williams to take the right. The fugitive nodded and slid across to the edge of the bench.

Eddie brought himself up onto all fours and scurried past the cart of dishes. A flurry of shots followed him. As he crawled past Knox, he shoved the augment down further.

“Lie down and stay down.”

Knox only grunted in response.

There was a clang from the left, a shoe striking a fallen saucepan. Eddie pressed himself as flat against the bench as he could. A gun barrel appeared overhead, swinging down towards him.

Eddie pressed his own pistol against the thug’s kneecap and fired. The thug toppled with a scream that trembled through Eddie’s chest.

Before the thug could hit the ground, Eddie grabbed the man’s gun arm by the wrist, buried his pistol into the man’s gut, and fired twice more. The scream became a gurgle.

Breathing heavy, Eddie picked up the fallen man’s gun and glanced across at Williams. The fugitive had dispatched the other flanking goon with a single shot to the head. Eddie could no longer hear anything except the ringing in his ears. He shuffled away from the still-moving thug beside him.

The elevator
. He looked over as the mesh grate folded open.

“Williams!” he yelled. His own voice sounded thick, like he was underwater.

The fugitive glanced back and Eddie gestured at the elevator. He held up three fingers and began to count down.

Two.

One.

Eddie stood and blazed away at the kitchen doorway with both guns. Bullets ricocheted around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Williams firing as well. The remaining thugs ducked back into cover.

Now was their chance. Eddie kicked Knox’s shoe and gestured to the elevator. Shakily, the augment scrambled into the waiting metal box. As he moved, Eddie raised his guns and fired at the lights. One by one the room drifted into thin semi-darkness, concealing their escape.

Firing half-blind into the smoke as he went, Eddie hurried to the elevator. Williams reached it at the same time. They ducked inside as Knox pressed the button on the control panel. The gate creaked closed and the elevator began to rumble slowly downwards. Eddie continued to fire through the gate, keeping the goons suppressed.

One of Eddie’s guns ran empty, then the other. Roy’s was already dry. The return fire started again, but it was too late. The bullets pinged harmlessly above them as the elevator descended and the kitchen disappeared from sight.

19

Eddie breathed heavily as the service elevator descended. Next to him, Roy tossed his now useless gun on the floor of the elevator. Eddie tucked one of his empty guns into his pocket, but kept the other in his hand. He stretched his jaw to try to pop his ears and worked his little finger back and forth in his ear canal.

“I can’t hear a damn thing.”

Williams said nothing, just watched the concrete of the shaft grind past. Knox was jacking himself into the elevator control panel.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asked.

“Making sure they can’t stop the elevator.”

“Can you stop them calling the elevator back up when we hit the bottom?”

“Sure. For a while.”

“Do it.”

“None of this was part of the deal, you know,” Knox said. “I wasn’t supposed to get shot at.”

“Bring it up with the union.”

The elevator drew to a halt and the gate slid open onto a wide concrete box of a room. To the left were two rows of near-empty shelves. Beyond the shelves was a door. On the right side of the room, the wall opened up and tunnels disappeared in both directions. That’d be where the delivery train came through. Overhead, strip lights cast everything into a cold pale blue. There was no one in sight.

Eddie stepped out of the elevator, shoes squeaking on the slick lining of the floor. He could no longer see the bloody shoeprints of the evacuating staff.

“Where to from here?” he said.

Williams moved past him, heading towards the tunnel. “The train. The guard I interrogated said they commandeered a supply train. Leone has a standing agreement with the train company for such an event.”

“Yeah? He does this often?”

“More than you would expect.” Roy stood at the edge of the platform and peered up and down the tunnel. A low rumbling came from far away, but there was no telling if it was a train or the water pipes or a hundred other pieces of old-tech machinery struggling to keep the station alive.

“How long until the next train?” Eddie said to Knox. “Can you find out where they got off?”

The augment brought up his tab. “I can find out when the train runs, but they go all over the city. It could’ve stopped a hundred places between here and wherever they got off. It’s all automated.”

“Hm. So where’d they get off, Jack?” he said to Williams.

“Somewhere they think is safe.”

“Is that so?” Eddie muttered to himself. He stretched his fingers and strolled towards the platform where Williams stood.

“Here we go,” Knox said. “We’re in luck. Next train in forty-eight seconds.”

“Perfect,” Eddie said as he slipped his hand into his inside jacket pocket and fished out his plastic zip-cuffs. “Williams, give me a hand with something.”

The fugitive turned and Eddie slammed the butt of his empty gun into the larger man’s face. His nose shattered with a spray of blood.

Williams stumbled back, growling. His eyes were unfocused. Ignoring his aches, Eddie closed in quick, raising the gun to deliver another blow. He had to do this fast.

He swung. But at the same moment, Williams charged forward. Eddie’s blow went wide, striking the fugitive’s shoulder. The blow jarred Eddie’s arm. And then Williams was on him, wrapping his arms around him and slamming all of his weight into him.

The air went out of Eddie’s lungs and he hit the floor, Williams on top of him. His gun and cuffs went flying. How was the fugitive this fast? He’d never seen a man his size move like that. He stared up into Williams’ bared teeth as the man cocked back a fist.

With a flick of his wrist, Eddie dropped a short-bladed knife from his jacket sleeve into his hand and plunged it into Williams’ thigh. The fugitive didn’t even seem to notice it. Williams’ fist descended, filling Eddie’s vision.

He slipped to the side, feeling the tips of Williams’ knuckles brush past his ear. Williams’ bones crunched as his fist slammed into the floor where his head had been.

Williams snarled, momentarily recoiling from the pain. Eddie took his chance, pulling his blade clear of the man’s thigh and bringing it up. Spitting blood, the fugitive brought his hand down again in an open-fisted blow.

Eddie got the knife up and drove it into Williams’ palm. The force of Williams’ own attack pushed the point of the blade deep into the flesh. The fugitive howled. The rumbling in the tunnel was growing louder. Knox was shouting something he couldn’t make out.

Eddie twisted the knife. Williams’ cry grew louder, his balance atop Eddie faltering. Eddie took his chance. Keeping one hand on the knife handle, he kicked out, rolling Williams onto his back and climbing onto his chest.

“Knox!” he yelled, his voice nearly drowned out by the roar of the approaching train. “Get the cuffs!”

“I won’t let you take me, stalker,” Williams growled through bloodstained teeth.

“You don’t have a choice in the matter, Jack.”

His arm trembled with the strain of holding the knife piercing the fugitive’s palm. Williams’ other arm darted out and snatched his wrist. The muscles of his forearm bulged as he struggled.

Knox came scurrying up, the cuffs in his hand. Eddie gritted his teeth as he strained to keep the larger man down.

“Get them on him,” Eddie said.

“Me?” Knox said.

“Now!”

The augment hesitated, then reached out. Eddie shifted his grip on the fugitive’s free arm to allow Knox to slip the cuffs over the struggling fugitive’s wrists.

A rush of stale air blew into the loading bay. Eddie’s ears were suddenly assailed by the screeching sound of the supply train flying by.

Knox jerked back at the sudden sound. Eddie’s grip on Williams’ wrist slipped. The fugitive twisted, pulling free of the knife in his hand.

Shit.

Eddie tried to regain his hold on the man, but it was too late. Williams kicked out, his boot connecting with Eddie’s knee. Sharp pain pulsed in time with the flashing lights of the passing train. He slipped.