Sunspire (The Reach, Book 4) (8 page)

Moonie’s face contorted with rage and he hurled the remnants of the carrot into the floor.

“Fucking limp, that’s what this is,” he snarled.

“Just shut up and enjoy licking your carrot juice off the floor,” Zoe said as she moved past him, the assault rifle still at the ready.

“You fucking little bitch–”

“Unless you want your head to resemble that carrot, I’d stop right there,” Duran said.

The crowd parted and they moved through cautiously, keeping their guns at the ready.  There was no further trouble, however, and they were allowed to leave without another shot being fired.

Once they reached the staircase, their pace lifted again.

“Let’s get out of here,” Roman said.  “Something tells me that might not be the last we see of those guys.”

“They won’t bother chasing,” Duran said.

“Why not?”

“Like he said,” Zoe began, “there are easier marks than us out there.”

“Even so, that was a stupid thing to do,” Silvestri said, his brow creased.  “Stupid and reckless.”

“And you’d have handled things better, given the chance?” Duran said.

“Absolutely.”

Duran glared back at him.  “Listen, what happened back there, that’s the only way for us to make it out of here.  That kind of response is the only language these people understand.  If we’d have rolled over and given them what they wanted, they wouldn’t have stopped at the contents of those parcels.  Next they’d have taken our guns, our creds… you can probably figure out where this all ends.”

“I know how it works with these people,” Silvestri said.  “
I’ve been dealing with their type in Link for years.
  I also know that taking unnecessary risks is a good way to end up dead.  If we want to get out of here, we have to play this smart.  We can’t just go rushing into conflict at the slightest opportunity.”

“There’s no point doubling back or trying to find another way around,” Duran said.  “You’d just increase our chances of running into another cohort, one that’s probably even worse than those guys.”

Silvestri grabbed Duran by the shoulder and spun him around.  “Leave the decision making to me from now on–”

Duran’s .38 was in his hand again, this time with the muzzle against the underside of Silvestri’s chin.

“Hey!” Talia cried out, starting forward, but Zoe lifted an arm to bar her progress.

“Wait,” she said calmly.  The
n
she turned to Duran.  “Alec, put that fucking thing away.  We’re not going to kill each other.”

Duran stared into Silvestri’s eyes for a moment longer, then did as she suggested
.  He shrugged roughly out of Silvestri’s grasp.

“I’m done with these people,” he said.  “Zoe, we’re on our own from here.”

“No,” Zoe said adamantly.  “Our best chance of making it out of here is to stick together.  We’ve almost hit Gaslight.  That’s where things are going to get worse.”

“If we listen to this guy,” Duran said, gesturing to Silvestri, “we’re not going to make it off this goddamn floor.”

There was a sound further up the stairwell, the clatter of boots echoing downward, and Talia and Roman exchanged a worried glance.

“There’s not time for this now,” Silvestri said.  “We need to move.”

Duran looked impatiently at Zoe, then shook his head in frustration.

“Screw it.  Let’s just get out of here,” he said.

They began to hasten downward again, and Talia chanced a look up the stairwell to see who was coming.  There was nothing to see, just the whisper and scrape of boots on concrete filtering down menacingly.

In a matter of minutes they would be in Gaslight.

10

“Well, Gaslight is about as shitty as when we left,” Duran said, glancing around the smoke-filled corridor where they’d stopped to gather their bearings.

“I’d say shittier,” Talia said.

“Yes
.  Anyway, two levels down and we hit Ninety-Six,” Silvestri said.

Duran turned his attention from the corridor ahead and looked back at him.

“So what?”

“So, that’s where the good samaritan
in Lux said they’d set up winches in the elevators.  It’s where they’re helping people get to the ground floor.”

Duran turned away again, staring out into the gloom.  “You actually bought that?”

“Why not?”

“Because the guy himself said he hadn’t heard from his friends since last night.  In case you haven’t been keeping up, a lot has changed since then.”

Silvestri finished checking the magazine from his assault rifle, then slapped it home.

“It’s still worth taking a look.”

Duran swallowed a retort before it could leave his throat.  There was no point arguing.  He and Silvestri just weren’t on the same page.

He had to admit that he respected Silvestri as a fighter.  Over the last twenty-four hours, the man had shown that he could handle himself in a skirmish.  However, his decision making left a lot to be desired.  Most of the time, he and Duran seemed to be at polar opposites when it came to choosing the next course of action.

In truth, Duran couldn’t wait to cut free of Silvestri and his friends.  At best, they were slowing he and Zoe down.  At worst, they were going to get them killed.

Once they’d left the Reach, there would no longer be any point sticking together.  Silvestri and the others would be heading toward Sunspire, and for Duran, there was a much different destination in mind.  He wanted to move across Link and track down his father, the only person apart from Zoe that he still cared for, and get him to safety.  Although he hadn’t seen much of the old man since his disgrace with the Enforcers three years ago, he still felt their bond was as strong as ever.  He could still picture the pride in his father’s face on the day he’d left to join the Enforcer ranks within the Reach.

He wouldn’t allow those animals in Link to have their way with him.  Duran would find a way to get to him, no matter what the cost.

Nearby, Silvestri craned his neck and looked back along the corridor, a scowl on his face.

“What do you keep looking back there for?” Duran said.

Silvestri grimaced.  “I think we’re being followed.”

“Let me guess – two big guys wearing hoods?”

Silvestri looked at him sharply.  “You saw them?”

“Pretty hard to miss.  They’re trying to be inconspicuous but not
doing a very good job of it.”

“It could be just our imaginations,” Silvestri said.  “They probably don’t have any interest in us at all.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Duran said.  “I saw them when we first entered the Greenhouses, and they’ve kept popping up ever since.  It’s not a coincidence.”

“I saw them in Lux,” Silvestri said.  “That was before they separated from the crowd.”

“Wait a minute,” Talia said, alarmed.  “Is this something we need to be concerned about?”

Duran and Silvestri exchanged a look.  “Not yet,” Duran said.  “Probably just a couple of lowlifes looking for a score.  We’ll probably shake them in Gaslight.”

“Forget about what’s behind us,” Zoe said.  “Is there any sign of the Redmen you saw earlier up ahead?”

Duran turned to look out across the corridor again.  “I don’t know if it was Redmen or someone else I saw out there.”

“But are they gone?” she persisted.

Duran waited a moment.  “Yeah, I think so.”

“Then let’s move out,” Zoe said, and she started off down the corridor with her rifle at the ready.

Duran fell in behind.  Since they’d reached Gaslight a little earlier, it had quickly become evident that the place was in an even worse state than yesterday.  The smoke was thicker, and the distant sound of gunfire more frequent.

In short, it had become a full-blown war zone.

Duran could only wonder at how long it would take for those fires to spread, to consume the entirety of Gaslight, then progress outward, eating away at the remainder of the Reach like a cancer.

He also wondered what would happen should they become lost in this labyrinth of dark corridors while the fire closed in around them, trapping them and filling their lungs with smoke, and eventually consigning them to a slow and inescapable death.

Best not to even consider that
, he thought grimly.

They reached the end of the corridor, then turned and began along another one.  They hadn’t gone far when Duran heard footsteps coming from an adjoining tunnel.

“Heads up!” he said, and the others snapped into place, flattening themselves against the walls and bringing up their weapons. 
Yun
was the only exception.  He moved sluggishly, his hands containing nothing but
the holy beads he’d acquired earlier
.  His knuckles were white, such was the force with which he clenched them.  “Take cover, man!” Duran spat at him.

Shadows swam across the corridor, and then a group of people appeared not far away, little more than vague outlines cloaked in smoke.

“Stay where you are!” Silvestri shouted at them.  “We’re armed, and very pissed off.”

“Please, don’t shoot!” a man called back.  He began to approach, his arms raised submissively.  “Don’t hurt us.  We’re just trying to get out of here.”

“Who are you?” Duran said.

The man’s face materialised through the haze, haggard and streaked with blood and charcoal.  There was a hollowness about his eyes that told Duran that this was a man who had stared into the abyss and lost all hope.

At his hip limped a young boy who clutched desperately at the man’s trousers, gazing up fearfully at Duran and the others.

“Speak up!” Duran said.  “Who are you?”

“Refugees,” the man said, coming to a halt nearby, his hands still in the air.  “Honest people just trying to escape with our lives.”

“Honest people, huh?” Duran said.  “Haven't seen many of those around here lately.”

The others behind the man were coming forward now, coughing and crying, their eyes bleary and red
.  Some bore open burn marks on their faces and arms, while others had strapped bandages around their injuries.  To the last, these people looked as though they had be
en dragged across the coals of Hell, their souls scorched and scraped away in the process.

“Please, we have to go,” the man said.  “Time’s running short.”

“Time for what?” Silvestri said.

The man glanced over his shoulder and pointed.  “The Redmen.  They’ve been hunting down the militia, and anyone else who gets in their way.  We gave them the shake back there, but–”

At that moment there was more gunfire, closer than before, and the sound of heavy boots approaching.  Without waiting for permission, the man and the boy set off again, limping away down the next corridor, and those behind followed closely on their heels.

Duran did not even bother to try to call them back.  He glanced at Zoe, who nodded in silent affirmation.

“Let’s go,” he said, setting off after the refugees.

For once, Silvestri did not bother to argue.

11

Talia was drawn into the mad flight through the dim corridors of Gaslight, following in the wake of the refugees as their pursuers continued to close in.  Despite her attempts to stay calm, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of panic rise within her.  The desperation of the refugees was somehow infectious, and as they ran together, she couldn’t help but feel as though she had become one of them.  The claustrophobic
corridors of Gaslight also exacerbated her unease, making her feel as though she were a rat in a drainpipe, quickly running out of latitude as the exterminators inexorably drove her toward a dead end.

Gasping in a lungful of air, she tried to regain control of her emotions.  Beside her, Silvestri seemed to be taking everything in his stride, his expression calm and calculating as he assessed the situation.  Duran and Zoe appeared to be more irritated than anything, as if this were an inconvenience rather than any kind of real threat.

These were hardened warriors, she figured, people who had seen their way through many conflicts.  They knew how to handle themselves.  She was in good hands.

This was simply another hurdle they had to cross on their way to Sunspire.

Duran suddenly slowed his pace, then waved at Silvestri.  “This way,” he said, pointing to an adjoining corridor.  “We can get to the lower levels through here.”

Talia changed course as Duran had suggested, but as they neared the corridor she noticed that the smoke was thicker t
here, drifting outward in dark clumps.  A few moments later, she saw why – a short way along, the corridor ended in a wall of orange flame.

“Scratch that,” Roman said.

“Dammit,” Duran said.  He glanced at Zoe.  “Next option?”

She waved helplessly at the retreating form of the refugees.  “After them.  It’s the only way.  If we can get down to the next level, it should open up a bit.”