Sunspire (The Reach, Book 4) (9 page)

BOOK: Sunspire (The Reach, Book 4)
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There was a loud noise behind them, that of a door being thrown open, and the discussion promptly ended.

“Get going,” Silvestri said, and the others did as he suggested.  They caught the stragglers of the refugee group quickly, a cluster of half a dozen people that included an elderly man who had doubled over, and a woman carrying an auburn-haired girl.  Zoe hooked a hand under the man’s elbow and helped him to straighten, then aided him in moving forward.   Talia was surprised to see Duran lift the girl from the woman’s arms, hoisting her onto his shoulder.  The woman croaked a few words of thanks in between a bout of coughing.

“So you’re not a heartless bastard after all,” Talia remarked to him.

Duran turned to her, surprised.  “What?”

“You don’t just hunt people down for sport,” she said.  “I was beginning to wonder if that was all you had in you.”

He scowled.  “Is that what you think of me?”

“What else
would
I think?”

Duran’s frown deepened.  At that moment there was loud gunfire from the direction in which they had been running.  Beyond the end of the corridor, Talia saw several of the refugees fall in a heap as bullets riddled their bodies.  One of them, a man who had been hit in the leg, crawled back toward the safety of the corridor, a pain
ed expression on his face.

“Get back!” he called as one of his companions reached out to drag him out of the line of fire.  There was another burst of gunfire, and the man was hit again.  This time he
slumped to the ground, dead.

The refugees huddled together, looking around frantically for where to go next.  Silvestri pushed through the pack and crept toward the edge of the wall as he attempted to get a view of what was out there.  One of the refugees began to move out toward the killing zone again, perhaps to retrieve one of his fallen companions, but Duran gripped him by the collar and turned him around.

“Stay where you are,” he instructed the refugees.  They stared at him, wide-eyed and trembling as they contracted into a tight bunch.  “You walk out there and you’re as good as dead.”

“But there’s nowhere else to go,” one of them wailed, pointing.

Talia turned and saw shadows at the far end of the corridor.  Their pursuers were only moments away from reaching them.

“Silvestri,” Talia called urgently.  “We need a plan.  Right now!”

Silvestri paused at the end of the corridor for a moment longer, his face tilted so that he could see what was out there.  Then he turned back to the others.

“We should go back,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s an option,” Talia said.

“Who’s out there?” Duran said.

Silvestri shook his head.  “Might be the militia, or someone else.  I can’t tell.  They’re behind a blockade.”

“Whoever they are, they aren’t friendly,” Zoe said.  “That’s all that we need to know.”

“Can we get past them somehow?” Talia said.

“Not with them dug in like that, and not with the numbers we have.”

“What about there?” Duran said, pointing.  Talia looked and saw another corridor past where the refugees had been gunned down
, across the other side of the concourse.

“Where does it lead?” Silvestri said.

“Away from here,” Duran said.  His head whipped around in the direction from which they’d just come.  “Away from
them
.”

At the end of the corridor, Talia could see a group of silhouettes appearing through the smoke. 
From here, she could make out very few specific details, apart from the fact that they were wearing bulky armour and bore glowing red emblems on their chests.

She felt a chill down her spine.

“Redmen,” she breathed.

The others turned as one to watch, their faces a mixture of fear, loathing, and outright dread.  They seemed to come to the same conclusion as Talia – that they had been trapped with nowhere left to go, and nowhere to find cover.  They were about to be crushed between two opposing forces, caught in the crossfire of a conflict of which they desired no part.

Zoe’s face hardened.  “Screw this,” she muttered, walking toward the place at the end of the corridor that Silvestri had just vacated.  “Get ready,” she called over her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Duran said.

“Laying down suppressing fire,” she said.  “And when I do, you guys run like hell to the next corridor.”

“What about you?” Duran said.

“I’ll make it.”

“Listen,” Duran said, reaching for her shoulder, but she slapped his hand away.

“Goddammit, Alec, there’s no time for this!  Just fucking go!”

With that, she swung out into the corridor and fired off a burst from her assault rifle, then another.  Silvestri reacted first, scrambling past her and then turning to strafe the militia as he moved toward the next corridor, unleashing bursts from his own rifle as he went.  Talia stood rooted to the spot, the fear of stepping into a hail of bullets making her limbs feel like lead.  Those around her seemed to be similarly affected, remaining where they were, paralysed by fear.

“Go!” Duran roared, giving her a shove.  She stumbled, then managed to regather her wits, finding her stride as she moved past Zoe.  As she entered the killzone, she saw the flash of rifles from the gloomy recesses of the barricades, and waited to feel the searing pain of ballistics tearing through her flesh at any moment.  Peripherally, she was aware that Silvestri had reached the far corridor and had assumed a position at its edge, laying down more suppressing fire.  Each step toward him seemed to take
forever, the mad dash between corridors lasting minutes instead of seconds as bullets whizzed around her.

Then she was through, passing Silvestri into the relative safety of the next corridor.  She turned to see refugees and her companions alike dashing madly across the space as she had done, and two of the refugees were hit and went down.  As Duran reached Silvestri, he too pulled out his handgun and began to open fire on the barricades.  As the last of the refugees crossed, Talia turned to see Zoe sprinting across the gap, her head down as she barrelled toward them.  Duran shouted something above the din, and Zoe stumbled.  For a split second, Talia feared the worst, but Zoe regained her balance and covered the intervening distance a few moments later.

“That’s everyone!” Duran called out, tapping Silvestri on the shoulder.  The two of them peeled back and retreated into the corridor.  Across the way, Talia could see the Redmen had arrived at the killzone, and were now readying themselves for an assault.

Duran holstered his handgun again.  “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he growled, and then they were running once again.

 

 

12

They continued blindly onward as the smoke thickened, not really knowing where it was they were headed, only wishing to put more distance between themselves and the war zone from which they’d narrowly escaped.  Further on they found yet more refugees, commoners who were lost and trying to find a way to exit the Reach, and the number in their group swelled.  Caught up in the tide of the desperate and forgotten masses of the Reach, Talia’s notion that she had become one with them only intensified; no longer in control of her own destiny, she was now simply being swept along with the current, bound to wash up wherever it might take her.

They descended a stairwell, then another, and Talia lost all sense of direction.  She did not even know which level they had reached.  Duran, at least, seemed to have some idea about what he was doing.  He remained at the head of the pack, leading them forward through the twists and turns of Gaslight, and if he harboured any doubts about where he was going, he kept them to himself.  At each juncture he would bring them to a halt, allowing time to check what lay beyond, effectively minimising the chance of another ambush.

They encountered several bands of armed men roaming the corridors, but these moved on at the sight of the assault rifles in the possession of Zoe and Silvestri.

Some time later they began to trudge through a dark and narrow tunnel, and Talia saw bright lights at the far end.  Weary and sore all over, she started at the sudden sound of Duran’s voice in the close confines.

“We’re here,” he said.  “This is Level Ninety-Six.  Eastern end.”

“You’re sure about that?” Silvestri said.

“Yeah.  Been here plenty of times before.  If our friend in Lux was telling the truth, this is where we’ll find help.”

They continued along the tunnel, and Talia prepared herself for the worst.  After all, not much had gone right for them of late.  She, Roman and the others had seemingly reeled from one disaster to the next, so it would come to her as no surprise should they alight from this tunnel to find nothing at all, or worse yet, a trap.

She heard voices out there, and a strange creaking noise.  A grunt, then laughter.

“Stay on your toes,” Silvestri cautioned quietly.

Zoe moved to take point, her assault rifle at the ready.  The refugees clustered in behind them again, exchanging anxious whispers.  Talia drew Roman close and produced her .22, although she wasn’t sure if it was going to be of any use.

Zoe stopped suddenly and held up her hand, indicating that the others should do the same.  A moment later, a woman’s voice reverberated through a speaker in the tunnel.


If you’re seeking a fight, turn around.  You’ll only find death this way.”

“And if we’re not?” Zoe called.

“Then you may
come forward.  Don’t be afraid.”

Zoe glanced back at Duran and Silvestri, a quizzical expression on her face.  Duran shrugged.

“Who are you?” Silvestri called out.

“Come and see for yourself.”

The three of them exchanged another glance, and then Zoe seemed to reach a decision.  She started forward and moved confidently toward the end of the tunnel, then stepped out into the light.

Duran followed, and then Talia and the others fell in behind.

As Talia stepped out of the tunnel she found the source of the illumination – a series of light towers, such as those used in construction, had been arranged before the elevators, generators humming at their bases.  A cluster of people were milling around the space, assembling great lengths of rope as well as pulley systems, and not far away a pot was boiling above a fire.

Talia could smell something cooking through the stink of smoke that permeated Gaslight, and she was suddenly reminded of how hungry she was.

“You won’t need those,” a woman in a khaki shirt said from nearby, pointing at their weapons as she lowered a radio to her belt
.  Talia recognised her voice from the speaker in the tunnel.  “Not
if you come in peace, like you said.”

“Who are you?” Zoe said.

“My name is Olivia.  I’m the one who’s organising the evacuation in these parts.”  She began to walk toward them.  “
Like I said, i
f your purpose here is peaceful, then you’re welcome to stay.  If not, I will have to ask you to leave.”  She gestured to one end of the elevator bays, then the other, where snipers wer
e positioned in makeshift crow’s
nests.  “And please don’t try anything stupid, for your own sake.”

“We’re not here to cause trouble,” Silvestri assured her.  “There are
other refugees here with us.”

“So I see,” Olivia said, running an eye over the crowd.  “
You’re all part of the same group, then?”

“Not exactly,” Silvestri admitted.  “We just happened to be in the same place at the same time.”

“Fair enough.”

“What is it you’re doing here?” Duran said.

Olivia gestured to the open elevator shafts behind her.  “We’ve set up winches that go all the way down to the lower levels of the Reach.  If you’re looking to get out, this might be your best bet.”

“So how much?” Zoe said.

Olivia raised an eyebrow.  “How much
what?

“How much do we need to pay to use your contraption?”

Olivia gave her a wry smile.  “Honey, we’re not in this for the creds.  As long as you’re prepa
red to pitch in until it’s your turn to take the drop, you’re welcome to catch a ride for free.”

Silvestri turned back to the other
refugees.  “Is this what you want?  To get out of the Reach?”

There were scattered nods in return, and one of the men stepped forward.

“We sure as hell ain’t going back that way,” he said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

Olivia turned to a colleague over by the elevators.  “Tom, get these people processed and ready.  Check the skill
sets and put them to use if you can.”

The man nodded.  “Right away, boss.”  He gestured to the group.  “This way, please.”

As they began to walk forward, Talia stopped before Olivia.  “So
what’s the deal
?” she asked the woman in khaki.  “Were you with the Enforcers or something?”

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