“Always thought you looked familiar. Are you my son?”
With an insane snarl. Anders threw away the medical probe and drew a dagger from his belt when the door behind him opened unexpectedly.
“I told you not to disturb me!” Anders screamed.
“Too bad,” Ryan said clearly.
His face distorting into a rictus of shock, the lieutenant turned, fumbling for his blaster, and a flurry of quarrels slammed into his chest. The impaled sec man grappled with empty air and slumped onto the brazier, his clothes instantly igniting. Burbling screams, the man tumbled to the floor, the gushing blood from his wounds extinguishing the burning uniform.
Dean bolted shut the door, as J.B. removed the chains. Krysty and Mildred eased Shard to the floor.
Doc started to look for anything to serve as bandages.
In no great hurry, Ryan walked over and shot the twitching officer once in the head with a silenced 9 mm round.
“Not real…” Shard breathed. “You’re not here….”
Mildred gave him a sip from her canteen. “We’re real enough,” she said softly, “and you’re coming with us.”
“Freedom,” Jak stated, massaging the chafed wrists. The skin was purple and cold, not a good indication, but it started responding to the ministrations.
“Dying…”
“Oh, you’re beaten badly,” Mildred said, peeling back the bloody clothing to examine the wounds. Doc handed her a relatively clean towel, already torn into strips, and she began to bind the worst of the cuts. “But you aren’t going to die. That fellow must have been afraid to go too far and kill you before he got the information.”
“Information you didn’t have,” Ryan said. “Why’d you do it?”
The battered lips formed a smile. “Buy you a chance…”
“Bought yourself more than that,” Ryan announced. “After we ace the heirs, you got a seat in Leviathan for as long as you want.”
A ragged cough shook the man, flecks of blood staining his lips. “Too weak…never make it…”
“I’ll carry you,” Doc said, dropping his backpack of supplies. He tucked his swordstick into the bundle, making sure it was secure.
Done with the bandaging, Mildred waved him on. Easing his arms under the man., Doc lifted Shard seemingly without effort. “Come, sir, this way to the egress.”
“No!” Shard whispered, reaching out a trembling hand. “Don’t go to the courtyard! Canvas tent…trap. It’s not there….”
“We know,” Ryan said, placing the dead sec man’s revolver into Shard’s grip. “Leviathan is in the armory.”
He held the weapon tightly, trembling as if it weighed more than the whole world. “No, the tower.”
“What do you mean?” –
“It’s in…the tower.”
“Which tower? Not Eugene’s tower?” Krysty asked, hoping she heard that wrong.
A weak nod.
“Are you sure?” Mildred asked, touching his forehead to see if the man was delirious with fever.
“No mistake?”
Another nod. “Heard them talking. Said it was last place you would look.”
“They got that right!”
“Gaia, it’s on the other side of the ville!” Krysty cursed, her hair curling wildly. “Where the riots are.
Ryan picked up Doc’s pack of supplies. “Then we better get moving. Time is against us now.”
“What about our deal to kill the heirs?” Dean asked. “We’re so close to their room!”
Starting for the door, his father said, “Deal’s off. The bastard rebels lied to us about having control of Leviathan. They can go kill the heirs themselves. It’s not our problem anymore. We’re going to get our vehicle and leave this rad-blasted pit.”
“Not good,” J.B. said, shifting his backpack of homemade explosives. “This isn’t good.”
“Nothing’s ever…good,” Shard remarked. “Only different levels of shitty.”
Chapter Eighteen
His longblaster slung over a shoulder, barrel down to protect the insides from the dew, a lone sentry stood trembling slightly in the cold. His brick kiosk was alongside the main road leading to Novaville, and the thick walls helped cut the wind some, but not much. He knew there used to be glass in the windows, but a wad of C-4 removed it all, plus the sec man inside, and only the sentry had been replaced. It was too difficult to make glass these days, was what the quartermaster said. But the sentry believed the lack of glass served the dual purpose of keeping him cold, and thus more alert, and saved supplies. Why put in expensive glass that would only be blown out again in the next attack? The cheap bastards. He heard somewhere that glass deflected bullets, so it would actually be helping to protect the man who protected the ville. This far away, the high perimeter walls of the yule were only visible during the day, and then only as a thin line of black cutting across barren fields and the smooth black macadam of the main road. A misnomer if ever there was one, because this was it for roads. It was all they needed, and more than they wanted.