CHAPTER 34
The close confines of the tunnel
favor the quick. l dodge a jab and wind to deliver a
stinging blow to his right arm. I know from experience, he’ll feel
numb from the shoulder down for at least an hour.
These McCulloughs
aren’t as big as Gunnar lugs, but they’re faster by comparison, and
desperation lends them strength. They know if they don’t kill us,
they don’t leave here alive. No prisoners, no exceptions.
“I’m gonna break your
neck, bitch.” His breath reeks from two paces away. They must’ve
been down here a long time. “And then I’ll do your crippled
friend.”
“You’ll need two good
hands for that.” I toss the shockstick between my hands,
distracting him from Dina. The weapon hums with the motion,
providing a bass beat for the symphony of grunts and
groans.
He lunges at me,
probably trying to work a lock. I whirl away, never taking my eyes
off him, but he manages to sink a fist into my side. The breath
wheezes out of me. I take a moment to be grateful he didn’t stress
any of my bones, and then he bull-rushes, slams me into the wall.
Pain sparks down my spine. I’m slower than I used to be, and he’s
like a mad beast.
In retaliation, I
drive all my weight onto his foot. When he winces, I go for his
eyes. There’s a soft squish, and he screams like men shouldn’t, all
upper register and pure anguish. I shudder, but don’t hesitate to
follow up with a shockstick upside his head. Then he falls, a dull,
heavy sound.
Dina holds her fire,
too risky now that our bodies are between her and the enemy. I’m
glad she doesn’t want to rearrange our molecules. Shaking, I wipe
my fingers on my pants. I can smell the blood, a sweet, coppery
tang.
If I can, the Teras can. I try to strangle the
thought, but it takes root like a poisonous vine.
“Thanks,” Dina
mutters. “You know when I get off this thing, I’m gonna repay you
for that.”
I don’t comment,
though I hope she’ll regain full use of her leg. Doc set her up
with an immuno-implant to keep her from rejecting the new limb. He
also prescribed a strict regimen of exercises. She’s limped a step
or two on her own, but the days when she stomps around like she
used to are a long way off.
The other three fight
with a grace that calls to mind a brutal piece of choreography. I’m
afraid I’d just get in the way, so I continue to guard Dina while
nursing my sore back. Once all the McCulloughs hit the ground, Jael
kneels and cuts their throats with a murderous efficiency that
makes me look away. His pale eyes glitter in the torch-tube’s
citrine glow.
“I don’t want them on
our backtrail,” he says briefly.
“Noted.” I maneuver
past the bodies.
Stepping over sends a
shock all the way down my legs. I wonder if I’ve dislocated
something. It occurs to me that, thus far, my role as ambassador
hasn’t been as cushy as one might expect.
Dina whirs forward on
her sled, and Vel takes point again. He glances back long enough to
ask, “Everyone all right?”
“Couldn’t be better.”
Yes, I exaggerate.
“Fine,” Hit answers
with a smile. “But the smell is nasty. Let’s get on.”
Nobody else seems to
notice that a long slash on Jael’s arm has now closed itself up.
His blood-soaked clothing offers camouflage as well. With
everything happening at once and the uncertain light, it’s easy to
miss, or to think you were mistaken. I know better.
My bodyguard falls in
behind me, serving as rear guard. “Thanks,” he murmurs, low. “Most
of this crew doesn’t know anything about me, and I’d like to keep
it that way.”
I shrug. “We all have
shit we’d rather didn’t come to light. In your case, though, Jael,
you didn’t do anything. You didn’t ask for
any of this.”
“That hasn’t stopped
people trying to kill me just to see how long it’ll take for me to
die,” he returns. “And let’s not even get started with the
zealots.”
“Fair
enough.”
I push down the raw
grief clawing at me, trying to compartmentalize. At this moment I
need another Jax, one who’s tough and capable, but she won’t
manifest. I can’t banish this loss as I have so many others. March
got to me the way nobody ever has, burrowed beneath my skin in a
way that I don’t think I’ll ever get over
him. And I’ve lost enough people to know.
Glenna, my best
friend from the academy, burned out faster than most. She was
twenty-three when she died. I said some empty words at her service,
took some mental-health days, and drank myself stupid in some
scroungy spaceport bar. And I haven’t thought about her in ten
turns. Odd that her memory would surface here, now.
I shake off the
melancholy, noticing that the tunnels seem to be sloping up. At
first I’m not sure because it’s subtle, but as we go along, I
decide the bounty hunter’s leading us in the right direction. The
new pilot sticks close to Vel, shadowing him as he guides us around
corners. His handheld feeds him data he doesn’t bother sharing. We
only need to know about bad news coming at us.
So much stone. The
ceilings are barely tall enough for Hit to pass without stooping.
She’s easily as tall as Jael. I draw my fingers along the walls as
we move, listening for the telltale sound of wings.
Instead I feel a gust
of air, which shouldn’t exist down here. A draft can mean only one
thing. I pause, spin, and then tilt my head back.
In the darkness I can
barely make out a ragged hole above our heads. The broken stone
doesn’t look as though the Gunnars included this in their original
construction either. Dread crawls over me like maggots from an old
corpse.
“Shit.”
My worst fear,
realized.
Everyone glances back
at Jael and me. Since he’s right beside me, he catches on first.
The merc tips his head back, and asks, “How close are we to the
surface?”
Vel taps on his
handheld. “In a direct vertical line, or as the tunnels
run?”
In running a hand
through his hair, Jael reveals his impatience with Vel’s precision.
“As the tunnels run, unless you can take us straight up this
shaft.”
Even assuming her
sled had that much lift, Dina couldn’t clear the opening, so I take
that for a rhetorical question. I can’t imagine how she feels, if
she’s put the pieces together. These monsters I’m so scared of,
they ate part of her. I don’t know how she
isn’t one giant ball of terror.
Hit taps a booted
foot gently, as if she thinks we’re wasting time with all this
jawing. Maybe she has a point. The longer we stand around down
here, the more chance they’ll find us.
“Nearly two
kilometers,” the bounty hunter answers at last. “But it winds
around, so it will take twice as long as a straight hike.”
“We have to assume
the tunnels ahead are infested,” Dina says flatly. “Vel, can you
get a message back to camp? They need to know the bunker’s not as
safe as they thought. With the wounded, the Teras will find them sooner or later.”
My imagination
supplies the details. Death exploding into an unsuspecting camp
with claws and fangs. Rending, devouring—I have to shut down the
images; they come too quick and violent for me to bear. If they get
to Keri, Lex, and . . .
March.
Then the McCulloughs
win. And I lose everything.
“I can try.” Vel
punches keys, shifting this way and that.
“Try under here.” I
step back, making room beneath the hole in the ceiling.
Maybe that will be
enough. If he can’t, we’ll have to go back. Make our last stand
with them. The others watch him with varying degrees of tension.
I’m not alone in how badly I want off this desolate rock.
“Done,” he says,
after an interminable moment. “Dr. Solaith should see the warning
soon. I hope it gives them time to prepare.”
We all heave a
collective sigh. Part of me feels it isn’t enough. I want to turn
and run back down the dark stone passage toward March. It will
drive me nuts, not knowing what happens here after we go.
I ache.
Only the fact that he
made his choice prevents me from doing just that. Well, that and my
secret, shameful fear of the dark. But March made it clear we’re on
diverging paths, and only time will tell whether that’s always
going to be the case. I don’t have enough faith left in me to
believe, but I curl my hand into a fist, fingering the cheap ring
he gave me.
Ahead of us lies
probable death and dismemberment. Behind us lies an encampment of
weary, beleaguered clansmen with a war to fight. Talk about a rock
and a hard place.
Two kilometers
between us and daylight. I wonder if the dead we left behind will
draw them, all hunger and keening sonic rage. Fighting Teras
underground sounds like suicide. Fuck that. If I meant to take that
route, I’d have chosen an easy death. Made my appointment with a
Psych, and then visited a clean, safe Eutha-booth.
I sigh. “So what the
hell do we do now?”
Hit’s teeth shine in
the dark. “We kill the muthafuckers, one and all.”
Easier said than
done.
