Alien Devices: Tesla joins crew to prevent alien zombie apocalypse (The Secret War Book 2) (7 page)

Chapter 9

A
bigail stretched her legs when she exited
the steam car.
She felt an odd mixture of exhausted and exhilarated, yet
strangely calm. The others were milling about; Will and Madame Chang were
having a low-voiced conversation that was growing very heated. It didn't seem
to matter; soon they would find her father.

Abigail searched the darkness around them but could not make
out much detail. The car was stopped on what could generously be called a road,
if a cleared track of dirt could be called that. All around them were shadowy
small boxes that were smashed up next to each other. An infrequent lantern
outside a hovel did not so much banish the darkness as call attention to it.
The odors of too many people too close together, with inadequate sanitation,
hung over everything like a sly and malicious fog. In the distance, the city
walls loomed like a black cliff, the faint rainbow shimmer of the Shield rising
from it like a waterfall into the sky.   

“Where are we?” She whispered to Guang, instinctively not
wishing to arouse the sea of humanity around them

“This part of the city is called 'Peng-yeuon.” Guang explained.
He frowned. “It does not translate well in English. Poor people built homes out
of scraps of wood here.”

“Shanty town,” Saira supplied coming up to them on Abigail's
right. Saira was also speaking in a low voice, as if not to awaken the mass of
humanity.

“My God,” Abigail murmured. She had seen the slums of London,
but this was an overwhelmingly greater order of magnitude than the Cheapside
District, which was the worst she had seen until now. “How many people are
there here?”

“No one knows, or cares,” Guang shrugged. “Originally this was
area for war refugees. Now people come here from the country side to be safe
under the Shield. The dwellings are calling 'peng', sometimes two or three
generations live in same peng.”

“There are more crowded places in Bombay,” Saira remarked
off-handedly. “Still, it is one of the last places that the Peelers would come
looking for a British toff,” she said approvingly.

“And you are sure that my father is here?” Abigail asked Guang.
He nodded.

“There are larger 'shanties', as you call them,” he smiled his
thanks at Saira for the word, “that way.” He pointed towards where the dirt
track narrowed, curving out of sight among the hovels. “We cannot take the car
further without arousing commotion. We will have to walk there.” Will and
Bardon had come up to them while Guang was talking.

“Do we know what kind of opposition we're dealing with?” Will
asked, also in a quiet voice.

“There were two men outside on guard when I was here earlier,”
Guang answered. “The shanty is large, but no more than two, maybe three rooms.”
He gave that odd roll of his shoulders that Abigail interpreted as something like
a shrug, “Perhaps six men altogether. Where is Chang?”

“She is staying here,” Will announced, “Sebastian will get the
car turned around so we can leave fast, and otherwise he sits on her.” Guang
puzzled this phrasing out for a moment, and then nodded in understanding.

“Good,” he said briefly. “This way,” he pointed again.

They walked carefully to one side of the 'road' as it curved
around. Apparently, the residents all placed their refuse at the edges of the
track. Occasionally, a lonely dog howled.

Abigail saw a hunched over figure sitting at one of the breaks
in the garbage mounds. Guang motioned for them to stop. The figure stood as
Guang walked forward. They talked for a moment, and then the figure shambled
off into the jumble of shacks. Guang returned to them and spoke quietly.

“There has been no movement in or out of the shanty,” he
reported. “They are there, where the bright lanterns are.”

Abigail looked where Guang pointed; two large paper lanterns
illuminated the front of one of the shacks. She watched as a shadow crossed
before one of them.

“Kind of conspicuous with all that light aren't they?” Will
asked. Guang spat.

“They are arrogant in their belief that no one here would speak
of them out of fear,” he replied. “They are of the same petty gang that
attacked us earlier. They grow too bold.” The scorn in his voice was
unmistakable.

“Are they now?” Will mused, watching the front of the shack. “Hmm,
it's not going to be easy to sneak up on those two out front without they raise
an alarm before we can get inside,” Will said.

“Is there a back way in?” The spy Bardon asked. Guang shook his
head at the question.

“It is not usual,” Guang said. “To approach from the rear,
means going through the maze of dwellings. We would have to be especially careful
not to awake others as that would also raise an alarm.”

“What if we. . .” Bardon continued talking. Abigail stopped
listening, as an idea occurred to her. To be more accurate she remembered an
idea from the Aether-serial 'Liverpool Raiders'. If there was only. . .There!
She spotted an empty bottle and picked it up, trying not to think about where
it had been.

Turning to Saira, she silently outlined her plan with gestures.
The Arms master’s teeth shone in the darkness. She grinned, as she nodded
enthusiastically. Before Abigail could lose her nerve, she interrupted the
bickering between Bardon and Will.

“Saira and I can deal with the two guards out front.” Abigail
hefted the bottle, stating her idea aloud to them.

“Absolutely not,” declared Bardon flatly. Will rubbed his chin.

“That might work,” The Capitan agreed. He looked at Abigail
searchingly. “You sure you can do this?”

“Yes,” Abigail swallowed hard and nodded her head. She wasn't
really sure, but she had to try. Father's face was ever present in her mind.

“We can do it, Cap'n,” Saira vowed.

“If we stand here too long, that will also be noticed,” Guang
warned.

“Alright,” Will said to Abigail and Saira with a nod. “We'll
follow you in.”

~ ~ ~

Liu thought it was stupid for them to keep a guard out
front
. This was not what he had expected when he had joined up with the 186
Blue Society, one of the gangs along the wharves. Violence and killing, yes, But
not freezing in this stinking hole guarding the doings of Foreign Devils.  It
wasn't as if any of the sheep around them would ever be a bother.

But the aide of the small Russian woman named Illiya Petrov was
almost as terrifying as the woman herself. The hardened wharf gangs had
nicknamed the small Russian woman, Illiya Petrov, the 'White Death' after she
had slaughtered their former gang leaders in a river of blood. Liu was a
lieutenant of the 186, he wasn't about to argue with the White Death's aide,
who seemed like a bigger male version of Petrov, ready to kill gruesomely at a
moment’s notice. So, here he stood. They'd followed the same boring routine for
days now. Whoever the Britisher was, Petrov considered him important enough to
keep a guard posted. Liu didn't care why. He figured that it was just more
white foreigner business.

When the White Death had first approached the 186 Blue Society,
she had promised that they would become the most powerful society in Hong Kong
if they would join with her. After watching Petrov gut their old leader on the
meeting house floor, Liu's new boss, Lee Jong, had agreed to join with her.

Liu had to admit that the foreign devil had kept her word.
Before their influence had only extended over a small section of the sea docks.
Now, the influence of the 186 had grown. With gifts of money and new weapons,
it had reached the point where Liu heard they had challenged the might of the
An family itself. The future was looking very bright indeed. The White Death
and her companion were arrogant, all foreigners were. But that could be
tolerated for a time, Liu's boss had allowed. Liu himself didn't care.

Liu turned towards the sound of singing from the dirt track the
locals called a road. Coming into the glow of the lanterns, Liu saw two women
staggering together arm in arm, clearly drunk. As they came closer, Liu could
see that they were both foreign women, one holding a bottle. The white woman
was dressed only in European underwear, the dark one little more than a torn
sheet. Whores he decided to himself. They must have wondered over from another
district. He was amused.

“Je,” he called out to his partner, “Look at this.” He knew
that his partner was as bored as he was.

“Damn,” Je said with a sigh, watching the two come closer. “We
should be so lucky.”

Giggling, the two whores called out to them in some language
that Liu didn't know, smiling all the while. Liu smiled back, not understanding
a word.  The women laughed again. They turned to each other for a moment, then
split up; one came towards Je and the other towards Liu, their expressions
making their intentions clear.

“Hey,” Je leered, “Maybe we are that lucky!” He smiled back at
the white one who was looking at him in the brazen way white women did. A
bottle dangled from one hand, while the other was coyly behind her back. Je
opened his arms for her.

“Do not even think it,” Liu warned Je weakly, “Karkov would have
our balls.” Karkov was the White Death's aide. Still Liu couldn't take his gaze
off the dark one; there was something about her eyes that held him captive. She
came closer to him. Well, Liu thought desperately, maybe a quick one in the
road wouldn't hurt anything. After all, they'd been standing out here forever,
and it was cold. If they were quick, Karkov need not even know. The dark one
shouted something Liu didn't understand. Suddenly he saw, with terror, a large
knife flashed in the woman’s hand. Then he saw nothing at all.

When Abigail heard Saira give the signal, she pulled her weapon
from behind her back. Leaning against the body of the guard leering at her, she
dropped the bottle as she did so. She pushed the electronic pistol into his
stomach and pulled the trigger. There was a muffled crack and the man's face
jerked in surprise, mere inches from her own face. In what seemed to take
forever, his eyes glazed over and his weight came down on her shoulders. There
was the overpowering smell of burnt cloth and pork. Abigail fought back her
nausea as the guard slid off her and on to the ground. Abigail fought her
stomach the whole while. She heard the sounds of running footsteps and then
Will was beside her, gun in hand.

“Good job,” the Captain whispered, “You alright?” She
straightened up, breathing deeply, and nodded wordlessly.

Bardon leapt forward to the shack’s door, where he knelt at the
lock. A flickering glow lit the door, partially shielded by his crouching body

“Damn him,” Will hissed, “I told him to wait! Come on, but stay
behind me.” She followed Will backing up to the door, where Saira and Guang,
with his sword out, were bathed in the flickering light. Looking over Will's
shoulder, Abigail saw there was some sort of fuse burning quickly into the
keyhole of the lock.

Bardon had his finger to his lips to signal silence. She saw
Will's shoulders tighten with tension. Then Will was gesturing at Bardon and
Saira. They both nodded. Will turned to gesture at Abigail to stay back, and
indicated she should follow him when he entered. She nodded her understanding
just as there was a soft pop at the lock.

Bardon hit the door with his shoulder. He followed it in as it
swung open. Will came right behind him, moving to the right, Saira darting in
to the left. There were shouts and a single gunshot from inside.

When Abigail entered, it took a second for her eyes to adjust
to the light coming from the candle lamps on the walls.  She saw two bodies
lying on the floor, dark pools spreading beneath them, a table in the middle of
the room. Will was moving quickly around one side of the table towards a door
at the back of the room. Bardon, brandishing a sword in each hand was racing
around the other side of the table towards it as well. Part of her wondered where
he had gotten the swords.

The back door crashed open, revealing a snarling, broad-chested
man raising a boxy pistol. He fired it, the sound thunderous in the close
room.  Guang spun back from where he had come to stand beside her, hitting the
floor. With a rush of anger, Abigail raised her pistol to shoot the man. Dimly,
she was aware of Will doing the same, while Bardon rushed the man from the
side, his swords whirling faster than Abigail's eyes could follow.

Bardon's blade flashed, removing the man's gun hand. The man
howled like an animal, his other arm darting out like a snake to grab the
startled agent, lifting him off the floor by his suit.  At the same instant,
both Will and Abigail fired their weapons at the barrel-chested man. The brute
staggered against the wall, tossing Bardon like a doll through the air, to land
on the table with a crash. It splintered beneath him. Bardon sprawled there,
stunned. 

The man cradled the stump of his missing hand to him as he
lurched upright again. Screaming, he sprang into the air towards Will who
coolly fired at him again and again. The man slammed into Will, knocking him
over. They both crashed onto the floor on top of Bardon. Saira jackknifed down
over them, both of her blades stabbing the neck of the implacable attacker. His
body thrashed as Saira pushed down on her hilts, trying to sever his neck, and
then he went still. Will pushed him off, raising unsteadily, gun still pointed
at the still figure.

Having seen the violence of the downed beast, Abigail was seized
by a terrible fear. “Father!” she cried out, and dashed into the next room,
pistol at the ready.

The room was as spare as the other, with only a single bed in
one corner with a small candle-lantern above it. In the middle of the room was
a man tied to a chair. His head and face were covered by a hood. Muffled cries
came from under the cloth as the man struggled to free himself from his bonds.