Exit Alpha (34 page)

‘You’re a work of art,’ Cain said. ‘I take care of you and . . .’

‘You needed our manpower.’

‘I kept you alive.’

‘And trusted me. Mistake.’

‘Now you’ve killed noncombatants.’

‘No. Bell did that.’

Cain blinked to try and clear his vision. ‘You can’t hide shooting civilians, Raul. Too much evidence. Too many witnesses.’ He tried to sit again and pain stabbed up his spine through his head.

‘Ignore him,’ Mullins said. ‘Bastard’s past it.’ The big soldier sat next to Raul, probing his swollen grey foot but the skin wasn’t moving on the bone. ‘Jeez, this looks . . . There’s no feeling.’ He peered at huge blisters on his right hand. The hand itself was now swelling. He pulled out his sheath knife, thought better of it.

DO NOT BURST BLISTERS.

‘You’ll feel that hand soon,’ Cain said, ‘and it’ll just about kill you.’

‘Shit, I’m rooted,’ Mullins said. ‘I want compensation, Raul.’

The other looked at him with contempt. ‘You were warned it was going to be dangerous.’

‘But I didn’t sign on to spend days in a blizzard. Not my idea of fun.’

‘You wanted
fun
?’ The other’s arch look.

‘Got it in one.’ He used his good hand to pour scotch into tumblers.

Raul recapped his ointment. ‘I’ll give you fun.’

‘You’d bloody better.’

Eve plonked plates on the table. A casserole with whipped potato, peas. ‘We’ve kept enough for the others on the stove.’ She had a bruise on the side of her face as if she’d been hit. She looked down at Cain, frightened to see him tied up. ‘He has to eat, too.’

A scraping outside. The insulated door opened on what must have been a tiny slush-excluding cold porch. Against the glare, someone pushed back his hood and knocked frost off his clothes. The outer door shut, the inner door slid back. Bell came through, nose and cheeks scabbed. ‘Food. Warmth. Wonderful.’ He put his M–4 on the table with the others, dropped his balaclava, woollen gloves and goggles on a rack, shucked off his open parka, unzipped his ventiles, shoved them in with his other gear.

Raul handed him a tumbler of spirit.

Bell half-drained it, flopped on a bench.

Raul looked around. ‘Joining us, ladies?’

The morose Eve and Nina came forward and sat.

Raul poured for them. ‘To rescue.’ He raised his glass. ‘And to vibrant, unpredictable life.’

They swigged and attacked the food.

Bell ate, looking thoughtful, then asked Raul, ‘So when we get to the other train, what then? If we grease the second crew we can’t operate these rigs.’

‘We’ve hours to ponder that.’

Eve moaned, ‘You murdered those innocent men. You’ll get life.’

Raul laughed. ‘Odd that if you kill someone they give you life. But they don’t if you have money and influence. The law’s the lapdog of the rich.’

‘You don’t realise who he is,’ Bell added. ‘You don’t know how many thousands of people would protect him. You don’t know how many millions we have to fight with. He has governments in his pocket, friends in high places everywhere. No one can touch Gustave.’

‘If he’s got all that loot, he owes me compensation.’ Mullins lurched up, went to the console, checked the heading on the compass. ‘Driver’s still being a good boy.’

‘Good,’ Raul said. ‘And Nina’s being a good girl, too. Aren’t you, you living horror?’ He glared at Nina who kept rebellious eyes on her plate. ‘You’re not in control of it, are you? It just uses you when you get upset. But it’s nothing you can rely on.’ He beckoned Mullins back. ‘Come and have another drink.’

Cain recalled the manual — DO NOT GIVE ALCOHOL — happy to see the bastards screw themselves.

‘So what about Karen?’ Bell asked too loudly, whisky deadening his brain.

Raul piled food neatly on his fork, composing his words. ‘Have you considered direct destruction of body tissue without immediate homicidal intent?’

Bell absorbed that. ‘I have. For some time.’

‘What’s
your
wish, my loyal friend?’

‘To anticipate your needs. To do your will.’

‘Did I wish you to shoot three men?’

Bell protested. ‘I shot them to save you.’

‘But did I tell you to kill them?’

‘No. But you . . .’

‘And have I told you to torture and kill Karen?’

‘N-not directly.’

‘So everything’s your interpretation. Now what if I blame this whole demeaning excursion on you?’

‘Then I’m ready to take the blame.’

‘Excellent.’ Raul nodded at him. ‘You’ve killed three men. There are two EXIT agents here that could kill you. All of us are damaged — are going to lose fingers, toes, feet. Are we ready for life with a tin nose, mechanical foot, one hand? How do we live in the face of that? Are we prepared to take what comes?’

‘Fuck no. Hell.’ Mullins poured himself another slug. ‘I want compensation.’

‘So what do I do?’ Bell pleaded. ‘You know what’s best.’

‘You’re a typical follower, Peter — always want to be told what to do. There’s great security in that. And stupidity.’ Raul smiled at him, aware Bell longed to bask in his approval. ‘I thought I’d just suggested that you do what you think. That way, you create your life as you decide.’

‘Touch Hunt,’ Cain said, ‘and you’ll create your death.’

Mullins half-lifted his M–4, glanced at Raul. ‘Junk him?’

Eve yelled, ‘No!’

‘You’re a dangerous EXIT person, Cain,’ Raul said, ‘whom we can kill in self-protection.’

‘Hardly logical when I’m trussed like a chook.’

‘I agree there’s an element of control without any notion of trust or consent. Just consider it as conflict resolution.’ He chuckled. ‘You’ve gone soft, my friend.’

‘In the head,’ Mullins jeered.

‘You’re a burnt-out case.’ Raul was enjoying this. ‘A worn-out warhorse ready to be butchered.’

‘Exactly, exactly.’ Bell gazed adoringly at Raul, eager for attention. ‘And what animal am I?’

‘A dog. Stupidly faithful.’

Bell swallowed his discomfort.

Mullins stared from one to the other, not sure what was going on or how to join in the conversation. ‘So what’s my animal then?’

Raul laughed. ‘A bull. You want fighting. Food. Sex.’

‘I wanna stuffa chicken.’ He put a cumbersome arm around Nina.

Nina jerked back, punched him. ‘Fuck off, mullet.’

He guffawed.

‘And that would be — compensation?’ Raul asked Mullins.

‘You mean the chick? What you getting at?’

‘Are you bull enough to . . .’

‘. . . snatch some snatch? That what you’re saying? What if . . .’

‘. . . strange things start happening? Just drug her. Or knock her out. And they’ll stop.’

‘You’re telling me to . . .’

Raul’s insinuating smile. ‘This hellish place has damaged our bodies — could kill us. Aren’t we entitled to some raw enjoyment? I suggest you drink up, relax, then . . .’

Mullins half-grinned, drained his glass and wiped his mouth.

Raul stood, beamed at them all. ‘Well, that was better than kero fumes and pemmican. Now I’m going to see the pope.’ He reached for his boots, got his outside clothes from the rack. ‘I might even discuss with him whether existence is an illusion. And I’ll take him some food.’

Eve got up and went to the alcove. ‘I’ve got something to put it in.’

‘I’m sure you have, dear.’ Raul appraised her rear. ‘Now I see why gentlemen rise when a woman gets up from the table.’

The sloshed Mullins guffawed but Bell refused to interpret it as lewd.

Raul spread his arms. ‘People are afraid to have fun. To live. They dream about it — never do it.’ He kitted up, turned back to his troops. ‘You have life’s playground equipment on this very train.’ His eyes rested on Eve, then Nina. Then he turned to Bell. ‘And you have a certain female person who needs severe and protracted discipline.’ He picked up his gun. ‘So while I’m away — consider what I’ve said to you.’

‘So I can rub Cain?’ Mullins asked through a mouthful.

‘Did I tell you to kill him? Or did I just point out what life owes him?’

The oaf’s heavy frown showed he wasn’t sure what he’d heard.

The now terrified Eve came back with plastic containers, forks and napkins in a bag. Raul looped the handles over the thumb of his overmitt and smiled. ‘Pancakes and honey for afternoon tea?’

Bell got up to open the inner door for him.

‘I just step off and on again?’

‘Yes. There are steps on the ends of both sleds and it’s only walking pace. When you want to come back, just jog until you catch up to us. You only have to go the length of the linkage.’

‘Right. Have fun.’

Cain, immobilised, was starting to freeze. And as Bell let Raul out, the cold air from the small porch chilled him more. But not as much as the situation. Raul, just using words, had set a time bomb.

Bell slid the inner door closed again, swayed unsteadily, then retrieved his dropped windproofs.

‘Going out?’ Mullins slurred.

‘Got something to take care of in the workshop.’

An unpleasant grin from Mullins. ‘Need help?’

‘No. You’ve got to stay here — keep an eye on things and the compass. Or these two’ll untie him.’ He collected his M–4 and left.

Cain thought, just one man and one gun.

But how to get free?

Nina helped her shaking mother clear the table, hoping to get away from Mullins who sat finishing another glass. Eve glanced apprehensively at Cain, then the pair of them retreated behind the alcove to clear up.

Mullins drunkenly grinned at Cain, hand on his weapon. ‘Fun time.’ He grabbed the M–4, removed the four-column magazine and ejected the chambered round. He stuffed the round back in the mag, folded the gun-butt, then lurched up, almost knocking over the bench. He limped to the storage racks, stood on the bottom shelf and put the weapon and mag near the back of the top rack. He returned to the table, picked up his commando knife — a long double-edged blade — and limped into the alcove.

A scream from Nina. He emerged dragging her by the arm.

Eve followed him, shrieking, but he menaced her with the knife. ‘Stay behind there. If I see you, I’ll stick you.’

She looked at Cain, terrified.

He said, ‘Do what he says.’

‘He’s going to rape her.’

‘Do what he says or he’ll kill you both.’

Beside the huge form of the emotional illiterate, the girl’s compact body seemed a child’s. Mullins hurled her to the floor, hauled her along the rough matting by one arm, dropped beside her and licked his raw lips. Half smiling, he ran the knife along her cheek. ‘Payback.’

The girl now lay on her back, eyes bulging. ‘Oh Jesus. Mum? Oh Jesus.’

‘Do what he says, baby.’ Eve’s terrified voice. ‘Just . . . do what he says.’

Mullins said, ‘All
right
!’

He forgot his damaged hand and foot, vanished into his task, dragging the pile suit off the girl starting on the inner layers, eager to see her naked, his pants bulging. Cain tugged at his bonds, could do nothing. But if the girl could summon her gremlins . . .

When Mullins had her stripped he stared at her, stunned. She was more perfect than a retouched centrefold. Small uptilted breasts, a gymnast’s long slim thighs, the miracle of a developing girl combined with the freshness of a child. He murmured, ‘What a honey. You want fingers? Then don’t you fucking move.’

He worked himself free of the thermal underwear until it was around his ankles, exposing big fair-haired legs. He searched around for lubrication, saw nothing, spat on himself, kicked her legs wide.

Cain’s view of it was a wriggling hairy arse and the purple face of Nina — holding her breath.

It didn’t take long.

The racks began to shake. Behind him, a logbook flew off the console. Then Eve screamed as pots and plates shot out of the alcove to smash against the side of the van. The end of one of the benches tilted into the air, then the entire thing rose slowly toward the roof.

Mullins looked up, dumbfounded, as the metal bench fell on his arm. Nina, shrieking, hauled herself up, clawed at his face. One of her fingers must have caught his eye.

He bellowed in pain and backed off.

Then Eve was around the partition with a skillet clasped in both hands, ready to smash in the man’s head. He shoved her off, rose on one knee and thrust the knife up deep into her chest. She belched, staggered, and the iron pan fell from her hands only to float across the room. It smashed into the transceiver, wrecking the DC voltmeter, then sailed back and — in mid flight — disappeared.

In the bedlam, Mullins’s yell of fear and rage. He twisted, half-blinded, looking for the girl.

Eve staggered two steps toward Cain, as if she felt he could still help her, glazed eyes staring at him with the astonishment he’d seen on so many dying faces, the sudden amazement at coming to the end.