Skybreach (The Reach #3) (34 page)

“Like hell.”

“You want to believe I’m the bad guy,” Knile said.  “You want to believe I’m the root of all evil, so you can feel vindicated when you pull that trigger.  So you can pretend this isn’t just some personal vendetta borne out of your inability to bring me to justice.”

Duran kept the .38 pointed at Knile
’s face.  “You can’t back-pedal out of this.  Not with me.”

“I fucked up, okay?” Knile roared with sudden vehemence.  “Three years ago, I fucked up.  I was careless and people got hurt, but that was never my intention.  I only wanted what everyone else wanted – to get the hell off this rock.  Children of Earth took advantage of the opportunity when I reversed the Stormgates.  They created an explosion that killed a lot of people, and I’ve had to live with that every day since.”  He lifted a hand and rubbed at his brow wearily.  “I’m
still
dealing with it.  And every time I try to move on, someone like you or Emil throws it back in my face.”

“I don’t know who that is, and I don’t care,” Duran said.  “And you can try garnering sympathy somewhere else.  I’m the last person in this world who’s going to feel sorry for you.”

“I don’t want your goddamn sympathy.  I just want you to get over it and move on.”

“No chance.”

“We don’t have time to argue about this, Duran.”  Knile gestured to the kid in the machine.  “We need to get to the Atrium before Children of Earth trash the place.  They need to be stopped.”

“So that’s what you’re doing,” Duran said sarcastically.  “You’re fighting the bad guys for the common good.”

“No, the objective is still the same as it always was.  We’re still trying to get off this rock.”  He stepped forward.  “But part of that is making sure Children of Earth don’t destroy the Wire.  If that happens, none of us are ever leaving, including you.”

“Sorry, Knile,” Duran said.  “I don’t give a shit about your plan, or your friends.”

“Then we’re both going to die where we stand, Duran.”

Duran’s mouth twisted into a sour smile.  “Y’know, a part of me figured that was always the way it was going to go down.”

“Put the gun down, fucker!” Roman yelled through the speaker.  The contraption took another halting step forward.  “I’m done screwing around!”

Duran stared down the barrel of the .38 at Knile, but the uncertainty had left the other man’s face.  Knile regarded him impassively, utterly calm in the face of death.

Duran gritted his teeth and prepared for the end.

Suddenly there was a hand closing gently over his own, lowering the barrel of the .38.  He looked, startled, and saw Zoe standing next to him, blood on her ear and the side of her face from a gash above her temple.  His heart leapt to see her still alive.

“Listen to him, Alec,” she said, her voice cracking.  She appeared somewhat dazed, as was to be expected, and yet strangely calm.  “You don’t have to do this.”

“Zoe, I…”  He glanced back at Knile, who hadn’t moved, then returned his eyes to her.  “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better.”  She inclined her head toward Knile and the others behind him.  “Looks like we have a situation here, huh?”

Duran had allowed the muzzle of the .38 to dip at her touch, but now he brought it up toward Knile again.

“Yeah.  I finally have this bastard where I want him.”

Knile’s eyes flicked to Zoe.  “Maybe you c
an talk some sense into him, Zoe.”

“Shut up,” Duran said.  He brought his arm up in an attempt to shepherd Zoe behind him.  “You need to get out of here, Zoe.  You shouldn’t be here when this goes down.”

“Don’t do that,” Zoe said flatly, unmoving.

“Do what?”

“Don’t treat me like the damsel in distress.  I can take care of myself.”  She gave him a wry smile.  “Besides, we’re all going to walk out of here in one piece, right?”

Duran shook his head.  “I’m don’t think so.  Not all of us.  Now you need to–”

“I heard what he said a minute ago.  He’s not part of Children of Earth,” Zoe said.  “You never really believed that he was, did you?”

Duran regarded her uncertainly.  “Don’t listen to any of the shit that comes out of his mouth, Zoe.”

“Look at him,” she said, waving her hand at Knile.  “Does he have any of their characteristics?  Have you seen him communicating with them?”

“That doesn’t mean–”

“The only evidence you have is circumstantial,” Zoe said.  “I think you wanted to believe it because that would give you another reason to put a bullet between his eyes.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s one of them or not,” Duran said, turning back to Knile.  “He still has to die.”

“You pull that trigger, and you and I will die as well, Alec.  What’s that going to achieve?”

“There’ll be one less scumbag in the Reach, that’s what.”

Zoe stepped gingerly past Duran and stood before Knile.  “This scumbag just happened to save my life.  You realise that, don’t you?”

“What?”

“He shielded me from the explosion in that contraption of his,” she said.

“Oh, come
on
,” Duran scoffed.  “That was just dumb luck.  He was trying to escape through the transit system, that’s all.  He probably never even saw you there.”

“Either way, I’d be dead by now if he hadn’t shown up.”  She glanced over her shoulder at Knile.  “I figure I owe him one, even if it came down to chance.”

“This is bullshit,” Duran said, incredulous.

“I’m going with them, Alec,” Zoe went on.  “If what he said about Children of Earth is true, if they really are attacking the Atrium… I want to be there to try to stop them.  That’s a fight I can believe in.”

“What about Robson?  I thought you wanted to go back and help him.”

She shook her head disconsolately.  “They came for him.  The intruders.  I heard the whole thing on the
holo
phone.  He’s gone.  There’s no point going back.”

“You don’t know Oberend
like I do, Zoe. 
I’ll bet he’s lying about the whole thing.
  He’d do anything to save his own skin.
”

She shrugged.  “Oh, I’m pretty sure he’s serving his own purpose, but that doesn’t mean we don’t share a common enemy.  It doesn’t mean we can’t work together.”  She looked at Knile.  “I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt just this once, Alec.  Maybe you should do the same.”  She reached up again and put her hand on the .38, pushing it downward.  “You need to let it go.”

Duran stared at her, pleading.  “I can’t.  You know I can’t.  Not this.”

“Yes, you can.  Do it for
me
.”

Duran glanced back to Knile, then at Roman in the RECS, then back to Zoe.  He shook his head helplessly, trying to find an outcome that saw Knile dead and Zoe alive, but he couldn’t see a way to do it.  Zoe continued to apply pressure to his hand, but he would not lower the gun completely.

Roman’s voice came from the loudspeaker again.  “We don’t have time for this–”

The walls around them began to shake, bits of fractured plexiglass breaking loose and tinkling on the floor, and then whole room seemed
to buck, sending them scattering and rolling in different directions.  Duran bounced painfully on his shoulder before sliding to a halt, and then he felt the floor t
ip disconcertingly to one side.

“What the hell–?”
someone yelled, but over the rumbling and shaking he couldn’t be sure who it was.

That tipping sensation only lasted a split second, and then the floor seemed to right itself again.  Duran looked across to see Knile getting shakily back to his feet.  Duran got to his knees, but Knile was quick.  In two steps he reached the safety of the contraption again, where he paused at the door, casting a wary glance at Duran, before climbing back inside.  The door closed, and then Knile rounded on him in the metal monstrosity.

Duran waited for the aperture in the thing’s chest to open, for Knile to riddle his body with bullets.  Instead, he heard Knile’s amplified voice through the loudspeaker.

“Duran, get up.”  Knile turned and lifted one of the machine’s claws and smashed the door of the terminal apart in three rapid blows.

“What’s going on?” Zoe said, gripping Duran by the arm and helping him to his feet.

Knile stared out at them through the machine’s window, his face pale in the green light.

“We may already be too late,” he said.

33

Murtas Dux pressed the earpiece tighter against his head and strained to listen.

“Wolfe, say again?” he said.

He waited for a response, but all he heard was static.  He sighed, exasperated, and shook his head.

“Problem?” Dixon said gruffly, appearing at his side.

“It’s Wolfe, in the Atrium,” Murtas said.  “He was babbling on about something a moment ago, but I missed it.”

“I can go down and investigate, if you wish?” Dixon offered.

Murtas glanced around the roof.  Right at that moment, everything seemed like business as usual as far as he could tell.  Passengers were already arriving for the evening ride up the Wire.  As they had streamed past, Murtas had given them a once-over and decided that they were a motley crew – rough-looking sorts who were unfamiliar to him – but that was not necessarily a cause for concern.  The Consortium had scouts crawling all over Earth, digging up the last precious artefacts that still existed down there.  Many of them were little more than treasure hunters, and indeed, Murtas had seen all kinds of ruffians wander through the Stormgates in his time.

If these people had made it through the Stormgates, Valen and her cronies must have wanted something from them, be it information or something more tangible.  It wasn’t Murtas’ job to ask questions; Valen had made that clear on many occasions.

As he stood there, however, something began to make him feel uneasy.  He just wasn’t sure what it was that was nagging at him.

“Perhaps you should investigate,” he said finally, turning back to Dixon.  “There is–”

His earpiece crackled again suddenly.

“–coming through–”

Silence once more.

“Wolfe,” Murtas said, recognising the voice of one of the Redmen stat
ioned down in the Atrium.  “R
epeat.
  You’re breaking up.
”

Although only two words had filtered through to him, Murtas was alarmed by the urgency, the desperation that had been conveyed in those few syllables.  He waited a moment, then raised his voice to those around him.

“Brothers, to me.”

The other six members of the Crimson Shield who were lined out along the roof responded immediately, lumbering over to Murtas and forming a circle around him.  As they did, there was another burst through Murtas’ comms.

“–insurgents–”

A loud noise came through the earpiece, forcing Murtas to curse and rip the earpiece from his head.

“Fuck!” he snarled, glaring at the earpiece balefully.

“What is it, Dux?” Dixon said.

“There’s trouble in the Atrium.  Wolfe is trying to get a message through, but it’s breaking up.  He mentioned the insurgents.”

“Bastards,” Hughes said.  His youthful face seemed full of ire behind his visor.  “So they think they can just walk into our territory, do they?”

“We need to get down there immediately and make sure the situation is in hand,” Murtas said.  “Dixon, Marks, Hughes, Long.  You’re with me.”  He turned to the other two.  “Scifres, Plinsk, you will remain behind.  Keep your ears to your comms in case we need you, and make sure the techs and the passengers are kept safe at all costs.”

Murtas glanced over his shoulder at the passengers, who seemed to have started a discussion with the techs.  One of them, a large, cowled figure in a wheelchair, watched Murtas through slits in the bandages that had been wound around his face.  Murtas wondered for a brief moment what disease or affliction the filthy creature might be carrying, but he did not dwell on it.

He led the Crimson Shield away from the railcar and toward the elevator at a full sprint.