Spares (40 page)

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Authors: Michael Marshall Smith

Tags: #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Fiction

BOOK: Spares
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“Follow them,” I said.

Ratchet turned the ship and hovered back up to ten feet in the air. The children didn’t seem put out that we were tracking them. Far from it. Some of them started running, slowly at first, and then much faster. They weren’t running from us. They were leading us somewhere.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s pick up some speed.”

Ratchet accelerated slowly, and the children ran faster and faster like a pack of wolves finding their rhythm. Ratchet put his foot on the gas again until we were slipping along at a good forty miles an hour.

We followed the column of the children as they sprinted through the trees; Ratchet working overtime to avoid the trunks while keeping on the children’s track. At one point we rocketed over something that looked like the shadow of a truck, and I wondered if it was the ghost of the one Vinaldi and I had entered The Gap in. This impression was gradually reinforced as we surged farther through the forest, small hints of familiarity pressing themselves upon me through some sense I hadn’t known I possessed.

Then we flew over the village, and I knew for sure that we were going in the right direction. The gray shadows were streaming through the huts and out the other side like a river of smoke crushing all before it. Sometimes they seemed to blend into one being, at others to be a countless multitude; but they kept pounding forward, pulling Ratchet and me in their wake.

“I’m getting some infrared hits in the distance,” Ratchet said eventually, and I knew everything was about to go down.

“Okay,” I said. “Rack’em up.”

“What armament do you have in mind?”

“Everything we’ve got.”

The space between the trees was greater here, five yards apart in places. This freed Ratchet to increase the gunship’s speed still further until everything outside was a blur; but we didn’t overtake the children. However fast we went, they were still in front—until suddenly they weren’t there anymore and the forest all around us was empty.

I shouted at Ratchet to slow down. He did so immediately, our speed dropping so abruptly that I almost ended up molded to the control panel.

“Where’ve they gone? Can you see anything?”

“No. But there’s a small hill ahead. Could be masking them.”

“Go round it as quietly as you can,” I said. I felt sure there were probably some more technical terms I could
have used, but I’d been a foot soldier and I didn’t know them. The words “shoot” and “run” had been the limits of my tactical mastery.

The gunship inched onward, and I had a moment to notice that there was none of the dangerous light here and to hope that they had been here all the time. Ratchet brought the ship in close to the bank of trees. The ship vibrated with the effort, and I felt as if I were in the mind of a stalking cat.

But then I remembered: I was in a machine, and we were doing this all wrong. This wasn’t some movie, where people somehow don’t hear the slicks before they rise up over the trees. “Of course they can fucking hear us,” I shouted, more to myself than Ratchet. “Come on—just go in!”

Ratchet seemed to have anticipated the command, and the ship darted around the mound before I’d even finished yelling. We accelerated so fast that the lower portion of the ship drifted beneath us, and we came round on an angle. Only my seat belt prevented me from slamming to the floor and I kept my eyes locked out of the window.

In a flicker of an eye I saw Nearly and Vinaldi. Both looked as if they’d been nailed to trees. And Yhandim, who was holding Suej by the arm and staring straight at us. There were a couple of other soldiers in the clearing, one of whom was Ghuaji. That’s all I had time to see before the first bullets started hammering into the ship, one coming straight through the window to embed itself in the wall behind me.

Ratchet hurtled the gunship directly over the clearing, and into a tight turn. I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to fire out of the window without getting shot, and that everything was now out of my hands.

“Kill everyone you can,” I said. “Except Suej and the two people nailed to trees.”

The gunship roared as it banked, virtually turning in its own length. Then it tilted forward and Ratchet brought it in low and fast, pulse rifles scything out the
one form of energy the Gap villagers hadn’t been able to survive. On the monitors I saw one of the unknown soldiers go down, caught in the back by an orange needle of light.

You’re very welcome, I thought.

The ship rocketed past within yards of Nearly and I caught a glimpse of her face; she looked terrified but was still alive. For once in my life I felt like giving thanks to God, but then realized I didn’t have his E-mail address.

At the other side of the clearing Ratchet brought the ship into a screaming turn again, this time dropping lower and slowing down. The five remaining soldiers were now running away from us, but still holding combat formation. Yhandim and another soldier each had one of Suej’s arms, and were dragging her with them. Ghuaji and the other two were facing us as they ran backward, firing a constant stream of bullets into the gunship. The noise was like being in a tin can which has been left outside in a violent hailstorm. Bullets tend to make me want to hide, and I wanted so much to just hit the floor, but I knew I couldn’t. I had to see what was going on. Glass was shattering all around me, and the air was all ricochets and flames. It was getting hotter, and some part of the gunship was on fire, but I tuned it all out and watched grimly as Ratchet bore down on the fleeing men.

I had time for a brief warmth of smugness—
Weren’t expecting me to come back in a
gunship,
were you, guys?—
and then I saw something bad was happening. The soldiers were darting and running through the trees in a complex pattern, heading directly for areas where the trunks were too close together for the gunship to follow. Worse still, their outlines were becoming less distinct.

“Hurry!” I shouted to Ratchet. “They’re fading out!”

Ratchet couldn’t go any faster without killing us both, and concentrated instead on refining his fire; constant needles of pulse energy rocketed out from either
side of me and into the darkness. They maimed trees, hit the ground, even perforated falling leaves; but still the soldiers evaded them.

Yhandim was now little more than a flicker, and Ghuaji was disappearing with him. The hands holding Suej’s arms were barely visible, but they weren’t letting go.

“Ratchet,
you’ve got to stop them,”
I screamed, “Or they’re going to take her away.
They’ll turn her into one of them.”

The soldiers took a sudden right turn and ran down a steep bank, heading down onto the frozen bed of a stream. Our ship wobbled as it tried to follow them, overshot, and crashed through a copse of enormous bushes which clawed and snatched at us. A sudden burst of speed and a spine-tingling slalom brought them back into range again, and with horror I saw that Suej too was beginning to fade.

Nearly and Vinaldi were forgotten, along with the other spares and everything I had ever seen and done. All I could think of was Suej.

I saw her face turn back to us then, distorted with terror and tears. She stumbled and tripped as she was dragged down the rocky slope. She had no idea what was going on. As far as she knew we were another enemy, one that was simply bigger and more dangerous. Maybe she even welcomed being dragged away.

“Ratchet, KILL THEM!” I shouted, yanking my seat belt off and hurling myself up to the window. I stuck my face out and called Suej’s name, shouting it into the trees like a desperate prayer.

She looked! confused for a moment, then she saw me. For the merest of instants there was something like relief in her eyes, and she looked solid again.

I saw her ragged blond hair, inexpertly cut by me back at the Farm in an attempt to make her look like someone she once saw on the television; her pale blue eyes, wide with fear, face slack with confusion and dread; and a summer dress, splattered with mud, but
still carrying with it something of the afternoon on which it had been bought.

As she stared at me she tripped, staggering into the space where the remaining shadow of Yhandim ran.

Two bolts of orange light flew from the gunship like angels going home. One went through the space where the other soldier was, and the hand on her right wrist seemed to disappear.

The other hit Suej full in the chest.

“No!” I screamed. “No! NO!”

Yhandim’s hand slipped off Suej’s arm as she fell, and he disappeared off into space, the wraith of a smile the last thing to go. I lost sight of Suej for a moment, as Ratchet fought to turn the gunship round. I howled and smashed my fist against the side of the cabin, the other soldiers forgotten, the smoke and noise around me forgotten, the world nothing but a shout of denial.

Ratchet juddered the ship down to the ground and I leaped up and waited for it to land. I opened the door and fell down the ladder, not knowing or caring if any of the other soldiers were still visible.

When I crashed to the bottom I looked up the hill, my vision blurred, almost unable to see what we had wrought. And, perhaps because of the tears, I thought I saw something.

I thought that I could see the children again, standing around Suej’s fallen body. The boy was there, and all the others, looking down with compassion in their faces. I stood there, throat clenched, too afraid to move, as the children bent over her, hands reaching as if to help her up. Then they started to disappear, but one at a time, hundreds of lights going out until there were no lights at all.

I climbed as fast as I could, scrambling over slippery rocks and tangled roots, but by the time I made it to the top of the bank, Suej’s body had vanished.

In the clearing Nearly and Vinaldi were still hanging from trees, alone but completely uninjured. They hadn’t been nailed, only tied. I let them both down, and accepted a handshake from Vinaldi, but the relief in their eyes brought me little pleasure. Nearly looked frightened and probably wanted a hug, but I couldn’t provide one. Instead I walked away, sat down on a rock and lit a cigarette. My hands were shaking and I could see very little except the image of Suej’s face at the instant the orange light had killed her.

I didn’t hear the footsteps behind me, and was only aware of Nearly’s presence when I felt her arms slip round my waist. I stiffened against them, but she persisted, and after a while I gave up and let myself be held.

“We saw,” she said, “jack, it wasn’t your fault.”

I shook her off and walked a few paces, keeping my eyes fixed on the ground. I didn’t trust myself enough for eye contact, and at that stage I didn’t have the wit to consider that Nearly might be hurting too. She’d liked Suej; liked her very much.

“Maybe it was meant to-be,” she continued quietly, rubbing life back into her wrists. “Maybe it was
better
that way. I mean, if someone wanted her that bad it can only be because they needed her for parts.”

“Do you know where the others are?” I said brusquely. “David, Jenny?”

“Jenny’s been used already,” Vinaldi said, and I looked up to see him standing a few yards away. The right side of his face was one Targe bruise, and he was standing awkwardly. I guess he and Yhandim had discussed their unfinished business. He continued talking with the air of someone who knew he had bad news that had to be gotten over with. “Yhandim told us. They managed to keep her twin alive until she was found, and she was operated on immediately, the day Mal got killed. There was nothing left. The one called David has been taken to another Farm someplace. Where, I don’t know. They incinerated Mal’s body. The other two spares are dead. Their owners wouldn’t pay the ransom, so Yhandim got to kill them. He sounded pretty psyched about that.”

I barely heard the last few sentences. I didn’t know what to say, what to think, where to go, what to do. There didn’t seem anything large enough, any action sufficiently extreme or futile to express what was going through my head. It was less than a week since we had left the Farm, the spares scared out of their wits but hopeful that they might be able to have a life, become “proper people.” I brought five and a half human beings out of the womb and into the world, and now they were all dead—except perhaps David, who had been taken God knows where to be thrown back into a tunnel and wait for the knife.

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