Vengeance (Twenty-Five Percent Book 3) (15 page)

“No, thank you.”

“Because if it would make you feel better...”

“It wouldn’t.”

By the time Micah reached his bike, he was uncomfortably sticky.

He’d run most of the way, feeling the need to work off his anger. It didn’t work. He spent the whole drive back to East Town muttering into his helmet while the cool breeze dried him off.

“I can’t believe he did that. What was he thinking, taking them on all by himself? And ordering me away like I can’t take care of myself. Me! And he didn’t have to go after it. It was leaving, for goodness’ sake. He has lost it. I know he’s still upset about Hannah, but he’s going to get himself killed. I will not stand around and watch that happen. I won’t...”

When he reached East Town, Bates was outside the barrier, sitting on the turret of the Challenger Two and eating a sandwich.

“Where’s MacCallum?” he said as Micah climbed off his bike.

“How should I know?” He pulled off his helmet and threw it at the handlebar. It clipped the handle and clattered to the ground. Heaving a sigh, he picked it up and hung it more carefully.

“I thought you two were joined at the hip,” Bates said. “Is the honeymoon over?”

Micah shot him the most withering look he could muster. Bates ignored it and took another bite of his sandwich. Not really sure why he was there, Micah climbed up to the turret and sat down beside him.

For a while, the only immediate sound was Bates’ chewing.

“How is everything going out there?” Micah said, waving a hand meant to encompass the city in general.

“The horde isn’t doing anything much right now,” Bates said around his last bite. “Pete reported that one of the choppers came and rounded them up, probably to keep them from wandering off. But other than that, nothing. I’m taking the opportunity to eat while I still can. You should too. It’ll be balls to the wall time before we know it.”

Micah nodded.

They sat in silence for a minute or so.

“He’s just so frustrating!” Micah burst out.

Bates turned towards him, a single eyebrow raised.

“He’s going to get himself killed and I can’t stop him.” Micah scrunched his eyes closed and rubbed at them, trying to massage away the beginnings of a headache.

“I recall a period when you were phoning me every other day to pick you up from either the hospital or the police station,” Bates said. “If you weren’t picking fights you couldn’t win, you were getting into all kinds of trouble when you were too pissed to know any better, and that was often. There were times when I wondered if you’d make it to twenty-one.”

Micah frowned. “That was different.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“I... it just was, that’s all.”

Bates smirked, shaking his head. “After what happened to Caroline and how much anger you were carrying, you’re the last person I would have pegged to join forces with a Survivor. But it seems to be working for you.” He shrugged. “We live in interesting times. Unfortunately.”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you refer to them as Survivors.”

“Yes, well, ‘white-eye’ doesn’t exactly go down well around here. And especially if it’s me saying it, apparently.” Deep furrows appeared between his eyebrows. “I’ve had some adjusting to do in the past couple of weeks.”

Micah placed one hand over his heart in shock. “Don’t tell me you’re abandoning your conspiracy theories.”

Bates folded his arms. “I was right about something big coming.”

“But not about Survivors.”

“Just because this particular disaster isn’t down to them, doesn’t mean they’re not dangerous.”

Micah smiled, shaking his head. “Admit it, you’re realising they’re not so bad once you get to know them.”

“I am doing no such thing,” Bates growled. A pained expression crossed his face. “You know Penny is... having
relations
with that white-eye, Scott. She thinks I don’t know, but she’s no better at hiding what she’s up to now than when she was a teenager.”

Micah chuckled. “I have to admit, I wouldn’t have seen that coming in a thousand years.”

Bates rubbed one hand over his forehead. “I just don’t understand it. Is she doing it to punish me for something?”

“She’s thirty-seven, Bates. I think she’s a bit old to be rebelling. Maybe she just likes him.”

“I sure as hell hope not. And she’ll always be my baby.”

“Just think, you could have a Survivor for a son-in-law. Your grandkids could be...”

“Stop it, Clarke.”

Micah smiled and slid off the turret to the ground. “I’m going to find something to eat. And then I’m going to find Alex before he does something else really stupid I have to save him from. I may even apologise for punching him. Although I probably won’t.”

Sam studied the chessboard. He reached for a rook, thought better of it, and withdrew his hand.

“It’s all right if you want to concede the game,” his opponent said. “I’m pretty good.”

Sam waved a hand without looking up from the board. “I’m not beaten yet. Just give me a minute.”

“You’ve already had,” she looked at her Frozen watch, “three.”

“You’re timing me?”

“Yep.”

Shaking his head, he sent a bishop sliding across the board, kept hold of it while he took one last look, then let go.

A small hand darted out and moved a white knight. “Check.”

“What? Where?”

Emma giggled and pointed to her queen. Sam sighed and went back to studying the board.

When they’d found the chess set and Emma asked if anyone wanted a game, Sam had happily volunteered. He knew how to play and he was sure he could keep up with her. She’d even suggested a bet for best out of three games. If he won, she would give him half her stash of chocolate she’d been saving from her birthday two months before. If she won, he would take her and Katie to the park for two hours every day (unless it was raining) for a week. Of course, there was no way he would take an eight-year-old’s chocolate, but it didn’t look as if that was likely to be an issue. He had a strong suspicion he was being hustled.

He glanced at Claire sitting on the sofa with Katie on her lap, drawing. She looked up and smiled at him. Sam smiled back and found himself unable to tear his eyes away, until Katie said something and Claire looked down again.

Sam returned his attention to the board and saw Emma grinning at him. She closed her eyes and puckered her lips, pretending to kiss the air. Horrified, Sam looked back at Claire to make sure she hadn’t seen it, even though Emma had her back to her. To his relief, she was still looking at Katie’s drawing. He rolled his eyes at Emma and she giggled. Sam very deliberately returned his attention to the chessboard, trying not to smile.

Maybe Claire would come with them to the park. Sam liked Leon and Patrice’s two little girls and he wouldn’t mind spending time with them, but if Claire came it would be even better. As long as Logan didn’t find out and volunteer to come too.

Spotting a gap in Emma’s defence, he moved his queen, feeling just a little bit smug. Emma leaned forward, studying the board carefully as she planned her next move.

Sam’s mind drifted to Alex and Micah. He hoped they were all right. When they’d made the plan to move everyone into the flats, Sam had wanted to stay in East Town and help, partly so he’d look tough for Claire, but also because he genuinely wanted to protect the city he’d become a part of. But Alex had insisted he go with everyone else. “To keep them safe,” as he put it. Sam knew it was a ruse to keep him out of harm’s way, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to insist on staying and then do something wrong and get people hurt, or worse.

So here he was, getting thrashed at chess by a too smart eight-year-old. Still, Claire was here. He couldn’t object to being wherever she was.

The front door to the flat opened and Leon walked in. “Everyone’s settled,” he said in the deep voice that made Sam wish his own vocal chords were a little more macho. “We’ve got a watch schedule for the front entrance made up. Sam, you and I have from eight until twelve this evening.”

Pleased he’d been included, Sam nodded and performed a sloppy salute. “Yes, Sir.”

“What about me?” Claire said. “I want to help.”

Sam gazed at her with pride. She was so brave. And tough. And beautiful.

Leon glanced at Sam. “Well, you could take my place.”

Sam wanted to hug him.

“I will,” she said, smiling at Sam. “Sam and I make a good team.”

Sam had to force himself to keep breathing. All he could do was manage a nod and a shaky smile.

“Can we go and play with Luke, Miriam and Aaron later?” Emma said.

Leon grinned. “Missing your boyfriend?”

She blushed and looked down at the chessboard. “Luke’s not my boyfriend.”

“How do you know I didn’t mean Aaron?”

She rolled her eyes. “Aaron’s four, Dad.”

He touched her head as he walked past. “If your mother says it’s okay, it’s fine by me.”

Patrice appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. “The fridge has an icemaker in the door.”

“What are we going to do with an icemaker when the electricity isn’t on?” Leon said.

“That is not the point. It has an ice maker. In the
door
. You just hold a glass under it, press the button, and voilá, instant ice. I’ve always wanted a fridge with an icemaker in the door.”

Leon picked her up laughing, spun her around, and kissed her. “Then when we get back we will find a fridge with an icemaker in the door.”

“Mum?” Emma said. “Can me and Katie go and...”

She stopped abruptly, whipping her head around to look at the window. Leon put Patrice down and ran to look outside. Sam jumped up to join him.

“Daddy?” Emma said in a trembling voice.

Outside, one of Boot’s black helicopters flew past and disappeared around the corner of the building. Leon ran back across the room to the front door and into the hallway beyond, Sam following him to the stairwell a short way away where a window faced the front of the eight storey building.

They watched the helicopter land in a parking area wrapped around the front of the block. Four of Boot’s black suited security guards climbed out and headed for their building.

“Lee?” Patrice walked up behind them, worry etched onto her face.

“Go back to the flat and lock the door,” Leon said. “I’m going to go and see what’s happening.”

“Be careful.” She turned and ran back along the hallway.

“Sam,” Leon said, “you should go...”

“I’m coming with you,” Sam said. He patted the lump beneath his jacket where his pistol was tucked into his belt. “I’m armed. I can help.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Leon nodded. “Okay. We’ll...”

The sound of shattering glass came from the ground floor four storeys below. Leon put one finger to his lips and led the way down. They were halfway between the fourth and third floors when they heard heavy footsteps on the stairs then a loud banging, followed by a door crashing open.

“The two little black girls and the redhead, where are they?” a voice demanded.

Sam gasped, glancing at Leon. He was clutching the railing, his jaw clenched as he stared down the centre of the stairs.

A voice said something Sam couldn’t make out. He jumped as a gunshot rent the air.

“Where?!” the first voice shouted.

Leon pulled back from the edge and pointed up. Sam turned and ran quietly back up the stairs.

“Go and get them,” Leon whispered as soon as they reached the fifth floor.

Sam went to the flat and knocked. “We need to leave,” he said as soon as Patrice opened the door.

Claire immediately picked up Katie, carrying her to the door where Patrice took her. Emma ran to join them and they moved quickly to the stairwell where Leon was propping open the door. He held a finger to his lips and mouthed, ‘sshhh’. Sam could hear footsteps somewhere below.

They crept up two short flights to the floor above and stopped on the landing, pressing back against the wall, out of sight. Leon had his pistol in his hand, standing in front of the rest of them. Sam took his own pistol out. He’d had some practice, enough that he could now get a bullet more or less to hit what he was aiming at, but it still made him nervous. Beside him, Claire had her own gun in her hand. She was a much better shot than he was.

As they waited, listening to the clomping big feet of Boot’s tall guards on the stairs, Sam felt Claire’s hand, cold and trembling, slip into his. He squeezed her fingers, trying to convey without words what he felt, that he would do anything to keep her safe. Her hand stopped shaking and she squeezed back.

“This one,” a voice said.

Sam tensed. They were on the floor below. He glanced at Patrice standing beside Claire, Katie wrapped around her and Emma hanging onto her arm. What kind of people would come after a woman who’d never hurt anyone and her two little girls? Determination overrode Sam’s fear. Whatever he had to do, he wouldn’t let them be hurt.

The fire door on the floor below opened and then banged closed. Leon descended a few steps, leaning down to check the landing. Then he beckoned to them. Patrice in the lead and Sam last, they followed Leon back to the fifth floor where he stopped to let them past. Sam glanced through the glass door leading to the hallway as he passed. The door to their flat was open. As he looked, a black-suited man stepped out.

“They’re here!” the man yelled, launching himself towards them.

“Go!” Leon shouted.

Abandoning stealth, they ran down the stairs. Sam reached the next landing and looked back to see Leon punch the guard in the face as he came through the door. He collapsed and didn’t move. Leon waved at Sam to keep going. He turned and ran, hearing Leon’s voice behind him.

At first Sam thought he was talking to him, but then he realised he was speaking into his radio.

“Anyone, we need help. Boot’s guards are here. They’re after Pat and my daughters. Hurry, please.”

After two floors Patrice began to slow. Claire took Katie from her and they sped up again. Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs behind them. Any second, Sam expected to hear the crack of a gunshot and feel the sharp pain of a bullet tearing into his body.

As they reached the second floor landing, the stairwell exploded in sound.

Behind Sam, Leon grunted. He looked back to see the big man fall, crashing onto the landing above. Ahead, the others stumbled to a halt.

“Leon?” Patrice called, taking a couple of steps back up.

“Keep going,” Sam said. “They’re after you and the girls. Don’t stop.”

Obviously confused and scared, she nevertheless reacted to the most important thing: her children were in danger. Turning away, she continued down the stairs after Claire, Katie and Emma.

Sam started back towards Leon where he lay on the landing above.

Leon lifted his head, his face twisted in pain. One hand still held his gun while the other clutched his side, blood was oozing between his fingers. He shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was shaking. “No. Stay with Pat and the girls. Protect them.”

Sam looked down the stairs and then back at Leon, unsure what to do.

“Please,” Leon said. “Please go. Don’t let them hurt my girls.”

Sam made a decision. “I won’t.” He turned away and ran down the stairs.

A few seconds later, he heard a single gunshot above him. Blinking back tears, Sam ran on.

A scream split the air. Emma.

Panicked, Sam picked up speed, rounding the final landing before the ground floor then stopping. At the ruined front door below, a fifth guard stood in the shattered remains of the glass, a rifle trained on Claire, Patrice, Katie and Emma. Katie was crying in Claire’s arms.

“Put the guns down,” the guard growled.

“Good advice,” a voice said directly behind Sam.

He turned and his jaw exploded in a flash of agony.

Everything went black.