Authors: Steve Feasey
Mutant City (2 page)
Silas blinked, an uneasy expression on his face. ‘Don’t do that again. It’s . . . weird.’
‘I’m sorry. I was just trying to demonstrate to you that I would not be a liability to have around.’
His rescuer considered this. ‘There would have to be rules if you were to come and live with me. No more paranormal mind tricks unless they are absolutely called for. And the first time I find you rummaging around inside my head, you’re out, OK?’
‘Rummaging around in your head?’
‘I know you can tune into my thoughts, Jax.’
‘I wouldn’t do that to you. I respect you too much.’
Silas blew out his cheeks. ‘I can’t believe I’m going to do this,’ he said under his breath, ‘but, all right. You can come with me.’
‘Thank you.’
Silas looked about him at the room where the children had been imprisoned. ‘What do you say we erase this hellhole from the face of the earth?’
Jax didn’t hesitate. ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure.’
With that, the two set off in the direction of the cold fusion reactor deep in the bowels of the building, both determined that in a short while the place referred to as the Farm would utterly cease to exist.
A low, rumbling sound registered with Rush despite the fact he was fast asleep and dreaming. It was the same dream he always had. He was in a large white space. He was very small, but knew what was expected of him. Around him, set into the walls and ceiling at various points, were small, dark apertures, like black eyes staring out at him. In one wall was a mirror, and he somehow knew that the men who ran the place were behind it, looking in on him. There was a series of hisses followed by
phlump!
sounds as, suddenly, one after another, wooden balls flew at him from every direction. Just as the objects were about to strike, they were deflected, as if he and the projectiles were magnets of the same pole, repulsing each other at the last moment. He had the vague impression of a man’s voice – a man hidden behind the mirrored surface – but not of the words he was saying. All he knew was that the man was pleased Rush hadn’t been hit, and Rush was pleased he had made the man feel this way.
A door opened in the wall and a woman dressed all in white entered. The woman would take him back to the room where the others were kept. It was always the same woman in the dream.
But there was something different this time. She stopped before him, but instead of reaching down to pick him up, she spoke. The woman in white never spoke in the dream, and it was clear the voice wasn’t hers; it was the voice of a young man, as if someone was using this dream phantom to speak to him.
They’re coming for you, Rush. You have to escape NOW. You must make your way to the mutant ghetto near City Four. Cross the Wastelands and find the Tranter Trading Post. There’s something you need to collect there.
Rush opened his eyes and turned his head in the direction of the window beside his bed. The rumbling had stopped abruptly. Strangely, it was this sudden lack of noise that had finally wrenched him from his sleep. Night had not yet given way to day, but the colour and quality of the light outside told him it would not be long before dawn broke. Getting to his knees on the small wooden pallet with the straw-stuffed mattress on top, he peered outside at the official-looking vehicle that had come to a halt outside their farmhouse, its engine making loud ticking sounds as it cooled.
Josuf appeared at the doorway to Rush’s room, hastily pulling on a holed and misshapen woollen jumper as he looked fearfully towards the window. His hair was sticking up and he ran a hand over his beard in a manner that made Rush nervous. They could both clearly hear the voices outside now. Josuf spoke with quiet urgency. ‘Get your clothes on, Rush. Get them on and get ready. It’s probably nothing. But just in case . . .’
‘But –’
‘Do it. Now.’ He turned away from the boy and walked back along the narrow hallway in the direction of the front door.
As he tugged his trousers on, Rush stole another glance through the window just as men began to disembark from the vehicle. The first out looked down at an electronic device in his hands, swiping the glowing screen with his finger before nodding back at two more men, each of whom Rush could now see was carrying a rifle of some kind. Rush leaned forward until his forehead almost touched the windowpane, squinting to get a better look at the weapons.
He heard the front door open, and the man he thought of as a father spoke: ‘Can I help you? Who are you people?’
‘Agency for the Regulation of Mutants. Get everyone in the house outside.’
Rush’s blood ran cold. The ARM was a relatively new organisation set up under the direction of President Melk. The men and women who served in its units were notorious for their brutality and there had already been a number of deaths during the breaking up of ‘illegal mutant rallies’. It was especially worrying that they were out here; the ARM crews usually stayed close to the cities, and to the mutant slums that had sprung up beyond their walls.
‘It’s rather late. Couldn’t this wait until –’
‘When I want your opinion, Mute, I’ll ask for it. All members of this household out front now. You’ve got two minutes to comply.’ The man glanced down at his omnipad. The light shining up from below cast deep shadows over his face.
‘What makes you think there’s anyone else here?’
‘The people on the neighbouring smallholding told us that there’s a young boy living here. Approximately fifteen years of age?’
‘He’s asleep.’
‘Then you have –’ the man consulted his watch – ‘about one minute fifty seconds to wake him up and get him the hell out here.’ He stopped, his abrupt tone softening a little. ‘We just need a small blood sample from you both. Nothing more than a prick of the finger. We’ll run it through our machine and be on our way.’
‘Right.’ Josuf gestured back towards the house. ‘I’ll, er . . . I’ll go and get him.’ As he turned and walked towards the door he lifted his hand, accidentally knocking the metal triangle that hung beside the door and making a loud clanging sound. He grabbed the thing to quieten it again, turning and nodding his apologies to the armed men.
The triangle was the signal. Rush hurried from his room, making his way down the hallway and into the kitchen. There, disguised to look like a part of the wall, was a secret panel. He pulled it back on its hinges, crouched down and peered inside. The space seemed much smaller than he remembered. It was the ‘safe place’ Josuf had shown him when he was still small. In those days, his guardian had spoken often about what to do if a ‘situation’ occurred, but it had been a long time since the pair had even thought about such a thing or conducted the ‘emergency drill’ that had been so commonplace back then. Nevertheless, the boy remembered the things they’d agreed; he shuffled inside, pulling the panel back into place behind him. Cobwebs stuck to his face and hair; he blew them away as best he could while listening out for the sounds of the house on the other side. If ever he heard the signal, he was to come here and wait until Josuf arrived.
Rush tensed as the panel slid open, but was relieved to see Josuf’s face. ‘You remembered,’ the man said with a sad smile.
‘Of course I remembered. Get in.’
He was perplexed when Josuf shook his head. ‘You have to go, Rush.’ He reached over the boy’s shoulder and pushed at another section of wall that fell away, clattering noisily down a set of stone steps that appeared to lead behind and beneath the farmhouse. A damp, earthy smell filled the small hiding space.
Rush stared at the opening before turning back. ‘How long has that been there?’ he asked.
‘Long enough. Listen. You have to take the tunnel and run. Don’t stop, Rush. Don’t stop until you’re past the orchard and into the woods on the other side. Make your way towards City Four and –’
‘That’s what the voice in my dream said.’ The vision of the woman speaking in a voice that was not her own returned.
‘What?’
‘I had that weird dream again – the one about the things trying to hit me. Only this time it was different.’ He frowned, remembering. ‘In my dream it’s a woman that comes to get me. She never usually speaks, but this time she did . . . in a man’s voice.’
‘What did the voice say?’
‘It told me to collect something from the Tranter Trading Post, then go to the mutant ghetto at City Four.’
Despite the danger they were clearly in, Josuf shook his head and allowed himself a brief smile. ‘Jax,’ he said.
‘Who?’
‘Never mind that now, you have to go. Get to City Four. Find Silas . . . and Jax. You won’t remember them, but they will know you.’
‘What’s going on? What about you?’
‘I’m going to hold them back as long as I can.’
‘But –’
‘I knew men might come looking for you one day, Rush. It’s part of the risk I was willing to take when I promised to protect you, and I’ll be damned if I won’t do just that, now I’m called upon to do so!’ He stopped. Reaching out, he placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders, taking in the teenager’s face in the dim light. ‘You’ve been like a son to me, Rush. The son I always –’
There was a loud bang from somewhere in the house. Josuf shoved the boy towards the opening. ‘There’s a chain at the bottom of the steps. It hangs down from the roof – you can’t miss it. Reach up and pull it down hard. Then get to the end of the tunnel as fast as you can.’
‘TIME’S UP, MUTE!’ Josuf half turned at the sound of the soldier’s voice. ‘We’re coming in to get our blood!’
‘What’s going to happen, Josuf?’
‘I’m going to keep my promise.’
The two looked at each other for a moment longer. ‘I wish you
had
been my father,’ Rush said as tears slid down his cheeks.
‘Thank you, son. Thank you.’ The man who had been Rush’s guardian for the past thirteen years shoved him through the opening and closed the panel behind him.
The tunnel was a dark, rat-filled space. With one hand on the cold mud wall to his right, Rush half stumbled, half fell down the steps leading to the long escape route away from the farmhouse. He had no idea how Josuf could have made such a thing, or how long it must have taken him. He could hear the usual residents scurrying out of his way as he stepped off the bottom step. Remembering Josuf’s instructions, he groped around overhead, reaching up and blindly seeking out the chain in the blackness. When his fingers finally brushed the cold metal links, he grabbed hold and pulled down with all his might, jumping involuntarily as a heavy iron grille dropped down to block off the stairs behind him. He stared at the thing, knowing it not only cut off any chance for him to return via the stairs, but also the possibility of Josuf’s joining him in the tunnel. He had little choice but to do as he’d been told. He was about to start out into the dark tunnel, but froze when he heard the muffled sounds of shouting somewhere beyond the stone steps. He didn’t want to be down here on his own. It felt like cowardice to be running away like this when he should be up there, helping. But the only way back was to get to the end of the tunnel and turn round. Feeling for the wall again, Rush stumbled blindly ahead into the blackness.
After what could only have been a few minutes – it felt like much longer – Rush made out a small glimmer seeping down into the darkness from above. He looked up at the dim ring of light describing the edges of what must be a small, covered hole in the ground. His heart sank. There was no way he could get up to it without help. The thought of being stuck down here chilled him, until he realised that as tall as Josuf was, he would not have been able to reach it either. He took a step backwards to get a better look and nearly tripped over the wooden ladder on the floor behind him. Quickly grabbing the thing, he thrust the leading edge upward.
As the sole of his foot touched the third rung he heard the loud crack of what could only be a shot being fired.
His spine turned to ice and his stomach lurched. Then, full of rage and fear, Rush threw himself at the wooden lattice structure above. The earth on top of it had formed a seal around the edges, so he had to slam his shoulder into it to lift it up and out of the way.
He found himself at the edge of the orchard, where he stood getting his breath and his bearings. Spinning round, he looked back down the slope in the direction of the house he’d grown up in. There was a strange calm as the rest of the world slowly woke up. Then the second shot rang out.
Despite everything Josuf had said, Rush began to run back towards the house, slowing only a fraction as he saw the men coming out. When one of them spotted him, a shout went up and they headed for their vehicle.
Then Josuf was at the door, holding a heavy-looking metallic tube in his right hand. The front of his jumper, the jumper he’d been pulling on as he came into Rush’s room, was a bloody, wet mess. Josuf staggered towards the vehicle as its engine started up, and raised the arm holding the tube above his head. Rush gasped as he watched the personnel carrier move off, heading at speed straight for his guardian, who did nothing to get out of its way. As the vehicle ploughed into Josuf there was an almighty explosion, the force of which knocked Rush backwards off his feet, the air above him transformed into a rolling wave of heat.