Reason For Vengeance (Dark Vengeance Book 1) (43 page)

“Mummy.  Why did you leave us?”  Bobbie asked.  She was in her kitchen, the smell of baking cakes surrounded her and there in front stood her son.  He looked up at her with those big brown eyes and his smiling face was a beacon of love.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweet heart,” she told him.

“Yes you did, Mummy.”  Blood started to leak from his eyes like dark red tears.

Crouching down Valerie enveloped him into a fierce hug and buried her face into his neck.  “I won’t go darling, I’m right here,” she reassured him.

He slipped easily from her grasp and stood back.  “Yes you did,” blood was steaming down his face and dark red spots began to blossom on his body.  “We died and you ran from us.”  Those spots spread outward gaining in size and she reached for him.  It didn’t matter how far she stretched, she could not get to him.  “Why haven’t you avenged us?”

“I’m trying baby.  I’m…..”  Bobbie disappeared as a voice intruded itself.

“Valerie.  Valerie.”  Light lanced into her when she opened her eyes.  A hand was shaking her and someone loomed over her, deep in shadow, the light behind them.  She snatched out her hands to defend herself or tried to.  Her right was entangled and she couldn’t get it free.  Her left missed, she never missed.

“Come on, Valerie.  You need to wake up.”  The voice was familiar.  Hanna.  It was Hanna.  The dream faded as harsh reality reasserted itself.  Valerie’s eyes managed to focus and she could now see the girl.  Confused, she looked around.  She was in her bed.  Her arm was caught in the covers.

“Gea ou,” she meant to say ‘Get out’ to Hanna.  Her voice was rough, throat dry and her mouth wouldn’t form the words.

“You have to get up, Valerie,”  Hanna said.  Her voice was so loud it sent spikes of pain through her head.  Trying to push the girl away made no impact, Hanna simply brushed Valerie’s arm aside.  She didn’t have any strength.

“Leave me alone,” she told the girl, shaking her head.  That was a mistake, the room spun and her stomach complained heavily.  Rolling, Valerie fell to the floor.  Unsteadily, she pushed herself to her hands and knees, crawling the two metres into the attached shower room.  Again her stomach convulsed, a flood of vomit filled her mouth to capacity, only held back by Valerie’s clamped jaw.

The toilet was just inside and Valerie barely made it in time.  She thrust her head down the basin and with a third heave, her stomach forced her mouth open.  Out it all came in a torrent of burning, acidic yellow liquid.  Again and again she heaved, her stomach pushing everything inside, out. 

With nothing more left, Valerie slumped down.  Her legs spread out on the floor and her head rested on the edge of the basin.  Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she spat out what was left and reached for a tissue.  With acid burning her sinuses, she blew out everything that bypassed her mouth going into her nose.  The sodden tissue followed the rest of it into the bowl and she rested her head back down.  Not trusting herself to get up.

“How did I get here?” she said into the bowl.  “I was in the bar.”

“You were.  After you passed out, we carried you in here,” Hanna said from the other room.

After gathering her strength, Valerie rolled gently round.  She was now sitting on the floor next to the toilet, her head resting on the wall.  She glanced down at her sleeveless top and bare legs.  A quick light check with her hand confirmed she still had her underwear on.

“Who’s we?”

“Deni, Troll and me.  You’re heavier than you look.”  She must have seen Valerie check.  “We thought it best to take most of your clothes off before putting you to bed.”  Valerie’s brain was now beginning to work.  She realised there was no sympathy in Hanna’s tone.  It was almost business like.

“You stink.  Get showered and dressed.  Meet me and the Crew in the briefing room as soon as you can.  I’ve got something to show you.”  Valerie looked round and Hanna stood from where she sat on the bed.  “I’ve left you coffee and food on the table.  I suggest you eat it.  You’ll need your strength.”  Hanna walked out and Valerie shut her eyes.

She stayed there for a few minutes, concentrating only on her breathing.  Vomiting settled her stomach for the moment, but it had done little for her head.  It was like it was stuffed with cotton wool, her thoughts were slow and difficult to get through.

The last few days were a hazy blur.  All she could remember were bottle after bottle of whisky.  One memory swam through her muddy brain.  Aamir.  Seeing Aamir, the all-consuming rage, the fight out of the Tower, what he told her and the execution.  There was no guilt at that.  He knew what was coming and known he deserved it. 

Through the fog of her thoughts came the memory of what she asked.  She told them to find Bjorn Pomykala and if Hanna had something to show her, it must have to do with that.  The rage snarled.  Valerie opened her eyes and fought against the stabbing pain from the light.  Powered by rage and will, she struggled to her feet and leant heavily on the sink. 

She couldn’t face the food, not yet.  She needed water and bent her head directly to the tap.  The cold water flowed over her face and into her mouth.  The first small gulp she rinsed around and spat out.  Those that followed felt good against her raw throat as she swallowed them gingerly, not wanting to overload her stomach too quickly.

Straightening up gently, Valerie shut her eyes and took several deep breaths.  The room swam around her.  Gritting her teeth, she used the anger.  It gave her the focus to peel off her clothes and climbed into the shower.  The water was hot and soothing as it ran through her hair and down her body.  With slow movements that gained pace, she washed her hair and body before just standing in the flow of water.  She let it rinse away the hangover.

Stepping out she felt stronger and little more alert.  There were no energy dryers here in the Inferno Ghetto.  She had to rub her head and body dry with a thick cotton towel.  After hanging the towels up to dry, she scooped up the dirty clothes and dropped them in a bin by the door.  She would take them to the local laundrette.  They would return them to the bar once cleaned.

Selecting fresh underwear and another black sleeveless top, from a drawer containing a dozen identical items, she got dressed.  Hanna, who only a few months ago would have only three or four different tops, often teased Valerie on her choice of clothing.  Once she would have cared, now Valerie did not see the point of bothering and bought twenty identical ones.  It was easier.

Her black trousers were hung over a chair by the small window.  She pulled them on along with her combat boots.  These she brought with her from the Spectre and had serviced her well.  She owned two pairs of the trousers.  This pair displayed the mended rip from the Stone Dragon running down the side of the calf. 

Carefully she strapped her pistols on, her hands shook and she still felt woozy.  She took her time to make sure they were done right.  By the door hung her long, dark coat and next to it, on a small table, sat a sealed cup and food container.  Looking at it Valerie tried to decide if she was hungry or not. 

Her stomach was making it very clear to her, it really didn’t want any food.  It was rare she suffered a hangover, she really needed to drink a lot for her body to get to this stage.  Prior to landing on Blaze, her last hangover had been as a young woman, newly released from the Prometheus program and their tests. 

Like all young people and, in particular, new recruits in the Legion, she went out most nights.  There she tested her limits and out drank those around her with ease.  On some rare nights she pushed herself because of the sense of immortality common to all that age.  Sometimes its cause was when her dislocation to the rest of humanity, due to her different upbringing, became too much for her.  Then she experienced what she felt now.

Since arriving in Inferno, she subjected herself to many hangovers, none as powerful as this one.  One thing she learnt as a young woman, if she wanted to function, she had to ignore her stomach and eat something.  This was the one occasion you probably shouldn’t listen to what your body told you.  This bit of experience hadn’t really been relevant in her previous drunken binges on Blaze.  When she endured those hangovers, prior to joining the Crew, she merely went back to the bar for another drink.

She opened the container and the waft of cooked bacon assaulted her nose.  She picked up the thick bacon sandwich and, despite her stomachs protests, took a bite.  It was difficult to chew.  Her mouth dried instantly and wouldn’t produce any more moisture.  Drawing on her anger, she womanfully chewed through it and swallowed. 

Already she felt better and put the sandwich down for a moment putting on her coat, she opened the cup.  Inside was strong hot black coffee, a sip confirmed it was heavily laced with sugar.

“Where did you learn that Hanna?”  She said to herself, taking another bite of the sandwich.

Hanna was not one to spend her nights out drinking with her friends.  Previously that was probably because she and Deni hadn’t been able to afford it.  It was certainly no longer the case.  They both did very well out of working for Sneaker.  Valerie guessed there was something in Hanna’s past to do with drink or drugs, making her not want to indulge herself.  Cocking her head to one side as she thought, it occurred to Valerie that it may also explain some of Hanna’s attitude earlier.

Shrugging, Valerie put it from her mind.  Now was not the time.  Feeling almost human, she knew it was time to answer Bobbie’s question.  With her coffee in one hand and sandwich in the other, Valerie left her small apartment.

It was on the third floor and, like most such places in the Ghetto, the lifts didn’t work.  The stairs were crowded with people.  They weren’t designed to be the main thoroughfare of the building.  People recognised Valerie and stepped out of her way as she went down.  Sometimes there was an advantage to having the reputation of a stone cold killer. 

No doubt there were already rumours circulating she was behind the attack.  It wouldn’t be from anyone who knew anything.  The denizens of Sneaker’s territory took a perverse pride in their Chief Enforcer being feared throughout the city.  They would whisper her name and tell it as though they knew people from the Crew, just as those in other territories would do the same for their champions.

Outside the sunlight was bright and Valerie blinked while her eyes became accustomed to the glare.  The sun shone directly down from overhead. Valerie stood at the street curb and waited for a break in the passing traffic, so she could cross the road to the Dawning Sun opposite. 

All her focus was on Bjorn Pomykala and where he would be hiding.  The Dawning Sun was its usual dark self and Valerie nodded her thanks to Tatiana, who was on the early shift today.  Hanna may have walked it across the street, but it was unmistakably Tatiana’s coffee and the sandwich would have come from the casino’s kitchen upstairs.  Dropping the empty cup on the bar, she headed through to the back.

Down in the basement, Valerie entered the briefing room and saw, with the exception of Sneaker, the entire Crew were there.  They sat in chairs arrayed in a semicircle around the holo table.  None of them would meet her eyes.  Though word would not have spread beyond this building of what transpired, it certainly would have done so within it.  Only Hanna, who sat perched slightly on the table at the front, would look at her evenly.

“What are you all doing here?”  Even to herself, her voice sounded abrupt, cold and detached.  These were her troops, her responsibility and she respected and trusted them all.  She owed them more than the way she had spoken.  Yet she couldn’t bring herself to treat them as they deserved.

“I asked them to be here,” Hanna said standing up.

“What gave you the right?”

“Sneaker put me in charge of this and we’re doing it my way.”  The girl said her face hard.  There was uncertainty behind it and Valerie fought the rage inside of her.  It wanted her to exploit that weakness.  The rage could not, would not, tolerate any threat to her authority, her very means of dealing with the man with a hand in the murder of her family.

“Where’s Bjorn?” Valerie asked coldly.

“I’ll tell you as part of the briefing, Valerie.  Now sit down,” Hanna was almost convincing in her attempt to take control.

“Really?  What are you going to do if I don’t?”

“Good luck finding him without me.”

Valerie stepped right up in front of Hanna.  She felt as though her entire body was keyed to a knife edge.  The hangover was a distant memory as her rage burned through her and Valerie’s fists were clenched at her side.  “What’s to stop me choking the information out of you?”  Almost she regretted those words.  Only almost.

There was a stir from the Crew behind and Hanna swallowed deeply.  The girl stepped even closer, so they were practically nose to nose.

“Tom, Daphne and Bobbie,” she said in the faintest of whispers.

It was like someone punched Valerie in the stomach.  Tears sprung to her eyes as those names were spoken to her for the first time in two years.  She felt her entire body deflate.  The rage receded and she stared into those so familiar blue eyes.

“You know,” was all she could say.

Hanna nodded slightly.  “Just Sneaker and me.”

No longer able to see those eyes, Valerie lowered her head and collapsed down into an empty seat.  She was distantly aware the room relaxed with her and a collective breath was released.