SILVER: Acheron (A River of Pain) (The SILVER Series) (12 page)

Luckily, they were able to subdue it before it could do any real damage, but Silver’s shoulder took a beating. The Chimera’s bite chomped through her flesh and left her with a set of deep puncture marks, requiring more gauze and tape than Alex’s limited field kit had to offer.

For a shockingly high price, the one-stop’s medical supply section had provided a reel of hemp gauze and a small bottle of ethanol to disinfect the wound.

The gauze came in useful, but Silver downed the ethanol before Alex had a chance to use it. Of course, the Chimera’s meaty saliva gave her septicemia, and she spent the next month on leave, in-and-out of hospital, taking antibiotics and other IV meds that caused her to hallucinate about living on the moon.

She denies this happened.

Today, she wanders the somewhat familiar aisles in search of something different, wondering if that’s still her blood all hardened and crusted on the floor beneath the bulk jerky section where she’d stopped to grab a bite to eat.

“It’s not all Chimera,” Alex had told her, and she’d found the thought of that really quite repulsive. Human jerky mixed in with the leftovers of pit fight losers.

She’d lost her appetite.

Eager to escape the memories, she makes her purchase and leaves.

Back at the theatre, she finds Alice practicing her literary prowess with Alice In Wonderland and munching on pretzels.

Without looking up from the book, “You’re back early, this time.”

“You must be bored sitting here. Fancy a jaunt?”

Alice peers up at Silver over the top of the book, full of suspicion. “You said I mustn’t leave.”

“This place shouldn’t be your cage. Here”—Silver tosses her a small box—“I’ve found a way for you to blend in.”

Alice drops the book to examine the box from the one-stop.

Colored contact lenses.

Blue.

“It was either that, or cat’s eyes,” Silver smiles.

“Cat’s eyes would’ve been cool.”

“But no less conspicuous.” She checks her invisible watch. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Where?”

“I’m buying you something special.”

“What?”

“Citizenship.”

The Buffer Zone

Two birds, one stone.

At least, that’s how Silver pictures it. She needs Trip, and Alice needs a tag. Alice is the perfect little excuse for Silver to exploit so that she might get close enough to her target.

Maydevine wants him alive, so she has to be careful. Nothing about her visit can be allowed to appear suspicious, otherwise this bright, sunshiny day will be in danger of ending in a bloodbath.

She packs a few essentials into the hold all: some bottles of water, the grenades Luka and Maydevine let her keep from the old school, and a few bites to eat. Down in the bowels of the theatre’s dressing rooms she finds an old pair of shoes, and stuffs socks into the ends so that Alice can wear them comfortably on her much smaller feet.

Today, there will be a great deal of walking.

From Silver’s theatre, the walk they must take is almost directly west—to the other side of the island. Leaving the relative safety of the built-up, more industrial areas of the Fringe District, their path takes them into territory never before explored by Silver.

The most heavily populated sectors of the Fringe hug the northern and eastern banks, overlooking the Sentinel District and a newly proposed subdivision in Old World Manhattan, earmarked for a Third Reclamation.

More recently, human occupation of the Fringe District has extended south, but the western coast has been most carefully and deliberately avoided. Nobody wants to take up residence overlooking the tidal strait separating the Fringe District from the Unknown Territories beyond it. Anything could be lurking out there, and no Fringer wants to be the first in line to find out what it is.

This fear has led to a striking division between the Fringe District’s east and west sides, and you’ll be left in no doubt as to when you’ve strayed too far. In the heart of the Fringe District is a dense and thickly wooded no-man’s-land—a nesting place for robbers and thieves. Dare to tread any deeper than Lake May, a valuable source of fresh water, and you’ll be taking your life in your hands.

All of the Old World greenbelt land beyond this point belongs to the loners—the Lurkers. How they survive, no-one is quite sure. Some say they’re cannibals, feasting on the meat of unlucky trespassers or the unfortunate lost.

Silver doesn’t care, so long as she manages to avoid them. By keeping close by the southern bank of Richmond Creek, she keeps away from the thick tree cover and stays out in the open. Careful to make sure the border of occupied land is never far out of her sight line, she at least has the hope that, if anything should go wrong, they may be able to run their way out of it.

Happy to be outdoors in the fresh air, Alice leaps and bounds over knee high grass and shrubs and bushes, and she chases birds. Dressed in Silver’s old clothes, she’s like the prettiest little ragdoll you’ve ever seen. Nothing fits her properly, but it’s all she has.

Silver keeps a steady pace behind her, watching her, struggling to keep up at times. Raised in the military, Silver is fit—even with the extra weight of the hold-all to contend with. Used to taking five mile runs in her stride, she’s put to shame by Alice’s remarkable stamina. When challenged to a thousand yard sprint, Alice leaves her in the dust … then laughs at her.

“You’re out of shape.”

“Bullshit. You’re a freak of nature.”

She doesn’t mean that the way it sounds, and she regrets her choice of words as soon as they leave her lips. In truth, she’d forgotten all about Alice’s … difference.

“A freak?” Alice loses her smile. “You really think I’m a freak?”

Still trying to catch her breath, Silver shakes her head. “I don’t know what you are.” She pulls a bottle of water out of the hold-all and takes a sip. “And I’m not sure that I care.”

That pleases Alice, and coaxes the smile back onto her lips.

“Are we nearly there?”

At the point where Fresh Kills Creek feeds into Richmond Creek, tucked behind a small copse of trees, they’re just a stone’s throw away from the disused shipyard that Trip calls his office.

From here, Silver’s plan dissolves. There could be a whole entourage of Trip’s men, just waiting to blow their heads off. Or, there could be a bunch of useless junkies, barely conscious and drooling into their laps.

No way of knowing.

Silver opts for a direct approach, not wanting to appear as if she’s trying to catch anyone off guard. She takes Alice by the hand, and together they emerge from the trees, approaching the shipyard via the main road.

Gladly, Alice wraps her fingers around Silver’s hand, holding her tightly.

“I can feel your heartbeat in your finger,” she whispers. “You’re scared?”

“Prepared, more like.”

“To run?”

“That’s one option, but honestly it’s usually my least favorite.”

“Of course, you’re combative. I learned that the day we met.”

“I don’t back down, if that’s what you mean.”

“Even when you’re outnumbered?”

Alice tips her head to the shipyard rooftops, the subtle shape and form of concealed snipers and their rifles, barely visible. They’re silhouetted against the glare of the sun, and protected by the shadows and crevices of the Old World architecture around them.

Unintentionally, Alice digs her nails into Silver’s skin, her grip tightening as her anxiety level heightens.

“Are these people really that dangerous?”

Silver shrugs. “They’re not party planners, that’s for sure.”

Breaching the perimeter of the shipyard, she and Alice stop dead in their tracks as a distorted voice screeches out over an Old World tannoy system.

“Drop the bag!”

Alice leaps behind Silver in an instant, clutching at the back of her jacket and holding her body tight. She’s standing so close Silver can feel the warmth of her skin and the tension in her touch.

“Hands where I can see them,” the voice demands.

Silver raises her hands up, but Alice stays put.

Dissatisfied with that, the voice insists, “Both of you.”

“She’s not armed,” Silver calls out into the ‘empty’ shipyard.

“Is that what I asked?” the voice calls back.

Silver nudges at Alice with her shoulder. “Just do it.”

“What if he shoots me?”

“He’ll shoot both of us if you don’t.”

Fair enough.

Alice steps out from behind Silver, her fingers interlaced on the top of her head.

Squeakity-squeak, squeak, squeak.

Rusty metal wheels grind against corroded axels, badly in need of some lube, and a grotesque chariot trundles into view—an old horse cart, pulled by two adult Chimera. Reined in to the contraption by metal harnesses bolted into their bones, the Chimera comply to the commands of their captors, despite the pain. The bridles, guiding them to turn left or right, are so tight against their faces, the wire is cutting into their skin. Literally chomping at the bit, these creatures have worn down their back teeth against the steel rods in their mouths, and infection has already begun to set in where the dentin is exposed and bacteria flourish.

Their canines have been filed down and they’ve been de-clawed, stripped of their ability to fight back. The smaller one, weak from starvation, would collapse against the ground, except that the rigid harness won’t allow for it. Drooping its head in exhaustion, its eyes ooze that milky cleaning fluid, and a single drop trickles like a human tear down its cheek. Both its lower lids are sagging and bloodshot, and the color in its eyes is fading at the edges—a symptom of encroaching blindness and an overworked heart that’s beginning to give out.

Their jockey is a human—not Trip, though—and is packing a collection of weapons that makes Silver jealous.

“We’re here to see Trip,” she volunteers.

“Do you have an appointment?”

Silver nudges at the hold-all with the toe of her boot. “I was hoping to buy one.”