Sunspire (The Reach, Book 4) (18 page)

Duran stood watching the dirigible growing smaller and smaller in the sky as it headed east.  Unwittingly, his mind went back to the moment when he had left Bagley’s office.  As he’d cast
back
a final glance, he’d been filled with an odd kind of revulsion at the sight of Talia and her companions.  They
’d been
dishevelled, haggard, exhausted and desperate.  A
group at the end of their tether.

A part of him knew that they weren’t going to make it.  He could see by the look in their eyes that they felt the same.  Maybe they hadn’t admitted it to themselves yet, but the doubt was there.  There were too many obstacles in their path, too many pieces of the puzzle that had to fall just the right way.

Duran felt no pity for them.  In fact, a guilty part of him rejoiced in the fact.

You put your trust in Knile Oberend
, he thought. 
You got what you deserved.

“So what’s got you all riled up?” Zoe said beside him.

He snapped out of his daydream and turned to see her staring at him, evaluating.

“Huh?”

“You look like you’re ready to smash someone in the face.”  She glanced at the dirigible.  “Still angry with those guys?”

“No, not really.  Just thinking about how pathetic they are.”

Zoe gave him a disapproving glare.  “They’re not the enemy, Alec.”

“Maybe not to you.”

She shrugged.  “Well, they’re gone now.  You can get over it.”  She turned up the street.  “Let’s go find your dad.”

They continued on, wary of keeping an eye out for the two men in hoods.  If it really was Duran and Zoe that the men were interested in, this would be a perfect time to strike, now that their group had
split up
.  However, for the moment, their pursuers remained unseen.

They were close to his parents’ house now, and Duran knew the area well.  He’d spent many years in this neighbourhood and he hoped that his local knowledge would give him the edge should he be involved in either an ambush or a straight-up fight.

Up ahead, the old Five Wind Markets that Duran had frequented in his youth had become the source of much activity as the last of its goods were plundere
d by looters.  Duran watched them with distaste, his old instincts as an Enforcer telling him that he should be doing something to prevent the crime spree, but knowing he was powerless to stop the tide.  Against this many, there was little he and Zoe could do.

A woman with short blonde hair appeared from the shattered remains of a storefront nearby, clutching an armful of emerald-coloured printed circuit boards, and for a moment Duran thought his eyes must have been
deceiving him.  As she moved closer, he realised they were not.

He knew this woman.

“Jovanovic?” he said, incredulous, recognising her as their former colleague from Scimitar.

The woman stopped in her tracks, shocked by the sound of his voice.

“Duran?” she said.  Her eyes moved beyond him.  “Zoe!”  Her surprise turned to delight, and she smiled warmly.  “Thank fuck, you made it out of the Reach!”

“Jo,” Zoe said, returning the smile.  The two embraced.  “Good to see you, too.  Where’s de Villiers?”

“He’s here in Link, not far away.  We got out before things really went to hell.”

“I guess you were right, in the end,” Zoe said.  “We should have gone with you.”

“What about your mark?” Jovanovic said to Duran.  “Did you get the job done?”

“Not exactly,” Duran said ruefully.  “We found him, but… he made it off-world.”

“How did he manage that, exactly?” Jovanovic said, puzzled.

“Long story,” Zoe said.  “Let’s just say it’s complicated.”

Jovanovic shrugged.  “Whatever.  So what now?”

“We’re going to find my father,” Duran said.  “He lives not far from here.”  He glanced down at the circuit boards in Jovanovic’s arms.  “What about you?”

“Getting supplies for our journey.”

“Huh?” Zoe said.  “Where are you going?”

“De Villiers has some friends here in Link who are getting out of town.  They’ve been fixing up an old shuttle down in the underground transit station at Nix Junction.  They’re going to use it to get out of
here.”

“So why do you need the circuit boards?” Duran said.

Jovanovic glanced down at her loot.  “Repairs for the shuttle.  It hasn’t been used in a couple of decades, so we’re in need of a few circuit boards.  We’re hoping to have it fixed and ready to go by the morning.”

“You’re just stealing that stuff?” Duran said.  “I know the old man who used to run this place.”

“It’s not like I could pay for it.  The vendors have all cleared out.”  She sighed and raised an eyebrow at him.  “Pull the stick out of your ass, Duran.  Either I take it, or one of these deadheads will.”

Zoe placed a placating hand on his chest to stall the argument.  “Where are you going?” she said to Jovanovic.

“A little coastal place called Ayre.  De Villiers said the track terminates out that way.”

“Why there?”

“Apparently the soil is better there.  Less toxic.”

Zoe looked at her doubtfully.  “People have been saying shit like that for years, Jo.  You really believe it?”

“Who knows?  Maybe.”

“It’s a myth.  Probably worse than here.”
Zoe said.

“Look, Zoe.  The only thing I know for sure is that this place is going up in flames.  This time next week, there probably won’t even be a city here.  Just rubble and people starving to death.  I
don’t know if taking a shuttle out into the lowlands is the answer, but staying here sure as hell isn’t.”

“I guess,” Zoe said.

Jovanovic looked at each of them in turn.  “Why don’t you come with us?  De Villiers can probably get you both a seat on the shuttle.”

“De Villiers?” Duran said.  “I didn’t exactly get along with him.”

“He can probably be persuaded,” Jovanovic said.

“No, we’re fine,” Duran said.  He glanced over his shoulder.  “We should keep moving.”

“Zoe?” Jovanovic said hesitantly.

Zoe seemed to think it over for a moment.  “No,” she said eventually.  “I’m going to stick with this crazy bastard for now.  But thanks for the offer.”

“Okay.”  Jovanovic seemed disappointed, smiling weakly.  “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”  Zoe stuck out a hand.  “Good luck, Jo.”

“You too.”

Past the market, they continued to weave their way along the street, and Duran began to feel uneasy for the first time.  Up until now he’d been trying not to think about what they might find once they reached his father’s house.  Now, seeing neighbourhood buildings on fire,
looted and deserted, he couldn’t stop his mind from playing out gruesome scenarios – images of his father lying on the kitchen floor, covered in blood, and worse.

He knew that there was every chance that the old man had fallen victim to the looters, but he wasn’t about to turn back now.  He had to keep going.  He had to know.

They turned onto Maunder Avenue, and the scene did not improve.  The street that had once been lined by suburban homes was now vastly transformed into something out of a war zone, with many houses reduced to ash and others containing ragged tears where windows and front doors used to be.  Duran’s pace quickened at the sight of it, and his eyes locked onto a point not far away.

“There it is, come on.”

“Alec, maybe you don’t want to see–”

“
Come on
, Zoe.  I’m not turning back now.”

They sprinted along the rubble-strewn street, causing a group of youths who had been loitering around the place to scatter in alarm.  Duran ignored them, skipping up onto the sidewalk and then proceeding across the wispy brown grass that passed for a front lawn in Link.  As he neared the house he finally slowed, masking his movements across the driveway and up to the entrance.

The front door was wide open, having been almost knocked off its hinges.  Duran paused there, his shoulder to the door
frame as he listened.

There were noises coming from inside.  Voices.

Duran drew his .38, indicating for Zoe to head around the back of the house.  He waited a few moments, then began to move inside.

22

Talia found herself staring at a blank wall without any idea of how she got there.

She pushed up from the floor and regretted it immediately.  Her head spun and she felt like throwing up.  Distantly, she could hear voices and a scraping, thumping noise, but these were coming to her in an indistinct, muted fashion, as if unseen hands had clamped themselves around her head to dampen the noise.

What the fuck–?
she thought, but then her memory returned.

The dirigible.  We were going down.

She turned and saw the pilot’s seat not far away, realised she was no longer in it.  She grunted with the effort of hauling herself back toward it, knowing that they were doomed if she didn’t guide them toward the ground, but as she stood, she realised there was no longer any point in doing that.

It was already over.  They were on the ground.

She looked about, dazed.  The gondola was lyi
ng on bare soil, tilted at a 45-
degree angle, while the envelope sat billowing off to one side, now loose and deflated, misshapen in its death throes.  Talia looked at the pilot’s seat and saw that the aged, rotten straps had been severed.  She began to piece it all together as her memory returned.  They’d plummeted through the sky, the tear in the envelope becoming larger and larger, until the aerodynamics of the airship had become irrevocably compromised.  In the end, they had been moving too fast, and there had been little response from the controls.  The part where they’d hit the ground was still a little hazy, but obviously when the straps in the pilot’s seat had snapped, she’d been thrown against the side of the gondola and hit her head.

It had been a messy piece of work, but the main thing was that she was still alive.  Somehow.

She turned to see the others moving about the gondola, and a quick headcount told her that they had escaped without loss.  Silvestri was in the process of helping a limping Roman to disembark, while Gernot and his men were gathering up their belongings, battered and bruised but still in one piece.

“One hell of a piece of flying,” Silvestri remarked to her, leaving Roman’s side to stand before her.  Without warning, he wound his arms around her and gave her a rough hug.  “I don’t think I’ll ever know how you got us down alive, but I’m glad you did.”

“Yeah, it’s a fuckin’ miracle,” Gernot said sourly, holding out an arm while Norrey bound it with a cloth.  “I think you managed to break my goddamn arm.”

“At least it wasn’t your neck,” Silvestri said.  He drew back and held a calloused hand to Talia’s cheek.  “You continue to amaze.”

“Stop it,” she said, embarrassed.  “I almost got us all killed.”

“Hey,” Roman said from where he stood beside the flapping envelope, staring off into the distance.  “I think I see something out there.”

The others twigged to the urgency in his voice, and all previous conversations stopped.  They climbed out of the gondola and stepped onto the grainy soil of the lowlands.  Talia was
immediately struck by how dark the sky
had become – minutes before, at the higher altitude afforded by the dirigible, they’d been floating on strong sunlight, but down here at ground level it was a much different story.  The gloom of twilight had well and truly set in, and the landscape was shrouded in darkness around them.

Then Talia saw what had caught Roman’s eye.

Off in the distance, a cluster of flickering yellow lights wavered across the plain, and Talia thought she could hear the sound of something out there rumbling as the breeze swept across the ruined dirigible.

“We have company,” Norrey said.

“Shit, what next?” Gernot said, disgusted.

“Raiders, no doubt,” Silvestri said.  “Scavengers.  They’d have seen the dirigible dropping out of the sky.  They’ll want to find out what she was carrying, and whom, to see if there’s anything of value worth taking.”