Tube Riders, The (47 page)

Chapter Fifty-Six

Trap

Darkness had completely fallen by the time the Governor’s car led the way up the dirt track to the old tunnel entrance. Dreggo confirmed one of the Tube Riders had been inside, but his scent trail was freshest leading back away down the track, the way they had come. Earlier they had caught the rest of the Tube Riders’ scents heading into a small village a few miles back down the valley. Clayton had wanted to follow them and flush them out, but the Governor had decided it would be far more rational to lie in wait for them near the tunnel entrance. If they survived the Mistakes they would come eventually, he reasoned, and if the Tube Riders didn’t survive, well, so be it.

‘We set up camp back in the trees,’ the Governor told Clayton by radio. ‘Dreggo will have the Huntsmen patrol the area and await the Tube Riders’ approach. My guess is they will come early in the morning, at first light. There is a good chance they will be on foot, so have your men set up sniper positions from the hill above the entrance and in the trees. Remember, no one is to shoot unless on my command. I want them inside the tunnel, where they can’t get out. Get the doors open and see if the lights still work.’

He clicked the radio off and turned to Dreggo. ‘Soon, very soon, things will be back on track and we can get back to running this country.’

Dreggo nodded. Part of her was sick of the countryside and wanted to return to London, while another part was aching to spill the blood of the Tube Riders. The feeling of her fingers breaking open Karmski’s neck returned, and the deliciously euphoric sensation she remembered made her shudder. It would happen again with the Tube Riders, especially the bitch and the little fuck with the bad eye. Then they could go home.

‘Give your commands to the Huntsmen, Dreggo,’ the Governor said. ‘I want the Tube Riders inside the tunnel. The Huntsmen are only to kill them if they come out. Anyone else, though, should be killed immediately. No errors this time.’

‘Yes, sir. Consider it done.’ She quickly established a mind link with the Huntsmen. She could feel their frustration at the long, bumpy journey, and their desire to kill and feast. Now was a time to be wary of them, she knew, because they were liable to disobey her commands if they didn’t do either soon. She warned them, told them to keep themselves alert. One, though, was missing.

Lyen?
she sent the link personally to his neuro-frequency.
Where are you?

Yes…

Are you all right?

Yes…

She felt the Huntsmen being released from the truck under the supervision of their handlers.
Don’t stray far,
she told him.

No … stay close
.

You are worried?

No…

You will see the girl soon enough
.

Girl…

Be patient
.

Patient…

She closed the link. He was all right. Showing him the photograph of his sister had been risky, but there was still a chance the knowledge could be useful. If the Tube Riders tried to escape, they might be able to force the girl to give up the memory card in return for her brother’s life. The net was closing, this time for good.

#

Lyen looked around as the other Huntsmen were released from their bonds. One or two snapped at the handlers, but most were calm, aware of their orders and ready.

He slipped into the trees, planning to do a circuit of the clearing and then patrol the area up on the hill. The remaining human part of his mind really wanted to see the ocean. His eyes were good in the dark, and the moon was out, which would help. But, orders were orders.

Or were they?
The image of his sister flashed in his mind, and he remembered the moment they had crossed her scent trail and then left it behind. He could go to her now, could see her again, couldn’t he? After all, they were searching for her, because she had done something wrong.

She had to be killed.

Didn’t she?

Lyen cocked his head.
Lyen
, Dreggo had called him just now. But his name was Leo.
Leo Banks
.

Lyen was a Huntsman, ordered to ensure the deaths of the Tube Riders. But he was also Leo Banks, brother of Marta, the Tube Rider. Leo Banks had been a Tube Rider too, he remembered now. He had been a Tube Rider and a brother. He was no longer a Tube Rider, but he was still a brother.

Were brothers supposed to kill their sisters?

Lyen was a Huntsman.

Leo Banks was Marta Banks’s brother.

Which one was he? Which one was he supposed to be?

He realised he had walked further into the woods than he had planned. The fence was nearby; he could smell the metal on the wind. Beyond it was the dirt road which they had come up.

That road led back to Marta’s scent. Marta, the Tube Rider and his sister. His target, and his kin. If he followed that road he could find her.

Lyen could kill her.

Leo could love her.

Who was he?

The fence was behind him now. The dirt trail was dark and silent, the night not even broken by the screams of the Mistakes they had been hearing for the last few hours. None of them came here, but there would be Mistakes where Marta was now. Mistakes would try to kill her.

Marta, his sister.

Lyen could kill Mistakes, he could protect her.

Leo could kill Mistakes, he could protect her.

Lyen.

Leo.

Which was he?

Lyen was a Huntsman. Leo was Marta’s brother.

Lyen was Leo.

Leo was Lyen.

They were one and the same.

Marta was in danger.

Leo moved into a slow jog as he headed down the dirt track. Within a few hundred yards, he had broken into a full run.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Goodbyes

John Reeder’s death had hung heavily on all of them as they sat together in the basement of the old police station, now converted into a safe house of sorts. The last sounds of the battle above had died down some time ago, as the villagers found cover and the Mistakes lost interest and headed back into the forest. Owen and Carl had fallen into an uneasy sleep, the toil harder on the younger ones than the others, and Ishael knew Carl blamed himself for firing the gun. Ishael blamed himself for giving the order, but as Jin had told them, when the Mistakes came, they came, it was only ever a question of how many.

Jess, unwilling to speak to anyone, had gone off with Paul to help care for the wounded on an upper floor, leaving Marta and Ishael alone. After a while, Marta had fallen asleep, and Ishael had gone off to speak to Jin.

The man’s face was blood-stained from the fight. Sitting on a metal chair, he was wiping himself down with a towel when Ishael approached.

‘I’m sorry,’ Ishael said, taking a seat beside him. ‘I’m sorry we brought them down on your town.’

Jin shrugged. ‘It happens often. Each time we lose a few more. It’s the children we try to keep safe.’

Ishael looked at the man’s arms, at the metal implants that bulged under his skin.

‘Is Lucy all right?’

Jin smiled. ‘I got word that she made it to another safe house. She can take care of herself better than I can.’

Ishael could resist no longer. ‘Why do you fight each other? After all, you’re all…’

‘Mistakes?’

‘Uh, yeah.’

‘Why do white humans fight black humans?’ Jin said. ‘Or humans of one nation fight another? They’re a lot more similar than we are to some of them out there.’

Ishael sighed. ‘It’s how the world is I guess.’

Jin nodded. ‘We’re all government rejects,’ he said. ‘But all of us are different. Back when that fence first went up and the first dumps were made, those of us that maintained a level of rationality banded together. We called ourselves the Free Folk. We made camps, joined with other groups, and eventually made settlements. We repaired houses, planted our own crops, even managed to find a few stray cows which we bred into small herds. We built generators, got the power back on. Together we rediscovered our humanity, but we can never forget what happened to each of us. We are reminded of that every day, when the Mistakes who are too far gone, those we call the Wildmen, wander into the village, or attack us like they did tonight. But we are free now, and we are the lucky ones, the ones able to rebuild. Not all of the people taken by the government were as lucky as us. Many of them are mindless and destructive, more animal than man. They attack us at random. Anything can set them off, a shout, a cry, a closing door.’

‘How do you survive?’

‘Any way we can.’

‘And the children? Were they failed experiments too?’

‘Some of the older ones. The younger ones, though, they’re ours.’

Ishael was surprised. It obviously showed in his face, because Jin said, ‘Not all of us can, but there are more than you might think who can still carry out normal human functions. Like childbirth.’ He dipped the towel into a bucket of water at his feet. ‘One of my children – Brete – was dumped here as a Mistake. The other, Tom, is ours by birth.’

‘That’s wonderful.’

‘It’s a life many of us never thought we’d have.’

Ishael was silent for a moment. He dipped a rag of his own into the bucket, and mopped his own face.

‘I’m sorry about your friend,’ Jin said.

‘Reeder … he was a good man. I didn’t know him very well, but he gave up everything he had to help us.’

‘Then that makes him as good a man as any.’

‘You’re right about that.’ Ishael sighed. ‘Thank you for what you did for us. We’d all be dead now if it wasn’t for you.’

‘We’re wary of anyone we don’t know,’ Jin said. ‘Wildmen come into our village in many guises. But we haven’t lost our humanity.’

‘I’m afraid we might bring worse down on you,’ Ishael said, and briefly recounted what had happened. ‘We have to get to Lizard Point,’ he said. ‘There’s a tunnel there that we can take that will hopefully take us under the Channel to France. We have evidence that could bring war to Mega Britain, and with it, freedom.’

‘While I don’t envy the war, I think everyone wants freedom.’ Jin was thoughtful for a moment. Then he said, ‘We have vehicles. We can take you up to Lizard Point at first light. Before then it’s dangerous to go outside. The Mistakes tend to calm down a little more during daylight.’

‘What about the Huntsmen?’

Jin smiled. ‘How many did you say there were? Ten? Fifteen? Don’t worry about them. The Redman can deal with them.’

‘The Redman … you mean that giant?’

‘He might look fearsome, but his mind is mostly human. In return for the care we give him, he protects us.’ Jin smiled. ‘There are some pretty dangerous Wildmen behind the Fence, but
nothing
is a match for a raging Redman. Not Huntsmen, not the Governor himself even.’

‘That’s a bold statement.’

‘One you might agree with after seeing him in action.’

Ishael considered. ‘He looked powerful, for sure. But against an organised assault, he’d be just another monster waiting to be tied down.’

Jin cocked his head, still smiling. ‘The Redman is far more intelligent than you give him credit for. A group of Redmen could bring down the government.’

Ishael listened carefully. In his mind, plans began to form. ‘It’s a shame you don’t have more of them.’

Jin looked regretful. ‘There are others about. One of the problems with Redmen is that they’re territorial. When the government filled those babies with growth hormones and animal genes and whatever else, they accidentally put in something that makes them fight each other. The government found that out the first time they tried to use them, which is why the survivors got dumped in here.’

‘Unfortunate.’

‘It is. But our scientists are working on it.’

‘You have scientists?’

‘When you spend the best years of your life as a damn lab rat, it’s not surprising many people want to know what happened to them. Our technology is primitive, built up from nothing. There are other towns with bigger projects going on, but travel is pretty difficult because of the Wildmen. We have few working cars, and a rail line we tried to put down suffered from constant attacks.’ He shrugged. ‘But we’re getting there.’

Ishael sat back in his chair. It was a like a microcosm of social evolution happening right under the government’s nose. The government was throwing away its scientific detritus and that detritus was building itself up into a functioning society, one that was developing awareness and strength. One that could be a huge asset in the event of a war.

‘Do you go beyond the Fence?’ he asked.

‘There are some tunnels. But like I say, it’s difficult to travel safely. For every rationally functioning near-human that gets put inside, there are five Wildmen. Most of the good men don’t make it as far as the towns, though we try to keep a watch on the main depositing points as much as we can.’ He stared at Ishael for a few seconds. ‘Life is hard here, don’t get me wrong. But from what I remember, it’s not that great on the other side of that fence, either.’

Ishael said, ‘Back in Bristol I was the leader of the Underground Movement for Freedom. We have guns, and men. If your men can be organised into a fighting machine, then we can be ready to strike from inside if help comes from Europe.’

Jin laughed. ‘You have grand ideas, my friend, and believe me, we’d like nothing more than to see that bastard cut down from his perch.’

Ishael said the words before he really understood what he was saying: ‘I can help you. The UMF’s network is far-reaching. We have small outposts in most of the major UAs.’

Jin smiled. ‘You’d leave the girl for us?’

‘Who…?’ But Ishael knew he meant Marta. Staying would mean letting her go alone. He didn’t know what might happen between them, but if he stayed behind he might never see her again.

Ishael stood up and walked away, going to a window and peering out into the night. A couple of dim streetlamps burned in the square, but it was otherwise empty.

Could he leave her?

He had grown up a revolutionary, living in tunnels and in basements, attics and sewers. Everyone he’d ever loved was dead, and for as long as he could remember his life had centred on ways to remove the oppression in Mega Britain. Ways to bring down the government. Here, among these people, these Free Folk, he’d found another link, another wedge that if sharpened could be driven into Mega Britain’s charred and polluted heart. But if he stayed behind to help shape it, he would be giving up someone who had come to mean a lot to him over the last few days.

Leaving Jin to finish cleaning up, Ishael went out and back down to the basement room. He went inside and closed the door. Marta was awake, sitting back against the wall, staring at the floor.

‘Hey,’ he said, sitting down beside her and taking her hand.

‘I’m so tired,’ she said. ‘I just can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes I just see death. Everywhere.’

‘John Reeder was brave,’ Ishael said. ‘And so was Simon. This thing is almost over. A few more hours and you’ll be through that tunnel into France.’

She was weary, but she caught his words immediately. ‘You said ‘you’, Ishael. You’re not coming, are you?’

She was astute. You had to be to survive in Mega Britain, but still she impressed him.

He took her chin in his hand and bent her head towards him. He pushed a dread of hair away from her eyes, and stroked the side of her face. ‘Marta…’

‘Damn you, Ishael.’

‘Marta … I…’

She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed him away. ‘Why do you have to
stay?
’

‘I can help them get organised. I can make them into an army. When you bring men from Europe we can strike from inside too.’

‘Why can’t they do that for themselves? Why do you have to
leave
me?’

‘We’ll see each other again,’ he said, hoping his words sounded sure.

‘No, we won’t! It’ll be just like when Simon fell from that fucking train! Over! You’ll die, or I’ll die or…’ Her voice trailed off as he pulled her close. She sobbed as he kissed her, his bruises smarting but his lips desperate, his tongue searching. She melted into him, crying as she pulled the blanket over them.

‘Don’t leave me,’ she cried, tears streaming down her face as she pulled his hands around her body and slipped her own hands under his clothes.

#

Ishael was sleeping quietly beside her when Marta woke. She looked down at him, naked under the blanket, and she felt tears well up in her eyes again. Angrily, she brushed them away and climbed to her feet, pulling her own clothes back on, the dampness of old sweat unpleasant on her skin.

She needed some air, and she needed to be alone. Too much was going through her head.

She went outside, closing the door quietly behind her. She went up the stairs, past other rooms where people were sleeping or talking in hushed tones. She saw Owen and Carl sleeping inside an old cell, a couple of other people lying down beside them.

At the top of the stairs the main door was open. Two men stood guard, peering out into the night.

‘Is it safe?’ she asked. ‘I need some air.’

The Wildmen have gone,’ one guard said. ‘We’ve checked the perimeters and secured the town, but a lot of people like to stay inside the safe houses, just in case.’

‘If you go outside just don’t make any noise,’ the other added. ‘Don’t stray too far from the safe house.’

‘Sure, no problem.’

She stepped out into the square, immediately letting out a tiny gasp as she found the huge Redman sitting just outside, leaning back against an old monument. He watched her through big eyes, his chest rising and falling with slow breaths. He was even more impressive at rest, close to three times her height, his legs and arms as thick as tree trunks, his fingers alone almost the length of her arms.

They watched each other. Marta noticed blood on the Redman’s waistcoat.

‘Are you hurt?’ she asked.

The Redman’s table-sized head rocked slowly back and forth. ‘A couple of scratches,’ he said, in a deep voice that was surprisingly human. ‘Always, just a couple of scratches. They can’t hurt Redman.’

‘I’m happy you’re safe.’

‘I’m hungry.’

Marta smiled. ‘Me too.’ She nodded to the left, towards a quiet street that was well lit, heading up towards what looked like a smaller square with a water fountain. ‘I just need a little walk. It’s been a long day.’

The Redman nodded. ‘Keep eyes open. Be safe.’

‘Thank you.’

Marta headed off, a thousand conflicting thoughts buzzing through her head like flies, and just for a moment she wished they would all clear off long enough for her to enjoy the moonlit night and the peace of what had once been a tranquil little country town.