Whisper Gatherers (12 page)

In the clear that ensued five males stood wearing dark metal helmets, with blacked-out visors, so that we could not see their faces. They were dressed in all-in-one green troo suits, with a big wide belt around the middle that housed a whole host of small knives and guns. In their hands, they carried large weapons. Still folk did not seem to comprehend their sudden appearance. I was about to yell, “Oy, strange, scary looking males have mysteriously arrived,” when they began to walk forward.

“Hey, ye, ye there, halt!” Dreng said.

They did not.

“Halt!”

When they did not, Orva and Dreng took out their thwacking sticks and held them out to menace the strangers.

“How the huffin’ hell did they get in?”

“This is not good. You must run home. Now!” Orva said, but before I could, the hostile males hoisted their great weapons to shoulder height. She shouted out, “Stand down or we will be forced to disarm you.”

They halted, dropped their weapons and cocked their heads to one side. A Citydweller fem pointed at me. “She is the Auger. Tell your Agro bosses. You can have her if you want.” Then she slapped her hand over her mouth and scuttled away. The other folk stared around not knowing what to do. The helmeted ones stood stiff like statues and I wondered if they were made of flesh at all.

I turned to Orva, who was wide of eye. “Are these Agros?”

“Must be. Or more likely, folk they have turned to do their bidding. It is said that Agros never leave their home and send others to do their filthy work. I confess to be more than puzzled by their appearance.”

Dreng shrugged his ample shoulders. “They do nay seem to ha purpose. Why stand there and do nowt when they possess such mean firearms. This is strange beyond strange.”

The weird Agros, if that is what they were, shuffled their feet in a dance-like manner then lifted their gun things again. “Enough of this,” Ova said. She produced a head protector from her arm pouch, Dreng did the same and they put them on. The soft hat things became solid when they hit flesh, fitting snugly onto their skull and forehead. When thusly shielded, they reached into their troo leg pockets, withdrew some kind of many-bladed knife, and ran full pelt towards the enemy. To my surprise all but one of the attackers turned and fled, just like that.

A swift silence descended.

The remaining Agro stood tall and said in a low gruff voice that I could almost feel, “More are coming. We now know who and where the Auger is, thanks to your free chatting friends.”

A cold wind stirred up and began to blow around the place. It became fierce. Gusty. So much so that all who remained in a trance-like state, were pushed backwards by the force of it. As it whooshed and swished, I swear I heard voices carried within it. Calling out individuals names, saying things like, “Morian, sea-born, waits for you. Cadwgan, the battle will rid you of your nearest ones. Adara, Deogol is not what he seems.” I held my breath and saw the Cityfolk cower. The wind eased.

“Dreng, race to Centralplaza. Raise the alarm.”

He legged it all swiftly to said place. Pushing past the folk that clung to each other, but did not move. In but a few secs the Curfew Bell sounded. With it came several other City S.A.N.T.S. who began to mingle with the a-feared residents, pointing in the direction of the Auditorium.

Normally the Curfew Bell would send folk legging it back to their homes, this time instead of the noise forcing them to flee, it brought them forth. As well as those already outside, I saw many other Citydwellers walking about in a confused manner. The S.A.N.T.S. could not budge them. Orva shook her head, ran towards said loons, and poked and pushed them, yelling, “Fools! What is wrong with you? Curfew Bell has sounded. To your homes, quickly!”

They bumped into each other, addled and shaken. Nowt Orva or the other City S.A.N.T.S. could say made them move. They wandered about the place not knowing what to do. Then a great light came on blinding us all. The lone Agro shouted, “Stay where you are. Do not try to stop us.” The light went out. The solo Agro lifted his weapon. The docile Cityfolk who knew nowt of fear or combat, stood or squatted, and let loose a most pitiful moan.

Orva stared at the intruder. “This is madness. Drop your weapon. You are alone here. We outrank you.”

“That we do,” Dreng said returning, and stood spread-legged, combat style. The other S.A.N.T.S. adopted the same stance.

“What do the Agros want?”

“I do nay know for sure. But they are adept at creating terror amongst folk.” Dreng wiped his mouth. The Agro pointed his gun at a mam carrying a bub. “What? Nay, they want to fire on kiddles too?”

“This is unacceptable,” Orva said and raced towards the shaking Agro.

“Watch out!” I shouted as the Agro thug attempted to shoot her. Dreng lunged upon her attacker allowing her to kick him in the nads, but not before he fired a round of something nasty into Dreng. He staggered backwards then stood tall. Orva ass-kicked the Agro scum. With a grunt, he limped away.

The terrified folk gradually began to retreat from the scene of almost carnage. I ran to Orva and flung my arms around her, she hugged me close, then very swiftly pushed me away when Dreng slumped-footed over to us. “The day is won,” he said then crumpled to the ground. She knelt by his side and felt his neck for a pulse.

“He lives, we must get to your home.”

“Not to a medi centre? We could call for a ‘ulance.”

“It would take too much time.” She turned to her fellow guards. “Do what you can to right things. I must take Dreng to a safe place. Adara, help me lift him.”

I took an arm, Orva another, and together we hoisted Dreng to a standing position. He grunted, opened his eyes and said, “I can manage, wi yer help.”

We supported his great bulk as he shuffled and wheezed all the way to the entrance to Puritytowers. When the doors whooshed open and the sanity spray washed over us, Dreng spluttered for a sec then shook us free. “I can walk unaided.”

“No, you cannot. Now is not the time for futile acts of bravery. Come, rest upon my shoulder. We will get you to Breanna’s quarters.”

He nodded. I ran to the elevator and punched the up button. The doors slid open and Orva hobbled in with Dreng, who all but hung onto her shoulders. I stood next to him, offered my arm, he took it and up we went. It was goodly indeed that our apartment was but seven strides from the lifting room, for Dreng began to waver. Orva and I had to almost carry him to the door. I banged upon it. It opened.

“Adara, good that you are safe. Ah, not so Dreng. Come inside quick. Tell of all that has occurred.”

Orva pulled Dreng back from the opened door. “Run in quick to take the blast of sanitary spray. I do not want him to inhale any more unnatural substances.”

I sneezed when I took the full force of the cleansing mist. Orva helped him through the door and Santy took over from holding him up. “I am needed without, I think,” Orva said. Santy nodded and Orva left us.

I closed the door. Santy near dragged Dreng into the living space and let him fall onto the comfy couch. He made an “Oof,” sound then lay still on his back.

“Ah, Addly, there you are, I was worried about you when all the fuss began.” I looked to the foodprep room. Greatgrangran stood in the doorway. “I heard a lot of shouting and wailing, but my game was more interesting so I went back to it. Didn’t hear a thing after that,” Greatgrangran said holding up a set of earhole enhancers. “Can’t hear nowt but the silly tunes and effects on my slab when I wear these things.” She walked in, took a swiftly look at Dreng and folded her arms. “Thought so. More fisticuffs. Such nonsense. What has occurred?”

There was a niggly feel in my nonce and an image of my bro entered my head, along with the wind words I’d heard in the plaza. “Grangran, where is Deogol?”

“Him? Sly little earwig. He is in his room, fingers near stuck to his comp pad. Oh, I asked what was what, but he scuttled past me all red of face and locked his door.”

“Up to who knows what.”

“Addy, why do you say that about your bro?”

I did not mean to blurt out my thoughts. Deogol was acting weirdo, though, but I wasn’t going to say anything that might get him into trouble with Santy, so I changed the subject instead. “Should we not attend to Dreng’s wounds?”

“I don’t like blood,” Greatgrangran said. “Let me know when he’s bandaged up. I’m going back to my game.” She turned and ambled back to Santy’s resting room.

“You’re right, we need to deal with Dreng. Go fetch the medikit from the cleansing area.”

“Will do.”

I went all quickly into the cleansingplace and opened the cupboard. In between reddy sponges and hairwash, were lots of Santy’s old Backpacker med supplies. I took out several swabs, packets of some kind of pain relief, various small objects, scissors, pincers, a wad of softwool and went back. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes, help me take off his jacket so that we might see where he is injured.”

Santy carefully lifted Dreng’s shoulders a bit so that I could pull his sleeves. He gave out a moan, fluttered his eyelids and stared at me. “Ye are undressing me?”

“What? Well, in a manner of speaking,” I said, then went redder than a ripe tomtom.

“Glad you have awoken. We need to get at your injuries. Try not to tease Addy so.”

He winked at me and through many sucks of air that ended in, “Ow, ouch, by the Greenman himself!” Dreng wriggled out of his slashed and dirty jacket.

A trickle of blood spread around his waist. “You are oozing from the side I think.”

He looked down and unbuttoned his shirt. This time Santy Breanna’s cheeks tinged pink. I guess Dreng noticed because he too, despite his pallor, went a bright shade of red. The comphone buzzed loudly, thus ending their embarrassment. Santy coughed and stood. “I’d better get that, might be urgent. Addy, tend to his wounds,” she said and left.

Smiling all false-like, I pulled apart his now blood-soaked under tunic. “Yeuk and then some. You have a jaggedy gash for sure. I think some of those vile Agro metal bits are lodged within.”

He winced when I touched the wound. “Ye have the skill to remove them?”

I scratched my noggin and was about to say, “Dunno, maybe, sort of,” when Santy strode in.
 

“That was the mayor.”

“He says what?”

“That we are to stay put until the all clear is sounded. There is no way of knowing whether or not more Agros are coming.”

“If they do come, I’ll defend ye and yers, do nay fear,” Dreng said trying to stand. He did not get very far and slumped back down with a splatter of blood. Santy frowned.

“He has stuff lodged in the injury that must come out,” I said.

“Go ahead. Get rid. I’ll hand you the wipes.”

“What? Me?”

“If you are to become a S.A.N.T. you must learn much about how to treat ailments, dress wounds and the like. We have done work on this, have we not?”

“Yep, but that was make believe, this is not.”

“All practice on the virtual puppets is of use. I’m sure you know what to do before delving into the real harm.”

Dreng stiffened. “Erm, Breanna, perhaps it may be more prudent for ye to…”

“Nonsense. I have every faith in Addy. She is a good pupil and has steady hands. Are you afraid to let her try?”

He squinted then stuck out his chin. “Afraid? Nay. Go to it lassie.”

“Are you sure?”

“Aye. Be quick.”

I gulped and looked to Santy. “You have to start somewhere. I shall assist.”

“Right, I’ll do it, but if I barf you’ll have to clean it up.”

She grinned.

I rummaged around the stuff I had brought in. I picked up a pair of tinytongs and blinked. Santy squirted some Sterispray on the wound. With a swift wipe from a cleansing swab, I delved in. With shaky fingers, I probed, gouged and yanked at the objects wedged in Dreng’s flesh. He yelped now again, but remained as still as he could. Through half-closed eyes and retching most severely, I pulled out eight sharp objects. The blood came out fast. Santy handed me some bungs and I quelled the flow as best I could.

“All gone?”

I peered into the large slash on Dreng’s waist.

“Yep.”

“Be certain. For if even a tiny sliver of that Agro weaponry is left behind, then a most severe infection will ensue.”

Puffing out my cheeks, I took in a deep breath, so did Dreng. With shaking fingers, I parted the wound. His muscles went into spasm. I quickly grabbed the lightfibre torch Santy held out. Swallowing hard, I searched the grizzly opening for signs of metal and the like. “All clean.”

Dreng relaxed. Santy gave me the softwool, bandages and tape.

“You will have to hold the pad in place so that I can secure it,” I said.

Santy held the swab against Dreng’s flesh with such tenderness that I almost blushed for them both. Ridding my skull of the picture of Santy and Dreng in a pash, I pressed Stickystrips all round the dressing, then indicated for Dreng to sit up a little so that I could wind the bandage around his middle. When I was done, I sat back on my knees and whistled through my teeth.

“Ye will make a good S.A.N.T. Adara, ye are brave and resourceful.”

“Thanks to Santy Breanna.”

Dreng sat upright. “Shame my tunic is of no use.”

Santy narrowed her eyes. “Here, hand it over. I’ll wash and dry it for you in a few secs.”

He lifted one side of his mouth and said all flirty-like, “Will ye help me undress then?”

With a raised eyebrow, Santy slowly peeled away his sodden under shirt.

Yeuk! Both were nearing oldie age and acting like juves. In front of me. I thought best to turn them from their lustful carryings on. “Right, well, I’ll take that. Slam it in the washpod, okay?” I said and grabbed the garment. As I sped into the foodprep room where said appliance was, I asked, “So, did the mayor have any suggestions as to why the Agros have come now?”

“No one knows for sure. Some think it is to do with you and your gift, whilst others believe it is something concerning the Praisebees.”

“I was named in front of them.”

“Ah, do not worry, there is more to this than your whereabouts I think.”