Authors: Ross Harrison
The pistol still
weighted down my hand. The world weighted down my shoulders more. I thumbed the
hammer back into place. Decided to keep it out for now though.
There was nothing
more here for me. Nothing at all here for me, actually. Just an empty prison
cell and the lingering scent of despair.
A creak in the
hallway! I spun to the door. Brought up my gun and flicked the safety catch off
in one move. A pale figure stood in the doorway. I heard a quick gasp. A woman.
I opened my mouth to speak but she turned and ran. A flash of lightning lit her
as she disappeared. Lit a thin, fresh scar behind her ear.
I didn’t move as quickly
as I should have. The relief of not being shot and the surprise of seeing the
girl again froze me for a few seconds. Had she been following me since
DeMartino let me go? Or just from The Web? I thought back to the diner. She’d
been staring out the window. Just like me. Just like me, she’d been staring at
Webster’s club. I had to catch her.
The flashes of
lightning didn’t help my speed. They were so abrupt and short-lived that they
had the effect of making me think I was a foot to the side. Like strobe lights.
I aimed for the door and nearly ran into the damn wall.
The door at the top
of the stairs was just closing. I ripped it open, making a mental note not to
touch that hand to my face, and raced down the steps. Three sets of stairs took
more out of me than I expected and I flagged a little. I tripped on the bottom
step. Saved myself from falling by hitting the door with my face.
The girl was just
about to pull the front door open.
‘Stop.’ I didn’t
need to shout. It was a small lobby. I clicked back the hammer for emphasis. I
wasn’t going to shoot her, but it stood more chance of making her stop than
just my words.
She froze. Didn’t
move. I realised she was looking at my reflection in the glass door.
‘You?’ She was
surprised. Slowly, she turned. ‘I thought it was one of his up there.’
‘Webster’s? Not me.
But you know that. How do you know that?’
She studied my
face. Didn’t even glance at the gun, which I realised I was pointing at her. I
decocked it and lowered it to my side again.
Her trench coat
wasn’t just like mine. It was mine. When I’d woken up in Webster’s car, I
wasn’t wearing it. I remembered now. They must have taken it off me. Must have
made me easier to handle or something. So my trench coat was last at the police
precinct. Now it was on her.
‘It was you that told
the cops I didn’t kill the girl, wasn’t it?’ I asked.
She considered her
answer. Nodded eventually. ‘It wasn’t. I had proof.’ She spoke like it was the
obvious conclusion to that equation. I guessed it was to someone not accustomed
to Harem.
‘Thanks.’
‘Are you trying to
find her killer?’
‘I’m mostly trying
to find a way to stop the cops from sticking needles in me. But I guess the way
to do that is to find out what the hell’s going on. Why are you here?’
The whining of a
car between the thunderclaps made her turn. The car passed on by.
‘I hoped there
might be proof here.’
‘Proof of what?’
Light flashed on
her face. No thunder followed. It wasn’t lightning. The light had flashed
across from the side. It was the car turning and switching off its headlights.
Webster’s men.
The girl realised
it too. Started panicking. Looked at my gun like she wanted to grab it. She
pulled at the door instead of pushing it.
‘Harold Jarvis,’
she blurted, as she finally got the door open. ‘Find Harold Jarvis.’
I reached for her
arm. Didn’t want her to run out into a bullet. But she slipped through the door
and took off down the street. I heard a shout. They seemed to be after her as
well. I flicked the safety off again and pulled the hammer back. I wasn’t going
to let her get killed or taken. She knew something.
I went for the
door. The glass shattered and I dived backwards. Three more bullets whizzed
through the opening. Slammed into the wall. They were followed by a guy in a
mid-range suit. Definitely one of Webster’s.
I squeezed the
trigger. And again. Both shots hit him. As he fell, I stood. With the glass
gone, the next clap of thunder was nearly deafening. I could feel it in my
chest. With my gun trained to the right hand side of the door, I crossed to the
left. There was no one in sight. I could just see one headlamp of the car. There
was bound to be someone else out there.
A gunshot echoed
down the street just before another clap of thunder. The other one had gone
after the girl. Must have run past as I was hitting the floor. I carefully
stepped through the doorframe. The car was empty and no one was around.
I put the safety
back on and shoved the gun down the back of my waistband again. Grabbed the
goon’s pistol. The car key was in his jacket pocket.
The car wasn’t the type
to need a bio scan of any kind. It knew I had the key and started at the touch
of a button. The comfortable seats weren’t so comfortable with my soaking
clothes, but I barely noticed it. I threw the car into drive and kicked down
the gas. With a jerk, the car rocketed forward.
Just before the
last building on the block, an alley swallowed up even the light from the
storm. I hoped she hadn’t gone down there. It probably snaked around all the
buildings on the block. She might have a chance of losing the goon, but she’d
lose me too. Then I couldn’t help her. And she couldn’t help me.
Another gunshot. A
dull flash. She was in the alley. I could just make out the pale shape of my
trench coat. It seemed to flash every now and then. That was the goon right
behind her. Still chasing her. She was good at dodging bullets at least.
I took the chance
that she’d run straight through to the next street. Put my foot down again. As
soon as the street opened up to the left, a gust of wind hit the side of the
car. The static thrusters on the right stabilised it, but not before I felt a
thump and heard the scream of metal on metal. The streetlight flickered as I
forced the car away from it and head-on into the gale.
The storm was bad.
Worse than I’d thought. The buildings blocked most of the wind, but what got
through was enough. Parked cars had drifted from the kerb. I had to swing
around two blocking the way. You weren’t meant to drive these things in high
wind. Made me wish I had Webster’s own car, with the nice, road-gripping
wheels.
When I swung around
the next corner, the sudden cut in wind caught the thrusters by surprise. They
were so busy trying to counteract it that when it disappeared, they threw me
halfway across the street.
Worse: no girl. She
hadn’t cut straight through to this street. Couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t the
wisest thing to do with a gun on your tail.
A gunshot up ahead
was chased by a second. I saw the dim flash again. It had come from the next
alley down, halfway along the block. I gunned it towards that alley. The girl
burst out and around the corner.
It only took about
five seconds for Webster’s goon to follow. It was dark in the alley. There’d be
things there to get in his way. Block his shots. Out here, he’d have no trouble
hitting her. I was too far away. I’d hoped to get there in time to slam him
against the wall with my fender.
The goon ran a few
steps after the girl, but stopped. As he raised his gun, I blasted the horn. It
startled both of them. They both turned. They both raised pistols. Only one of
them was pointed through my windshield. That one never had a chance to fire.
The homeless girl
was a good aim. Even from a quarter of a block away, and out of breath, she hit
the goon with one shot. She fired four.
I pulled up beside
her. She hesitated for a second, but ran round the trunk and climbed in. I
swung the car around and accelerated. More gently this time. I didn’t want to
be anywhere near when the cops turned up, but the more calmly I acted the
quicker the girl would calm down. She still gripped the revolver tightly.
‘You escaped from
the precinct, didn’t you?’ I said.
She shrugged. ‘I
wasn’t under arrest. I wouldn’t call it escaping.’
‘You’ve got my coat
and a gun. They just give them to you as you were walking out?’
‘Well I guess it
was kind of escaping once I’d taken those.’
‘It’s empty, you
know.’
‘What?’ She looked
at me. Something in her eyes told me she thought I was going to say something
philosophical. Maybe she thought I meant her future was empty, or her search
for answers, or whatever.
‘The gun. No
bullets left.’ I nodded at the chamber. The pin in each bullet casing was gone.
I guessed the two I couldn’t see, on the top and the bottom, could still be
there, but I doubted it. She’d fired four times outside the alley. I was sure
she’d have fired inside it too.
‘Oh. I know. Still
feels good to hold.’ I nodded. I knew what she meant. Someone had just tried to
kill her. She’d have felt naked without the gun. Bullets or no. ‘You may have
just saved my life, Mr. Mason.’ She knew my name.
‘You may have saved
mine.’
I meant it in more
way than one.
‘Where are we
going?’ She was starting to come around from the otherworldly effects of a
chase and shootout. Becoming aware of her surroundings.
‘I don’t know. Just
away from there, for now. We can’t go to my place and I don’t know where’s safe
from the guy who owns the entire town.’
‘He’s really that
powerful here?’
‘Well he owns most
of the cops, a lot of businesses pay him off, and none of the dealers around
here have the kind of connections to bring drugs to the planet, so I figure
that’s got to be him too. He got even more rich and powerful right around the
time that new drug appeared. The pretty blue one.’
She sat quietly for
a while. Despite her appearance, something told me she wasn’t simply homeless. I
had a client once. Her husband had been murdered. She wanted me to find the
killer so she could take revenge. She’d had the same fire in her eyes as this
girl had now. It unnerved me. Meant she was dangerous and unpredictable. That
wasn’t good for me. I’d have to watch my step around her. Not because she might
attack me. No, one half-starved twenty-something didn’t scare me in that way. But
there was no telling what she’d do and say to get what she wanted. What she
needed.
‘You told the cops
it wasn’t me because you thought I could help you.’ I didn’t bother making it a
question.
She shrugged again.
‘I think you
already knew that Webster owns the cops. So you came looking for a PI. Someone
he might not own.’
‘Not quite. I went
looking for Leonne.’ I made my glance a question. ‘The girl you took into your
bed last night. Or did you think she was just a nameless plaything?’ That’s
exactly what I meant. She could take anything the wrong way and I needed her on
my side.
‘Take it easy. She
never told me her name, that’s all.’
‘And you never asked.’
Why did everyone keep saying that?
‘Look…’ I took a
deep breath. Took a sad, reluctant glance out my window. Perhaps a sob story
would help. ‘Ever since my girlfriend disappeared, I can’t bring myself to make
any connection with a girl—’
‘Save it.’
‘What?’
‘Save your cry baby
bullshit. That cop said you killed your girlfriend. Maybe you did, maybe you
didn’t. I don’t know or care. You can help me. And you have to help me, because
it’s the only way to help yourself.’
I wasn’t sure how
to respond to that. So I stayed quiet.
I had to keep the
lights down low. Otherwise I couldn’t see a damn thing. Only shining raindrops
flying at me like so many bullets. If the night kept on down this path, they’d
be bullets soon enough.
Up ahead I could
just make out the tunnel through the rain. The east side of Harem was a few
dozen feet higher than the west. This tunnel went under the train line, then up
into the gambling district. Owned by Webster. Pretty stupid move coming this
way, but I hadn’t been thinking about destination.
I slowed. Didn’t
want to get into that district too soon. I could see the shape of the train
sitting up there. It was the train that went out to Webster’s mining operation.
Then on to Anshan prison. The sight should have been a kick to the gut. But my
gut was preoccupied. A kind of nervous hope bubbling away there. Sitting beside
me was a girl who knew something. She’d already given me a name. How helpful
that was I didn’t know. But it was more than I’d had before. And now she was
here herself. Now she could tell me about this Harold Jarvis.
Jarvis. Was that
whom the ‘J’ in Webster’s address book was referring to? Maybe it wasn’t a
staff position after all, but a person.
The rain gushed out
of the entrance to the tunnel as though from the bottom of a drainpipe. It was
washing down through from the east side of town. The darkness swallowed us up
and I flicked the lights onto full beam. The blue glow from the static
thrusters lit the water they kicked up on either side in a pretty light show.
‘So who is Harold
Jarvis? Why do you want me to find him?’
‘If you’d bothered
to ask her name, you’d know.’
I wasn’t going to get
into that again. I was about to ask the girl more when I saw light at the end
of the tunnel. Literally.
It was too bright
to be the ambient glow from the gambling houses and streetlights. It was a car.
No, two cars. Sitting still. Waiting. The lights were blazing right into my
eyes, which meant they were on the slope.
In
the
tunnel. Two cars blocking the end of the tunnel, waiting for me and the girl.
I slammed on the brakes.
The girl wasn’t prepared for it. Barely caught herself before she hit the dash.
The angry glance turned to worry as she followed my eyes. We were only halfway
through. Just at the start of the slope. The roof of the tunnel had already
opened up into the slope and that’s when the lights had come into view.