Breakout (9 page)

You cannot win.

9

Dead Man Walking

The trip back took a while, and Dred found the rest on edge when they slipped out of the panel. Vost filled them in on the plan while she tended to Jael as best she could. Fortunately, his wounds weren't deep, already sealing to what would look like a full day of healing in anyone else. Taking a seat, she waited for the first objection.

“Bullshit,” Duran said, irate at the idea of everyone's moving together.

Dred suspected he was also mourning his fallen comrade, but nothing would bring Redmond back. She sighed and tried to be patient. “I know it's a risk, but we can't afford to lose supplies. Once we get to the repair bay, we'll settle in and get the force fields up. We shouldn't need to leave again.”

The merc's eyes sparked with hate. “Mary, that figures. You don't care if we lose more people. But the gear—”

“That's enough,” Vost cut in.

“Right, because let's not talk about Redmond. Following her lead got the poor bastard killed. But sure, let's keep following her orders.”

The commander spoke quietly. “As it happens, I agree. Splitting up would be a poor move. Yes, we're more easily tracked as a larger group, but if they pick us off, we won't be able to survive long enough to assemble our means of escape. This is my last word.”

“Fine,” Duran muttered.

But Dred could tell he wasn't satisfied. There would be trouble from him down the line, dissent they could scarcely afford. Yet the clock was ticking. Silence wouldn't sit still long, not after all the havoc Jael had wreaked on her followers. Yesterday, after the carnage, they'd collected everything they needed from Ike's surviving caches. The one Tam and Martine had visited had been blown to smithereens, and at some point, Silence's people had raided the stash she and Vost found. That pissed her off, but there was nothing she could do about it. If the ship couldn't be completed without the converter—

Well, best not to worry about it now.

A little later, Keelah led the exodus from their hiding spot. It was a tense journey, and nobody said much as Dred crept through the ducts, hardly daring to breathe. This was the point where they were most vulnerable and the plan most likely to fall apart. Loaded down this way, arms full, it would be tough to defend against an ambush. Each scrape of feet against metal flooring seemed to echo, and her pulse pounded in her ears, not enough to block out enhanced hearing, so every hum and reverberation sent frissons of alarm through her.

Freezing, Keelah held up a hand, just before they had to leave the ducts for the last stage. The docking bay had come to feel like the Promised Land.
We'll find out soon enough if Vost has the codes like he promised.
Because without the override codes, they wouldn't be able to bypass the current security measures. While a bot 17's size might be able to get through the cracks somewhere, they couldn't without lowering the force fields.

Or maybe he only has departure codes for the external doors?
She wasn't sure how the station security worked or how much info he'd gotten when he hacked the Monsanto mainframe.

She held still, listening as well. Keelah's eyes met hers as if asking for confirmation, and Dred shook her head.
No, I don't hear anything.
She looked at Jael, who answered in the negative.

“Let's move,” Keelah whispered.

They followed her into the main corridor, long unused. There were no bot tracks this deep into the station, no tread marks in the dust on the rusted-metal flooring. It was colder here as well, making Dred wonder if there was a problem with climate control. She shifted the box in her arms and kept one eye on the space behind them, as she was guarding their rear.

“So far, so good,” Calypso breathed.

Duran nudged her. “Don't hex us.”

“My name's a verb,” the alien quipped. “Who knew?”

Though she was tense as a steel spike, they made it to the hallway shielded by a force field without encountering any opposition from Silence. That didn't comfort Dred any; it wasn't like the lunatic would give up if they killed enough of her people. Jael's message might even exacerbate the situation; though with Death's Handmaiden, it was hard to tell.

“I have to find the nearest wall access panel.” Vost turned to Jael, who was currently packing RC-17 on his back, as the unit was powered down. “Does this thing have access to schematics?”

“I'm not sure if its uplink is still working,” Dred said.

Jael added, “But theoretically, yes.”

From Duran's expression, he was barely restraining the complaint. She sympathized with his state of mind, but they couldn't waste time placating him. Every moment he made them divert toward settling him down was another where they were exposed with all their assets at risk.
If he keeps whining, I'll kill him myself.
Cold thought, but the Dread Queen was part of her now, even if she wasn't the whole of her personality.

“I know where it is,” Hex said into the tense silence.

All swiveled as the alien moved off down the corridor to the right. “What? I know every millimeter of this place. I survived by staying mobile.”

Its glib assertion troubled her. There had to be a reason Silence had hunted Hex down and taken it alive. But the gray guy wasn't talking.

Not that I blame him. I don't trust these people with my secrets either. If they knew I had the potential in my blood to save Redmond, Vost might've opened me up like a ripe melon and drained me dry.
Yeah, she wouldn't be revealing her hidden talent anytime soon.

Jael was the first to move, rushing after the alien with predatory grace. Sometimes, his beauty in a place like this struck her like a fist to the chest, as improbable as finding a perfect flower growing in a refuse pile.
The universe threw us both away. How did we find each other?
But emotional questions had to wait.

Vost shouldered past the small group to get to the access panel. “This could take some time. If I had all my equipment, it would be simple, but a bunch of assholes stole my stuff.”

Martine smirked. “That's too bad.”

“For us it is,” Tam said. “And if we had your gear, we'd give it back.”

“If one of the other groups looted your camp, it should be somewhere on station,” Calypso pointed out.

“That pisses me off,” Vost muttered, peering at the wires.

“I could look for it,” Hex offered.

“I'll go with you.” The offer came from Jael.

Dred nodded, and the two split from the main group. She watched them go, wondering why she felt so uneasy. It wasn't like the alien posed any threat to a man who could kill so many of Silence's assassins single-handed.

Right?

•   •   •

“DO
you have some idea where Vost's equipment ended up?” Jael asked, after a while.

“Nope.” The alien's tone was cheerful. “I mostly didn't want to stand around the hallway waiting for them to bypass the security. We'll be safer away from them.”

“Sod me. That's why you volunteered?”

“Wasn't that your reason, too? I'm positive it's not because you like the cut of my jib.”

“If we're being candid, I wanted to be sure you weren't reporting back to Silence.”

“You think I'm a double agent?” Hex appeared surprised though Jael wasn't sure he could actually interpret the alien's expressions correctly. The facial alignment was different than a human's and the side-set dark eyes didn't give anything away. In fact, he could only see himself reflected in them.

“Nothing would shock me at this point.”

“I don't know if I'm flattered or offended. It takes a special kind of crazy to agree to let a homicidal maniac bind you and put you in a sack as part of some nefarious plan.”

Jael shrugged. “Call it caution.”

“Trust me, I'm watching your knife hand, too.”

“Then I'll double your workload . . . and tell you that I'm ambidextrous.”

Hex made a sound like a sigh and aimed a look over one shoulder. “I hate talented assholes. You make my life
so
much more difficult.”

“Noted. I won't apologize. Where are we headed?”

“Priest's old stomping grounds. If we don't find anything there, we'll try Grigor next. I have no idea who did the looting. I was hunkered down during the worst of the carnage riots.”

“Good idea.”

“You don't stay alive unaffiliated in Perdition without being a clever bastard.” Hex tossed the comment as he skimmed up the shaft ladder. The sucker pads on his fingertips let him climb with preternatural prowess, and his feet seemed to be almost as dexterous as his hands.

Priest's old zone had been picked over pretty thoroughly. Now it was just a festering corpse pile. The bodies had rotted where they fell, some of them gnawed by station scavengers. Yet others had been maimed and dismembered, so Jael had to step over piles of entrails and puddles of dried black blood. The smell was indescribable, especially to his acute olfaction, and he almost lost the packet of paste he'd sucked down earlier.

“Sounds like your self-esteem didn't suffer while you were in solitary.”

“Self-elected,” Hex pointed out.

“What did you do to end up in here?” Jael knew he was breaking Perdition etiquette and didn't fragging care.

What's the point of rules now anyway?
Plus he'd never been big on following them in the first place.

“I could claim I'm innocent. Aren't we all?”

“Not me,” Jael said. “The lie would probably choke me to death.”

“So you're a murderous monster but not a liar?” Hex sounded amused. “Yes, definitely take pride and satisfaction in that.”

Jael laughed quietly. Maybe he couldn't trust this alien, but damned if he didn't rather like it. “Right. So you're not talking?”

“I could claim I was caught up in the xenophobic purges on New Terra.”

“That's the story I heard from most of Katur and Keelah's crew,” he allowed.

“Well, they
would
, wouldn't they? It's always better for people to think you're harmless.”

The tone sent a shiver down Jael's spine. But the alien didn't push it, so Jael followed, deeper into Priest's territory. Suddenly, he felt eyes on him, but he couldn't tell where the feeling was coming from. Over his turns as a merc, he'd learned not to underestimate his instincts.

“Something's wrong,” he said.

Hex paused. “You heard something?”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, don't stand there waiting to be attacked. Keep moving.”

The walls were stained dark, evidence of Priest's perversions, and the torture implements reminded Jael uncomfortably of the lab though the techs had called it science instead of sadism. A few minutes later, they found what must've been Priest's throne room, but Jael didn't see anything that resembled Vost's missing tech gear. Instead, it was all bones and rubbish, creating a heinous stench, worsened by the rodent droppings and acrid stink of old urine. In the chaos, there was no telling where the missing kit ended up, and though Dred had snagged some of it, she couldn't be the only faction leader who'd led a successful run.

He sighed. “Damn, we came all this way for nothing.” Spare rations, more functional weapons and any gadgets they could recover would certainly increase their chances of survival.

“If they hid it somewhere, we might never recover it,” Hex said.

“You're right about that.”

“Should we call it, or do you want to check out Grigor's shit hole? Vost might've gotten through without the tech assist by now.”

“Let's head back to check in. While it would help down the line, maybe even with the ship, there's no point in wasting time. We can always go back out.”

“That's a logical assumption,” Hex said.

The alien reached out and set a hand on Jael's arm. At first he thought it was a warning, so he quieted. But then a sharp pain pierced his skin, like thousands of minute needles pricking at once. The sucker pads locked down and something flooded his bloodstream. Everything went hazy, and his body locked. Jael toppled sideways. He could only see the filthy floor and part of the corridor.