Freedom Incorporated (43 page)

Read Freedom Incorporated Online

Authors: Peter Tylee

Tags: #corporations, #future

I doubt
it,
Dan thought, hoping she never would.
Nobody deserves to understand this loneliness and desolation.
“Maybe I’ll visit.”


I’d like
that.” Jen felt
her skin
tingling under the oppressive sun and said, “I’m
burning, I’d better go in.”

Dan nodded. “I’ll be
along soon. Now that I’m here, I might as well check the
calibration on the thermo-cells. I’ve been meaning to do it for
weeks.”


Okay, see you
inside.” She realised how straining it had been to keep the
dejection from her face when she turned away and allowed the mask
to slip. Each pace was like a stride into the unknown.
We’re alone.
But she’d
been comfortable with that for months.
So
why is it bothering me now?
She didn’t need
Dan, she didn’t need anybody, or so she was desperate to believe.
Three days ago she’d been fiercely independent.
And now?
It was different.
Why?
She couldn’t explain.
It just was.

Dan watched her leave,
hands on his hips. He was so wrapt by his inner turmoil that he
didn’t notice the burgundy four-wheel drive tearing down the dirt
road, throwing up a cloud of dust and grit. It swerved violently,
slicing across his boundary with a bucking action that would’ve
whiplashed the passengers. And by the time it was within striking
distance, Dan was too late to stop them.

*

Esteban
squinted at the barren landscape through the double-glazing. “What
a fucking desert.” He snivelled and ran a hand across his face.
Junior was driving recklessly, grinding the gearbox. Hardly
surprising since he hadn’t driven a car for months and hadn’t
driven a manual for years. Their stolen four-wheel drive wasn’t
exactly a luxury vehicle either. Its leather seats were badly
scarred and slashed, the foam in the cushions squeezing to
freedom.
And it stinks!
It reminded Esteban of the repugnant stench of pig
manure.
Fucking
farmers.
He abhorred anything that even
remotely resembled farms or farming. To him it was primitive, far
removed from the luxury of the Guild.

Adrian sat in
the front passenger seat, on the left since
Australian
s
drove on
the left.
Stupid English and their stupid
left-of-the-road rules.
Esteban’s lack of
sleep had deposited him squarely in an unpleasant mood.

Adrian was studying a
map, turning it around with each twist of the dusty road to keep it
pointing straight. “It should be about two miles.”


Which side of
the road?” A grinding sound screeched from the mortified gearbox as
Junior selected a lower gear and revved the engine to mount a steep
incline in the road.


Uh…” Adrian
adjusted his glasses before answering, “Right.”

The tachometer redlined
with Junior’s punishment. “Right.”


No!” Adrian
changed his mind. “I mean left.”


Left? You’re
sure.”


Uh…” Adrian
spun the map again. “Yes, I’m sure.”


Right.”


Shut the fuck
up you clowns.” Esteban wasn’t in the mood for their antics. “Just
remember what you’re supposed to do.”


How could we
forget?” Junior punctuated his rhetorical question with another
shift in the stick and another grind from the gears. The four-wheel
drive had high ground clearance to cope with the rough Australian
conditions and it felt as if he was driving a truck.
I
t ran on diesel rather
than petroleum-replacement fuel
and was
therefore
difficult to stall. Somehow, he’d
managed twice in town.


Here!” Adrian
pointed to his left. “Right here!”

Junior spun the wheel
sharply and their land cruiser careered over an embankment and
dipped sharply back to earth with a crunch that nearly landed
Adrian’s head on the dashboard.

Esteban wasn’t
wearing a seatbelt but he’d braced himself firmly against the two
seats in front and taken the impact with his arms.
Perfect.
He swept the
scene and changed his fluid plans in an instant. “Go, go! There!”
He slapped Junior in the shoulder and pointed out the windscreen.
“Quick!”

He recognised
her, even from a distance. It was the way she walked.
Jennifer Cameron.
A
twisted grin lit Esteban’s face and he gripped the stock of his
automatic rifle and grunted doggedly.
Die
bitch.
He pressed the button to lower his
power window and swung the barrel out before gently squeezing the
trigger. Three rounds burst with a flash from the muzzle, visible
even in the dazzle of the desert. He saw three distinct puffs of
dirt explode on her left. He hadn’t intended to hit her, though the
rocking of their vehicle made for a dicey game. One stray round was
enough to splatter her brains over the baked ground for the
scavengers to feed upon. He was trying to avoid that.

Another
squeeze and the rifle recoiled, again pummelling his shoulder. This
time there were four quick kicks amid the deafening bark of
automatic fire. He was herding her away from the reflective orange
plates that warned approaching
vehicles
of Dan’s underground
abode.
If I can nab her before she reaches
the house…
It was too perfect to have
planned. Only luck and chance could deliver something so divinely
flawless.

Junior swerved
just as Esteban put pressure on the trigger and a burst of fire
swept perilously past Jen. Esteban lowered the weapon to make sure
she was still alive. Three rounds puffed into the ground
hazardously close, passing half a metre from her fragile
body.
Okay, that’s too
close.
Esteban lowered the rifle and reached
for his
Peacemaker
,
better suited for close range. They were near enough to make out
the startled expression on her face and it thrilled him in a
sadistic way. She was sprinting now, running for her life.
Not that it’ll do you any good, honey.

A bullet
shattered the rear window and Esteban swept the horizon for
anything he’d missed.
There, by the
cells.
It was Dan.
Only he would’ve had
the wits
and guts
to fire upon a
four-wheel drive full of
men with
automatic weapons.


Cover him!”
Esteban shouted above the revving engine.


I see it.”
Adrian used his scope, pressing his glasses as close as he dared
without the two surfaces touching. He squeezed his trigger and a
volley of .303 calibre bullets zinged through the air and shredded
a thermo-cell.

Esteban slapped Junior on
the shoulder. “Pull up beside her.”

He swerved to
obey and easily intercepted Jen before she could reach a copse of
trees. Adrian laid
additional
covering fire and splintered
more of Dan’s
thermo-
cells while Esteban opened his door and knocked Jen to the
ground.

She twisted
underneath him, trying to squirm onto her
back
where she’d have a chance to claw
out his eyes. But his heftier frame and vicelike grip were too
much. He subdued her by twisting her arms behind her back and
wrenching them high. She moaned with pain. Any more pressure and
her shoulders would pop
, tearing
her arms from their sockets. Jen kicked with her
feet, trying to dig a heel into his back, but he was too far
forward.


Get off me!”
Her breathing was weak; the fall had knocked the wind out of
her.


Not likely.”
Esteban yanked her to her feet with calculated force, jolting her
with pain. Any harder and he
would’ve
shattered her shoulders beyond
repair. He quickly wrapped piano wire around her wrists, securing
them behind her back. It cut into her flesh, biting deeper the more
she resisted. “Is that too tight?”

All Jen could do was nod,
her face pale from a nauseating combination of shock and
pain.


Good.”
Esteban tugged her arms apart, the action leaving her ill to her
core. The slightest pressure sent waves of agony shooting up from
her wrists. She had no options left, or none that she was willing
to take. Nothing was worth severing her hands. Already the
razor-like wire had sliced a neat circle around each wrist
and
it
was
threatening to start on her tendons and bones. If Esteban had
wanted, he could’ve wrenched her elbows apart and cut her tendons,
making her fingers limp and useless. But he didn’t. He had
something more insidious in mind. “Now get in.”

Blinded by pain and the
sudden flood of light, Jen obeyed. Her sunglasses lay smashed in
the dirt. Disorientated and dazed, she stepped one leg after the
other into the air-conditioned land cruiser. In the distance she
heard a shot, then another, but they were soon drowned by rapid
gunfire from the cabin of her waiting vehicle.

Esteban retrieved his
rifle and peered cautiously toward the thermo-cells. “Where is he?”
He looked through his scope, scouring the land for Dan.


Next to the
cells,” Adrian replied, wondering how many brittle sheets of
thermo-plastic his bullets could penetrate.


Don’t kill
him,” Esteban ordered. His devilish mind had cooked a special
recipe for Dan’s torment, a fitting punishment for causing his
premature fieldwork retirement. Another .45 round twanged into the
land cruiser’s chassis. “You understand? I don’t want him
dead.”

*

Panic gripped
Dan’s throat. He couldn’t see her anymore.
Is she dead?
There was something on
the ground that could
ha
ve been Jen and it sent a shrill spike of terror through his
mind. He wished he had better cover than the flimsy thermo-cells.
He eyed a dip in the ground ten metres away with desire.
But they have automatics.
He gave his Colt a disgusted look. It was practically useless
at this range; he wasn’t that good a shot. More unnerving was the
thought that if he kept firing he might accidentally kill Jen. He
hugged the frame with a grimace and peered through a bullet hole
punctured in the cell material.

It wasn’t the
Raven. He had a vastly different operating pattern and always
worked alone.
But who is
it?
The question nagged at the back of his
mind.

UniForce?
He couldn’t think of anyone
else who could assemble that much firepower so quickly.

He fired
another two shots, giving Jen a wide berth, and
was alarmed to hear one of his bullets strike
metal
. The wind was picking up, sending
dust swirls to obscure his vision and make his trajectory
unpredictable. The tiny particles of dirt stung his eyes
and were
gritty in his
mouth, tasting like mud. He used the whirlwind as cover and dashed
for the ditch, rolling into it with the all the grace and aplomb of
a maimed elephant. But immediately he felt safer. A string of
bullets thudded into the ground around his head and he hunkered
low, giving them as little as possible to shoot at. He had a
significant disadvantage. The last thing he
wanted
was to harm Jen, so he
didn’t want to risk
return
ing
fire.
I’m a sitting
duck.
Dan punched the ground in frustration
and peeked above his mound, praying they’d be foolish enough to
close in on his position.

I’ve
lost.
The truth tasted like poison. He
wondered how he’d erred so badly.
And now
my foolishness has cost Jen her life.

*


He’s holed up
pretty good.” Adrian massaged his trigger with the sensitive pad on
his right index finger, gratified when the weapon recoiled once in
response. He saw the clod of dirt kicked up through the swirl in
the air and spat on the ground to clear the dust from his
mouth.


It doesn’t
matter.” Esteban sneered. “We’ve got all we need.”

He pushed Jen roughly to
her side on the backseat, enjoying her wince of pain. He reached
for the long metal canister at her feet and pulled it free. It was
light, made of high-polymer plastics and strengthened with ribbons
of aluminium. He mounted the weapon on his shoulder and pressed the
activation button, which caused the scope to drop from its recess.
He closed his other eye, concentrating on the aim. He targeted
Dan’s hollow and jammed his thumb on the firing mechanism. With a
flare of smoke, a grenade-like projectile rocketed from the gaping
hole at the front of the canister. It wasn’t a lethal weapon, or
wasn’t supposed to be, though sometimes people with a weak
constitution succumbed to it. It arced blindly through the sky,
buffeted by the winds in a haphazard dance that landed it five
metres from Dan. Upon impact it detonated with a swirl of purple
reagent, which quickly engulfed area. It was a biochemical gas used
to subdue crowds, which had gained infamy during the riots of the
‘20s and ‘30s.

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