Gyaros Book One: The Mice Eat Iron (YA 17+ Sci Fi Adventure) (47 page)

“This way!”
she shouted before running out the door. The other two followed as fast as they could, stepping out onto the walkway in time to see the stubby legs of a fat man scrambling up a ladder in the distance. A wild arena battle raged below as Miles, Maxen and Mesa sprinted across the walkway that stretched all the way around the stadium, their footsteps clanging loudly on the steel below. They eventually arrived at the base of the ladder which appeared to lead to the roof of the stadium. Mesa took to the ladder first, followed by Maxen and finally Miles. As they climbed towards the top, they began to hear what sounded like the blades of a helicopter preparing for take-off and upon arriving on the roof, they saw just that, a large black and yellow chopper lifting slowly off the ground with a short, overweight man in a black suit sitting in the back. An expression of fear and terror was pasted across his sweaty, cowardly face as the vehicle climbed higher. Miles could see the resemblance, he looked like a younger, uglier version of Gideon.

“GET DOWN!”
yelled Mesa to Miles and Maxen as the chopper turned towards them, revealing a heavy machine gun which was mounted to the bottom. The three scattered and took cover behind whatever they could find as the barrel of the large weapon began to spin, making a sound like a super charged washing machine. Bullets rained down on the stadium roof sending debris and dust in all directions, making it troublesome to move from cover. Miles sat shaking with Maxen behind a steel air conditioning cylinder while Mesa took cover about thirty feet away behind a concrete ledge.

“Maxen!”
she shouted over the roar of the chopper blades and the blazing machine gun.

“Yeah?!” Maxen yelled back.

“I'll draw its fire, you take the fucker out!” Before Maxen had a chance to respond, Mesa rushed out of cover and on to the open roof, the bullets promptly followed her, hitting inches from her feet as she bolted across the rooftop with super human speed. 'Is she fucking deranged?!' Miles thought as he watched the fearless woman skilfully dodge the eternal shower of heavy machine gun rounds. Maxen quickly jumped to his feet and pointed his cannon at the chopper which now faced away from him. Miles watched anxiously as the bright blue energy ball shot from Maxen's arm and made direct and spectacular contact with the helicopter, severing the tail and sending it into a fatal downward spin. Mesa stopped running and looked up at the chopper as it fell, calmly pulling a cigarette from her jeans pocket and placing it in the side of her mouth. Maxen and Miles came out of cover and joined Mesa at the edge of the roof where they stood and watched the helicopter steam towards the asphalt of the parking lot below, breaking apart violently and exploding as it crashed into a bunch of empty parked cars, thankfully nowhere near Lucy or the stalls on the other side.

“Holy shit!” Maxen yelled
hysterically, bringing his hands to his head.

“Nice shot
,” Mesa said with a subtle smile as she flicked open her lighter and lit the cigarette. Miles collapsed to his knees, exhausted by the last few moments of madness.

“Is it over?”
he asked, catching his breath.

“Pretty much,” replied Mesa taking a puff
, “now that Ransom's dead, his guards have no one to protect, and he didn’t breed much in the way of loyalty, he was a fucking asshole to his staff. Even tried to hit on me until I told him I’d cut his dick off if he as much as touched me.” She turned away from the roof's edge and began to make her way back towards the ladder, “c'mon, let's get to the announcer's booth.”

“Why?”
inquired Maxen, following her.

“'Cause I've got an announcement to make.” Miles climbed back
on his feet and joined the other two as they headed back down the ladder to the walkway above the arena, this time making their way to a small box on the other side of the stadium.

Mesa kicked open the door of the announcer's booth to find a man in his mid-twenties, sitting at a desk, wearing a headset and commentating on the action below.

“And they've done it! The Cretins take down The Fortune Fighters in another amazing battle! Shame about ol' Gonzo though! Don't go anywhere folks, next up we've got-” Mesa spun the announcer's chair around to face her “W-what the fuck?” the announcer uttered, his brow trembling in fear.

“I've got somethin' to tell the good people
,” said Mesa, grinning.

“Uh...y-yeah, of course
,” the terrified announcer turned his chair back around to the desk and held down a red button on the mixing desk.

“Uhm...
looks like we've got an important announcement from The Reaper herself!” he said in a trembling voice before handing the headset to Mesa. She held down the same red button and spoke into the microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is The Reaper
,” the crowd fell dead silent as the sultry voice of their beloved champion rang around the stadium, “I'd like to inform you all that from now on Titans Arena will be owned and operated by The Machine syndicate. The fight schedule will remain the same and I would like to let all security personnel know that their wages will be increased by fifteen percent, so don’t let me catch you shooting at me or my friends. If your vehicle happened to be crushed by a fallen helicopter at any point in the last twenty four hours, we apologize for the inconvenience and assure you that The Machine will gladly compensate you for any damages. Oh, and there will be free drink refills for everyone until closing today, so drink up! That will be all.” Mesa tossed the headset back to the confused announcer and left the room with Miles and Maxen as the arena crowd began to cheer and holler once more.

“So, who's going to run the arena now?”
asked Miles as they made their way back to Taggart's box via the metal walkway.

“Just some Machine agent, he's good with numbers and business shit.”

They arrived back at the private box to see two men armed with automatic shotguns escorting a familiar face.

“Scott?!” Miles said, his eyes wide with surprise as he looked on at Scott the chuckster.

“What the fuck? What are you guys doin' here?” Scott seemed equally as shocked to see Miles and Maxen. Mesa looked confused, unsure how the men knew each other.

“So he's the one taking over the stadium?” Miles asked, turning to Mesa.

“Uh, yeah. Have you two met before?”

“I talked to these guys after their first
fight and I was pretty disappointed when I heard you'd killed 'em!” said Scott with a laugh, “they put on a great show!”

“Small world I guess
,” Mesa said smiling slightly, “so how do you like your new arena, Scott?” she added humorously, lounging languorously on one of Taggart’s finely crafted arm chairs.

“Well, I see you've already redecorated the place!”
replied Scott ironically.

“I think it suits you
,” said Mesa, briefly enjoying the comfort of the soft chair before standing back up and adding, “well, I'd stay for a drink if the bar wasn't blown to shit, plus I owe these guys,” she casually walked across the room and pressed the elevator’s call button, “good luck runnin' this place.”

“Hey, wait a minute. Don't you want me to arrange a lift back to New Fortune?” Scott suggested as the elevator arrived
.

“No thanks,” replied Mesa
, “I've got a ride.”

The three of them made their way out of the stadium and back to the pickup truck, stopping briefly at the arena's med bay to extract the bullet in Mesa’s shoulder and pick up a few
badly needed medical supplies. Lucy was still waiting anxiously in the truck and could be seen smiling and bouncing up and down in the passenger seat as they approached, all alive and well. Lucy opened the truck door and ran as fast as she could to Miles, hugging him around the waist and grinning madly.

“Did you do the mission?!”
she asked loudly.

“Sure did
,” said Maxen, patting her head, “now Mesa’s gonna help
us
out,” he added happily.

“Yep
, that was the deal,” Mesa jumped into the back of the pickup truck and lit another cigarette, “better get movin' if we wanna make it to New Fortune by sundown.”

“She's right,”
said Miles, “we can celebrate on the way, right now it's time to get back on the road.”

“I was so scared,” Lucy said, her voice muffled as she buried her face in Miles
’ chest, “I heard an explosion and got so worried, I thought you weren’t coming back!” she sobbed and Miles knelt down to comfort her. The past forty eight hours were a blur of blood and violence that Miles hadn’t even begun to assimilate. For now all he could do was put on a brave face for Lucy and keep going.

“Hey, I promised remember? Now let’s get to New Fortune and get us a proper night’s sleep in a real bed, and take a nice hot shower!”

Lucy wiped the tears from her eyes and beamed at the thought of a soft bed and a clean body.

Miles, Maxen and Lucy climbed into the truck and Mesa made herself as comfortable as possible
in the back with Maxen’s bike as they pulled out of the vast parking lot and headed off in the direction of New Fortune. ‘Finally, finally this bad dream that started with that email from Hellen can end and I can get back to where I belong. So close now, just got to hang in there a little longer.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 29

Miles Stanton; family man and well behaved Elissa Energy Department worker with a spotless record. That was who Miles still saw himself as despite the life changing events of the past two months. This whole episode was nothing more than a blip, a glitch, in an otherwise unremarkable life. It was Miles’ yearning to return to that banal existence that had kept him going all this time, that kept him from taking the easy way out, compromising his ethics and becoming just another sick Gyaros psycho. A deep sense of injustice pushed him ever onward to regain what was rightfully his; a comfortable and respectable life with his family. Tyler Riggs pushed him too far and caused him to lose everything that mattered to him, it wasn’t fair, not fair at all. But there was something else brewing inside Miles, a concept so alien to his old way of thinking that it conflicted with everything he believed about how the world works. Riding with him in the rickety pickup truck were a convicted thief, thug and assassin, a homicidal android and an agent working under cover for one of Gyaros’ major crime syndicates. There were two things that everyone in that truck had in common, firstly they all had blood on their hands, they had all taken the lives of other human beings, some of whom didn’t even deserve to die. Secondly, Miles could not classify any one of them as a bad person. And he could quite honestly say that he would rather have any of these “shady” characters by his side than Tyler Riggs, a so-called proud and upstanding citizen of Carthage.

On Carthage everything was black and white. If you worked hard and obeyed the law you were a good person, if you slacked off or committed a crime you were bad. It was as simple as that, and for twenty nine years that’s how Miles viewed the world
. He should not be judged harshly for this way of thinking as there was simply no alternative viewpoint, no critique of the system, not in the Green Districts at least. Dissenting voices rose up from time to time in the Yellow and Red Districts but where quickly quashed by swift and brutal Enforcer action, word of which would never make its way to the surface of Elissa, and even if it did, it wouldn’t be believed. Yes life was simple on Carthage but now Miles didn’t know what to think. After spending time on Gyaros it occurred to him that there were good folk in just about any place and in any profession and this thought scared him, terrified him. Miles was a proud Carthaginian, a proud Green Districts resident, and a proud Energy Department employee. He considered himself a good man because of arbitrary dividers such as geography, class and position. ‘But that doesn’t mean anything! I’ve been looking down on people my whole damn life, sometimes better men than I! Kinder men than I, more honest men than I! Just because of where they were born, or sent.’

Miles was beginning to realise that it wasn’t the job or the location of birth that mattered, it was how
one treats their fellow man, and how they treat themselves that mattered most. People are judged by their actions, their choices and attitudes not by their title, or bloodline. Miles felt violated, cheated and lied to by the system that he had for so long pledged his undying allegiance. ‘Carthage, the Areopagus. That’s why no one’s allowed back from Gyaros, that’s why no one is allowed to visit Gyaros. Yes it’s a hell hole but there is beauty here, there is kindness here, there is freedom here! The way Adara and Doctor Galand helped us so willingly, the way Adam and Miriam offered me, a stranger, their home and their food. This just doesn’t happen in Elissa. Everyone on Carthage is only looking out for themselves, everyone is so damn terrified of being sent here that they forget what’s important there! They become cold and hardened.’

As well as this
, thanks to his interactions with residents of the Red and Yellow Districts, Miles now understood that Carthage Corp was perhaps not the benevolent force for good that he was once so sure it was. ‘How could the Areopagus lie to us about the use of Chimerium?! They breached the trust of every Green Districts citizen! I just can’t believe it…’