Hive III (5 page)

That stops Commander Tind dead right in
his tracks. The laughing behind him stops too and now he’s leaning in my direction. “Well, that was easy,” he said and turned to the limper with the dusty beard. “Slit their throats and throw their bodies down the pits.”

Men with knives come toward us. Commander Tind’s walking away when I shout after him. “You do that and
you sign a death warrant for everyone in the ten territories.”

Tind takes three more steps before halting. The men with the knives are almost on us, I can see the murderous glint in their eyes. They can’t wait to teach us a lesson for killing their friends.

“Death warrant?” he asks, a single eyebrow raised.

“Tell y
our men to stand down,” I shout. “Stand down and I’ll tell you.”

Tind nods at them and the men with the knives
pause. “You’ve got ten seconds and this better be good.”

I take a deep breath, feeling the stale, musty air
rush into my lungs. “Skuld turned himself into some kind of super Zee and awoke all the Hives. Sotercity’s in ruins. Now he’s heading to destroy the capital.”

It’s impossible to tell from here if Tind believes
me or not. Dusty beard’s right there beside him, pulling his thumb across his throat and you don’t need to know sign language to see where he stands. Tind seems to be mulling the story over. Not that I can blame him. It would be a hard thing for anyone to believe, especially if you’ve spent most of your life locked away from the world.

The Commander steps forward. “We’re sending a runner to Sotercity to verify your story. If you’re lying, we’ll discover it soon enough.”

But that’s where Tind is wrong. They’ll discover the truth all right but, by then, it might be too late.

Azina

Slipping out of Sotercity is proving to be tougher than we thought. The gates are closed tight and I can see some of the survivors manning the walls are armed with Keeper rifles. Grinders are forbidden from owning weapons, another means of preventing the masses from getting too uppity I think, but with so many bodies lying around, guns and ammo aren’t hard to come by. We catch sight of another armed group heading for the keep and I can only assume they’ve given themselves the undignified job of clearing out what’s left of the Zees.

“Krantz’ hideout,” Sneak signs.

She may have a point. The same route we used to enter the city before this mess started could get us out. Although I recall our hasty departure and the horde that was clawing after us. Chances were good they’d have followed Skuld’s orders and left the city with the other shitbags. Only one way to find out.

We come to a narrow street with shops on our left. I recognize a grocers market as the place where Bron helped a group of frightened people seek shelter. Only now the metal shutter is open
; I hope they were smart enough to wait out the carnage. A peek inside reveals that same upper class woman with the silk pajamas and the soft white skin. Except much of that skin’s been chewed off. But she isn’t the only one. Looks like the whole lot of them were killed at once.

“Idiots,” I murmur. “All they need
ed to do was keep the door shut.”

Klaus hears me talking to myself and
his expression makes it clear he isn’t sure why I’d concern myself with a bunch of strangers, and maybe he’s right.

One of
my earliest memories from childhood is collecting stray cats. Seemed whenever I’d go out to play, I’d always come home with some malnourished fur ball in tow. I still recall returning from a game of Keepers and Monsters, a kitten with a broken leg limping after me. And no matter how much I begged, my father wouldn’t budge. We didn’t have enough to feed another hungry mouth. That’s when he took my weeping face into his callused hands and said: “You have a gentle heart, Azina. But you can’t save the world.”

The words still ring in my ear
s when we reach the manhole cover and the trash container Bron pulled over it. Doesn’t take more than a quick shove to move it out of place. As always, Sneak is the first one in. Klaus and I aren’t far behind. There’s hardly a stitch of light down here, but I can see just fine. Klaus’ got his hands out in front of him like a blind man, while Sneak seems to be faring a little better. She doesn’t need to see in order to slit you from ear to ear.

We pass what’s left of Krantz’ man
, Vasser, lying on the floor like a half eaten meal. And that’s exactly what he looks like. His arms are little more than bones. Seems the Zees worked on him for a while after we locked them in here.

Soon we come to the pile of Zee corpses. A few of them are still alive and Sneak
finishes them for good. I stay back and out of the way. I’ve been trying to keep a low profile and the last thing I wanna do is let Skuld know where I am. Part of that process goes further than staying out of sight from Zees, though. I need to stay off of Zee central, which is a double edged sword, since it’s the only way of knowing for sure what part of the ten territories Skuld is in the process of ravaging.

The smell of human waste greets us as we make our way from Krantz’ hideout into the sewers. There’s a
light up ahead. It’s faint, but I know it means freedom. Freedom from the paranoid Grinders who are currently running Sotercity, now that all semblance of order has broken down. Then I sense Skuld and it feels like he’s reaching out, looking for me. It isn’t more than a tingle at the back of my neck, but I know he’s searching and that our only chance of getting close, perhaps the only chance of keeping the people I love safe, is by making him think I’m dead.

Ret

We’ve been strapped to these chairs for well over three hours without any sign of Tind or that runner he sent off to check on Sotercity. I’m sure if Azina were with us, the commander would have taken one look at her and known we are telling the truth. Course, he might have blown her away on account of her looking like a Zee but, either way, we wouldn’t be waiting around wasting time. The two barrel-chested men Tind left to watch us look about as friendly as a pair of cut throats. They’re playing a dice game, over by the entrance, glancing back every few minutes, almost looking for an excuse to end us for good.

Bron
sits beside Oleg, his arms tied with heavy ropes, knuckles pointed at his chest. If he wants to fire those 20mm guns, his own body will be the first thing they tear a hole through.

Beside me, Dhal is asleep, snoring quietly, his head resting against the heavy ropes keeping us in place.
The naïve little punk actually thinks Tind is gonna free us when his man finds Sotercity clogged with dead bodies. For all we know, he’s just as likely to pin this mess on us. I nudge the kid with my foot. He stirs, but doesn’t wake. I try it again, with a similar result. That’s when I stomp on his foot and see his eyes pop open. “Ow, what’d you do that for?”

The guards are looking over now and I bob my head like I’m dreaming some crazy dream that’s got me stomping feet and lashing about. They watch me for a moment, chuckle at what a
‘tard I am and then return to their dice. I find a similar expression on Dhal’s face, one I’m embarrassed to say I saw from others the time I accidentally ate a wild mushroom. It probably nearly killed me, but the ride was fun as hell.

Dhal still looks pissed
that I woke him up when I say, “Think you can get yourself out of these ropes?”

The fear on his face is immediate. “Are you crazy
, Ret? If those guys see me gone they’ll eat me for breakfast.”

“They’re not gonna eat you,’ I whisper back. “They’ll kill you, no doubt about that, but I can guarantee you won’t be eaten.’

The kid doesn’t look impressed. “What do you want me to do?” he asks with the kind of skepticism that usually precedes a no. “Get outta these ropes and go beat them up?”

“What’s going on?” It’s Bron. He’s at the far end, stuck beside Oleg
, feeling left out.

“Nothing,” I whisper back, hoping it’ll shut him up.

Bron’s still asking questions as I begin telling Dhal what I have in mind. “Once you work those ropes free, you think you’ll be able to get one of the Titans up and running?”

“Oh, geez, that’s
hard to say. I mean, the power core has to be removed and reinstalled all without the guards finding out…”

“Just make sure when you fire
that tin can up, they don’t start attacking us.”

“I never said I’d go
.”

“Yes, you did.”

Dhal swallows hard. “I did?”

I nod. “Don’t worry, if anything happens we’ve got your back.”

The kid is still skeptical and I can’t say I blame him one bit. Tied to these chairs, the rest of us are about as useful as a bunch of newborns.

Dhal starts wiggling and writhing
. “Thata boy,” I say. “I’ll cough if the guards start to turn around.”

My reasons for making Dhal do this wasn’t
‘cause he’s the only one who can get those oversized garbage bins working again. By far he has the slightest build and the best chances of working himself free. One of the guards begins to glance over and I pretend to clear my throat. But Dhal’s not stopping. He’s making good progress and not paying attention. I cough a bit louder and this time he freezes. The guard’s still glaring at us when his partner throws the dice and shouts gleefully. A second later, both of them are focused on the game again.

When I turn back to give Dhal the all clear, he’s gone and so is his chair. I turn to look behind me and see what the smart little bugger has done. He’s slid his chair back behind mine and lined up the legs so the next time those guards turn around, they won’t immediately see an empty chair. Course, something about the sight before them will look different, but hopefully they won’t quite be able to put their fingers on it. My next concern
is the tools Dhal’s gonna need to get the job done. Already, I can hear a tiny clank here and there and I just know he’s gotta hurry before these two gambling addicts figure out what we’re up to. Slowly I turn my head, so as not to draw any unwanted attention, and catch sight of Dhal climbing the scaffolding around the largest of the two machines, with something that looks like a breadbox in his arms. He’s about to insert the power core. I’m not certain, but that’s my best guess. I turn back and at once my heart leaps into my throat. Dusty Beard’s just entered the room and both of the guards are standing at attention. He’s giving them shit over something, playing dice maybe, dereliction of duty, the usual riot act petty men use as their stock and trade.

A metal door slams
behind us and there isn’t a chance in hell those assholes didn’t hear that. Dusty Beard is scanning through the dimly lit chamber for the source of the noise, then his eyes pass over us and stop in the space where Dhal was sitting.

He charges
forward growling. “The boy, where is he?”

Behind us, almost in answer, comes the sound of compressed air and spinning gears. We all turn at once to see
one of the bronze behemoths raise its arms and tear the scaffolding away as though it were cobwebs. The machine’s eyes glow a bright yellow and Dusty Beard’s just standing there, with this jaw hanging open. The guards nearby are wearing the same dumb expressions.

Without a moment to lose, I begin working free from my ropes. Dusty sees me and pulls
out a knife from a sheath on his belt. I’m sure he’s gonna stick all of us before we can escape and, judging by that gleam in his eye, he intends to start with me.

The knife in Dusty Beard’s hand is ten inches
long with a serrated edge. The kind that hurts like hell going in and tears you apart coming out. I haven’t a clue where Dhal is now, after all that scaffolding came crashing down, but I can hear the joints of his machine squealing and the ground rumbling with every giant step it takes. Looks like Dusty’s estimating how much time it’ll take to kill me. Probably figures the job won’t be hard, since half of me is still tied to the chair. Ten yards behind him, those two guards aren’t sure whether to stay and help their man commit murder or hi-tail it out and save themselves from becoming turds under the Titan’s shoe. Dusty’s about two feet away, and making ready to stick me straight in the chest, when I straight kick his knee. Even over the screaming whine of the Titan’s approaching footfalls, I catch the sound of his joint bending back on itself and snapping in two. He stumbles forward and I stomp his face, sending him sprawling back in agony. His beard is still dusty, except for the imprint of where my boot connected with his jaw.

I slide under the loosened ropes, snatch the knife from
his limp hand and begin cutting Bron’s ropes. They tied so many, it looks like an anaconda’s coiled around him. I’m not even halfway done when he flexes his arms and the remaining coils fall away. The machine passes us as Bron stands and the sight of a twenty foot, brass giant sends the guards scurrying to safety.

We untie the others and
the Titan stops at the mouth of the ramp leading up to the main entrance. Time is in seriously short supply, but we can’t just leave without Dhal. He’s the only one who knows how to work this thing. But, more importantly, this place’ll be crawling with hundreds of those bearded White Rock Keeper guards and there’s no telling what they’ll do to the kid once they get their hands on him.

Oleg and Bron are staring in awe at the machine’s glowing yellow eyes
. I start racing toward the collapsed scaffolding and already I hear the sound of boots charging toward us, men shouting orders and weapons being readied.

The
Titan lets out a metallic shout and it stops me dead in my tracks. I turn to see the top of its head peel back and a tiny figure stand up. It’s Dhal. He didn’t just start the thing, he’s driving it and, judging by the smile on his face, having one hell of a time in the process. The hatch slams shut and Dhal begins steering the machine up the ramp. The others are close behind and so am I. A moment later, we’re through the front doors. There isn’t any sign of those White Rock guards, but Commander Tind’s surely gonna be mad as hell when he hears what we’ve done. My only regret is that we only came away with one of those metallic beasts. Somehow, I’m not quite sure it’ll be enough.