He carried on running, back out
into the open. The rollercoaster track wound around more trees, twisting and
turning.
Then, up ahead, he heard a deep
bass roaring. Dex frowned.
That sounds like... water? A waterfall? A
big
waterfall?
As Dex emerged from the trees,
his mouth dropped. A canyon divided the forest, a huge expanse of emptiness;
the rollercoaster track cruised out over the abyss, high above the trees,
sunlight dazzling from wheel-polished steel, with - apparently - nothing holding
it steady, or even
in place.
A broad river snaked through the thick
woods, dizzyingly far below him. Ahead of him could be seen a vague outline,
where the track seemed to reconnect with the land, into a wide, sparkling
waterfall cascading off the far side of the canyon. Streamers of water spun
off, silver and glittering, into the abyss.
“Holy shit,” said Dex, eyes
swivelling down as if on stalks. That was a long way to fall. A
long way.
All the way down into oblivion. But where else could he go? What else could he
do?
He started to jog, slowly, across
the expanse. Sunlight burned his face, dazzling him. He readied the SMKK,
because - well, if those SIMs caught up with him, he’d have nowhere to go,
nowhere to hide. He hurried his pace, boots pounding the rollercoaster track,
mind racing faster than his boots. This high up there was a cross-breeze,
rocking Dex with occasional gusts. He picked up his pace yet further, trying to
ignore the vast drop, the roar of the waterfall, the dazzle of the sun and the
impending threat of those SIM bastards...
A chopping noise droned in the
distance, and from nowhere - at incredible speed -a sleek, black helicopter
tore into view. Dex stopped, suddenly, panic kicking through him. The chopper
rolled around and levelled, rotors screaming and threatening to blast Dex from
the track. Dex couldn’t see the pilot within the tinted cockpit, but the
intention was clear as he stared at the twin miniguns. Dex was caught out in
the open with his pants down.
“Throw
down the machine gun, dickhead.”
Dex dropped the SMKK to the track
with a clatter. Despair ran through him, and he glanced at the long, long fall
to the winding river. It was too far. Way too far. He’d snap his spine if he
dove off. He’d be crushed on impact, water or no...
“Put
your hands above your head,”
came
the instruction.
Dex complied, glancing back and
seeing the pursuing SIMs arriving. Now he was fucked. More fucked than fucked.
Now, he was taking a bite from a ripe shit sandwich, and the worse thing was,
there’d be no dessert. Because he’d be dead. And his wife and children would be
dead. Now, there was no future, and no hope...
The SIMs had stopped at the edge
of the rollercoaster bridge. They didn’t raise their weapons or come after him.
Dex frowned, and glanced back to the chopper. The noise was terrific, smashing
through his head like a bad whiskey hangover. Dex’s mouth was dry, filled with
fear and loathing. Fear for his kids. Loathing for himself. He’d fucked up.
Thought he could take on the Big Boys and play in their Big Pond. Well, he’d
been wrong. He’d shot himself in the foot, fucked himself up the arse. And now,
as the saying went, it was Time to Die...
The chopper veered right to hover
over the track, blocking Dex from the beckoning waterfall and, no doubt, some
form of escape tunnel beyond. An alloy ladder was kicked from the chopper and a
figure climbed out, descending awkwardly to drop onto the bridge. It was a man.
He wore a cream suit. One leg was torn and bloodstained, and his knee was strapped
up nice and tight.
It was Jim. Jim turned to stare
at Dex, his eyes bleak.
The chopper backed off, perhaps a
hundred metres, leaving the two men alone on the high bridge.
A cool breeze blew, ruffling Dex’s
short brown hair. “Fucking wonderful,” he muttered, and lowered his hands,
turning to face the Theme Planet policeman - or whatever the hell he was.
Monolith Corporation? Earth government? Who even
knew
anymore?
“Dexter Colls. You’ve been
causing a riot.”
“How’s the knee?”
“Hey, fuck you, pal. You’re in a
shit-storm and you don’t even know when to keep your flapping mouth shut! I
ought to shoot you right here and now. I should gun you down, and kick your
body into the fucking river.”
“Why don’t you, then?” Dex’s
voice was cool, but his eyes were filled with a controlled rage.
“Somebody wants to see you. Wants
a little chat.”
“Who?”
“Your guardian angel. A man named
Romero.”
“Never heard of him.”
“He’s heard of you, boy.”
Dex considered this. “Fuck him.
He’ll have to come get me himself.”
Jim grinned, and slowly removed
his jacket, dropping it to the track. “You know what, Dexter? I was hoping you’d
say something like that.” He rolled his shoulders, and cracked his knuckles,
and only then did Dex
notice
Jim’s athletic breadth of shoulder. He was
a pugilist, that much was clear. He had some
experience.
“Be careful what you bite off,”
said Dex, glancing again at the SIMs. They were motionless. So - the wolfhounds
had been called off. The idiots had been trying to kill him, and only now,
finally, had their insane hunt been stopped by people with authority. So - now
it was just him and Jim?
“Whatever I bite, I chew,” said
Jim, stopping a few feet from Dex. “One last chance. Are you coming without a
fight? Or do I have to break a few bones to persuade you?”
Dex grinned. “I’d rather fuck
your mother.”
Jim’s smile vanished and he
attacked, launching three right straights, a left cross, and a side-kick that
caught Dex by surprise. It hit him in the sternum, lifting him a little and
slamming him back onto his arse. Dex touched a hand to his chest, and looked
up, eyes flashing with anger. He got to his feet, lifted his fists, and
advanced on Jim...
They exchanged punches, and Dex
blocked Jim’s straights. Jim stepped in close with a hook, which Dex took on
his arm, and slammed his forehead into Jim’s nose, which gave with a
crack,
spurting blood. Jim stumbled back, eyes blazing with fresh hate, and snorted
out blood and snot.
“Gotta sting, that,” said Dex. “Better
get back on your chopper and
fuck off
before I do some real damage.”
Jim charged, throwing a fast
flurry of punches. Several hit Dex in the face, and his anger flared, and he
drove blows into Jim’s head and cheek. They danced for a few moments, both
hitting and blocking, flirting on a high wire. Then Dex started to tire. It had
been a long and stressful few days, and coupled with the recent excitement with
the SIMs, the chase in the forest and village, and his pursuit on the
rollercoaster track - Dex was bone weary. Ready to drop.
Jim caught him with a right hook,
and another, and another. Dex was forced down on one knee, panting, blood
drooling from his lips. He looked up - into a kick, which slammed him flat on
the rollercoaster track.
“You had enough, big boy?”
Dex glanced up. “That’s exactly
what your mom said.”
“Fuck you, Colls. You won’t be so
smug when you see your wife and kids. Maybe even now they’ve been destroyed,
like the others.”
“The others?”
Jim’s eyes shone. “You think you’re
so fucking smart, Mr Earth policeman. You have no idea what’s going on here, no
clue as to the bigger picture.” He glanced over at the chopper, and waved it
in. With rotors chopping and whining, it shifted sideways; there was a
clang
as the alloy ladder met with the high bridge.
“I know you have your brain in
your scrotum, if that’s what you mean.”
Jim pulled free a Makarov, and
knelt suddenly by Dex, and placed the gun to his head. “I ought to kill you
here and now, smartarse. Fill your dumb fucking skull with steel. It’s the
least you deserve.”
“Go on!” screamed Dex, suddenly. “Fucking
do it! You’re a fucking coward, and you’ve taken away everything I love! Kill
me, slot me, but please, do it now before your bad fucking cancer-breath
poisons me with its spewed vomit-stench! Go on, you coward, you sliver of cunt!
Shoot me!”
~ * ~
CHAPTER TEN
MONOLITH
Lady Goo Goo
leapt,
huge chomping mouth of razor teeth agape and slamming for Amba’s head, and she
knew,
knew
what it reminded her of: a striking cobra intent on eating
her head and body, swallowing her whole... Her arm snapped up, pointing the
shotgun, but not at Lady Goo Goo. No. She pointed it at Jonno, the simpering
helpful android. Both barrels barked, and the blasts decimated Jonno’s head,
punching him from his feet in a tangled mess. Lady Goo Goo dropped from the air
as if shot, and curled into a foetal ball, crooning, fingers twitching, a
puppet with its strings cut...
Amba strode over to Jonno. His
shattered head was a mess. One eye had gone, one cheekbone had disintegrated,
and she could see his teeth through an open, flapping skin window. His skull,
also, had partially vanished, taking a goodly sized section of brain with it.
Maybe a third of his entire head had been blasted clear by twin shotgun blasts.
Amba stood, and stared.
Jonno started to chuckle,
gurgling as blood collected in his throat and pooled in the hollows of his
blasted skull.
“Clever girl,” he said.
“What the fuck are you?”
“The puppet master,” he said.
“No.
What
are you?”
Jonno simply stared at her with
bright eyes, and licked at torn, shredded lips with his spaghetti tongue.
“You killed your Lady Goo Goo,”
he said, finally. And Amba felt like a fool, for it had been Jonno all along.
The whimpering creature back there was a construct, a weird type of android
construct, and here was Lady Goo Goo before Amba. Oh the irony. The comedy.
Amba had instructed Lady Goo Goo to take her - him? - to its own self. And the
puppet was too tough to be beaten; even by an Anarchy Model.
Amba crouched, then, and placed a
hand on Goo Goo’s. The android, or alien, or whatever the hell it was, it was
shaking, vibrating like a thousand volts of juice were ripping through its
nervous system.
“Tell me,” she said, voice barely
above a whisper. “What’s going on here? What game is being played?”
Goo Goo’s eyes met Amba’s.
“No game,” it said.
And the creature died.
Amba stood, and glanced around.
The jungle construct was limp and lifeless, as if with this creature’s death
all
life had been sucked out of the place. She spied her FRIEND, strode forward and
took the weapon.
You let them take me,
sulked Zi.
Shut up. We have bigger problems.
The SIMs?
Yes. And Napper, after that. You
know what these Secret Police types are like...
Leave them to me.
Amba moved quickly to the doors,
and slid out into the gloom of the Firelce Mountain High-Security Military
Facility.
~ * ~
Dex saw the
insane
light in Jim’s eyes. The slap of the wind from the rotors was rhythmic,
hypnotic, as the world fell into treacle slow-motion and Dex licked his lips,
watched Jim’s mind
crack
like a rotten egg as the anger and hatred
washed over him. He saw the finger tighten on the trigger. Dex had pushed Jim
beyond the event horizon, and there was no going back; for whatever reasons,
Jim hated Dex, hated him with a venom like some scumbag shit bag alien - and
despite his orders, despite his training, he was going to kill Dex on that high
rollercoaster bridge and simply face the consequences...