Tube Riders, The (45 page)

‘About fifty miles,’ Marta told him.

Ishael shook his head. ‘They’d run us down. Tell him to look for a small settlement, maybe the remains of a highway service station. We can maybe switch a battery from an abandoned car and bump start it.’

Marta nodded and turned around.

Carl looked around at the others. ‘Not getting the rub of the green, really, are we?’

Owen stared at him. ‘What the hell are you on about?’

Chapter Fifty-Three

New Order

‘Here. You may need this.’

Dreggo looked up. Hands as huge and pale as dinner plates held out a glass of water. She took it gratefully, finishing it in one swallow. She looked up into the Governor’s expressionless face. ‘I thought you might need these too,’ he said, indicating behind him.

What she saw there was like something out of a mirage. A large plastic container filled with steaming water, beside it a small fold-out table holding a fresh set of clothes. She had no doubt they would be her size.

‘Where did you…?’

The Governor smiled. ‘I anticipated certain situations. Now, let me leave you a few minutes, and then we will talk more.’

The Governor disappeared around the side of the truck. Dreggo and slammed the rear door shut, cutting off the horrors of her past, maybe. Karmski was dead now; she had faced up to all the nightmares that had plagued her and dragged her through the bloodiest days of her life. She felt the murderous strength of revenge flooding through her, and her mind felt vital, clear and invigorated. She slipped off her bloodied clothes and let them fall to the floor.

She used a ladle to take the worst of Karmski’s blood off her. It felt good to be clean, though it hurt her to see the extent of the damage to her body. Tears filled her eyes, but she washed them away with a handful of warm water.

The clothes the Governor had left for her were similar to those that Clayton wore, but sized for a woman and with a crest on the right chest that surprised her, a black circle with a pair of crosses in the centre.

It was a Mega Britain military rank. The crest on Clayton’s uniform had a black circle with just one cross. Dreggo frowned. That little second cross meant Dreggo was officially Clayton’s superior.

She looked around for the Governor. He was standing in the shade near the truck, his back to her, arms folded. She waited a moment, unsure what to say, but he seemed to sense her and turned. He smiled.

‘Does it fit?’

‘Yes, perfectly. But…’ She wanted to say,
I’m a prisoner. I’m not here by choice
.

‘Dreggo, I trust you,’ the Governor said. ‘I have delivered you a gift as a token of respect. Karmski was a great scientist, among Mega Britain’s best. That he was in possession of a heart as black as coal was his undoing, as were the secret cameras that only higher government officials knew about. But still, due to his brilliance, his death weighs heavily on my heart. That, though, is a weight I am prepared to bear, if it brings me your trust, your respect.’

Dreggo had a million things to say. They clamored at her, refusing to form a queue. She blurted, ‘I was taken in the first place because of you. I’m a … a monster because of what your scientists did to me!’

The Governor lifted a hand. ‘I admit we have research facilities. But the programs were supposed to be voluntary. I was never aware that anyone was being taken against their will, or of the atrocities. I can guarantee that a full investigation will be carried out once this terrible business is over with. I lead a large country, Dreggo. My eyes cannot see everywhere at once, and I trust few to see for me.’

She held his gaze a few seconds and then looked away.
Can I trust him?
His arguments made sense, but it was difficult to break the shackles of torture and abuse that had surrounded her all her life.

The Governor spoke. ‘How did it feel, Dreggo? How did it feel with your hands around his neck?’

So he had watched her. She’d suspected he might. She held his gaze steadily. ‘It felt necessary,’ she said.

‘The power of revenge,’ he said, nodding, a small smile on his lips. ‘I never did go for all that
turn the other cheek
business. Think about how you felt before, and how you feel now. Do you not feel free?’

‘Freer than I’ve ever felt,’ she admitted.

‘And now imagine that you’re still carrying that weight around your neck. Feel the years, the decades pass. How do you feel?’

She thought for a moment. ‘Suffocated?’

The Governor nodded. ‘I’ve helped you destroy some of the demons of your past. The demons of mine are a lot harder to find, but will you help me? Will you be on my side?’

Dreggo thought for a moment. She looked at the Governor, her eyes moving slowly down his face, past his neck, to his chest. She stared hard, concentrating, until she was sure she could hear the low thud of his heart. She stepped forward, lifted one hand, and touched him.

His own hands closed over hers and he pulled her closer, the strength she could feel in his hands and arms astonishing.

With her face just inches from his, she whispered, ‘Yes.’

‘Then Dreggo,’ he replied, his voice a low rumble, ‘Welcome. Now you lead this operation. Find me the Tube Riders, and let’s bring this unpleasant matter to a close.’

#

Clayton knew something was amiss from the moment he saw the Governor and Dreggo emerge from the trees. Behind him, the cacophony from the dump and the scrounging Mistakes had begun to burrow into his skull, while the stench filled every pore of his body.

Opening the gate had been easy. The checkpoint guards, dulled over years of putting up with the smell, had not questioned his authority once they had seen his rank, and the gate was duly opened. Clayton’s convoy now waited on the other side, the men and the Huntsmen all boarded and ready. It was just Dreggo and the Governor holding everything up.

Clayton looked around uncomfortably. A few hundred feet down slope, the grotesque carnival of rubbish clearing continued, the howls and groans of the Mistakes filling the air as they scrabbled for scraps of rotten food and anything that could be of use. It scared the hell out of him, watching the zombie parade, but he found the way they just switched off without warning at any time even worse. Dozens of them littered the slope, on their knees, heads slumped forward on their chests. The closest was not twenty feet away, its back turned to him, head hung forward. He had considered having his agents clear it, but the checkpoint guards had warned him that disturbing one Mistake might set off the rest of them. So, as he waited for the Governor and Dreggo, he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder every few seconds just to make sure the Mistake hadn’t moved, that it hadn’t come any closer. His fingers rested on his gun just in case.

They’d been gone more than two hours. Clayton had sent an agent off to find them, but the man had returned with terror in his eyes, babbling that the Governor did not want to be disturbed. Clayton hadn’t asked for details; he didn’t want to know. He now waited by the gate, alone besides the two checkpoint guards standing a few feet away, who were eager to get the gate closed and the electrification back on.

He noticed Dreggo’s change of clothes immediately. The black DCA uniform was a stark difference to the bloodied trousers and ripped up shirt she’d been wearing before. Her hair, also, which had been a matted mess of blood, was now cleaned and tied back behind her head.

If it wasn’t for the metal plate that covered half her face, he could almost have seen her as a woman.

As they walked towards him Dreggo chatted amiably with the Governor, smiles and even laughter passing between them. Above them, rising up from behind the trees that topped the rise, was a plume of smoke.

They stopped in front of him. ‘Good work,’ the Governor said. ‘Are we ready to move?’

‘Yes, sir.’

The Governor turned to Dreggo. ‘Send two Huntsmen south along the Fence to pick up the trail. It seems fairly straightforward to me where they’re heading though.’

‘Land’s End?’ Clayton asked. ‘If they can get out to the Scilly Isles they might be able to find a boat to take them down the coast of Brittany. There are rumours of pirates out there.’

The Governor shook his head. ‘Again, Mr. Clayton, you underestimate them. They’ve led us this far. They could have turned south at any time, tried to find a port where they might have found someone willing to risk trying to smuggle them across the Channel. But they haven’t because they know it’s futile. They know there’s no way out of Mega Britain by sea. They’re going underground.’

‘The tunnel at Lizard Point,’ Dreggo said.

Clayton opened his mouth to say something to her. Then he noticed the rank crest on her uniform. So, he’d been relieved of power, replaced by this half human bitch. His anger boiled, but he said nothing. He felt the bulge of the remote in his pocket pressing against his arm. In her smugness she appeared to have forgotten about it, but he hadn’t. And he’d use it before she ever got a chance to take it from him. They’d both go down together.

‘Lizard Point is around three hours from here over uneven terrain,’ the Governor said. ‘We had best get moving.’

‘I thought the tunnel was sealed,’ Clayton said.

The Governor smiled. ‘It is. But the Tube Riders don’t know that.’

Clayton nodded. So, it was soon to end. Within a few hours they would all face their fates, his and Dreggo’s undoubtedly among them.

He let his hand brush against the bulge in his pocket one more time.

Chapter Fifty-Four

Community

The land was leveling out towards the coast when the engine began to choke. The Land Rover bumped a few times and then the engine cut out. Reeder frowned and dropped it into neutral to freewheel a few final feet before coming to a stop by the side of the road.

‘That’s it, I guess,’ Ishael said. ‘How far is it from here?’

‘From the map I’d guess about ten miles,’ Reeder said.

Marta sighed. ‘We walk from here?’

‘There should be the remains of a town just over that hill,’ Reeder said, pointing at a rise ahead of them. The old weed-strewn highway angled up and over the crest of the rise, a stand of trees on either side. ‘It might be worth a try to see if there are any old vehicles lying about. We might find a spare battery, or even another usable vehicle.’

‘I’ll go with Reeder,’ Ishael said. ‘The rest of you should stay here.’

‘To hell with that,’ Marta said. ‘We stay together.’

‘Live together, die together,’ Jess muttered suddenly, and the others looked at her. ‘That’s what Simon would have said.’

Marta put a hand on Jess’s shoulder. ‘Jess–’

‘He would also have wanted this seen through to the end.’ She brushed a hand through her hair, matted and caked with dirt. ‘His death
won’t
be for nothing. We all go together, and if necessary we carry on to this tunnel place on foot.’

Marta looked at the others. ‘Are we agreed?’

Ishael and Reeder both nodded.

‘Okay.’ Marta looked over at the back of the Land Rover. There, curled up in a huddle, Paul, Owen and Carl were sleeping soundly. ‘I’d better wake them then.’

Five minutes later they were all standing on the road, the Land Rover emptied of its supplies. They all had bags slung over their shoulders. Marta, Paul, Owen and Jess still had their clawboards. Carl and Ishael carried the last of their guns, and Reeder held the map.

‘If we see any Mistakes keep your voices down and give them a wide berth,’ Reeder said. ‘Chances are there’ll be some in the town over there. What we don’t want is to be attacked again, because we can’t outrun them.’

The others nodded. With Reeder and Ishael in the lead they set off.

Owen walked close to Carl as they walked in a thin line down the side of the highway, staying as near to the hedge as possible. ‘Do you reckon they still have baguettes in France?’ Owen said. ‘I’m bloody starving.’

‘What’s a baguette?’

‘It’s like a long stick of bread. They put ham and cheese inside. I saw them on a DVD about France we watched at school once.’

‘You mean bread rolls? About this size?’ He indicated with his hands. When Owen nodded, he smiled. ‘We have those in the country,’ he said. ‘Mother used to give me one for lunch on schooldays. Cheddar and bacon was my favorite.’

Owen grimaced. ‘Just shut up. You’re making me hungry!’

‘Yeah, I’m making myself hungry too.’

They were silent for a few minutes, and then Owen said, ‘Do you think about your mother a lot?’

Carl nodded. ‘Yeah, all the time. My father was a pretty tough man to live with, but somehow she managed it. Even when he was being a bully she was kind to me. She always loved me. Now, although I know my father’s dead, I don’t know what’s happened to my mother. That cyborg woman might have killed her, or she might still be alive. I want to go back, but I know that right now I can’t.’

Owen looked sad. ‘I’m sure she’s fine,’ he said.

‘Yeah, I hope so. I have to just keep believing it. It gives me something to hold on to. What about you? Is your mother back in London?’

Owen shook his head. He pouted his lips. ‘My mother’s been dead since I was a little kid, and my father’s been gone as long as I can remember. I don’t know what happened to him, but he took off somewhere and never came back. Even though I hate him for leaving us, I still hope that he found a decent life somewhere. Perhaps without the stress of dealing with Paul and me, life’s a bit easier and he’s happy.’

‘I hope so.’

‘A large part of me thinks he’s dead, though,’ Owen said. ‘People don’t get happy endings in this country anymore.’

‘We might,’ Carl said. ‘If we escape from the Huntsmen, Dreggo and the DCA and get over to France, things might be different. We might get a bath, and we might even get a baguette.’

Owen smiled. ‘Yeah, I hope so. But whatever happens, I don’t think it’ll be a happy ending for any of us. Simon’s dead, your dad’s dead, Jess’s parents are dead. Tons of people have been killed. Even if we get to France, we’re cut, Carl. How old are you? I’m twelve.
Twelve
. And I’ve killed men. Every time I close my eyes for the rest of my life, I’m going to see the faces of those men I killed. Nothing can ever gloss over that, not baths, not baguettes, nothing.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s fucked. I just wanted to go to school, study about stuff then come home, play video games and be a pain in the ass for Paul.’

‘I guess we just do our best, and see what happens,’ Carl said.

‘Yeah, that’s about right.’

#

Paul, walking in front of Owen and Carl, felt a lump in his throat as he listened to his brother speak. He blamed himself for Owen being caught up in this mess, although he preferred Owen with him rather than back in London, alone. It especially hurt to hear Owen talk about his father, and the time was coming when Paul would have to tell his brother the truth. Owen had seen enough of life, he could handle the truth now, Paul thought.

In front of him Jess and Marta walked in silence, though Marta was holding Jess’s hand tightly in hers. They looked like two very dirty primary school children on a class outing. Of all of them Jess was suffering the most, but he hoped the girl would find the strength in herself that Simon had loved so much and pull through her grief. Marta was being strong for her, Marta who was always strong for everyone. He hoped she wasn’t about to crack under the pressure, because he felt that if Marta cracked, they would all fall apart. Switch’s absence made it worse for her. Switch and Marta had always been close, Switch sharing a bond with her that he wouldn’t allow with other people.

Paul always watched people carefully. He had learned over the years how to spot conflict in someone’s eyes, and he had seen a lot of it in Marta’s. He had noticed the way she looked at Ishael, and had recognised the pure delight she’d felt to see him alive. Paul also noticed the way she looked at Switch, almost with regret. But more than anything, he noticed the way she looked down, the sag in her jaw, the way her eyes hung at her feet when she thought no one was watching her. Here she was feeling a tentative love for someone, but in her heart she felt undeserving of it, felt that she had no right even thinking of it while people around her suffered and died.

He wanted to tell her it was all right, that she was allowed to feel something other than sorrow, that even amidst the ashes of their lives she was allowed to let a seed grow. He wanted to tell her, before something happened to him, before it was too late.

But again, as he walked along behind Marta and Jess, watching the way they leaned close like two long lost sisters finding each other for the first time, their hands and now arms intertwined, he could only keep his silence.

#

Ishael took the lead from Reeder as they reached the top of the hill. As the first rooftops of the town came into sight, he angled off the road on to the overgrown grass verge to give them a little more cover. Overhead, clouds had obscured the sun as it dipped towards the horizon, and a cold wind had risen. Darkness would come in an hour or so, and he was worried about what would happen then. Did these Mistakes become more active at night?

He jumped as his foot landed on something soft, and he looked down to see the decayed remains of a human lying in the grass at his feet. Hollow, bird-pecked eye holes stared up at him; a toothless black maw yawned wide. He took a few steps backwards in shock, but before he could say anything, one of the girls had seen it and let out a little cry of horror.

‘Quiet!’ Reeder hissed.

Up ahead of them, Ishael saw something detach itself from the hedgerow and take a few steps towards them.

‘Down,’ he said, waving a hand at the ground. ‘Keep still and stay quiet!’

Marta inched up alongside him. ‘Did it see us?’ she asked, nodding towards the Mistake lurching across the road thirty feet ahead of them.

‘Maybe.’

‘This is unfortunate,’ Reeder whispered. ‘We haven’t got time to get trapped here.’

The others had bunched up into a group. ‘Want me to create a distraction?’ Owen asked. ‘I’ll lead it up the road, then double back through the fields.’

‘No you damn well won’t,’ Paul said.

‘Just wait,’ Ishael told them. ‘Stay quiet, and … wait.’

The seconds dragged past like a heavy chain. The Mistake took a few slow steps across the road, turned towards them once, turned away, and finally slumped down on to its knees. It grunted once and went still.

‘Okay, move on,’ Ishael said. ‘Be careful not to disturb it.’

They moved on down towards the town. They passed the slumped Mistake, but it neither moved nor seemed to notice their presence.

Ishael glanced back as they passed, and saw the others do the same. His heart was hammering in his chest, the blood making his wounds throb. The thought of another mob of those monsters on their trail was enough to make his hands shake.

Then a light flicked on ahead of them.

‘Well, would you take a look at that,’ Reeder said, putting a hand on Ishael’s shoulder and making the other man jump.

‘John, where’s it coming from?’ Marta said.

‘It’s coming from one of the houses,’ Reeder told her.

‘But ... I thought this town was abandoned.’

‘Yes,’ Reeder replied. ‘So did we. It looks like we were wrong.’

‘And it looks like they have electricity too,’ Ishael said. ‘Those lights aren’t flickering like flames or gas burners would.’

Ishael led them on towards the town. Evening was beginning to draw in, and as the shadows lengthened they had more cover than before. Even so, they kept to the side of the road just in case they came across any more wandering Mistakes.

The closest houses were just a few feet away. A row of bungalows lined a meandering road into the centre of the small town. Some of the gardens were overgrown; some of the windows were smashed. Other houses, though, looked well kept, lights pressing against curtains giving the impression that the town was just like any other, closed down for the night after a busy working day, its inhabitants safe behind their doors and in front of their televisions.

‘Who the hell lives here?’ Paul wondered.

A door opened just a few doors down.

‘Back against that wall!’ Ishael hissed, and they ducked down, just as two children danced out into the street.

‘Tom! Brete! Come back inside!’ someone shouted, a woman’s voice, tinged with a hint of desperation. ‘How many times have I told you?’

The children laughed and joked, pushing each other. As a shadow fell over them from the doorway, the boy disengaged from the tussle and dashed back into the house. The other, the girl, stood up and brushed herself down. She peered into the dark, eyes searching. Suddenly her arm lifted, a finger picking them out.

‘Mother, there are some Wildmen over there, sitting in the dark. I count seven but there could be more. What are they doing?’

‘Oh, fuck,’ Ishael said.

‘Get in the house now!’ the woman hissed at the little girl.

Owen stood up. ‘Wait! We’re not Mistakes! We’re just normal people! Help us!’

Paul grabbed his shoulder, but it was too late. A howl went up from somewhere in the forest behind them. A moment later a hideous shrieking sound rose in answer.

The woman had come out into the road. ‘Who are you?’ she shouted. ‘If you’re spies, then the Wildmen are coming now.’

‘Let me go,’ Marta said, standing up.

#

Marta stepped out into the dim glow emitted from the open door and faced the woman and the girl in the street.

‘We need help,’ she said. ‘We have to get to Lizard Point, if you know where that is. Please, we’re not Mistakes, and we’re not spies. But bad people are following us.’

‘Whoever you are, it’s already too late,’ the woman said. With a grin almost of resignation, she looked over her shoulder. Cupping hands around her mouth, she hollered, ‘Redman!’

She was answered by a distant roar. The woman looked back at Marta. She was about thirty-five, and looked normal apart from something that was wrong with her arms. They were longer than they should be, stretching as far as her knees. Her fingers stretched even further, spindly like spiders’ legs.

Marta stepped forward. ‘Please help us!’

‘Bring your people out into the light,’ the woman said. Turning to the girl, she said, ‘Brete, get inside. Fetch your father.’

A man already stood in the doorway. He looked normal, as far as Marta could tell. ‘Who are these people?’ he asked.