Ann Aguirre: Havoc

Tam’s path took them through the neutral zone, down two levels, and out the other side. The smell alone told her they were getting close to what had been Grigor’s territory. Farther on, blood smeared the walls, remnants of the battle where most of his brutes died. It had taken days to haul away the bodies.

“Left at the next turn,” she said.

She sent RC-17 in to make sure no squatters had taken possession of the area, then she led her crew along to where the hallway widened into a great room. Through there and deeper in the zone, they’d hidden several crates. The stillness was making her nervous, so she quickened her step, not pausing until she opened the supply-room doors. Rubbish and empty containers were piled up in front, disguising the treasures hidden deeper within.

“Grab as much as you can carry,” Dred said.

The hover dolly would’ve made this job easier, but it also would’ve been harder to maneuver, and it would’ve invited notice. Better to use manual labor and get it done the old-fashioned way. She and Tam scrutinized the supplies while Martine perched atop a box, reclining like a cat.

“Food first,” Tam suggested.

“That’s a genius idea.” Martine was smirking. “Are you sure nuts and bolts aren’t more important? If this death trap falls apart, we’ll choke faster than we starve.”

His dark eyes flashed at her. Dred left them bickering amicably as she prowled through the salvage. Once she designated the crates that needed to be moved right away, Jael piled four boxes in his arms, and she pretended she didn’t realize he was showing off. She and Martine took two each, as did Tam.

“RC-17 can scout for us on the way back,” Tam said.

“Agreed.” She deployed the bot and let it scurry around corners.

It was programmed to beep in sequence, then speak an alert message if it encountered other life-forms. In here, it was best to assume they were hostile and respond accordingly. She moved cautiously behind the bot while they retraced their steps.

“Hard to believe this place was full of people, not that long ago,” Martine said.

“Life is change.” Jael wore his customary insouciant expression, the one that suggested he had no deeper feelings.

That look was a liar.

Dred drew him aside while Tam and Martine argued over the next supply priority. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, queenie. What makes you think otherwise?” The flat tone gave away more than he intended.

I know you better than that now.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said.

He pushed out a breath, his blue eyes unusually dark. “I’m thinking about Einar, all right? He was a bastard and a murderer or he wouldn’t have been here, but I’ve not had so many friends in my life that I can just shrug him off.”

“I know what you mean.” She wanted to put a hand on his arm or run her fingers through his hair. That longing became a spike in her chest, but she didn’t act on it. “I feel like I let him down.”

“Me too,” he whispered.

Before she could respond, Jael whirled in response to the RC-17 unit’s beeping wildly. “Organics detected. Unauthorized personnel.”

“Boxes down,” Dred ordered. “Looks like we get to fight.”

Martine dropped her burden and popped her neck on each side. “And to think I was afraid this would be boring.”

“Since when?” Jael asked. “There’s always the threat of imminent violence. That’s why we vacation here.”

Please don’t let them be mercs. We’re not ready to take on an armored unit.

Dred felt naked without her chains, but she swung around the corner with a blade in each hand. She was relieved to see four of Silence’s killers, even odds. These men were dressed in black from head to toe, blood-whorl patterns on their forearms and their faces made up like skulls. Possibly they had broken off from the larger group and been sent on some dark errand.

A hunting party. Time to make them prey.

Like all of Silence’s crew, this lot didn’t speak. There were no growls of rage, no threats; the enemies just readied their weapons. Each one of them faced off against an opponent, though Dred knew from prior experience that Jael could’ve taken all four by himself. But she didn’t like revealing his inhuman prowess, even to her inner circle. If anyone else figured out his healing trick, they’d cut him open just to watch him seal the wound. Queensland still had its share of sadistic bastards. In a place like Perdition, it couldn’t be otherwise.

Dred’s opponent was tall and gaunt with a spidery quality to his limbs. His long face, painted like a skull, along with yellowed eyes, gave him the look of a man who was already dead. As they circled, he flashed her a glimpse of his tongueless mouth, likely to intimidate her with his commitment to Silence’s madness; his tongue had been severed at the base, so there was only a pink scar at the back. Revulsion did creep down her spine like scuttling, segmented legs, but she didn’t let it affect her determination to kill the bastard.

When he lunged at her, she spun to the side, nearly slamming into Martine, who aimed a scowl at her. Dred was better with her chains than close-up with knives; she knew better than to let the man grapple. He had better reach, and Silence’s crew was fast with their garrotes. He could slice clean through her throat if she gave him an opening.

She lashed out, first with her right hand, then her left, but he blocked both strikes. He nearly snagged her wrist, but she twisted out of the attempted hold and came out with her knife still in her hand. You’ve gotten sloppy, relied on the chains too much. Dred tried to remember old techniques and circled her knives so he’d be watching those instead of her feet. When she was sure he was waiting for a blade strike, she kicked him in the crotch. Silence’s men still had testicles apparently; he flinched enough to give her an opening and she slashed a line across his throat. The skin peeled back in a wet red bubble, then he toppled.

Martine and Jael had already dropped theirs, but Tam was still working. He said without turning, “Feel free to wade in. We need to get those supplies back.”

Jael ended the fight with a closed-fist blow to the man’s temple. He didn’t look strong enough for that to be a one-shot kill, but the enemy dropped like a stone. Martine regarded him with a speculative expression, gaze skimming down his lean frame, taking in the ropy musculature and the deceptive breadth of his biceps.

“Secret technique?” she asked with a raised brow.

Dred wasn’t sure if the other woman could be trusted, but her options for lieutenants had shrunk with all the dying, plus Wills’s betrayal after the massacre on Grigor’s turf. The fact that they’d won in the end didn’t change how many men she’d lost, and there would be no reinforcements. She was watching Martine, for sure, but she couldn’t afford to cut her out of the loop. The woman was fierce and ruthless, and she wasn’t psychotic, which was more than could be said for most of Perdition’s inmates.

“I studied for decades with a bunch of monks,” Jael said, straight-faced.

“I’m sure. Because our people are known for discipline.”

“Our people?” Tam asked.

“Convicts. The lawfully challenged, if you prefer.”

Jael laughed. “Lawfully challenged. I like that.”

Dred interrupted, “The longer we stand here, the likelier it is we run into more trouble. Let’s get these supplies back to Queensland before they decide we’ve abandoned the place, and Ike’s facing a revolt.”

“You think that could happen?” Martine wanted to know.

Dred shrugged. “In here? Probably. We need to be there, reminding the men that they can’t believe that merc’s promises. Otherwise . . .”