Tim Lebbon - Reaper's Legacy

“I knew he’d never catch you,” Reaper said.

“What?”

Reaper glanced over at Jack, and a ghost of something passed from his face, leaving only his brutal expression behind. What the hell was that? Jack thought. It sounded for a moment like he cared .

“Miller is a man obsessed,” Reaper said. “London is his playground, and Irregulars are his test subjects. You know all that. He yearns to get his hands on Superiors, too. See how different we are.” Reaper tapped his head.

“He’s never caught one of yours?”

“Some. They haven’t been seen since.”

“Probably dead, then,” Jack said coldly.

Reaper shrugged as if unconcerned. “As to why I left him alive? London is much more my playground than his. And he is one of my toys. Get rid of Miller, and things around here won’t be as…exciting.”

“You mean that,” Jack said. “You really mean it.” Reaper walked on ahead and Fleeter followed, walking close to the tall man in black. She touched his arm, slid her hand down, and for the briefest moment they entwined fingers. Then Reaper shook her off, and Fleeter hung back to let him walk ahead.

Jack looked away. That was his father, with another woman. A deep sadness engulfed him, for his mother and Emily, and also because he was not surprised. Reaper projected himself as a heartless, superior man, but he drank whiskey like water, and now it appeared he and Fleeter might be an item. The more Jack saw brief flashes of his father in Reaper’s expression and demeanour, the greater the distance seemed between them.

“What about this time?” Jack asked. “Will you kill him now?”

“That’s down to Miller,” Reaper said without turning around. “It always is.”

They walked on, following the course of the Thames. Fleeter flipped now and then to scout their way ahead, and once she told them to change direction and divert around the charred remains of a school. She did not say why, and Jack and his friends did not ask.

Sparky and Jenna walked close to Jack, hand in hand. Their togetherness pleased him, but also made him feel more alone. Jenna could smile and Sparky could give him the finger, but they all knew that things could never be the same again.

Close to East India Dock Road, Reaper called a halt. They entered a hotel through its smashed front door and waited in the reception area while Fleeter did her thing. For several minutes Reaper sat separate from Jack and his two best friends, barely acknowledging their presence. Sparky perused the hotel’s guest book, and even when he became quietly excited when he found a rock star’s name, Reaper did not react.

Jack sat back in a comfortable chair and closed his eyes. His father was as much an enigma to him now as he was when he’d first clapped eyes on Reaper. Perhaps somewhere deep down he was helping because of Emily and his wife. But perhaps not. If he was not prepared to open up and reveal which, then Jack would have to step away. He’d done all he could to get his father back.

A clap! stirred dust across the hotel lobby, and Fleeter sauntered from between two marble columns.

“The Chopper was right,” she said. “Half a mile past the Millennium Dome on the north bank. The container yard’s massive, but I got in pretty close and saw some of them patrolling.”

“You found the containers they’re using?” Jack asked.

Fleeter glanced at Reaper. He nodded for her to continue.

“Not as such. But I got close to an open area in the piled containers. A sort of courtyard. I found one route that twisted its way in there, so there’ll be others. And there were sharpshooters up on some of the higher boxes.”

“How many troops?” Reaper asked.

“Difficult to say. I couldn’t get too close, didn’t want to risk giving anything away. But I saw at least twenty in the courtyard. Dressed casual, not in Chopper outfits, but they’re slack at hiding their weapons.”

“Could be countless others in the containers,” Jenna said.

“Yeah, great place for a barracks,” Sparky said.

“Tell the others,” Reaper said.

“Hang on a minute.” Sparky walked from behind the reception desk, twirling a set of keys on one finger. “We can’t just storm in all gung-ho.”

“I don’t storm anywhere,” Fleeter said.

“You’re as good as a blazing gun,” Jenna said. “All you Superiors are. No subtlety, that’s your problem. So, we go in like that and they’ll respond in kind. Who’s to say they won’t just execute whatever prisoners they have and then get away somehow? No way they’d risk an HQ like this without having a pretty good escape plan. In case of…” She waved her hand at Reaper.

“In case of something like this,” Sparky said.

“So what do you suggest?” Reaper asked.

“The girl,” Jenna said. She glanced around at them all, and her gaze finally rested on Jack.

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Show of strength.” He glanced at Fleeter. She was smiling at him, leaning against a wall, hand on hip. She was trying to look seductive, and after what he’d seen her do he found that grotesque. But they could work together.

“You and me?” Fleeter asked.

Jack nodded.

“We go in, kill the girl, show them they don’t have a hope.” Fleeter’s voice was high with excitement.

“No!” Jenna said. “Don’t you get it, you stupid bitch? You don’t kill her. You don’t kill anyone. You just—”

A clap! , a swish of air across the hotel lobby, and between blinks Fleeter was behind Jenna with one arm tugging across her neck. Jenna gasped in surprise, then choked, clawing at Fleeter’s arm. But the woman was stronger than she looked.

Sparky threw a punch and Fleeter stepped aside, dodging the blow without having to flip.

“Stop it,” Jack said, but no one heard. He glanced at his father, breathed deeply, and spoke the words again, this time imbuing them with Reaper’s power.

Behind the counter, cobwebbed keys jangled on their hooks, and dust rose from the lobby carpet. The building itself seemed to grumble, and everyone froze.

With a grunt, Jenna shoved Fleeter away. Sparky glared at the woman, and Reaper watched them all with a humourless smile.

“What Jenna said,” Jack said. “We don’t kill anyone. We need a distraction, then Fleeter and I go in and take the girl. Bring her out. Show them what we can do right under their noses, and that to stand against us will be hopeless.”

“Even if there’s forty of them?” Sparky said. “Eighty? A hundred?”

“They’re ants,” Reaper said.

“Ants with machine guns!”

“We’ll force a stalemate,” Jack said. “They’ve got a perfect hiding place, but it’ll go against them as well. They might know the area, but they can’t see around corners.”

“And you can?” Breezer asked.

Jack shrugged. He hadn’t tried. “With the talents we have here, we can find our way in. And it’s the best way. If what we’re doing here is actually going to help anyone, we have to move on. Them picking up Irregulars and hunting for…” He nodded at Reaper and Fleeter. “And you killing them whenever you can. If any sort of progress is to be made, the killing has to stop. Here and now.”

“Progress,” Reaper said slowly, as if tasting the word.

“I’ll be your distraction,” Sparky said.

“Me too.” Jenna turned her back on Fleeter and faced Jack. “And maybe Breezer and a couple of his people can help.”

Reaper grunted in agreement.

Jack experienced a sudden, overwhelming sense of familiarity—the way his father stood with his hands behind his back, the brush of his hair, the shadow of weak light falling across his cheek and chin. He wanted to go to him and hug him, squeeze away the last two years and tell him how much he loved him, and how much they all needed him.