Beluga Fay (Dragon Bone Hill) (24 page)

“No, it was not.”

“This was why I wanted you here, Colonel. The guards have been losing control, and I need to know we will get to the other side in one piece.”

“My people are under strict orders...”

“That does not seem to mean much any longer.” Pointing up and down the road, Pym was smiling. The failure of control had given him one more bargaining chip, and it seemed decisive.

The Captain did not look phased by the observation. “I’m not entirely certain you have or can get them.”

The Colonel looked from the Captain to Pym. “Can you?”

“I can—I can even get fuel.” Pointing to the car—this appeared to make the Captain nervous.

“Yes,” Tomás continued, “but robbing the militia columns is not the same as stealing enough diamonds to get you through the Wall.”

“If we do not have them, you can kill the lot of us.”

“If,” the Colonel followed, “you do not have them—we
will
.” As the Colonel spoke, the Captain quickly stepped forward and grabbed Pym by his shirt collar—wrenching him forward.

As Tomás did this, he’d failed to see the elbow; this caught him just below the chin. In consequence, he was driven back a couple of steps. Recovering from the blow, he grabbed for his holster, but the flap was snapped closed. Having released the snap on his before getting out of the car Pym had his weapon out. At this the guards stopped laughing at their officer and were bringing their rifles to bear. “Don’t!” Pym shouted over his shoulder. The Colonel raised a hand to the men; Pym could hear the weapons ease to a resting position.

“You’ve made your point, Mr. Pym. We’ll take delivery of the stones on the other side of the gate, but right on the other side. There will be no further negotiations once there—is that clear?”

Pym nodded. “There are to be no more than two security guards. I don’t want you taking delivery and then killing my people.”

“We wouldn’t...” the Captain began, but Pym interrupted him.

“You are letting out a fair number of the children of Salazar’s government—many children of Cabinet members. There will be significant blowback on this. It would be better for you and Salazar if they simply disappeared rather than have them pop up in the new capital or other places about the country. Killing them would be best for you. I’m just telling you, if you or your people attempt this,
I
will respond.”

The Captain seemed about ready to answer this, but the Colonel held up a hand. “Mr. Pym, the world outside the gate is not what it once was—even a few months ago. There will be no blowback—there are hardly enough forces available to maintain control of the cities, and none for us. You’ve noticed our condition?”

Titus nodded.

 “These are the best we have to present to you—some are in much worse shape.”

“I understand.”

“Thought you may. The world you will be entering will have very little to offer any of your people, but if you insist on getting out, I will not attempt to stop you—as long as you have another full pouch for us. Are we agreed?”

“We are—I’ll be in contact when we are coming over. Which gate are we to use?”

“This one—it will have to be late in the evening to make certain most of the guards are asleep. When you come across, it will have to be on foot.”

“They will be armed.”

“Of course, but be certain they are well-prepared. If your people demonstrate any behavior that could threaten security, or Captain Tomás, we will open fire.”

“Yes, I’ve been prepping them, but I will be coming along. If any of my people get too anxious, that will be dealt with immediately by myself.”

“Best that you are in the lead; it will make everyone more comfortable.” The Captain observed.

Titus thought that might make him a more tempting target as well. “I’ll be with them, but I will be wherever I may control the group best.”

The Colonel smiled, seeming to understand the anxiety. “Very well,” he answered and turned for his vehicle, followed by Tomás. Something about Tomás’s behavior had bothered Titus. In their last meetings, he had always been controlled and calm, but he’d also been in control of the situation—now he appeared on the very ragged edge of command and that of himself. Whatever was going on over the Wall had taken much of the man’s identity with it.

 “Don’t know—told you that several times already.” Lander was in a mood and had been since they discovered where it was Pym intended to take them. The evening was deepening, and the cloud cover meant they had virtually no light. Titus wouldn’t allow any headlights either for fear of militia, but they were also north of the Dead District surrounding the Hill. Light would attract anything in that district, and he didn’t want to deal with that. Everyone was so terrified of the Hill, and what lived there, that he could not expect them to put up much of a fight. Grabbing the radio again, he barked into it. “Are we there yet—my people are getting nervous?”

“Keep off the radio, Lander, or I’ll take it from you.” Pym’s voice came back calm and quiet. “When we get there, you’ll know, because I’ll pull over.”

Lander threw the radio on the dash and stared out the window. There was something wrong with this, and they all knew it. Pym and his people never worked together, and that had been agreed upon from the beginning. It had never been an open agreement, but there were no examples, until now, when this needed to be stated.

“I don’t like this,” the driver said, after a block or two of silence. For a moment, Lander ignored the concern, then it dawned on him that he was supposed to be leading so he turned to the man.

“It’ll be all right—we’re all armed and have vehicles. If they come out, we can fight them off and get away before they can mass.” Placing a hand on the man’s shoulder, he attempted to comfort him. It wasn’t a gesture that came naturally to Lander, and he seemed to recognize this because the driver didn’t appear comforted by the gesture. The worst part was that Lander had been trying to be sympathetic and understanding. He recognized that most needed this and he was required to share it, but he just didn’t have it in him to give. Most seemed to sense this on some level and felt more creeped out by any gesture of sympathy than comforted by it.

Eventually he would have to do something about that. If he could not offer the warmth needed, he would have to find someone to stand in for him. Synon was excellent in this respect, but she would not work with him under any circumstances—nor would any of the women that remembered what he and the others had done before Titus. When Pym was displaced and disappeared, he’d have to do something about all of them. There would be little hope of controlling the Fay with their disruptive influence never more than a sound bite away. Yet, if not Synon, who? Bannly would only bring back memories of his leadership—no matter how pathetic that was—and he was not sympathetic to his bid for control of the Fay. Not Synon; not Bannly; not any of his new crew—they were all about as flat and angry as he.

Privately, Lander acknowledged to himself how much anger he was carrying around and what this could do to them all. Of late, he was attempting to suppress or channel this. It hadn’t been working out. But since Pym was away most of the time, he had little trouble sweeping his failure under the carpet—eventually, though, this would begin to bulge. Was beginning to in several abandoned rooms, already. Whatever was going to happen between them was going to have to happen soon, if he was not to be brought down by the question of missing women. If he were lucky, tonight would be that moment that would turn the last of Pym’s support against him. After all, any work so close to the Hill was dangerous—especially in the mostly abandoned northern districts.

After a few more blocks, the column, small but still worthy of the name, pulled over. As Bannly climbed out, he looked around and stretched. There was a ricochet of cracks that flew from his spine.

“You,” Synon laughed, “are getting old.”

The elder scowled and walked up to the lead vehicle as Pym climbed out.

“We’re too close.” Bannly looked south as he spoke, his voice uneasy.

“They don’t come out during the day,” Titus answered, as the pair was joined by Synon.

“I’ve tried to tell him,” speaking to Bannly, “but he won’t listen.”

“Our supplies are running low—food, fuel, and clothing—if we don’t top them up soon, we’re going to be in serious trouble.”

“But we’ve taken the southern markets,” Bannly complained.

“Certainly, but holding them may be difficult. Besides, there is still the issue of fuel and clothing.”

“We’re not going to find any fuel here.” Lander said, joining the group.

Pym looked at him a moment and thought about putting the man back in his vehicle but knew keeping him close was preferable to having him plotting behind his back.

“There may be a few abandoned cars—in garages and such. Clothing should be ample.”

“It appears,” Lander answered, “the Hill’s been over this place—thoroughly.”

“What they were looking for and what we’re looking for may not be one and the same.” Titus answered.

Lander flinched and turned back to his vehicle and crew.

“Was foolish to bring him along,” Bannly observed, and Synon agreed.

“More to leave him alone.”

“But you’ve taken the markets—food is plentiful again.”

“Not sure how long we can hold them—besides, we’re going to have to trade for the food and goods. If we just take them, there is no incentive for anyone to acquire goods to trade.”

“So clothing and any canned goods we can find?” Synon asked.

Titus nodded. “Any unique items wouldn’t go amiss I’m certain.”

Bannly looked over the neighborhood. “We should stick together—in case there are any surprises waiting in there for us.”

“Teams of four should be enough—we’re all armed.”

“They’re crazy on the Hill.” Synon shared with no one in particular.

“If we meet up with any, we’ll have to show them we’re just as crazy.” Bannly and Synon both looked at him, but Pym couldn’t quite make out what these looks meant. He supposed there was something of the incredulous in the glance, yet he wasn’t going to pursue the matter—the day was better than half gone, and they didn’t have the time to waste.

“You should each take your own teams with you—to bolster their courage—and I’ll let Lander take his own team. You tell him that, Bannly. He’s to start with the odd numbers on the far side of the street. Bannly you take the evens on the same side. I’ll take the odds here and Synon the evens.”

Sighing in resignation, Bannly disappeared.

Synon turned to Titus, placing a hand on his shoulder. “This is all going to go to shit.”

“We’re safe.”

“No, I mean keeping him around, letting Lander have his own people.”

“We’ve solved the food problem—that’s severely weakened his support.”

“That may make him move all the sooner, before he loses even more.”

“Just keep a watch on him—and it’s the exact reason I brought him along.”

“Kill him and be done with it.”

“Can’t. There are factions back at the warehouse that would use that to attempt a coup—he’s not stupid.”

Synon didn’t respond, which Titus took to mean she agreed.

Stepping away, he called after his team and took the first odd numbered house.