Beluga Fay (Dragon Bone Hill) (8 page)

“Yes, but no one knows who’s taken it—unless you’ve been talking. New boyfriend in the militia?” The tweak at the man’s homophobia in the past would have been dangerous, but here it only reinforced his impotence—though still dangerous because Synon was uncertain of the man’s specific orientation. But sexual violence in men generally perplexed women, and the average woman reached for the lowest hanging fruit when it came to tormenting men—besides, they never appeared to get the manner in which sexuality and violence were married in the male psyche, Not that anyone else really understood that as well.

All that Lander offered the woman at this moment was a series of muttered epithets. Almost finished packing, the pair was interrupted when a runner ran into the room. Synon finished stuffing the last of the ammunition into the bag and looked at the boy, hardly ten, as they were bent over, hands on their knees, and attempting to catch their breath. “You okay?” Lander asked.

The kid nodded and straightened. “Police. A small convoy—looks to be supported by militia and private security.”

“Where?” Synon asked, throwing the rucksack over a shoulder.

“Main road, across from the eastern wall of Makati.”

“Probably a regular patrol.” Lander answered the frightened look on Synon’s face.

“Yes, but if they find us—or get wind of us—then it doesn’t matter what it is or isn’t. We’re not yet strong enough to hit them.”

Lander nodded. “What’s the boss want?”

“You’re to collect everyone you find and meet him back at the convenience store.”

“Tell him we’re on the way. You strong enough to run back?”

The kid nodded and disappeared.

“Titus may have killed us this time,” Lander sneered.

“He’ll have a plan—always has.” Though Synon sounded less certain than she had wanted to—the fear was beginning to wheedle itself into her, no matter what she did to keep it out. However, she didn’t let it stop her from moving, no matter how much she wanted to find a dark hole and crawl in.

With their rucksacks and two canvas bags, one over each shoulder, the pair jogged up to the store. Titus was standing outside smiling at them. “You’re here, good.”

Synon dropped her bags at his feet and leaned back against the wall, trying to catch her breath. The food and exercise had given her a lot of her strength back, but she was still working on stamina. The woman had never had much need of this before the Sweats and afterwards it was all about survival—but now the world was turning again.

“What,” gulping for air, Synon asked, “are we going to do?”

“Hide until they pass and then grab one or two stragglers.” A couple dozen Fay, who’d been chatting amongst themselves, surrounded the convenience store. As Titus spoke, nonetheless, the scene went completely quiet. After a moment, Lander spoke up—it had to have been Lander. Synon knew it would have to be him.

“No. I don’t care who you are and what you’ve done for us; I’m not being sacrificed for your arrogance.” Several voices, virtually everyone at the store, agreed.

Bannly had been a late arrival, but as Pym explained his idea, a look of dread and disbelief infiltrated the elder’s face. Synon had known the old man long enough to see this was the sort of foolishness he’d always been afraid of. No matter what, Synon was going to go with Pym, but even she was certain this would end badly. The militia, police, and security forces all had access to both small and heavy arms. Certainly, there would be a heavy caliber weapon, maybe even a canon, in the convoy. They had a few old trucks and cars that had seen better days—and they only had a few small arms, mostly pistols and automatics, with little by way of ammunition.

“Titus,” Bannly began, hesitantly, as Pym finished outlining the plan a second time, “sounds great, but we’re not trained for that sort of operation. We’re not trained for anything close to that kind of activity. Smash and grab is more our style.”

“We’re going to have to change that up,” Pym answered with a smile, “if we are going to survive in this city.”

“I’m still not going.” Lander said, digging in his heels, “no matter what you say—or do.” Others were nodding.

“I’ll go.” Synon had to be the first—someone had to follow. If she could get one more, then more, she hoped, would join them.

“Anyone else?” Pym asked. The confidence in his voice was not credible to Synon, but it was one of the reasons she would follow the man anywhere. The woman recognized the fact that she was in love with him, but not in the way most would think of this. Of course, there was the romantic sensibility and the erotic element, not that Pym had ever taken her up on any of the not-so-subtle offers, but there was more. Her love was primarily for someone who’d given the woman back her self-respect.

“Me.” Essie stepped forward. Following her, a few more of those who had been victimized under Bannly’s weak leadership came forward. Synon knew they were stepping up because without Titus, they would be back to being whores and punching bags for Lander. Soon, others would follow along because it would seem the acceptable thing to do—again.

“Alright, but if we do this,” Bannly answered in a weary, frightened voice, “then we are going to have to be certain it can be done quickly and quietly.”

“What do you mean?” Synon was not sure what he was getting at, or if he was still looking for a way out of the mess Titus was leading the Fay into.

“I mean we look for a genuine straggler.”

“What,” Pym asked, “is a genuine straggler?”

“Someone the others won’t miss.” Lander answered.

“There is no way,” Synon stepped in, “anyone can guarantee that.”

“Then,” Lander again, and hopeful, “we should not be doing this.”

“No one,” Essie sneered, “is asking you to come. We don’t need cowards like you anyway.” Lander took a step toward the woman, but Pym held out a hand and shook his head. Half the time, Synon thought he enjoyed what he’d done to Lander and what few of his crowd remained, but she was never certain.

“No one need come that is not willing to follow my command and is afraid this will fail. In all likelihood, this will end in a few of us getting injured and perhaps killed. If you are not prepared to risk your lives, you will not be required. However, those that do come will share equally in whatever we capture. Food will be shared with all; and any weapons, ammunition, and vehicles will be used as I see fit in order to strengthen the Beluga. Everything else taken will be shared equally with those that come with me. What they do with it is up to them.” Synon smiled, Pym knew how to capture the hearts and minds of those under his command and knew, better thananyone she had met, how to shame others into action. The result was that although they did not get a great number to follow, there were twice as many as the woman thought there’d be. They even got Lander. Partly out of shame, she supposed, but more likely for the opportunity of barter goods.

It was only a short trek to the Makati wall, and because of this, everyone had agreed to leave the vehicles back with the others in case they needed to make a hasty retreat on the failure of the assault. Other reasons were given as well. Titus worried the sound of their clunkers would alert not only the column but also those in Makati. If that happened, then reinforcements would be called in by the district committee. These would arrive quickly, because if there was anyone still supporting the national and local governments it was Makati. Silence, no matter what, was going to be fundamental to success.

Once they arrived at the neighborhood surrounding Makati, the group took over some homes to make certain no one alerted the district. Most of the houses were now without functioning telephones, as was much of the city, but this didn’t mean there wasn’t someone, or several people, on the payroll of the police. All it would take would be one runner and they’d be found and killed. With that in mind, several houses were taken over just in time to hear the column coming up the road. It was moving at a crawl and was dangerously strung out. Synon could see Titus smiling as he lowered his binoculars.

“Everyone ready?” he asked the woman. She nodded, but was uncertain whether or not being in place was the same as ready. As the column filed by, militia and police hanging languidly over their weapons, smoking or talking, the air felt heavy, and the fear in the small bungalow they were hiding in was bitter on Synon’s tongue.

Several blocks from Makati, Pym pulled their considerably larger column over. It was time to sort out what they’d taken. Stretching, Pym glanced down the street and smiled. This had been a lot easier than he’d expected—and not a single shot. Adjusting the holster under his left arm, he mopped his face with a bandana—the heat was getting to him again. For a while this did not seem to bother him, but every now and then the humidity and heat banded together to give him a splitting headache—he could feel one of these coming on. Every time Pym took his luck out for a run, these appeared to follow.

“What,” Bannly asked nervously, “are we stopping for?”

“We’re not being followed. Good enough place to sort out what we’ve got here.” The elder didn’t like the sound of that, but he seemed to understand, for the moment at least, they were free and clear. So nervous was Bannly, however, that he set lookouts a couple of blocks in all directions. Titus saw no point in arguing, so he let the old man have his security blanket. While he did this, Synon waited. The look on her face was hardly more inspiring, but she was willing for him to do what he needed to. That they’d gotten away with the hijacking didn’t seem to want to sink in. Lander got it, and this hadn’t improved his mood. It didn’t take much perception to see that he was waiting for Titus to make a mistake and he’d be there to take the Beluga Fay from him and probably kill the man in the process.

“Get the prisoners.” Lander smiled at that; this part he always enjoyed. Pym didn’t like the man for many different reasons, but the enjoyment he took in inflicting pain had to top the list. Killing, Titus had seen on a couple of occasions, took the man to the point of orgasm. It wasn’t the madness that bothered Pym; it was the lack of control and focus this suggested. Taking the automatic from its holster, Synon followed his lead. “How many did we get?” Titus asked Essie.

“Cars?”

He nodded.

“Four, but one ran out of gas, and we had to leave it.”

“Strip it first?”

“Everything we could, while not falling too far behind.”

Pym nodded, waiting for the prisoners.

Each of the column vehicles had two men in them. Eight prisoners were not what he’d been counting on. Pym’s intention had been to grab one car—maybe two—but now he had three and spare parts from a fourth. That was all good, but having eight prisoners was not. As these were brought up, Titus began to feel a little easier—until he got a better look at them. “What happened here?” Pym asked Bannly.

“Lander was interrogating them.”

“Didn’t I say they were not to be harmed, Lander?”

“They were noisy—had to quiet them down.”

Essie rolled her eyes behind the man, and shook her head. Pym could see this, but didn’t respond to the information. He was, for the moment, stuck with Lander. His occasional usefulness made it impossible to get rid of him, and he was always efficient.

“There’s a chance for you and your people to walk away from this.” Pym began. Several around him shuffled about anxiously. It was then he noticed someone in the back of the guards. “Who’s she?”

“Was being guarded in the vehicle we had to abandon.” Synon answered.

“Put her in your car. You take care of her and make certain no one interferes with her.”

“Little late for that.” Essie groused.

“Who...”

“Who do you think?” Essie interrupted.

“Did he...”

“Didn’t get that far.”

“Lander, you take your fun out on a prisoner like that again and I’ll have you shot.”

“She’s a Makati—they get fat while we starve.”

“Just once again and I’ll have you. Now piss off outta here.”

Seemed Lander knew enough to make himself scarce.

“Put her in your car, Synon, and keep her safe.”

Nodding, the woman took the prisoner and disappeared toward the front of the column.