Blood & Dust (43 page)

A bullet sparked from the stone at his feet. He looked up, unable to see the shooter. Began to
duck, to find cover, but an impact threw him down, rolled him across the rock, earth and sky cycling
across his vision. He pulled up, dazed and snarled in bushes. The revolver was gone. It didn't have
the range, anyway. Even if could see the sniper. Matheson of course. Lucky the light was so shit,
the range long. Reece squirmed farther into the undergrowth, clasping the bullet wound, wondering if
the hole in his side went all the way through.

Wondering if he had enough of Mira's blood in his veins to save him from this latest hit. Yet
again he cursed the grease monkey for having taken his belt and the attached med kit. He eyed the
vampires on the rock. Any one of them could heal him. He needed Taipan to lose this. Lose it bad.

Heather stood, looking surprised, the dagger clutched like an afterthought in her hand. Taipan
and Jasmine were getting to their feet, a race of two cripples to recover enough to kill each other.
Automatic gunfire rolled down the gorge, but there was no incoming. Had Mira engaged with Danica?
Had she killed Matheson? Reece checked his wound. Blood a mere dribble, the flesh torn and ugly. He
might survive it.

On the rock, a shout, and he looked in time to see Taipan snatch the blade once more from his
sister's hand and reverse it, overhand, coming in to plunge it into Turner's face or throat. But the
old girl, on her knees, plucked up the sapling stake and thrust. A wet impact. The blade fell from
Taipan's hand. Reece couldn't believe the biker had fallen for that - how desperate must he have
been?

Taipan staggered backward, a shuffling one-two-three steps, back toward the lip of the rock with
the length of timber dangling from his chest and blood dribbling from his mouth.

'End of the line, my boy.' Turner grabbed him by the collar and forced him to his knees. Taipan
clawed at the timber stuck in his chest, robotically trying to extricate it. Turner retrieved the
knife and grabbed Taipan's chin, reefing his head up straight, exposing the throat. She hefted the
knife for a backhand slash. 'Goodbye, Chris.'

Heather grabbed the stake from the ground and smacked Turner across the back of the head. Turner
lurched into Taipan. The biker grabbed her around the knees and threw himself forward, knocking her
off her feet. The knife rang on the rock. She lunged for it. Heather shouted, 'No! No!' Taipan
crouched over Turner as she scrabbled for the knife, just out of reach. He hauled the stake from his
chest. Her hand found the knife.

She twisted under him, blade flashing. Taipan stabbed down. Put his whole body behind it, driving
the stake all the way in. Turner heaved once, twice, then lay still, the knife dropped by her side.

He tumbled off her and lay there like a shipwreck survivor washed up on a beach. 'A miss is as
good as a mile, eh,' he laughed sardonically - to himself, the stunned Heather or the iced Turner,
it wasn't clear.

Reece slowly drew his dagger and considered his chances. The biker was moving slow; he was badly
hurt. Could Reece take him in a knife fight? Not his strong suit. Not with more bruises than skin
and a new hole in his hide. He was in worse shape than Taipan.

'End of the line,' Taipan said, and this time the comment was definitely directed at Turner,
making the old girl eat her words.
Smart arse.
Tiredly, like a man of straw, Taipan clambered
to his knees and reached for the knife.

Heather stood on it. 'Don't kill her.' She clasped the stake like a rifle across her chest.

'She was gonna take my head, Willa.'

'She's still my mother.'

'She was never our mum.'

'Our "mum" is either dead or lying toothless in a gutter somewhere.'

'Is that what you think of us mob? You bin hangin' 'round with this ol' colonial bitch for too
long.'

'That old colonial bitch is the only mother I've ever known. I love her, Chris.'

'And I love you, little sister. So here we are, eh.'

She kicked the knife away. Then she sat, more like deflating, her legs tucked up underneath her,
shoulders slumped, facing Taipan across Turner's prone body, the stake sticking up like a barren
flagpole. All they needed was a white flag.

Reece looked for the best way out. They seemed to have forgotten him, but sooner or later -
preferably sooner - he'd have to move. Get up to the car. He eyed the eastern sky. What were these
two playing at? They'd have to find shelter before he would.

'I'm very tired, Chris. Aren't you tired?'

'Plenny.' Taipan gave a half-laugh, an exhausted snatch of pain. 'So how you bin, anyways?'

'I've been better.' She forced a smiled. Wiped a tear. 'There's no going back.'

'Ain't no goin' forward, either, eh.' He looked at the washed-out sky turning from the thinnest
of grey to the lightest of blue.

Birds called. Jackass and crow, magpies, parrots, cockatoos. Reece mentally joined the chorus.
Run, you dumb shit. While you can.

'Do you remember this place?' Taipan asked.

'I don't think so. And yet, I seem to know it.'

'Maybe it's home, eh?'

'I don't know where home is anymore. You kind of burnt down the last one I had.'

'That wasn't ya home. But this is as good a place as any.' He dug in his jacket pocket - the
action made Reece grasp his dagger tighter - and swore and reached to his ear and then looked around
until he crawled a couple of feet to pick up a crumpled cigarette. He returned to his spot and
straightened the ciggie out and lit up. He reached across Turner's body to offer it to the girl, but
she waved it back.

Reece pulled himself up, expecting - he didn't know what. The knife hilt was slick with sweat in
his hand.

Taipan looked over his shoulder at Reece. 'You still there, Gespensten-shit?'

'Still here.'

'Pity.' He blew smoke. 'Thought 'Cacia mighta done for you, back there at the homestead.'

'I've got a hard head.'

'You myxos usually do.'

'One of the fringe benefits.'

'Worth dyin' for?'

'No. But then, what is?'

'Family.'

'I'll leave you to it.'

'That'd be good.'

'Haven't seen my gat, eh?'

'Don't push it, Hunter.'

Reece's ravaged body complained in every muscle. The bullet wound felt as if maggots were
crawling inside it, nibbling at the torn flesh.

The sun broke through the trees lining the gorge, fringing them in gold and orange.

Last thing he heard as he shuffled away was Taipan talking to his sister.

'Looks like a nice day comin', Willa. No cloud.'

'Yeah,' she agreed. 'Nice day comin'.'

Kevin's chest filled with pain as the sound of gunfire faded away, replaced by the
squawking of birds. He'd shot Hunter, had been about to put a bullet through Jasmine, too, to give
Taipan his chance. And then he'd had his legs knocked out from under him. His breath stolen. His
heart stopped.

Kala lay by his side in a spreading pool of blood. She looked surprised, a dog kicked in the guts
and winded.

He tracked Mira as she slid down the slope above in a shower of pebbles and dirt, an assault
rifle just like Hunter's held high. She was dressed for war in combat boots and black cargo pants, a
tight, black long-sleeved top under her fancy vest. Protective collar and armguards. The hooded
Driza-Bone flapped at her ankles as she stood above Kevin. She lowered her head so she could see him
over the rim of her mirrored sunnies, and said, 'Bleed for me, Grease Monkey.' She fired a short
burst into Kevin, like bricks hurled into him, his body jerking as though electrocuted.

The gun clicked empty.

She threw it away.

She wore a pistol and a long knife and a sword with a curved blade. Scimitar or a sabre,
something like that: a chopping blade. His pendant, the one Danica had made for him, glimmered on
her vest. She still wore Kala's earring. Trust Mira to not miss the chance to rub salt in the wound.

She kicked his rifle - his father's rifle - over the cliff, then drew Hunter's sword and threw it
out of easy reach up the slope she'd come down. She stalked over to Kala - panic pushed aside
Kevin's agony for a moment, but Mira merely lifted Hunter's pistol from Kala's limp grip, checked
it, then tossed it to land up near the sword.

'Did you kill him?' she asked Kevin.

He couldn't answer. It was all he could do to keep his eyes open as his heart faltered.

Mira held up her left wrist and spoke to it as though it was a radio. 'Still kicking, Reece?
That's my boy. Though you might wish you weren't when I catch up with you.' She looked at the sky,
then back at Kevin. 'Getting light, Grease Monkey. Do you think she'll put in an appearance before I
or the sun put you out of my misery?'

Movement caught his attention. Near the cave mouth at the far end of the ledge. Behind Mira.

Cassie!

She aimed a submachine gun, a short black thing with a curved slab of ammo case hanging under it.

Mira barely looked at her, just a glance along her gun arm as she drew her pistol and fired three
rounds into the girl's chest. Cassie dropped.

Shit, Mira had taken them all out, just like that. What chance had they ever had against someone
who'd been fighting wars for centuries? The weight of his wounds held him down, his body burning
with its feverish attempt to heal the massive damage.

The air rippled. A gush of heat far above. Brightness in the trees, as though aflame, and the
silver trunks on the opposite crest turned to orange in the dawn light.

'Morning,' Mira said. Greeting or statement of fact, he couldn't tell. Pistol reholstered, she
walked to where Cassie lay gasping and hauled the girl to her knees. She held her by her hair to
stop her falling. 'You red-eyes can be such pains in the arse sometimes.'

Kala moaned. Her fingers moved, as though looking for the pistol Mira had taken.

Kevin had no guns. No guns, damn it. Just Hunter's wide-bladed knife and the HeartStopper. He
fumbled the staker from its holster but knew he had no chance to use it, to save Cassie; to save
himself.

'Come out, Mother!' Mira drew her sword. 'Or are you going to sacrifice these fools as well? What
will it take to make you give a damn?'

'Enough, Mira.' Danica stepped out from the nearby cave. She pushed the hood of her cape down.
She wore jeans and a lace-up shirt hanging loose. No weapons. 'Why are you doing this?'

'You really don't know?'

'It's been so long.' Danica approached Mira, her hands out as though trying to soothe a snarling
dog.

Mira faltered, the sword tip dropping. Cassie swayed in Mira's weakened grip, then cried out as
Mira pulled her straight, the sword lifting once more.

'Out of my head,
Mother
. You've given up your trespass rights.'

Kevin pulled himself into a sitting position. Caught Danica's eye. She shook her head at him, and
Mira, following the action, turned to him and said, 'Sit, there's a good puppy.'

'You still haven't told me why you're doing this,' Danica said.

'
Vater
sent me to clean up the trash out here. It was as good a reason as any to track you
down.'

'And now that you've done so?'

'I get a clean start. Your power. My inheritance.'

'You assume you can take my power without taking me.'

'Ghosts can't hurt me-'

'Then why are you falling apart in front of my eyes? There are too many doors for you to keep
shut. You're in bedlam, and the more you take, the worse it gets.'

Cassie clawed weakly at Mira's grip. 'Where's 'Cacia? What have you done with my Acacia?'

Mira shook her, like a cat with a dead rat. 'Who?' She looked at Kevin, her eyes going distant,
and then she blinked herself back. 'Ah, the
cockatoo
. The pilot. The lover. Unusual, that
level of loyalty. Of love. Among our kind.'

'For you, perhaps,' Danica said.

'I'm not the one who abandoned her child.'

'You were always your father's daughter. Never mine.'

'So you gave up and left me with him.'

'It seemed the only choice, if I didn't want to kill anyone.'

'Weak,' Mira said. 'Even weaker than I imagined.'

'What happened to Acacia?' Cassie asked again, her voice dissolving into sobs

My country is wherever her feet are touchin'.

Kevin closed his eyes, drawing on the memory, on the love in her voice, in her
eyes, tapping the well of his own loss, of his own rage. He was on his knees, his body responding,
finally, but clumsy and heavy. He twisted the hilt of the staker to arm it; kept its long, shining
length hidden behind his body.

'Your cockatoo couldn't fly so well,' Mira said, and Cassie sagged, a deadweight that pulled Mira
off-balance, that made her jerk the girl's head again, allowing Danica to take two steps closer.

'What I want to know is,' Mira said, pointing her blade threateningly at Danica, 'is how you
could do it. How you could choose these
untermensch
over us - your own family.'

'I found a place to belong. Have you?'

'What, here? Look at you, grovelling in the dirt, feeding off animals too stupid to fuel your
dreams. You left your family for
this
?'

'Some family we have by blood, Mira. Others, by choice. Blood is not always the thicker.'

'And no regrets about the daughter you left behind?'

'I regret the creature that she became, but what was my choice? To destroy her? I could never do
that. Maybe that was my mistake.'

'Creature? Creature!'

'How else would you describe yourself?'

'I am
Strigoi
. I am what you made me.'

She swung the sword. It sliced into Cassie's neck.

Danica screamed, 'No!'

Kevin forced himself to his feet. Mira swung again and the blade went all the way. The body fell,
fountaining blood, and she dropped the head, shaking her hand to loosen the hair entwined in her
fingers. The head hit the rock with an empty thud and rolled a few paces till it nestled against the
torso.