Code Noir (23 page)

My throat constricted at the thought.

They pulled up hard against the wall. ‘Mei, hop on my shoulders,’ said Daac. She shimmied up him like it was something she practised regularly.

‘Now what?’ she called.

Balancing on his mudguards he passed her the dagger. ‘Start carving. Careful. It’s sharper than anything you’ve ever used.’

He stood rock steady as she hacked.

‘It closes over as soon as I cut it.’

I grunted with impatience.

Daac looked at Anna and sighed. The glucose had totally worn off now and she was trembling, weeping quietly into her fingers.

‘Parrish?’

‘Can you hold me?’ I asked doubtfully.

He looked as tired as I felt and was holding his injured side. None of us had had any food. ‘I can try.’

Reluctantly, Mei climbed down. Daac decided her faring was more stable than his mudguards and they jiggled around each other. Then he braced against the wall, hands gripping the layer of
crawl
, while I tried to emulate Mei.

Two missed attempts before I managed to climb on to his shoulders. He staggered under my weight, and I held my breath while we steadied.

A face full of toxic dirt wouldn’t do much for my looks - nor my life expectancy. I knew he wouldn’t be able to hold me for long. That thought, coupled with his ears brushing my inner thighs, sent me hacking like a demon. I found that turning the blade flat and dragging it downwards made incisions that lasted longer, as if the
crawl
shrank from the touch of it.

When I had a hole big enough to fit my shoulders, I leant through and felt around. My hands touched something solid. A rough ledge.

‘Found it. Give me a push.’

I locked on to the ledge and launched through the hole, falling straight on to the floor on the other side of the window.

I bounded up and checked for Twitchers.

No sign. Only a few broken chairs and food foils outlined in the dim, ambient light.

And then . . .
OK, OK, it crossed my mind.

A fleeting impulse to leave them behind.

Who am I kidding? Mei would probably find a way to haunt me for the rest of my life. And Daac . . .

Well, never let it be said that Parrish Plessis was an opportunist.

I grabbed the frame of a broken chair and plunged it, and my head and shoulders, back into the closing gap.

I couldn’t see them but I shouted, ‘Use this to stand on. I’ll pull you the rest of the way. Wait while—’

My mouth filled with
crawl
, so I choked and pulled back. Soon as I’d spat it out, I began the hacking procedure again, forcing the stuff aside with the sweep of the Cabal blade. Minutes later I came within a micrometre of chopping off Mei’s nose.

Pity.

Her face appeared. She dribbled goo down her chin and held out her hand. ‘Loyl said to hurry up.’

I yanked her so hard she popped through like a cork.

I repeated the pattern and managed to fish Schaum through. She collapsed into Mei’s arms more bedraggled than before.

While Mei scraped goo off her, I started widening the hole once more. But it had grown thicker and the pressure of it closing forced me back out. I tried again, slashing fiercely and the dagger slipped from my hand.

No!
I plunged my hands in after it and found the blade-tip with my fingers. The handle was out of reach. Taking a deep breath I grasped it. The dagger cut straight to the bone and I felt light-headed with pain.

Inside me, the Eskaalim howled at the thought of blood. The world started to dim. Realising I might pass out and lose Daac, I took a risk. I accepted the blood lust sensation a little instead of fighting it. It filled me, lent me energy and dulled the pain. In seconds the Eskaalim presence coursed through my veins.

I pulled the dagger clear and used it to scrape a hole. Then I burrowed through it like a fiend, arms burning with the pain of exertion. Somewhere in the suffocating entrails of the tissue I encountered Daac’s hand. I hauled him in like I was starving and he was the last fish left in the last ocean, dimly aware that Mei had me around the waist and was pulling too.

All I could think was blood. Warm, metallic and necessary.

The three of us ended stacked stickily on each other like canned sardines.

I slipped out from between them, seized by the blood desire, and raised the dagger. Daac’s throat looked so pale coated in shining
crawl
. One stab and I could wash myself in it.

The parasite agreed.

I heard Schaum’s scream.

That was all.

Daac’s punch only knocked me out for a few seconds. But it left me with a muzzy Eskaalim hangover and a really nasty snipe on. It was the second time the guy had punched me in a matter of hours.

My nose and my crutch felt like someone had set fire to them. I touched my nose. Swelling already, but surprisingly straighter than normal. If Daac had improved my appearance by punching me, I’d kill him. Surreptitiously as I could, with them peering at me, I felt my crutch. Bruise on bruise. The exact same spot Daac had kicked me.

‘I did that,’ Mei pronounced. ‘One good kick there slows most people down. Even the grrls.’

Daac held up the dagger. ‘You were going to kill me, Parrish,’ he said by way of explanation for the nose.

He’s right. For one reason or another I
am
going to kill him!

He ripped material from his teeshirt and held it out to Mei and me, careful not to make contact. Then he began meticulously wiping himself with the rest. ‘Wrap your fingers before you bleed to death.’

I stared at my hand and remembered everything in a rush. Flesh gaped from the bone. My arm was covered in blood. And my clothes. Come to think of it, so were Mei and Loyl. We looked like bad torture on a good day.

I glanced around at the empty room. ‘Where are the
karadji
?’

‘I told the Clever Men to go. The Cabal will find them.’

‘YOU WHAT?’ My desire to murder him spiked to new heights. ‘They’ll never survive this place. Tulu and Ike aren’t playing by our rules, Loyl.’

He sent me an odd look. ‘What rules would they be, Parrish?’

‘There are some things you just don’t do. Ike might be messing with bodies but Tulu’s messing with bodies
and
souls.’

Mei shuddered. ‘That crazy shaman thinks she can suck our spirit into herself and then Marinette will ride her permanently. Marinette’s got other ideas. She wants Parrish. And she’s one bitchy loa. Something about getting even with Oya.’

I gave Daac a steady stare. ‘I appeal to all the best types.’

No smart reply to that. Instead Daac got glassy-eyed. The way I hated. He was already thinking forward, planning. He bent down and helped Schaum to her feet, checking the flat drive was unharmed.

‘I’ll get you and Mei to a safe place. Then I’ll find Ike,’ he told her.

She lent against him, her matted hair leaving
crawl
-wet trails on what remained of his tee. ‘I don’t think I can walk any further.’

‘Parrish and I’ll carry you,’ he said, confident of my alliance, the way he expected everyone to be.

‘What about the other shaman?’ I said. Would he really leave them?

‘This is more important.’ He tapped the flat drive.

Yes. Of course.
Suddenly I was sick to death of him. Everything always came back to what he wanted. What he could gain. Nothing else mattered.

Well I’d made promises and they didn’t include nursing his girlfriend, Schaum. With relief I finally knew what I would do. Just as well, because thinking time suddenly got to be a luxury.

Twitchers shouting outside. Noise in every damn place.

We were out into the corridor in seconds, automatically heading in different directions.

Daac turned back and grabbed my shoulder. ‘Where are you going?’ he demanded.

‘Keeping my promises.’

Genuine surprise took the sting from his anger. ‘But I’m your only hope of beating the parasite.’

‘Yes, you probably are.’

We locked eyes for one long moment of understanding.

Our differences.

Then I remembered something I’d been meaning to ask. ‘You said Ike went by another name. What was it?’

‘Dr Del Morte.’ He shifted Schaum’s weight to his uninjured side and headed for the stairs.

Del Morte? Shite!
‘And Loyl . . . gimme the dagger.’

He dropped the Gurkha on the top step as he disappeared.

‘Not that one, you pri—!’

 

 

 

 

I found a dark place to hide and reviewed my compass memory. Glida’s attic was north of where we had come out. The
karadji
said the battle had begun but there was still a flanking guard of Twitchers left.

The last Tert war had been brutal and quiet. And for the most, I knew what it was about. This time I was guessing and I didn’t want any part of it. The Cabal versus Tulu’s rider Marinette, Ike and the crusty-skin brigade. Tek and voodoo versus some home-grown spirit shit.

The very idea sent chills prickling my overtired body. I knew I was closing on a physical collapse, but I’d promised Glida I’d take her and the ma’soops with me. Now that included whichever shamans were waiting for me. I was going to do both those things.

When I got tired, I got pigheaded.

It could be a problem but it also got things done. Even if they were the wrong things.

I moved as quickly as I could, but my hand throbbed and my feet seemed to trip me up. Several times I just lay down in the dark, face buried in my pack, as human traffic crept by me. I was in no state to defend myself but whatever was going on down on the pavements had sent the rest of Mo-Vay scuttling to the roofs. Each time I stopped to rest I fought the temptation to stay there and sleep.

Or just die.

The last time was the worst. A warlike chant had started in the distance. It made the air too thick to move in. I didn’t even know if it was real but it sucked me away from consciousness.

I kicked up into real time like I was saving myself from drowning in a dream and forced myself on. My resolve was somehow keeping the Eskaalim at bay. Whatever had happened in that alleyway in Mo-Vay had left me sure of one thing at least. While I
could
fight, it
would
be a fight. If I gave in, the possession would be quick and painful.

In the end, I crawled, resting every few minutes, drawn towards the power of the distant chanting.

I didn’t make it to Glida’s attic. I’m not sure I was even going in the right direction.

She and Roo made it to me, forcing a bitter fluid into my mouth until I revived. When my eyes finally focused I saw Loser licking his paws in satisfaction.

‘He found you, Parrish. Kept hissing and spitting until we followed him,’ said Roo.

‘The shamans?’ I croaked. ‘How many got through?’

Roo and Glida looked at each other. Roo held up seven fingers.

That meant ten or more were missing. Mei, of course, was with Daac.

 

They helped me back to the ma’soops’ attic. It was crowded with bodies but I felt the shamans’ relief at the sight of my sorry corpus.

‘Let me sleep. One hour, no more,’ I told Roo. ‘Have a shaman keep watch with you on the cut-thrus. If anyone tries to get in here, shoot ’em.’

‘Sure, boss.’

That was good enough for me. I stretched out on a row of beams and mercifully blacked out.

Ness and a couple of the shamans performed some spirit mumbo on me while I was out to it. ‘Renewal’, the feathered-haired kid called it later. They also let me sleep for two hours.

I felt so good the first few moments after I woke up that it quelled my irritation at how long it had been. Even my optimism had revived a little as well. Maybe we’d all get home after all. Sleep was a wonderful thing.

Loser spotted me awake and limped over to flop on my stomach. I got his message - don’t leave without me!

The shaman sat in a rough semicircle around me, with the ma’soops curled up in the spaces between them. Roo and Glida, holding hands, launched into an account of my lost hour.

‘Thought you needed the rest, Parrish. Not sure what’s happening out there. Those kids—’

‘The Twitchers? Don’t mistake them for kids,’ I corrected. ‘They’re animals.’ I looked at the ma’soops. ‘They’ll eat you.’

‘Well they’re running wild, heading out toward the canal. The other punters are either hiding or running like somethin’ terrible’s about to happen.’

‘It is,’ I said flatly. ‘The Cabal have come to take back the land before Ike makes a move into theirs. They don’t like what’s happening here.’

I stared through the gloom of the attic at the pensive shamans - seven frightened, exhausted disciples of spiritualism, each with their own brand of belief. It was a miracle really that they were all sitting together in such harmony. I guess having your brain juice sucked out together was a bonding experience.

‘Who’s missing?’ I ran my eyes round the group and stopped abruptly when I recognised one of the
karadji
by his tattered three-piece suit and curly hair. ‘Where are the others? Where’s the blind one?’ I demanded.

His hands cradled his large belly as if it ached. ‘Loylme-Daac tells us to go. You say stay. Geroo says we should listen to you. We argue. The young-beasts come for us. I run and get free. I am the strongest. Afterwards, I am lost. This one found me.’

His tone brimmed with accusation that I’d made the wrong call.