Rebel Heart (34 page)

It’s comin up to dusk, nearly curfew. My belly starts to tighten with nerves. We passed through the first two guardposts no problem. Bram shouted the right password fer the colour of flag tied to the barred road gate, an the Tonton guards lifted it an waved us on. We left the farms behind some time ago. Ahead of us, the road disappears. Swallowed up by a vast plain of giant boulders, great glints an rock slabs the height of ten men.

The Field of the Fallen Mountain, says Bram. We should see Resurrection any— there it is.

It comes into view.

Holy crap, says Creed.

I ain’t never seen such a gigantic Wrecker buildin before. A massive, sheer wall of concrete rises up from the boulder-strewn plain below. It stands half a mile long an looks to be jest as high.

Remind me, says Maev, how high did you say it is?

I make it seven hunnerd foot, says Bram.

There’s the four floors with windows he told us about. They run along the top of the vast wall. Otherwise, it’s faceless. Solid.

There’s the gatehouse, says Bram.

It’s perched at the end nearest to us. It looks like a dot. It’s jest like he told us, when he was takin us through the plan. He drew it, we seen it, I imagined it, but now, seein it fer real, the size of it—

Unbelievable, I says.

Now I know what a flea feels like, says Molly.

She looks grim. As do we all. But not Ash. A half-smile crooks her mouth.

Fleas plague you, she says. Swamp skitters can kill you, an a little thorn – so small you hardly notice – it can work its way unner the skin an after a bit, yer hand’s infected. Maybe you lose a couple fingers, maybe the whole hand. Maybe yer blood goes bad an you die. Tiny things can cause plenty of trouble. Cheer up, people!

Okay, says Bram, we’re comin to the last guardpost. This time of day, their mind’s on other things. All they wanna do is lock the gate an git their supper on to cook.

Ahead of us, on the left, a stone-walled hut with a door onto the road. As we approach, we can see the barred road gate. It’s up. No coloured flag. The rumble of our wheels brings a Tonton from the hut. He’s holdin a chunk of flatbread in his fist, chewin. When he sees who it is – four Tonton with a cartload of prisoner women – he waves to come on through an goes back inside.

What’d I tell you? says Bram. He clicks at the horse an we pick up the pace.

We ain’t more’n thirty foot away. Another Tonton rounds the back corner of the hut, twitchin his robes into place. Call of nature. When he sees us, he shouts somethin an breaks into a run. Th’other guard comes dashin outta the hut to pull down the gate. Bram curses.

What is it? says Ash.

There shouldn’t be a commander here, he says, He’s too high up. Okay, they’re stoppin us. No problem, we done this before. No eye contact an I do the talkin. He slows Ted to a walk. The Tonton in charge – the commander – steps into the road.

Long life to the Pathfinder! Bram calls, clenched fist to his heart.

We all make the sign too. The commander replies the same. Bram pulls Ted to a stop. Evenin, sir, he says.

The guard who closed the gates comes runnin up. Check the women, the commander tells him.

We go tense. Me, Maev, Ash an Molly.

We’re from Sector Ten, sir, says Bram. We caught ’em doin sabotage. Takin ’em to headquarters fer interrogation. Nuthin unusual.

The commander ignores him. Check their faces, he tells the guard.

A chill shivers my skin.
You won’t get far.

What’s goin on, sir? says Bram. Some kinda trouble?

The commander says, How’s the roads in yer sector, brother?

Nero lands on the closed gate. We keep our eyes down as the guard starts movin around the cart, lookin at each of us in turn. Ash first. He leans in to look at her. He trades nods with Creed an Tommo. He moves on to me. I stare straight ahead.

Creed coughs an shifts in the saddle. You bin out here long? he says to the guard. His gun hand rests, casual, on his weapons belt, fingers touchin his bolt shooter.

He’s pricked a grievance.

Too damn long by far, the guard mutters. A sour look towards at the commander, listenin to Bram rattle on about the state of the roads. His eyes scan me quickly an he moves on, happy to have Creed to complain to.

I bin here two days, says the guard. Me an my partner was set to be relieved at sundown an then he shows up, my partner gits to go back to barracks an I gotta stay.

He barely even looks at Maev.

How long? says Creed.

Only a brief glance at Molly. Another two days, says the guard. With this jackboots.

That ain’t fair, brother, says Creed.

Well, you tell ’em that at Resurrection, he says. An like it ain’t bad enough bein stuck here four days, you should—

You! calls the commander. I didn’t see you check that one! He goes on talkin to Bram.

The guard throws him a filthy look. What one? he says. Sir?

Mind yer tone, he says. The one with the short hair.

He means me.

The guard comes to stand at the foot of the cart, right beside me. I stare across at Maev. Hold her eyes. Sweat starts to trickle down the back of my neck.

Turn yer head, says the guard. Lemme see you. Slowly, I turn towards him. I hold my breath. Keep my eyes dropped. Clammy hands. He stares at me. Then he leans a little closer, licks his thumb an drags it over my cheekbone. His eyes widen as he sees my tattoo.

Sir! he yells.

Then he’s dead. Double dead. Two bolts through his head. Creed an Tommo.

Another shot. Two shots, three, four.

Saba! screams Lugh. Saba!

We all hit the deck at the first shot. Me, Maev, Ash an Molly. Now we scrabble free of our ropes an tumble outta the cart as Tracker comes runnin. Creed an Tommo jump offa the horses. Both Tonton lie dead on the ground. Bram hangs halfways outta the driver’s seat, face down. He’s bin shot in the back.

Lugh’s standin in the footwell. Bolt shooter clutched tight in his hand. Face white. Eyes wide.

A rush to pull Bram free, lay him on the ground. Me an Maev run to Lugh.

Lugh! I cry. I clamber in beside him. Lugh, what happened? Are y’okay?

I killed him, he chokes out. The Tonton went to shoot Bram, so I shot at the Tonton an . . . Bram moved. He got in the way an I killed him instead. I killed Bram.

I take the shooter, put my arms around him an sit him down. His whole body’s shakin.

Two shots. Creed looks up from Bram’s body. One to the head, one in the back.

Eether would of killed him, says Tommo.

You don’t know, I says to Lugh.

I think they was lookin fer Saba, says Ash. They know she’s here. They must of got Emmi to talk.

I says naught. I hope she’s wrong. I cain’t think about the Tonton frightenin Emmi, maybe hurtin her to git her to spill all she knows. I hope it was DeMalo put out the order to look fer me.

There’s silence. No hue an cry. Nobody to hear the shots an the screams. Jest the empty road behind us. The closed gate ahead. An, on the other side, the Field of the Fallen Mountain with the road leadin up to Resurrection.

What about Cassie? says Tommo.

Cassie sure don’t like you. She asked me not to go. Says we oughta leave you to sort out yer own mess.

I dunno, says Molly. Fer now, she’ll have to leave the farm, I guess. We cain’t let nobody find Bram here.

Bram. If it hadn’t of bin fer his cool head last night – only last night – things could of gone real bad. Fer Emmi, fer me, fer all of us. Thanks to me an my blind faith in Jack, we blundered into Bram’s set up an nearly wrecked it. An now he’s dead. He should of listened to Cassie. All of this ruin becuz of me.

What a gawdamn mess, says Ash.

What’re we gonna do? says Tommo.

We go on, says Maev. We do the job.

We look at her. She ain’t said a word till now. But the old Maev’s back. She stands tall. Head held high, green eyes dark with determination.

Ash stands up, a smile creepin over her face. The Free Hawks is back in business, she says.

We’ll operate right unner their noses, says Maev. An I got a mind to let the boys join this time around. Creed?

I’m in, he says.

Me too, says Molly, if that’s okay.

Whaddya have in mind, Maev? I says.

We’ll go through the gate an escape by the lake, she says, jest like Bram planned. But that’s as far as it went, remember. He’d never bin inside, so we ain’t really no worse off. We’ll jest be one person down. Lugh? You okay to go on?

He’s pale an shaky still, looks a bit sick, but he nods. Yeah, he says. We gotta git Emmi back. I’ll drive.

I hug him. Good man, I whisper.

Hang on, hang on, says Creed. There’s a password. A different one fer each gate, dependin on the flag colour. Bram’s th’only one who knew ’em. They won’t let us into Resurrection without it.

We all look at each other.

I know what I gotta do.

I know the password, I says.

What’re you talkin about? says Lugh.

The Angel of Death has a price on her head, I says. We’re gonna hand her in. I’m the password.

Three dead. The two Tonton, an Bram. We leave their bodies concealed by rocks. Hid from view. Safe from dead eaters. Once Emmi’s safe an we’re on our way, the rest of ’em’ll come back fer Bram. Take him home to Cassie an send him back to the sky with warrior ceremony.

The blood on the road gits shuffled to the dirt. The stone hut’s closed. The gate left open. Fer all the world, it looks like post deserted. Maybe fed up guards who took a hike. Nuthin as it seems.

We empty the Cosmic’s secret innards. It don’t take long. She’s only packed with enough to do the job. Lugh an Creed an Tommo stock their weapons belts, slingin as much hardware on ’em as won’t attract undue notice. I make sure Tommo’s got my bow an quiver on his back. Molly an Ash pack what they need onto Prue an Hermes. Thinkin she’s on the sly, Ash slips two of Slim’s bad-tempered pinballs in her saddlebag.

Hey! Ash! You warn’t supposed to bring them, says Maev. We agreed, no explosives.

I ain’t gonna use ’em, Maev, says Ash. I jest like the feel of ’em.

In case we meet anybody comin down from Resurrection, Creed an Tommo’s gonna ride the horses till we part company with Molly an Ash. Till that time, they ride with me an Maev in the back of the cart. I’m trussed up with rope, way too much fer the purpose. Hopefully, it won’t draw notice. Nor the fact that Tommo’s got a rope coil hung on his belt.

Lugh jumps on the driver’s bench. The wheels start to move. Through the Field of the Fallen Mountain we go. Bram’s good horse, Ted, slips along the road, around the boulders. Nero flits from one to the next. Tracker paces behind.

If DeMalo’s there . . . if he’s there . . . please, please, don’t let him be there. Why would he be? He was at his retreat camp this mornin. Mind you, so was I.

It ain’t no part of our plan to hand me over. I’m jest to smooth us through the gate. Once we’re inside, in the belly of the beast as Slim calls it, we make haste to find Emmi an git out quick. We dunno what to especk once we’re inside. We’ll hafta depend on sharp wits, fast thinkin an swift moves. But. But. If all goes wrong an fer some reason I end up facin DeMalo once more, I know somethin about him.

I seen his weakness. The flush on his cheekbones. The whispers. The cries in the closeness of the tent. Not jest mine. His.

Of your own free will, you’ll come to me again.
I’m in his blood. I’m a fever in his blood. It ain’t jest him that’s got power now.

An it ain’t jest DeMalo that preys on my mind.

The heartstone hangs around my neck. It’ll lead me to Jack. If he’s there, I’ll find him. An I’ll kill him.

Betrayer. Deceiver.

Of Maev an the Hawks an the Raiders. Of the forty dead at Darktrees. Of how many more that I don’t know about. Of Emmi. Of me.

The silent enemy – the tiny brown bottle – tucked aginst my breast.

A sharp knife deep in my boot sheath.

The anger starts to burn, deep in my gut.