Mutant City (29 page)

Melk lowered his weapon a fraction, staring disbelievingly at the man across from him.

Silas gave him a brief, sad smile. ‘Do you remember how I asked you just now if you had any idea what it was like to live out there beyond the wall?’ He tipped his head back, regarding the other man. ‘Well, you and the people of C4 are about to find out.’

The next three explosions were all above ground. They went off within seconds of each other. The last one was by far the biggest, and both men flinched at the monstrous noise and power unleashed.

The lights in every building in City Four went out all at the same time.

‘Ah, those must have been the electrical substations,’ Silas commented as the meagre emergency backup lighting winked on overhead.

There was a violent banging on the door to the office, the guards pounding and shouting the name of the president.

Melk watched as his brother, silhouetted against the glass wall, lifted a finger, as if waiting for something. There was a pause and then one last, smaller explosion could be heard. Silas lowered the raised digit.

‘I wanted to bring down the Bio-Gen building, but I didn’t have enough explosives. That last one was the communication centre. I had to be very careful with that one because I knew people might still be working there, even at this time of night, and I didn’t want to risk the loss of lives. Every one of those explosions was carefully placed so as to destroy infrastructure but not people. Two of your “creations” – Anya and Flea – put them in place, but if anybody was unfortunate enough to be hurt, the blame is all mine, not theirs.’

‘What have you done?’

‘I tried to warn you. I told you what you were doing was wrong.’ Silas turned and pushed a small device, no bigger than his thumb, on to the glass. ‘I’d stand well back and cover your eyes if I were you,’ he said over his shoulder as he hurried to one side and crouched down behind a column, turning to look back at his brother one last time. ‘Now.’

Melk staggered back and managed to get his arm up in front of his face as the glass wall exploded outwards, raining deadly daggers down the side of the building on to the ground below. The cold night air blew in through the ragged hole, quickly lowering the temperature of the dark interior. The banging on the door was louder than ever, as if something very heavy was being used to break it in. In addition to this, a new voice had joined the other men – this one calling out to his father. The noise hardly registered with Melk. He was transfixed by the sight of his brother hurrying over to the destroyed window. Silas stood on the edge, squinting against the wind, which blew and buffeted him. He looked up for a moment, nodded once and jumped, his arms held straight out, perpendicular to his sides.

Melk cried out in shock as two massive tentacles snatched Silas in mid-air and grasped him by the armpits.

The huge foul-looking creature hissed for a moment as it dropped alarmingly with the extra weight, but it quickly recovered, beating its leathery wings frantically and carrying the man off into the darkness.

The door finally gave way under the assault of the hydraulic ram. Zander and two guards half stumbled into the room, staring wildly about them. When the president turned to look at them he had a bewildered expression on his face. The uncharacteristic look quickly passed. Melk lifted the gun and shot the two soldiers dead.

When he turned the gun on his son, the look on the younger man’s face was priceless.

‘Father –’

‘I’m not your father. You’re just another version of me – a weak, feeble, disappointing translation, but a version of me nonetheless.’

‘What?’

‘You’re a clone, a copy, a . . . facsimile. Nothing more. I had high hopes for you, but I have to say, you’ve been a disappointment. You’ve served your purpose, Junior, and now it’s time to let the real Melk take over again.’ He pulled the trigger.

Rush

‘Stop,’ said Jax, halting in front of the door that led back into the foyer of the custody suite. His hand hovered over the round button as he turned and looked back at the others, the expression on his face unreadable.

‘What are we waiting for?’ Rush asked.

The building shook as the first bomb went off. There was a moment of silence and then the scrape of chair legs against the floor as the ARM officers hurried over to the windows, all talking and shouting at once.

‘That,’ Jax said, and pressed the door release.

Rush gently grabbed Tia by the elbow as she went to call the elevator. He shook his head. ‘We’re taking the stairs, remember? If we’re in that thing, we’ll get stuck when the power goes out.’

They might have escaped undetected had one of the men in the office not turned around and spotted them at the very moment they passed through the doorway leading to the fire escape. They didn’t wait to hear the shouted warnings for them to stop.

There was another low booming noise.

‘Hurry,’ Tia urged. A loud, blaring klaxon sounded, the pitch and volume of it painful enough to make the four of them hunch their shoulders and wince.

They took the stairs as quickly as they could, helping and encouraging each other on the way down. At least one of them was always by Brick’s side, supporting the giant as best they could. When, somewhere overhead, loud voices ordered them to halt or be fired at, they ignored the warnings, but the threat was enough to spur them onward with even greater urgency. They reached the bottom of the stairwell and the exit to the underground parking facility just as the main lights went out and insipid emergency auxiliary lighting took their place. Annoyingly, the klaxon was still blaring out from big speakers all around.

Three men were waiting for them, standing at the far end of the car park with small masks over their mouths and noses. There were no shouted warnings, no orders to put up their hands. The man in the centre simply stepped forward, aimed a strange-looking gun at the mutants and fired.

‘Rush!’ Jax shouted out.

The small canister with greenish-grey smoke spewing from it was almost on top of them when Rush lifted his hand. The gas grenade stopped, hanging in the air, shaking as if still trying to push its way past the invisible force that had halted it. Then it suddenly went into reverse, hurtling back with even greater speed towards the men who’d fired it, hitting the ground at their feet and discharging its contents into the air around them. Rush flicked the fingers of his hand downwards, swiping at the air like a cat pawing an invisible fly, and the men’s masks flew from their faces. They began to choke and cough, grasping at their throats, tears pouring from their eyes. All three of them collapsed to the ground.

Jax shouted out again as the door behind him flew open. Rush spun around and caught a glimpse of men on the other side before he slammed it shut again with his mind. It was clear to the others that Rush was having to expend enormous effort to keep the door barred as the men battered against it from the other side, and he physically flinched and winced as they bodily threw themselves against it.

‘Hurry up,’ he said through gritted teeth.

Tia was already approaching the vehicle they’d arrived in, when Jax stopped her. ‘Not that one,’ he said. She turned to look at the albino and inwardly shuddered at the wicked grin on his face. He indicated another vehicle: an armoured personnel carrier with a large gun turret on top. ‘
That
one.’

As soon as everyone was safely inside the vehicle, Rush finally relaxed his control on the door. The look on the men’s faces as they poured through and saw the smiling albino pointing the powerful cannon in their direction was incomparable. With a cry of dismay they turned on their heels and scrambled back in the direction they’d come, just as Jax fired round after round of explosive bullets into the concrete walls. He had no intention of hitting the men, but the sound of the gunfire in the enclosed, underground space was deafening. Large hunks of masonry shattered, filling the air with a thick, impenetrable dust, and when he had finished his barrage there was an eerie silence, broken only by the odd lump of concrete tearing loose and crashing down.

Tia drove them out of the car park and up the tunnel.

This time there was no halting in front of the metal shutters. Jax shot the housings at the top to bits and Tia burst through unchecked.

The escapees sat in silence. There was no whooping or shouts of triumph when they finally emerged into the night air. Even before they had set out to rescue Brick, they all knew what the consequences of their actions might mean for the population of Muteville. They’d discussed it, talking long into the night about what the Principia’s response was likely to be, and how they could best avoid unnecessary bloodshed and suffering.

‘Are you all right, Brick?’ Rush asked his friend as the two bounced around together in the back.

The big guy simply nodded and returned his attention to the world beyond the bulletproof glass, as if he too was aware of the potential price of his freedom.

Tia steered the vehicle towards the agreed rendezvous.

Melk

An emergency assembly of the Principia was called, Melk despatching security agents to personally escort the ruling elite to the great hall where the meeting was to be held. In addition, a series of announcements was made by men standing in the streets to tell the Citizens what was going on. With no power, the meeting would not be broadcast on the large screens outside the parliament building as it usually was. Instead, the vast doors at the front of the building were left wide open so that anybody who wanted to could see and hear what was happening. They came in their droves. The residents of City Four – most of whom had taken to the streets in fear and terror as the sequence of explosions stripped them of light, heat and communications – were drawn to the building they recognised as their centre of power. The first to arrive were treated to a view of their president atop a hastily constructed dais. Lit by glaring arc lights powered by generators, Melk was a stark and shocking testament to the events of terror that had taken place that night.

Wrapped in bloody bandages where he’d had pieces of broken glass removed from his arm, neck and face, the man stood looking out at the principals as they hurriedly took their places. The forum was designed so the members sat in a horseshoe, an arrangement designed to maximise debate. By placing himself in the centre-front of this array, Melk guaranteed that he was the focus of their attention.

The hall was already packed beyond its capacity, and when the last principal was seated Melk tapped the microphone in front of him, pleased when he found the thing to be working. He began to speak.

‘When our ancestors emerged from the Arks and finally made their way back to the surface of Scorched Earth, they were shocked that anything up here had survived. The creatures they encountered were hideous and terrible. Stricken with disease and disfigurement, they were an aberration of the natural order of things. It has been argued that wiping them out might have been the kindest thing; to eradicate them from this planet, so their miserable mutated genetic material would not be perpetuated. But the mass extinctions of the Last War were still too raw in our ancestors’ minds, and the Mutes were allowed to survive. Not only did they endure, but they thrived. And
we –
’ he looked about him, not just at the dignitaries but also at the multitude of people crammed into the auditorium, many of whom were relaying his words to those in the streets beyond – ‘
we
ignored the threat living on our doorstep.
We
are to blame for what has happened here tonight.’

He let the noise of the discontented voices wash over him for a few moments before lifting his hand for quiet.

‘Out there –’ he pointed, holding out his arm so the bloodstained dressings could be fully appreciated – ‘is a race of people who have done nothing to build this world back up again. And yet, despite that, they believe they are somehow entitled to the privileges we have worked so hard for. They resent us. THEY HATE US! And tonight they have committed an act of war against the Citizens of City Four and all the cities of Scorched Earth, to prove just how much they hate us!’

There were loud cries and shouts.

‘Our weakness in the face of this enemy has finally been exploited. Our unwillingness to deal with this scourge has come back to bite us!’

He allowed the shouts and cries to rise and then slowly die away. Eventually he leaned in to the microphone, and when he spoke again it was in a low, bleak tone.

‘I have terrible news for you all,’ he said, lowering his head and shaking it. To everyone in the auditorium he appeared like a man only just in control of himself, struggling for composure. When he looked up again, there were tears on his cheeks. ‘My son – a man I hoped might take my place as your proud leader – was . . . assassinated tonight!’

There was a tumult of gasps and cries as people turned to look at each other in shock. The news must have quickly spread because more expressions of dismay could be heard from outside in the streets.

Melk carried on, his voice slowly rising in pitch and volume. ‘He was killed trying to save me from the mutants who broke into the city with the express wish of ending not just my life but the lives of so many others with their bombs and wanton destruction. He was killed defending the people of City Four, defending them in the way the Melks have done for generations. He was killed defending the rights of the people he loved. And before he died in my arms, he demanded something of me. He demanded that I continue in the role I’ve had the honour of holding for so long now. He demanded that I avenge his death. He demanded that this act of terrorism not go unpunished. HE DEMANDED JUSTICE!’