SLAM (12 page)

He scratches his chin, leaning his other hand
against the wall he’s facing. “Uh, the east – not much town out
there. S’desert almost immediately.”

Serena squishes together the edges of the body
armour where the pads meet down Abial’s ribcage and flank. “Right,
that’s where we’ll be exiting, then. Which means we need a
decent-sized explosion on the West, dig?” She pats Abial’s shoulder
to let her know she’s done.

Abial flexes and bends, then nods at Serena
and starts getting her civilian kit back on.

“Yep, I gotcha. That means yer gonna have ta
get across town from the northwest, where yer target’s been
dodgin’.”

“I know. Leave that to us. You got a
timepiece?” She brings up the clock on the new wrist unit and
grimaces; more time has passed than she thought, and they’re going
to be cutting it close to get out of sight before they lose the
cover of darkness.

“Call it an hour to get over
there, maybe two to track the body down and get them out, another
hour across town, and a half to be safe?” She doesn’t pause long
enough for anyone to give their opinion on her time estimates.
“That means we’ll be ready to go over at 0030. If you can pull off
a big distraction at 0015, that should give them enough time to
call all the on-duty forces in ...” She trails off, looking at his
raised hand, and lifts an eyebrow. “We’re not in class, you don’t
have to put your hand up.”
Although I
can’t say I hate it.

He coughs, drops his hand a bit, and points to
the comm he’s wearing on his wrist. “This one’s not just for show.
Why don’t ya just comm me when yer ready ta rock? Wouldn’t that be
easier than all this ‘set clocks ta synchronize at midnight when
the crow flies east’ stuff?”

Eech, he has a point.
She blinks and rolls her eyes. “And if my comm
breaks, or there’s interference, or ... alright, yeah. I’ll comm
you. But, if you haven’t heard from me by midnight, blow something
up anyway. Even if our mission breaks down, I like it when they
have explosions to clear up. Gives them something to do. Hey, make
sure it’s civilian casualty free though, aye?”
If we go down, at least Dad will see we didn’t go
quietly.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m gonna get my boys ta
help me run game on City Hall. We’ll take out a gatehouse or two;
they’ll think they’re under full-on attack, we’re shadows in the
moonlight, an’ all that. Uncatchable mischief-makers. Ya’ll get yer
distraction. Ya got a map of the slums? I’ll show ya where ta head.
My boy Dent and his missus’ll put ya up ‘til yer ready ta bust a
move. And they’re smugglers, so no probs hiding ya.”

Smugglers. Makes sense. Bet that’s
how he knows Kion, too. I know he’s still in touch with the nomad
tribes.

“Smugglers. Great. They’ll probably make us
lie under the floorboards and pretend we’re sacks of grain,” Abial
mutters. “This all sounds like the best plan ever.”

Her sarcasm makes Serena roll her
eyes.
And how is that attitude gonna
help?

“We ready to bounce?” She injects some false
confidence into her question.

“Not yet. I gotta beep my boys.” He starts
tapping out a message at high speed, doing this – just like
everything else – a little faster than seems normal.

Then he taps his foot, pretending impatience
as he waits for a reply, and grins when his comm lights up. “Nice.
All ready? Reilly’s on ‘is way ta wipe the place down. He’ll move
the rest of this out for ya as well.”

Just as he says it, his wrist unit flashes
again and he grins, pulling the door open a crack. A hasty exchange
of muffled words is followed by a long-limbed blonde man easing his
way into the room. His clothes are a mottled grey-black that makes
him almost impossible to see, and he’s dripping wet. Serena gives
him a quick once over, noting his athletic build, raw-boned face,
and deep-set brown eyes that dart around the room. He looks like
he’s seen his fair share of fights, judging by the broken nose, but
there’s an intelligence in his features that makes her believe he’s
not just a thug.

He wrings his sleeves out briefly, the water
pattering on the floor, and performs an elaborate bow. “Evening,
ladies. I do hope this miscreant hasn’t tainted your visit to our
fine city.” He mournfully squeezes out his hair, and then sighs.
“Lost cause. Hope you’re prepared for a shower. S’unbelievable out
there!”

Serena smirks and moves toward the
door, unable to keep the thrum of anticipation out of her voice.
“Little water never hurt anyone. 'Sides, it’ll help cover us. Dig
your greys, by the way.”
I gotta get me
some of those.

Water drips slowly off the end of his wide
nose as he flashes a broad grin in reply. “Well, good luck in your
endeavours. Don’t worry about your prints. I’ll scrub the place
bare.” He shrugs off a flat pack and unrolls it on the table,
grabbing a small reader unit and clicking it on. The screen lights
up and shows all the fingerprints and smears on the table in front
of him. “And then I’ll get some third-party contractors in to touch
everything a bit. Nothing more suspicious than a well-cleaned
joint. Freedom go with ya!”

Satisfied that he seems to know what he’s
doing, Serena watches interestedly as he sets to work, using a
cloth to rub down the places they’ve touched. He whistles softly as
he cleans, and Leaf claps him on the shoulder.

“Later, Rei!” He sidles to the door, looks
out, and grins at the girls. “Ready ta get wet?”

Serena nods eagerly and they head into the
maelstrom outside.

THEY’RE SOAKED
IMMEDIATELY
, and she’s grateful for the
shock pads covering her torso, as they keep her chest and back
feeling dry. The rain isn’t cold, but being drenched soon loses its
novelty, and the visibility is terrible. Uneasy, she flicks her
eyes back and forth, tempted to use her power to read her
surroundings. It’s safer to keep it shut down, though, so she
curses to herself and resists. They stay close together as they
traipse through the already ankle-deep flooding.
I miss my boots so much.
Most of the civilians are inside by now, having opened their
reservoirs up and retreated into the dry. There’re still some kids
playing around, and a few shifty-looking teenagers startle from a
doorway as they pass, running off into the rain with dramatic
splashes like hunted animals. Probably a drug deal – loser kids fed
up with their cushy but boring existences.

Brats.

The constant noise of the rainfall steeps
everything in a fuzzy-grey layer of unreality, and time seems to
stretch out and drag. The muffled splashes of their own footsteps
create a bizarre counterpoint, going on and on until she finds
herself breathing in time with it. They pass towering buildings
with elaborately sweeping designs that are now acting as water
chutes, causing miniature waterfalls on almost every corner, and
she notices that Leaf looks totally bedraggled; having shucked his
topcoat before leaving the safe house, he’s now clad only in a
thin, dirty-brown shirt that clings to his body, outlining
disproportionately large chest muscles. His hair is slicked down
over his forehead, and he sporadically scrapes it to one side to
clear his vision.

They start to jog, and though she's in good
shape, the streaming water pulls uncomfortably at her feet, forcing
her to alter her gait to relieve the pressure on her calf muscles.
She hopes they won’t be out here too long, as the first twinges of
a cramp are forming from the unnatural movement. The street becomes
more and more uphill, until it’s hard going for all of them, and
Leaf ducks into a large doorway, shuffling into the corner to make
room.

He’s gasping like a beached fish,
and Serena collapses against the wall, already exhausted, working
to stretch out her sore lower legs, and gritting her teeth against
the ache.
Shit, we’re only, what ... maybe
halfway? I’m gonna have to start using my power to stop the water
pressure if this keeps up, and that’s gonna drain me, fast. I gotta
eat.

As though he’s read her mind, Leaf digs around
in his cargo pockets and hauls out a few foil-wrapped bars. “Snack
break. This here’s hard work. Makes ya wonder about that swimmin’
stuff ya hear about sometimes.”

They all take a bar and unwrap it, grateful
for the brief respite. After a few glugs of water and a mournful
look at the bleak street, Leaf jerks his head.

“Alright then, back to it. I
reckon we’ll hit the first buildin’ in about half an hour.” He
sounds so morose that Serena elbows him gently and forces a grin
past her own exhaustion, feeling like it’s up to her to encourage
him. The last thing they need is Leaf bailing and leaving them to
find their own way in this awful weather. They’d probably march
right into a patrol or wander around in circles until dawn.
C’mon, Leaf. Stick with us. We need
you.

“Least there’s no one on the streets, and the
cams probably won’t grab us in this mess.”

As soon as she says it, she wishes she hadn’t
said anything about the cameras. The idea of the Institute watching
them just makes it all that much worse. Soldiers could be
converging on their position right now, and in this weather she
wouldn’t know until they were on top of her.

He rolls his eyes at her and pointedly wrings
out his fringe, a river of water trickling down his neck, but
despite his apparent distress, just sniffs and slides out of the
doorway.

They reluctantly follow his trudging form back
into the downpour. All the water and lack of visual information is
so disorientating that she’s taken completely by surprise when a
Watch patrol almost runs into them at the crossroads. Her throat
freezes, mouth dropping open.

Nuke, we’ve got to get off the
road. What do we do?
So much for being
trained soldiers. Her radar was so jammed that she didn’t even know
they were coming.

But the patrol doesn’t even hesitate, just
runs right past them as they dither.

She clears her throat, embarrassed and
pathetically grateful that the soldiers were distracted enough by
whatever it is they’re hunting to stamp right past.

Abial looks like she feels about the same way,
awkwardly looking down the street as she asks, “Well, we’ll
probably see them again in a minute. Is there a different route we
can take, Leaf?”

There’s no answer, and Serena glances around,
her breath catching. He’s nowhere in sight.

“Leaf?” Abial repeats her call a little
louder, worry colouring her tone, and he melts out of the gloom in
front of them, looking sheepish. Serena releases the breath that
had been caught in her throat, strangling her, and tries to quash
the panic that had threatened to swamp her.

“Yep. Sorry. Automatic response.” He points at
the retreating Watch patrol. “Soldiers make me hide.” He grins
lopsidedly and she goes to pat him on the shoulder, surprised by
how relieved she is that he’s back.

He shifts sideways, avoiding the contact,
though, and she drops her hand after a moment and purses her lips,
making a mental note that he apparently doesn’t like to be touched.
Interesting.

“Yeah, alright. Not a fighter, we got it.
Anyway, alternate route?” Her tone is gruffer than she means it to
be.

“Hold it!” An authoritative voice suddenly
calls from close behind them, and startled, they spin around. Shit,
another soldier. Just when she thought they’d gotten away. Worse,
there might be more, and they can’t afford to draw attention to
themselves.

She processes several things at once. Leaf is
gone again, as though by magic, and there’s no sign of him, though
it seems impossible that they wouldn’t have at least heard him
splash away. Abial is poised with her hands up, ready to fight.
That’s not the reaction of an innocent civilian, and Serena curses
internally.

Then something else registers. The soldier
who’s standing only a couple of metres away from them is, somehow,
Gav Belias. He has his zap up and pointing at them. She can barely
see him in the torrential downpour, but the way he holds his body
is unmistakable after the time she spent looking/not looking at him
on the tube.

Oh, nuke. We’re screwed. Does he
have back up?