Road to Redemption, page 18
Zeke’s mouth dried as his own achievements were stated so baldly and matter-of-factly. It… did sound rather impressive, when it was put like that. He sounded rather impressive.
‘I’ve always strived to honour the Emperor with my actions,’ he said, a little hoarsely. And that was true enough, even if the nature of what he considered to be honouring had changed significantly over the years.
Korvra nodded, apparently satisfied. ‘Korvra is a true believer. Korvra finds no purpose in Sternhold. Korvra thinks Father Zeke has a purpose worthy of Him on Terra. Korvra will join Father Zeke.’
That wasn’t an offer of help, as Markur’s had been, that was just a simple statement of fact. The Soot Devils, or those of them represented here, considered themselves a part of Zeke’s congregation. Zeke wondered what would happen if he refused them, and instantly decided not to. Better to have an angry Goliath at your side than facing you.
‘And you?’ he asked the two Van Saars. They looked as sickly as most of their House, but their faces were grim and serious. Which, in fairness, wasn’t uncommon for Van Saars either.
‘Madrigan Basten,’ the woman said. There were streaks of grey in her long braid of brown hair, and she carried a lascarbine. ‘This is my husband, Creuf.’
Creuf nodded. He looked of an age with her, and his reddish beard came to a neat point on his chin. He held a small, innocuous-looking object in his right hand, and a device no larger than an autopistol strapped to his left forearm, but Zeke recognised an extendable shock stave and a deactivated energy shield when he saw them.
‘And your purpose here?’ he asked them.
‘My sister lived in Deadwired,’ Madrigan said bluntly. ‘I want blood.’
Zeke looked them all over once more. Ten Goliaths, admittedly from two different gangs, but apparently on good enough terms that they could walk out of the settlement’s gate without coming to blows. Hardened gangers, too, by the looks of them. Two Van Saars out for revenge, and while their fighting pedigree might be uncertain, they certainly had the right tools for the job. In exchange, they’d lose the wounded, and one former pit slave.
All in all, that seemed like a beneficial trade.
‘Get these people into Sternhold!’ he barked, pointing at the crawlers, and his congregation jerked into action. ‘Come on, hurry, hurry!’ He glanced at Kat again. ‘Tell me you got food.’
‘We got food,’ Kat beamed, patting a bulging satchel.
‘Good.’ Zeke spread his arms to the new arrivals. It was probably best to play up to his part a little bit. ‘Welcome to all of you, my friends. I cannot presume to speak for the Emperor, but I call on Him to bless you, for you have the gratitude of all of us here.’
‘What’s our route?’ Cruef Basten asked. Straight to business; Zeke would have expected nothing less from a Van Saar.
‘Lady Hammer couldn’t tell us which way our quarry went,’ he admitted. ‘Do you know anything?’
‘That’s the route to Seven Sumps,’ Creuf said, pointing in one direction. ‘You used to be able to branch off and get all the way down to Outlaw’s Deep and the rest of that dome, but the hive quake a while back closed that off. You’d have to circle right back round to get there now. So if they’ve gone that way they’ll be heading for Seven Sumps in the end, but it’s a long road.’
‘Perhaps we can catch them before they get there, then,’ Zeke mused. ‘Assuming they went that way.’
‘We might,’ Madrigan cut in, pointing in the other direction, ‘but we’re best off making for Chance’s Crossing. Once we’re over the toll bridge we’ll get to Bonetown. If Infernus hasn’t gone that way, there’s a route through the vents down to Seven Sumps from there. If we can find our way through, we might even reach it before him. So we’ll either be on his heels, or we might be able to cut him off.’
‘Vents?’ Zeke said dubiously. That sounded incredibly claustrophobic, even to someone who’d lived all his life in the underhive.
‘There are ways through, yes?’ Alin Choll said.
‘You know those vents?’ Zeke asked them, surprised.
‘Not those specific ones,’ Alin shrugged. ‘But Hive Primus vents follow a standard pattern, and there are signs placed during construction that we can use to navigate through, yes?’
Zeke folded his arms doubtfully. ‘So how come I’ve never heard of these patterns and signs?’
Alin Choll smiled. ‘You aren’t Delaque.’
THE EMPEROR’S MERCY
Essy didn’t know where they were, but she knew she didn’t like it.
Riding along on one of the father’s crawlers was better than being chained up in a cage, she supposed, but she really, really wished that she could just go home. She’d prayed to the Emperor for that, since that seemed the only way it was likely to happen, but it hadn’t worked. Her captors talked about the Emperor a lot, the father did particularly, but their version of the Emperor seemed very different to the one she knew. The Emperor her Ma and Da had told her about, and the one Zeke had taught her hymns about, and the one she prayed to… well, He was a nice old man a long way away, who’d died saving all of the Imperium but was still there somehow, looking after everyone. You had to be good, of course, and you had to pray to Him, otherwise terrible things would happen. But Essy had always believed that the Emperor wanted everyone to be happy, and would see to it that if you worked hard and didn’t do bad things like praying to other gods, or eating people, then you’d be happy when you died.
The monsters, though… they seemed to think they were the terrible things that would happen. They didn’t believe anyone loved the Emperor enough, or in the right way, except for them. Essy had heard them talking about it, and had come to understand that the other people the monsters had met since she and Donnel had been with them had been loving the Emperor wrong, and needed to be taught how to do it right.
Maybe Essy could have believed that, but there were now other people in the cages. She and Donnel weren’t allowed to go near them, but she’d not seen anyone doing any teaching.
Then they’d come to another settlement. She wasn’t sure of the name of it, but it was little bigger than Floodgrave, if at all. It didn’t have a wall, or anything fancy to keep the animals or the muties out, and the monsters had just rolled into town, casual as Quiet Tym dropping by to buy some slime crop. The father had called on everyone there to come out and pay homage to the Emperor, and they had, in ones and twos.
But of course, someone had done it wrong.
It was an old Van Saar woman, who was last out. The father had immediately yelled at her for being disrespectful, and one of the monsters had hit her. Essy had screamed, shocked by the casual violence of it, but Donnel hadn’t. He’d just sat quiet and watched, which was all he tended to do these days.
Of course, one of the other folk had moved to try to protect the old woman. Essy would have wanted to, but she knew what would have happened if she did. The man who tried to help was hit in the face and bundled to the ground, then held there by a boot on his chest. That might have been an end to it, but one of the monsters saw something. They’d grabbed him and hauled him back up, then pointed to his hand accusingly.
He had six fingers. Well, five fingers and a thumb, but that had been enough for the monsters to start screaming about him being a mutant. Essy thought there were far worse mutants around than someone with an extra finger, and maybe that shouldn’t be such a big problem, but what she thought didn’t count, of course. The monsters pulled their weapons out, and then things got nasty.
She’d turned away, and grabbed Donnel to cover his eyes. She’d wondered about trying to run away, but Bella had appeared near them, as always, so that wasn’t going to work. And where would she run to, anyway?
The gunshots had stopped now, and Essy heard footsteps approaching.
‘Where’s the girl?’ the father’s voice demanded.
‘Right here,’ Bella replied.
‘Have you got her gun?’
‘Of course.’
‘Bring them.’
Essy was grabbed by the arm and hauled around, then dragged across the uneven ground towards the middle of the little town. She could already smell smoke. Smoke seemed to follow the monsters everywhere. It was as though they breathed it; as though they ate fire.
There was a fire, over to one side, with several dark shapes on it. Bodies of the dead, already beginning to catch light. In front of Essy, though, were the bodies of the living, and that was an even less pleasant sight.
Three of them, two men and a woman. One was the old Van Saar woman, one was the six-fingered man, and the last was a dark-haired man who appeared to be very unwell, judging by the sag of his head and a bleeding lump on his forehead. His eyes rolled towards her as she approached, hauled along behind Bella, but there was no intelligence in them.
Each of them was kneeling in the middle of a pile of fuel blocks and freeze-dried fungus planks ripped from the surrounding buildings. They were all tethered to their own pole, which stuck up straight behind them, and each faced outwards in a different direction, with a cloth gag in their mouths.
‘Sinners and heretics,’ the father said, almost conversationally, to those assembled. Then he turned around and looked down at her. He had his mask on, as usual, so only his eyes and his mouth were visible. Essy thought that was more than enough. ‘And what do we do with sinners and heretics, Essy?’
‘Father Infernus punishes them,’ Essy muttered. She knew he still expected an answer when he asked a question.
‘I punish them?’ the father repeated. ‘No. No, child. We punish them. All of us together, all doing the Emperor’s work. Including you.’
He held out his hand, and Bella put a gun into it. It was the same stub gun Essy had been practising with, under Bella’s watchful eye.
‘Today, Essy, you’re going to help us. I want you to shoot these people.’
Essy put her hands behind her back, clasped them tightly so there was no chance of the gun being put into them, and shook her head.
‘No?’ The father tutted. ‘A pity. I’d hoped you would have heard the Emperor’s voice more clearly than that. Well, perhaps He will reach you, in time.’
He snapped his fingers, and two of the monsters stepped forth. One began dumping fluid onto the pile of fuel: Essy’s nostrils caught the acrid, chemical tang of promethium. The other held a flamer. As she watched, he twisted a knob on the side of the weapon and the bright blue pilot light flicked into existence underneath the nozzle.
‘We’re going to burn them alive,’ the father said, in the same conversational tone. ‘Such is the punishment for sinners and heretics. Would you like to see that, Essy? Remember, the Emperor hates a liar.’
Essy shook her head in a panic. She tried to get away, but Bella’s hand clamped onto her shoulder and held her fast.
‘It doesn’t matter if you want to see it or not,’ the father told her. ‘You’re going to. Bella, hold her eyes open. The smoke might sting them a bit, and I’m sure they’ll water after a while, but she’ll get the idea.’
Essy screamed. Bella’s fingers reached up towards her face and she jerked away, trying to look away from the three bound figures in front of her, but the old woman took hold of her jaw and wrenched her head around again.
‘You don’t want to see this?’ the father boomed. ‘You don’t want to see them burned alive? You don’t want to hear their screams?’
He held the gun out.
‘Maybe you can do something about that.’
Essy froze.
‘If you shoot them dead,’ the father said, ‘I can’t burn them alive. They’ll already be dead. Their souls will be with the Emperor, to face His judgement, and whatever we do to their mortal flesh will no longer affect them in any way.’
Essy’s heart was racing so hard she could feel it galloping in her chest. Pa-dum pa-dum pa-dum.
‘Make your choice,’ the father told her. ‘Take up the gun and shoot them, or watch them burn. If you shoot anyone except them,’ he added, ‘we’ll burn your brother. But whether or not to shoot them… that’s your choice, Essy. Your choice, and yours alone.’
Pa-dum pa-dum pa-dum.
‘No?’ The father raised his right hand, the one without the gun.
The monster with the flamer squeezed the trigger.
‘No!’ Essy shrieked as the fire washed out onto the promethium-soaked fuel, which ignited instantly. ‘I’ll do it! Stop it! I’ll do it!’
‘You can’t stop fire!’ the father shouted at her. ‘You can’t stop the Emperor’s will! But you might be able to get there first!’
He thrust the gun at her. Cold. Heavy. Deadly.
Essy snatched it from him, and he stepped aside in a billow of robes, leaving her facing the pyre. The old Van Saar woman was directly in front of her, straining uselessly at her bonds. Flames were licking up around her, but they hadn’t really touched her yet. Nonetheless, she was already frantic. Her eyes caught Essy’s, flashed down to the gun, then back up to Essy’s face.
She nodded, desperately. Pleadingly.
Essy blinked away tears and raised the gun in both hands, aiming it, steadying it. She sucked in a breath, tried to ignore the stink of promethium smoke which was already tainting the air. The old woman’s chest was smaller than the barrels she’d been using as targets, but she was also standing closer.
Essy exhaled, and squeezed the trigger.
The gun roared and bucked in her hands, and a gaping wound erupted in the upper left of the woman’s chest. The woman screamed, and Essy screamed with her. It felt like something had broken in her own chest, seeing her actions commit this violence on another person, but the woman was still alive, and now her suffering was coming from the wound Essy had inflicted, not the pain of the flames.
Essy kept screaming and fired again and again, blowing out gobbets of flesh and blood and splinters of bone, until the chamber ran dry and the Van Saar was slumped forwards, her chest a red ruin and the woman herself very definitely dead.
‘Good!’ the father boomed. ‘Two more to go! Best take the mutant next, he’s starting to feel the bite of the flames!’
The man with six fingers was thrashing, agonised moans coming from his gagged mouth. The flames were growing stronger, and it looked like the clothes on his legs, kneeling in the middle of the fuel as they were, had caught.
Bella’s hand appeared, holding new rounds. Essy broke the gun open and desperately clawed out the empty casing between her sobs, then started to slot the new shells in.
‘Hurry up!’ the father urged her. ‘It looks like he’s in real pain now!’
Essy filled the last chamber, snapped the gun shut again, and ran the few steps to stand in front of the six-fingered man. His eyes were bulging as he rocked back and forth, trying to free himself.
‘Stay still!’ Essy shouted at him, trying to track him with the gun. ‘Stay still!’
He seemed to realise she was there. His eyes met hers and there was a moment of recognition, of acceptance, and then they closed. He stopped thrashing and held himself in position, quivering with effort and pain, his face screwed up as fire began to crawl up his back.
Essy didn’t hesitate this time: she knew he wouldn’t be able to hold still for long. She emptied the gun into his chest, and watched with relief as he sagged fowards, his suffering now over.
‘Not the most efficient execution I’ve ever seen,’ the father commented from behind her. He’d followed her around, staying behind her line of fire. ‘It got the job done, though. One more to go, unless you’d rather leave him. He took quite a blow to the head, and I’m not sure he quite knows where he is. Maybe he won’t suffer.’
Essy broke open the gun, emptied out the shells, and wordlessly held her hand out. Bella placed new rounds into it, and she loaded the gun again. Then she stalked around to the last man, with the father still in tow.
He was jerking. It wasn’t the frantic spasming of the six-fingered man, but he certainly wasn’t comfortable. His eyes were wide, and although they didn’t have the panic of the other two, the gaze he turned on her was one of pleading, barely comprehending misery.
Essy stepped closer, braving the heat of the flames, raised the gun, and put a single bullet into the middle of his forehead.
His head jerked back as his brains blew out the back of it, and then he too sagged into an almost peaceful stillness. Essy let out her breath. She felt hollow, as though she’d been scoured clean inside, leaving only a shell that might look like a person, but contained nothing of substance.
‘Well done,’ the father said, taking the gun from her hand before she could even think about what she might do with it next. ‘Very well done. You showed these people the Emperor’s mercy, Essy. They should be glad that you were here with us today.’
He strode off. Essy crumpled into a ball, and began to cry.
THE PRICE OF PASSAGE
Zeke hadn’t asked exactly what Chance’s Crossing was, which was why he was somewhat taken aback when the service passage they’d been following opened out into a new dome, but the road terminated at an enormous gate flanked by two watch towers. Above and beyond it was a gantry of metal struts, lit here and there by lumens that did little more than pick out the skeletal shape of it in the gloom. Visible beyond it on either side at ground level was a deep, dark shadow.
‘Hive rift?’ Zeke asked uneasily. He hated even being near such things, due to a deep-seated fear of a bit more of the hive’s structure crumbling beneath his feet and dumping him down into a gulf which looked to have no bottom but which, rather more painfully, probably did.
‘Aye,’ Madrigan Basten replied. ‘Runs the width of the dome, plus a bit more on either side.’
