Wixon's Day Read online

  “I’d rather not clear it up,” Marquos interjected calmly. “It’s too early in the day, Hawson.”

  Hawson lowered his baton, glowering at Barker as the latter gave an ugly grin.

  “This isn’t the day,” Hawson shook his head. He turned to Marquos. “I lost twelve chips in a game of scree last night, I swear to Modo it was rigged. I’d have smashed them all in if I wasn’t so damned out-numbered. The bastards.”

  Marquos frowned, looking down to Barker. The boy smiled back, and the pilot knew Hawson’s thoughtless talk in front of him was a big mistake. Marquos looked up ahead of them, trying to watch the water rather than get involved. This waterway snaked around the side of an underground cliff, constructed in a wooden aqueduct that climbed two stories from the children’s slums to one of the mining stations. It hugged the rock to one side and fell a hundred feet down to the other, into one of the large open spaces of the catacombs. There was an intricate network of rails, aqueducts and machinery down below, with fires lit periodically to provide a flickering orange light. At first, Marquos had liked to amuse himself by looking over the edge into the detailed workings of the catacomb, but its vast business quickly grew nauseating, and after a few days he had lost interest in the industrious cave. This morning, he was watching the water instead, keeping the boat steady. Hawson moaned on.

  “Do you know what I’ll do if I see those guys again? I’ll rip them apart. Fixed a game against me, it was robbery. Fucking robbery.”

  “How long were you playing for, Mr Hawson?” Barker asked brightly. Hawson stared at him for a moment, muttering “How long was I – how long? Why you little bastard. I told you to keep your trap shut, didn’t I? Always got something to say. Always got some comment on everything.”

  “Just making friendly conversation, boss!”

  “No one asked you to,” Hawson snarled, “Cut it out.” He turned back to Marquos “Then I have to come and put up with this. Day in, day out. The same, again and again. Bastard little villains, we ought to be killing three of them for every one we stick down these mines, they’re not worth the management.”

  “They’re not all bad,” Marquos slipped out without thought, and Barker was immediately stoked by the comment to shout out “Not all the kids are even criminal!” Hawson shot him an angry glare, but Barker threw up a hand, “Marqy knows it! You can hardly go denying it, Hawson, there aren’t as many criminals in the world as the Mine Guard have thrown down here.”

  “I’m warning you,” Hawson growled.

  “I don’t speak for myself,” Barker rattled on, “I’m sure I deserve everything I get. I talk too much. That’s a crime, I’ve figured that out, people don’t like a guy that has things to say. But look on this very boat I bet half the kids here didn’t do a thing wrong. Little Red right here, what’s she ever done to anyone? And little Tojo? Where’s little Tojo? He didn’t commit a crime and he knew it, and no one wanted him to talk about it so now he’s gone!”

  Hawson’s eyes rested on Red. He stepped forward, raising his baton, and said “You don’t think she ever did anything wrong huh? I’ll tell you one crime she’s got to her name right now and that’s knowing you, Barker.”

  “Don’t you say things like that,” Barker cried back, laughing, “You’ve never seen such an innocent girl as her.”

  “Yeah, what was his name?” Hawson leered at him, “You said it yourself she had a little friend once, didn’t she? He liked to run his mouth, too, you know. He wasn’t talking so much when his jaw was knocked in two, though, was he? When they took him down the tunnels and put something inside him other than ideas.”

  “Hawson,” Marquos warned, “Don’t go there. You never knew that boy.”

  “Sure I did,” Hawson gave a wicked grin back, “Yeah, I was there, with that pretty black-haired talker. Taught him a lesson that this one would do well to learn, too. Just a matter of time. Or maybe you’d learn better,” Hawson turned to Red, “If we taught it you through her.”

  Barker jumped to his feet to stand Hawson down, and the guard knew that he’d finally made an impact. Barker was barely shorter than Hawson, and the guard was made all too aware of it as the adolescent leant into him with angry eyes. The guard was already shaking from excitement, his baton tightly clutched, and a grin spread across his face when he saw that Barker was genuinely upset.

  “You can’t do that,” Barker snarled, “What’d she ever do?”

  Hawson looked him up and down, backing off slightly, and laughed at the shackles tied around Barker’s hands and feet. Red whimpered behind the boy. The other children were silent, tense.

  “Gee Barker, found something you don’t find funny at last?” Hawson laughed. He was acting delighted, but his voice betrayed trembling nervousness, “You really going to be a man? Hit me, I dare you. Hit me and see what happens. That’s the trick that Tojo learnt. Strike out, and it’s over. See if you survive the night you snivelling bastard.”

  “You’re a sick little man, Hawson, hitting the only people you know you can get away with. You deserve everything that’s coming to you,” Barker growled. Hawson snorted and shoved him back with the baton, making Barker stumble to the floor. Barker scrambled forwards, to jump back up, but Hawson rose the baton and he froze. Hawson stared into his eyes, saying “Give me an excuse, Barker. Do it.”

  Hawson twisted back to Red, whose eyes were streaming tears as she huddled against the side of the boat. She hid behind an arm, holding back any noises of anguish. Barker called out “You lay one more hand on her, Hawson, I’ll kill you!”

  The words were enough to move the guard into action, and he reached out to Red snapping “Come on you little bitch, let’s show Barker how fun it is to piss around with the Mine Guard.”

  Marquos jerked on the tiller and the whole boat swayed, making Hawson slip back. The guard caught his footing and glared at the pilot, a pang of confusion in his voice “What are you doing? Hold it steady you idiot!”

  Marquos stared back at him without a word, unsure of his own actions. He looked from Red quivering on the floor up to Hawson’s baton and slowly shook his head. Hawson narrowed his eyes. The guard took a step forward, demanding “Where do you get off trying to defend them?”

  He took one more step, and Barker saw his chance. The adolescent pushed himself up off the boat’s wall, launching his shackled feet up into the air and smacking both soles into Hawson’s side. The guard barely had time to spin back and shout out at Barker, propelled towards the edge of the boat, and the children around him parted in an instant, letting him roll on through. It was over in a second, as the guard upended over the edge of the boat and let out a desperate scream, his legs flipping out of view. Marquos pushed past the children and looked over the edge just in time to see Hawson’s body smashing into the rocks hundreds of feet below. Marquos winced at the sight but had no time to dwell on it. There were crashing movements in the cabin, the other guard shouting at the sound and making his way through the crowd below. Marquos stared at Barker with wide-eyes, the adolescent now silent and staring back with a look of silent pleading.

  The second guard burst onto the deck glancing around, demanding to know what happened. Barker immediately spoke up to say Hawson fell, his voice in a strained tone of shock. Marquos was speechless for a moment, unsure if Barker was putting on the emotional response. The guard shouldered his way to the edge of the boat and looked down, but they were still moving and Hawson’s demise had slipped out of view.

  The guard demanded answers from Marquos, who responded dumbly, barely able to comprehend it, claiming that Hawson had tripped. The guard shouted at him, angry at the apparent collusion, and turned on Barker threatening him. He told both the boy and the pilot that they would fry for such a crime. As he began another tirade, Marquos glanced to Barker who nodded to the back of the guard. Barker’s nodding quickened as the guard angrily rambled on, but Marquos tried to slowly shake his head, to stop what he saw coming. It was no use. As the guard rose his baton, Barker j
umped forwards and threw his shackled hands over the guard’s neck. The adolescent dropped back to the floor, using his full body weight to drag the guard down and strangle him. The guard flailed violently, and all the children cried out, scrambling away from the fight. Marquos stood watching, staring into the guard’s eyes as Barker squeezed tighter and tighter, using all his strength to crush the life out of the man. Seeing the guard’s limbs go limp, Marquos sprung into action and started pushing the children around him, “Get inside! All of you get down into the cabin!”

  The children complied without complaint, stumbling down the steps and squeezing in as Barker let out a loud gasp of effort, holding on with all his might. Marquos looked aside, up to the passages above them, the other aqueducts, the railway bridges. No one was looking in their direction from above, no one could see what was happening, though he knew the guards had to be mobilising somewhere. It was impossible that Hawson’s fall had gone unnoticed. Barker was panting, trembling at his own actions, and Red had further retreated, balled up in fear. Marquos looked down at them, releasing the throttle valve to speed up the boat.

  “By Kail,” Marquos whispered, “What have you done.”

  “Not me, chief, you saw they made me do it,” Barker replied quickly. He pushed the guard off him and said “You’ve got to help us, you’re a part of this too. You’ve got to help us, don’t let them kill us for it.”

  Marquos looked over the side of the boat, but could not make out whatever commotion Hawson’s fall might have caused. He looked ahead, to where the aqueduct turned around the wall of rock. There was a side-passage a short distance ahead that led straight into the Metropolis’ underground. If he stayed in the Mines, there was no way this day would go unpunished.

  “We can get out, before they send message up here about what’s happened,” Marquos hissed, “but there are guards before we do.”

  Barker quickly found the guard’s keys and unshackled himself, stripped the guard down and changed into his uniform. They threw the body down into the cabin of horrified children and sent Red down below with them. At the next guard post, word clearly hadn’t spread about Hawson’s fall, and with Barker posing as a retiring guard they gained access to the sewer system beyond. As they raced out of the mining complex, into the sewer tunnels, Red scrambled back out onto the deck, terrified. She fearfully asked if it was true about Tojo, and started crying at the thought; Barker was too frantic to console her, his usual manic energy converted into madly flitting comments about where they could go next, so Marquos knelt next to her and insisted that whatever had happened to Tojo, he would never let it happen to her. She looked him in the eye through rolling tears, and he said it again, giving her a stern promise.

  Barker urgently said, “They’ll be after you in a shot, you know that, they won’t let us get away.”

  “Let them come,” Marquos grimly responded, “They’re not touching her.”

  “What’ll we do?” Barker asked.

  “Did you kill them?” Red quietly queries.

  “They’re evil men, Red, we did what we had to do,” Barker whispered back. He turned to Marquos with a look of desperation, his eyes betraying his youthful fear, imploring Marquos for some kind of answer. The waterways were hidden from the world in a dripping labyrinth that Marquos had gradually come to learn. He told the boy, “I’ll take you to the northern city limits. Think where you can go from there.”

  Barker clutched his hair in his hands. He grinned awkwardly and let out an uncomfortable laugh, his usual defence in trying times. He told Marquos, “You can’t count on me to lead these kids, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Kids escape from the Mines all the time.”

  Barker nodded, thinking more carefully. He clicked his fingers and said “You’re right. I know where we can go. I can take them to the Kennel, we might be safe there, that’s where we’ll go.”

  The pilot eyed Barker carefully and said “You know where it is?”

  “I can find it, no problem. You drop us in the north waste compound and I’ll take it from there. Thanks Marqy,” Barker leant forward and took the pilot’s face in both his hands, a caring embrace. He shook Marquos, laughing “You’ve saved us, you don’t even know it!”

  Barker distractedly turned away, clambering down into the cabin to rally the other children. As the door swung shut behind him, Red stood staring in confusion. She looked up at Marquos and asked, “Is the Kennel a bad place?”

  Marquos looked back at her and forced a smile. He hesitated, thinking about her place in a slum of outlaw children. He had no doubt that most of these hardened prisoners would thrive there, but Red was not like the others. He could not let her go the way of Tojo. When Barker and the other children jumped off the boat at the northern waste compound, he said he would take any of them that needed it north. The children had no trust in adults left, though, or energy to consider such an option. Barker had already sold the Kennel to them below deck, and not a single one wished to risk staying on the boat. He received a number of hugs and weak comments of thanks as they all departed in an optimistic troupe, keen to follow Barker into liberty, and Marquos was left with Red. She held onto him for safety as they floated out of the city and began their long journey north.

  “You did more than I gave you credit for,” Goreth smiles at the tail-end of the story. “You made a choice, Marquos. You could have sided with the Guard then. Just as you could’ve when we boarded your boat.”

  “There was no choice,” Marquos denies it, “No question at all.”

  “And tell me, what happens next, when the child is safely home? How will you continue to fight?”

  “I’m not fighting now,” Marquos shakes his head. “Just doing what was thrust upon me. When she’s gone, I’m heading to the Deadland, and I’m going to reclaim some kind of respect. I’ll bring back what maps or stories of the North that I can, and I’ll be forgiven for my crime against Estalia. Then I’ll return to the life I had before.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “Does it matter?” Marquos asks. “I’ve let one child die out of apathy, I’m giving one her life back to balance it.”

  “And you’re heading to the North?” Goreth says sceptically. “That’s not much of a retirement plan.”

  Marquos shrugs, as though the plan now speaks for itself, and the Kand does not question it further, giving him an accepting nod instead. Goreth stands, claps his hands together, and says “Very well. I will see if they need help with the food, I’m sure another fine meal awaits us.”

  The night following Marquos’ lengthy tale brings a mute exhaustion that they all comfortably accept, eating and settling down to rest in silence. Red clings to Marquos, feeling safe against his body, and sticks by him as he slips onto the roof of the Hypnagogia and lays to rest. The Kands do not argue over who will take the rare luxury of the bed, merely collapse to sleep alongside one another. Marquos cuddles Red against him as she starts to snore, and he looks to the sky to clear his memories of the Mines. He struggles to keep his eyes open for just a little longer, trying to spot another break in the clouds, another sighting of the stars. The clouds do not break, though.

  18

  Marquos wakes with a start, not knowing why. His eyes open suddenly, the dim light of day is back upon them. He rolls aside from Red, the child still slumbering against him, and he sits up, looking down the hills towards the view he spoke of. Day has barely broken, but he knows it will get little lighter. The grey scene before him stretches some way into the distance, with none of the majesty he prophesied. The fields are untended, patchy barren soil, the trees are dying and the water of rivers and pools seems to suck light away. Thesteran sits a way off in the plains, and is evident not by the sprawling urban trimmings of its city, but by the dark cloud that surrounds it. Hardly different to the Meth Fields, some towers stand defiantly out of the distant mist, but much of what there is to see is concealed. Kail’s Shroud sits on the plains in vast, consuming patches, like a cl
oud seeping out of the land instead of the sky. Marquos stares at it all with a sinking heart, before he hears the throbbing.

  A sound like the beat of some giant wing. Marquos thinks he is imagining it and holds onto his head, trying to recall if he drank glus before retiring. The sound gets louder, though, and he looks aside towards the rising hills beside them, able to pinpoint its approach. The throb is rhythmic, clearer as the beat of air develops into the unmistakable churn of a propeller, accompanied by a smaller spluttering cough. Marquos shakes Red awake and says “Sweetie wake up! Wake up! I need you to-”

  Red stirs in his grip and pricks her ears to the sound, suddenly pushing away from him and crying out “What is it? What is it? I don’t like it!”

  She clamps her hands over her ears and lets out a fearful wail, to which Marquos launches forwards and grabs her, imploring “It’s okay! It’s nothing! Get back into the boat, okay? Get down there and tell the guys to lay low! It’s okay!”

  The pilot releases the girl and she scampers away, jumping down from the roof of the boat and crashing into the cabin below. Marquos climbs down onto the deck himself, looking through the doorway to see Goreth and Lian are already waiting. They need no words, their eyes alone telling the pilot to deal with this. He pulls the door closed and looks up to the sky.

  When the vehicle flings into view the whine of its mechanics takes on a new tone, a high-pitched squeak that must have been hidden by the walls of the hills. It flies low, with a trail of unhealthy smoke spewing from its rear, and passes over the Hypnagogia with a rush of wind that almost knocks Marquos down. He steadies himself on the tiller, stands up straight and watches as the vehicle flies away. It speeds a great distance in no time, suddenly nothing more than a trail of black smoke in the sky, but the trail has turned, and moves back around towards the hills. Marquos stares uneasily as the vehicle makes another approach.