Chapter 10
After the slow start of the first few days, they were now racing along. With a vehicle and a plan at last they both felt a renewed sense of hope. What they'd do when they got to Montreal was still undecided but they both felt they'd know when they got there. They'd driven all day, only stopping to switch out the driving so Dorian could power down for a few hours and use the solar charger that they'd strapped to the roof. In the first two days, they'd walked for about fourteen hours, barely stopping for more than the shortest of breaks. Dorian had been impressed with the Captain's resiliency but when he'd finally convinced her to stop she'd collapsed each night into fitful dreams. He'd spent the nights making sure she ate something, stoking a fire to keep her warm and keeping watch, reluctantly waking her again at first light to carry on. He didn't begrudge the arrangement, he knew that she was hurting and yet she'd carried on without a single complaint while he'd been getting more and more irritated as his power ran low. It had been a relief when she'd taken the wheel from him and he'd been able to use what little power was stored in the charger.
Now he was feeling better, not at 100 per cent but good enough and he was back at the wheel. Captain Maldonado was asleep in the passenger seat, her boots abandoned in the foot well, her socked feet propped up on the dashboard in a vain attempt to elevate them to reduce swelling. The cassette player was playing Wheel In The Sky quietly, and Dorian was singing along just under his breath, not wanting to wake his exhausted boss. It was nearing midnight now, the sun had set hours ago, and they were just starting to enter the built-up outskirts of Montreal.
They'd not seen anyone since the car they'd failed to flag down two days previously, but now signs of life were starting to show, a candle burning in a house window, or a car that looked more maintained than the rusted out wrecks they'd passed on the highway, and most tellingly, every available space seemed to be struggling to grow something. Gardens had been planted with vegetables, bigger spaces had wilted looking crops struggling in them. Nothing was flourishing, but they were trying and it suggested permanence and an attempt to make the best of things.
Dorian had shut off his peripheral systems to save energy, so he almost missed the man sat on his front steps were it not for the faint glow of a cigarette in the dark. He pulled up and got out of the car, but it caused the man to leap up and grab a shotgun from the step behind him, cocking it and aiming it at the android.
"Woah!" Dorian said gently, "I'm not going to hurt you."
"You ain't gettin' nuthin'," he growled with a thick accent. "I won't hesitate to shoot you."
"We don't want anything from you." Dorian said again. "I just want to talk."
The car door clicked open and the man flinched, waving his shotgun in the Land Rover's direction, but he seemed to relax when Sandra Maldonado got out, in her blood-stained socks and sleep mussed hair.
"We're looking for our friend." She explained. "We're worried about him, he could be injured."
"Sorry about that." The man said, lowering the shotgun but not releasing his firm grip of it. "You know how it is, and we've had a bit of trouble lately."
"All this is yours?" Sandra gestured to the crops, "It's impressive."
He shrugged, "It's the communities, we all work the land, we all fight to protect it."
"From whom?"
"From whom? Where did you say you're from? From everyone!"
Dorian was about to answer when Sandra interrupted him. "You're right. Sorry, it's just been a while since we were in a city. We've been on the road."
"It's a good vehicle you got there. You should be careful goin' further in. There's plenty a folk who wouldn't think twice about putting a bullet in yer t' have it."
"We'll bare that in mind."
"So… your friend, he know anyone in town?"
"No. But he may have gotten in trouble with some people."
The man shook his head sadly. "You might want to try St Emmanuel's, there's still a few doctors working there, if he's hurt he may have wound up there. It's signposted from the highway."
Dorian nodded and jogged round to get back into the Land Rover. "We really appreciate it." Sandra smiled, getting back in. The man gave them a half-hearted wave goodbye as they pulled away. Dorian watched him in the rear-view mirror as he sat down and secured his shotgun beside him again.
They drove on, as they got further into the city, houses with gardens made way for apartment blocks and high-rises. Broken down cars and litter was strewn across the streets, the walls covered with graffiti. There were more people out too, despite the lateness of the hour. They passed a group who were huddled round a trash can fire, passing a bottle of clear liquid around. All five of them stopped their conversation and stared as the Land Rover drove passed. Sandra flipped the locks down on her door, clearly cautious of the man's warning. Dorian's eyes flicked down to the handgun he had secured in his shoulder holster, making sure his jacket was undone enough to provide him with easy access. He found himself more than ever wishing that John was with them, he missed the reassuring smirk John would give every time they were about to hurtle themselves into danger.
They made it through without incident, turning downtown towards the river. There was someone moving along hurriedly, hands in pockets, head down, in a rush to get home. Someone else sprawled at the mouth of an alley, blood stains on their shirt, Dorian almost got out to help but a quick scan told him that the young man was dead. A couple walked along the same street, arms linked together, stepping round the body without even a second glance. Then, they heard music coming from an old pub, lit with candles, the soft sounds of a live guitar, no amplifier, barely cutting through the noise of the crowd. Another sign of life, a house lit with candles, a smash of glass and a woman screaming, "Get out of here you asshole!" Dorian and Maldonado exchanged glances but they weren't cops this far from the border and knew their interference wouldn't be appreciated, they drove on.
When they got to St Emmanuel's Hospital it was clear they'd come to the right place. Here, unlike anywhere else they'd seen actually had light, electric light, although most of it was still in darkness to save energy. As they pulled up, so did another car, screeching to a halt outside the front doors to the Emergency department. A young woman got out, clearly in distress and went to the back seat, whispering in a panicked voice to whomever was in the back. Dorian leapt out of the Land Rover and rushed over, Sandra hot on his heels.
"Help me, help me." The woman, was in her twenties, with ripped jeans and a faded oversized coat, dark hair scraped into a messy ponytail. She had tears streaked down her dirty face. "It's my mom."
As Dorian got to the back seat he could see a thin woman laid across the back seats, struggling to get up. She looked gaunt, almost skeletal, all the hair gone from her head including her eyebrows and lashes. Dorian crouched by the open door of the beat up old car and reached in to help her. He slid his arms around the woman, under her knees and across her back and lifted her into his arms, she was so light.
"Oh my god, thank you so much!" The woman was sobbing, "She's really sick, I need to get her to a doctor."
"We will." Sandra promised, placing a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll help you."
The woman nodded and lead the way into the hospital. Dorian carried the older woman with ease as she slipped in and out of awareness, as he did he ran a scan of her, stage four Hodgkin's Lymphoma, her body was riddled with tumours. It was something that was treated easily on the other side of the wall, they'd had a ninety percent success rate for over four decades now, but with the state the woman was currently in, Dorian didn't hold out much hope for her.
The Emergency room was chaos, with concerned looking people huddled in it, taking up most of the available space. Dorian couldn't see a doctor anywhere. Miraculously there was an empty gurney in the corridor and Dorian laid the woman down on it gently. "I'm going to find a doctor okay?" He promised, leaving Maldonado there to comfort the two women. He jogged down the hall towards the nurse's desk. It was void of people. He asked a group of people sat on the plastic seats lining the corridor but they all just shrugged.
He then heard a deep gravelly voice from behind one of the privacy curtains, telling a patient to relax.
"Excuse me Doctor?" Dorian called out, not wanting to just barge in.
"You'll have to wait your turn, I'm busy." The voice grumbled.
"I appreciate that Doctor, it's not for me. I've just helped a woman in who is really sick, I think she might be dying and I…"
He was interrupted then by a shout and a crash of metal on tile. He rushed back to where he'd left Sandra and the two women. The gurney had been tipped over on its side and Maldonado was sat on the floor, clutching the edge of the gurney in one hand and her bloody nose in the other. The two women were gone.
"Shit!" Sandra cursed as Dorian offered a hand and hauled her to her feet, keeping a hold of her arm as she steadied herself. She ran a hand through the back of her hair and checked it for blood, luckily coming back clean. "They caught me off guard."
"Are you okay?" Dorian asked, cupping her face in his hand and studying the damage, thankfully nothing was broken.
"Yeah, yeah I think so. I just don't know why…"
They were interrupted by the gruff voice. Dorian turned to see a weary looking man in his early fifties. He was dressed in scrubs, his silver-flecked dark hair falling over his face. "Dark haired woman and her sick mother?" He asked.
Dorain nodded, "Hodgkin's, how did you know?"
The doctor rolled his eyes, "did you come in a car?"
Sandra made the connection before Dorian did. She took off at a sprint for the front door. By the time Dorian caught up to her she was standing in the doorway staring at an empty space where they'd parked their Land Rover. The women's car was gone too. "Shit!" She cursed again. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" She lashed out, kicking the nearest thing, which was a disused lamppost, in an uncharacteristic display of anger, before sitting down on the curb and resting her arms on her knees.
Dorian went to sit beside her, close enough that their knees touched gently and he gave her a small nudge. "It'll be alright." He said.
"How?" She looked at him and her face was etched with a weary despair, blood smeared across her cheek where she'd wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "They took everything; all the food, water, your charging device..."
"Hey, you alright?"
Dorian looked up to see the doctor had followed them out. He had his hands in his pockets and was staring down at the pair of them.
Maldonado sighed, "Yeah, I'm fine." She had regained her composure almost instantly. "We've just lost everything we had."
The doctor nodded and crouched in front of her, pulling a penlight out of his pocket. He ran his calloused fingertips gently across her cheekbones, checking for any fractures or swelling and shone the light in her eyes, first one and then the other. When he was satisfied she didn't have a concussion he rocked back onto his heels. "They've been playing that scam for at least a year. But you saw what it's like in there. It's just me and two nurses and I can't be everywhere at once. I tried to get someone to enforce security but they cut a deal with him and he found he could do better on their side. Most people these days don't want to help others, it's a rare thing that you tried."
"We're here looking for a friend. We got separated and we think he might be hurt." Dorian explained. "We're hoping he came here. White guy, dark hair, six foot one, has a prosthetic right leg."
The doctor shook his head. "Nope, think I'd remember the leg, don't get many of those this side of the wall."
"Is there anyone else that would've seen him?"
He shook his head. "I mean it when I say I'm the only doctor. We're like gold dust these days. There are two more doctors for the transfers upstairs but if he's come into the hospital at all, I've seen him."
"Well it was a long shot." Sandra said, "thanks for your help."
"It's why they pay me the big bucks." He smiled grimly and stood.
"Oh, I'm sorry." She replied, "I don't have anything to pay you, it all went with the car."
He laughed then, "I'm joking, I don't actually get paid at all. People help me out with food and water if they can, bring me the odd book, it's enough to get us by, but I never expect anything."
"Have you ever heard of InSyndicate?" Dorian asked abruptly. Sandra shot him a look but he ignored it.
The doctor frowned, "Everyone in this city knows of InSyndicate. Hell, a whole load of us work for them."
"You work for them?" Sandra asked suddenly suspicious.
"Well, not so much. But they supply the medicines, get it over the wall. And in exchange I patch up their soldiers and allow them to recruit from here. Your friend with InSyn?"
"Sort of." Dorian replied.
"Well you may want to try asking downtown. They own a lot of the warehouses down there. Tell you what, there's an old church they run down there, Our Mother Of Mercy, they might be able to ask around, see if you can find your friend."
"Thank you." Sandra stood and shook his hand warmly, "If we ever find our Land Rover, we'll drop some supplies your way."
"Bonne chance." The doctor wished them good luck and then stepped back inside the hospital, shoulders hunched against the cold.
"The church he mentioned is about an hour's walk away." Dorian said, checking his memory banks for the city layout.
Sandra just nodded and started walking.
"You think striding into an InSyndicate hideout is a good idea?"
She shrugged. "I don't have a better plan right now, do you?"
Dorian just shook his head, he thought back to the hostage situation he and John had foiled the previous year. He hoped, like then, that the plan would come to them on the way.
The walk took them just over an hour, but eventually they were stood at the corner of the street, staring at the church in question. It had a large wooden door that was barely clinging to its hinges, having taken some damage during what had likely been a forced entry, but there was a dim yellow light inside that illuminated the stained-glass prettily. It looked cozy, hardly a stronghold for an evil terrorist organisation. Which was a good thing as they still didn't have a plan.
"What are we going to do?" Dorian asked in a hushed tone. "We can hardly just go in there and ask them."
"That's exactly what I'm going to do." Sandra smiled and then strode out of their cover and straight for the church. Dorian rolled her eyes and then hurried to catch up with her, thankful that they were both armed. When they got there, she didn't even hesitate, just pushed the heavy wooden door and it swung open.
Instantly they froze at the sound of a gun being cocked. "Who the fuck are you?" A woman shouted, striding towards them as they stood in the doorway. "We've got nothing for you scavenger scum so get the fuck out of here or I'll shoot you."
"Soph wait!" A voice called out from the back of the room, causing the woman to freeze.
Dorian looked passed the angry young woman to the rest of the room. It was an old stone carved church, of the kind that barely existed on their side of the wall anymore. The pews had been cleared out and instead it housed dozens of sick people laid out on mattresses. But there at the back of the room, was a man sat on the edge of someone's bed as he spooned food into a sick boy's mouth. The man was so beaten up, his face so swollen that Dorian wouldn't have recognised him were it not for the fact he was missing a leg.
"John!"
Authors Note: Yay! Together again. Sorry I split the dream team up for so long. As always, I really appreciate hearing from my regular readers, your kind words are keeping me going. Much love x