Freedom
Chapter 24
My fifth day in the Zone started with a bang. A literal one; I sat upright, instantly awake. Sagaris' hand fell on my shoulder.
"Relax," he said. "It's the Merc."
"What's going on?"
"Somebody saw our light and camped out there. Wanted to get us coming out. Merc's on the roof killing them. We just have to wait."
"Merc on merc violence," Velvet said, shaking her head. "What's the world coming to?"
Another shot echoed out over the valley, the sharp blast of the Merc's AWM. "That's two." Sagaris yawned.
"They like to do four man teams these days. It used to be three, but these are dark times. He'll get one more, the last one will panic and run," Velvet said knowingly.
"Shoot him in the back." Sagaris went to the window and peered out. "I think I see one."
"Get him," the Biker said without hesitation. He was still lying on his back, eyes closed. I watched Sagaris put his rifle to his shoulder and lean out, then pull back.
"He spotted me."
"Get down."
The stalker did, but nobody shot at him. Several more seconds passed. I carefully rose to a crouch, making sure everything was accounted for. I picked up my carbine, though I had no intention of using it. Sagaris crouched beneath the window. The AWM boomed overhead, and he got up to look. "Damn." He brought up his HK91 and fired several shots. "Merc only winged him."
"You get him?"
"Yeah."
"Should be one more. Wait it out, no hurry." Indeed, Velvet did not look at all worried. She had a shard of mirror out, and was examining her reflection. The bruises on her face were starting to fade. She wrapped the broken bit of mirror in a cloth and put it away, getting to her feet and picking up her MPL. She switched on her earpiece and listened to something on the air.
Now the Biker was getting up. He rubbed his chin and scowled. "Is there time for me to shave?"
Velvet waved at him distractedly. I watched him draw his combat knife, and pour water over it. Was he really – yeah, he was. I thanked my genes that I'd never have to shave at all, much less with a combat knife. It just wasn't a good idea. And where had that knife been? It looked clean, but still.
The fourth and final shot came.
"Ow," the Biker said. He'd flinched and nicked himself. He should have seen that coming. A moment later, there was a clatter as the Merc descended the exterior stairs. He came inside, carrying his rifle.
"Done?" He nodded. "Worth looking at?" Velvet asked. He shook his head.
"That's what you think." Sagaris headed out, looking determined.
"Pack it up, people. Mist, get the girls."
"Aye aye."
Velvet pointed a finger at the Biker. "Cover that up. You want to go into the lowlands with an open wound?" It wasn't necessary; he was already applying a bandage. I patted myself down to be sure I had everything, then headed over to the girls. The older one was holding Purple.
"Time to go. You need anything?"
Purple didn't reply. The older one stared at me. Annoyed, I pulled up my mask and gave her a warning look. I didn't want her placing me until after I'd placed her. "Come on," I said to Purple, jerking my chin at the Merc. "As long as he's around, what have you got to worry about? All you have to do is walk. Are you hungry?"
I think my efforts to seem nice and cuddly helped a little, but it was going to take more than kind words to erase the image of me standing in that corridor, surrounded by corpses. They were both scared of me. They were both scared of everybody and everything, except maybe Velvet. I thought that was a good view to take, considering.
There was no sign of the Morton Stalker when I got outside to check. He and his gear were gone. I hoped he hadn't hurt himself too badly.
My hand wasn't bothering me, and I was in pretty high spirits once we got going. Frank hadn't been kidding when he warned of the slog. The rolling hills quickly gave way to a misty bog, which was not at all enjoyable to cross. But these were the lowlands, and in a group, this was the safest and quickest way to reach the channel.
Trust is something of a commodity in the Zone, and because of that, stalkers rarely move in large groups. We didn't expect to run into anyone down there, but we did. It wasn't exactly an ambush. The Biker and the Merc tensed just moments before the men began to appear, hazy outlines, indistinct in the low fog. There were about half a dozen of them, and I didn't have to be able to see them clearly to know they had their weapons trained on us.
Sagaris swore quietly. These stalkers had appeared out of nowhere, not silently, but the fog interfered with sound. Nobody said anything. What needed to be said? Sudden moves weren't a good idea. Slowly, Velvet pulled up her gas mask to cover her face, and moved her MPL to hold it where it obscured her chest. It wasn't perfect, but the fog was getting thicker. The Biker turned, and I followed his gaze.
A figure was making its way toward us, hands raised. The others were holding their positions. We were all covered. Sagaris stepped between the girls and the guy coming at us. We all had weapons in hand, but we didn't have a prayer of raising them.
Sagaris swore.
I understood his feelings. I've done my research. I know Duty armor when I see it. I eased my safety off, looking to the Biker. He gave a minuscule nod. Things didn't look good, but I had a couple of things up my sleeve. Literally.
The man emerged from the fog. He wore light Duty armor, dark gray and black, with red trimmings. He wore no helmet, his short brown hair was more or less in order, and he was clean shaven. He had a presentable face, normal enough, but something about him chilled me. I didn't see a weapon.
As he neared, the tension left the Biker – then returned. He shifted his stance, ever so subtly. The Merc didn't move.
"Fancy seeing you here," the Duty man said, surprising me with a crisp British accent. "And you," he added, looking up at the Merc. He was right on top of us now. He paused in front of me. "I like your mask," he said, then turned to look up the hill at his men. As he did, I saw the CZ 100 holstered in the small of his back. "I suppose we do look a little scary from down here," he said, giving me a smile. "But don't worry, we won't hurt you." He turned to the Biker. "We just couldn't help but be curious about such a large group. Especially at this time of year."
"We're just walking."
"I can see that." The Duty stalker took a few steps to stand in front of the Biker. "How've you been? I hope you aren't still sore over our little disagreement."
"Which one?"
"Either one."
"Do I look sore?"
"Hard to say." The Duty man put his hands on his hips. "Introduce me to your friends."
"Just freelancers. Looking for work."
"We've got work."
"Not that work."
"Let me refine the terms of my search." The Duty man's eyes were very cold. "What work are you hoping to find in a bog?"
"We're going to Kevorich."
"That wasn't so hard."
I let a knife slide out of my sleeve and into my hand. If the Duty man took another step toward me, I'd have him. If I could take him hostage, maybe we could get the ball rolling in a healthier direction. I'd seen the way he was looking at the girls. They were hidden by the coats, but he was suspicious. One very short stalker in a group was one thing. Three was going to draw attention.
I noticed the Biker's hand moving. He was making sharp, but minimalist motions at me with his left hand, which hung at his side. He didn't want me to do anything. I wasn't sure what to think, but he'd been in the Zone longer than I had. I decided to trust him. I eased the knife back out of sight.
"I lied to you, Biker." The Duty man held up his hands as he made the announcement. "It wasn't the group that made me stop you guys." He pointed a gloved finger at the girls. "It was the coats. You know how it is." He shrugged, stepping past the Biker, but turning to face him as he walked backwards. "I try so hard to be a liberal progressive, but at the end of the day, I still have prejudices. You don't mind if I look, do you?" he said, and grinned. He faced Sagaris, who stood between him and the girls. "How about it?"