He feinted. She dodged, and, knowing exactly where she would go, he used the club in a thrusting motion. It made contact with her solar plexus – exactly as he’d planned. She was already moving away from the blow, though, and it connected without the weight he’d hoped. As he recovered his balance she was back in his face again and he could see the calm exultation in her expression. The certainty of purpose and utter absence of fear. And this, more than any speed she’d shown, was what shook his belief.
Behind him he heard the cries of shock and frustration as the other Parsons faced the same agility, the same self-assuredness and he knew that they would die.
All of them.
Swiftly.
Without mercy.
And yet, without malice.
It made him think of the Chosen.
Twenty-three
He had to slow down so that Magnus’s men could keep up with him.
The stamping of dozens of pairs of boots echoed off the cracked pavements of Abyrne’s streets as the black-coated army passed through. All the men loped, beefy and bulky. Shanti ran at the front of them like a whippet before a pack of wolves. Townsfolk shrank into doorways, peeped from windows and pressed themselves back against damp brick walls as the mobsters ran by. Magnus’s men, upholding their pride, pretended the running wasn’t affecting them as they clattered through the streets, but when they reached the fringe of the Derelict Quarter they let their faces show the pain. None of them was as fit as Shanti. Not by miles.
In the shattered, abandoned districts of the Derelict Quarter, while Shanti still ran lightly over every obstacle, the others stumbled and lumbered.
‘…Wait,’ shouted Bruno. ‘Stop… a moment… damn you.’
Shanti glanced over his shoulder and slowed a little.
‘What is it?’
‘Take a look… we’re exhausted.’
Behind Bruno the Magnus contingent, allegedly among his best men, were strung out like a caravan of refugees. Even Shanti could see they were easy prey.
He stopped and Bruno caught up to him. The big man couldn’t regain his breath. By ones and twos the others joined them. It took several minutes for the last man, shorter and fatter than all the others, to arrive. All around him the Meat Baron’s men sat or lay down on the churned debris.
‘Let’s go,’ said Shanti.
There were ill-tempered shouts of protest.
‘Let them rest,’ said Bruno.
‘For how long?’
‘As long as it takes for them to be ready for a scrap. We can’t lead them into battle in this state.’
‘No. They’ve rested enough. We have to move now.’
‘Who the fuck put him in charge?’ someone shouted.
‘Here,’ said the last man in, still struggling to breathe. ‘Let’s tie his ankles together so he can’t run. Use my tie.’
‘Let’s just go back and say we couldn’t find anything. Magnus’ll off this one and his family and it’ll be business as usual.’
The grumbling increased in volume.
‘Shut up, all of you,’ shouted Bruno. ‘You’ve got five more minutes to rest and then we move on. Save your breath.’
Shanti was aghast.
‘Five minutes? It’s too long.’
‘It’s what I’m giving them.’
‘Bruno, I’m begging you. You know what he’s doing to my family. To my girls. Please.’
Bruno sat down on a tilted slab of concrete and ran his hands through the oily mess of his hair.
‘You brought all this on yourself, you know, Shanti. Acting weird with the Chosen, this running crap you do every day, not eating the flesh. Torrance told me all about you. If it wasn’t for your usefulness in the plant, your status would have been revoked a long time ago.’ Bruno rummaged in his coat pockets and brought out tobacco and papers. He proceeded to roll a ragged cigarette. ‘I’ll tell you something about my boss, Shanti. When he gets an idea into his head, he can’t get it out until he’s made it happen. The moment he thought about taking your family, they died. Right in that instant. He’s not going to keep any promise he’s made to you. He’s going to use you, use your wife and daughters, and then he’ll kill you. All of you.’ He lit the cigarette and took a long pull. It seemed to calm his breathing instantly but Shanti noticed that his fingers trembled as he smoked. ‘I’ll tell you something else. I’m going to make sure he sees his plan through to the end. I can’t wait to see you gone. You don’t belong in this town.’
Shanti turned away and looked out into the Derelict Quarter. Ruination stretched to the horizon. Perhaps it extended far beyond. He was one man against many and he was leading his worst enemies to the hideout of Abyrne’s saviour. Not only was John Collins his ally, he had also become a friend. They believed in the same things, held the same dreams dear. Was he really going to sacrifice the man to save his children from Magnus? How many more children, hundreds of thousands more, had been killed already in the pursuit of meat and the assuaging of the town’s deep hunger? Collins’s death would be a far worse sacrifice to make than his daughters’. Collins’s end would signal an end to hope. Shanti knew it, could not deny it. But things were in motion now that he could not stop. Without his guidance, Bruno might be too slow. He might not even find Collins. It was his girls who needed him.
When he skipped away from Bruno, leapt a few chunks of broken concrete and tore off back towards the town, none of the men stood up to chase him.
‘Fuck it,’ said Bruno.
‘What do we do?’ asked the fat straggler.
Bruno checked his watch.
‘We finish our break and then we go find Collins.’
‘What about him?’
Shanti was already a small figure against the backdrop of rubble.
‘There’s more people at the mansion. Enough to take care of him.’
‘Magnus is going to be raging.’
‘True. But he’ll be even worse if we don’t finish what we came out here to do.’ Bruno stood up with a grunt. ‘Come on you lot, on your feet. Let’s get this job done.’
‘How will we know where to find Collins now?’
‘I’ve got a feeling about where he is. Just a hunch really, but I think there’s a good chance he’ll be there. At the back of the arena, where they train the fighting bulls, there’s a breach in the wall that leads to a lot more caverns and tunnels. If I’m right and we keep heading out this way, the way Shanti’s been leading us, I think we’ll find the place where those tunnels come out. If we don’t, we’ll go to the bullring and do it the other way round. Can’t go wrong.’
He slapped the shorter man on the shoulder and led them all deeper into the ruins.
Magnus grunted and sweated and shook in his frustrated desire for them. He didn’t need to use force with these little ones. That was too easy. With children it was always words that were his weapons. He sat on the wooden coffer at the end of his huge bed, his dressing gown open to reveal his hairy, plump gut and the tumescence below it.
By the window, as far from the bed as they could get, Hema and Harsha held onto each other, their small fingers clenched painfully over each other’s skin. The first part of his game had gone well. Cajoling and chastising them he had persuaded them to remove their dresses and under-things. It had taken only a few minutes. Now his captives trembled in misery like sallow, cornered prey.
‘Good little girls love lollies. Are you good little girls?’