The Rift - Howard Chris. Страница 8

The skies had cleared some, but the low western sun was about to sink into clouds. Everything on the horizon was blank—empty and shadowed. But I kept turning the scope. I angled due east. Southeast. And then, on the far edge of the world, I saw a smattering of small black points, static and sticking out of the water.

And what was that looming behind them?

I pulled my face off the scope. Jammed it back on again. I twisted at the focus wheel until I could see. The black points were dotted in a clump across the horizon—rocks, maybe—but behind them was a smear of brown and gray and little pieces of white, and hell, yes, that was dirt and snow I was seeing. I almost yelled down into the cockpit that we’d found land, at last. But I figured I should keep on with my scanning.

And as I steered my sights south, I spotted the fleet of boats that was coming our way.

CHAPTER SIX

Even in the dim light, the boats sparkled against the sky and chopped up the water, as if they were shattering some vast sheet of glass. They were far off—took my eye from the scope, and I could see nothing but the pale bend of the earth. But the boats were heading right for us, there was no doubt about that.

I pressed up at the scope again. In the middle of the fleet, the biggest boat was darker in color, and seemed to be out ahead of the rest. I pictured Harvest on that boat, leading the charge, and I imagined him on its bow, his scarred face pressed at a scope like my scope. His eyes cheating the distance. Hell, perhaps we were staring straight at one another, as if to see who might flinch first.

I climbed down into the cockpit and glanced out the window. Down on the deck, the survivors stood stone-faced and silent, guns squeezed in their fists as Alpha marched between them, going over how to load up and aim the weapons, and making a big deal out of how few bullets we had left.

“So you wait till the shot’s for the taking,” I heard her say as I slid down the ladder. “But don’t wait a moment too long.”

The sun had turned the sky to ash and embers, and it was getting colder by the second as I pushed through the crowd and found Crow at the bow.

Kade was there with him. Not long ago, the punk had a knife at Crow’s throat, but here we were all partnered up. Too many enemies already, I reminded myself. No room on the list for new ones.

Not yet, anyway.

“Five boats,” I said, coming up to the railing and pointing south. “Each one probably bigger than this one. And we’re heading straight for them.”

“Then it’s a good thing the girl makes a good general.” Kade nodded over at Alpha. “A fine-looking one, too.”

“Shouldn’t you be doing something useful?” I said, burning up when I saw the way he was staring at her.

“I’ve been searching for someone to work on the boat, if you must know. Trying to find someone who might know how to power that tank up, too.”

“Out of this bunch?” Crow muttered.

“Hard to tell where people have been. Or what they can do. I counted one Soljah, for starters.” Kade glanced up at the scar burned on the back of Crow’s neck. Then he turned to me. “Oh, yeah, I hear we have a tree builder, too. That should come in handy.”

“And what did you used to do?”

“I was a scholar. A poet. A thief and a fighter.”

“Ever work with mechanics?”

“And get my hand dirty? No, thanks. But I found a woman who used to work with the Salvage Guild. She’s down there now, cracking open the steering shaft. Trying to snap off the automatics, move out the rudders. Said she used to work the Heaps, before she got taken.”

I might have been impressed, if I’d believed the Heaps existed. Never seemed to me like the Salvage Guild would keep all their best stuff off-limits, though. Their whole business was based on scavenging up old machines and gadgets, fixing them, then trading them for water, corn, old world Benjamins, even slave labor. So why would they keep their finest prizes all hidden away?

“If she gets the steering working, point us southeast,” I said. “I saw land through the scope.”

“And there was me thinking you’d just get in the way.”

“You know this man? Harvest?” I asked, trying to ignore Kade’s needling.

“I know of him.” His green eyes turned squinty as the wind cut cruel. “Man who calls himself king.”

“We should get folk inside,” Alpha said, joining us. “Before they all freeze to death. They’re as ready for battle as they’re gonna get.”

She shoved a pistol into my hand, then held one up to Crow.

“No,” he said. “Give mine to the redhead.”

“I know what you’re thinking.” Kade flashed his big smile at Alpha, seeing her hesitate to hand him the gun. “But I suggest you let me earn your trust.”

He grinned even bigger once she’d handed the gun over, then he spun it around on his finger in a way that said he knew how to shoot pretty good.

“Nice work, getting them ready,” he said, nodding at the rabble Alpha had lined up on the deck. “I’m taking it you’ve seen some action.”

“I’ve seen plenty.” Alpha put her hand on Crow’s back, trying to make him quit wobbling. “We all have.”

“There comes a time when plenty’s too much.” Kade was staring at Crow when he said it, but Crow’s gaze was stuck on the horizon, watching the end of day and the beginnings of night.

“Where’s Miss Zee?” Crow asked.

“Ah, yes. Her.” Kade frowned. “Been meaning to tell you. We have another problem below deck.”

I hadn’t realized how many folk were still down in the hull. They were hunkered together at the far end, forming a scruffy circle around the tank, and one woman was singing a song about redemption and the blood of Zion, so I could tell she was Rasta. I mean, you couldn’t tell by looking at her, since GenTech had shaved off her dreadlocks, and she was dressed all in purple, not in red, gold and green. Most of the others were kneeling and praying, their hands drumming slow on the floor, and it didn’t seem like these folk were getting ready for battle. Sounded more like they were getting ready to sleep.

“We should find guns for these people,” I said to Kade.

“Guns aren’t the problem.” He pointed through the crowd. “She is.”

Zee was stood next to the tank, in the center of everything. The panel on the steel box was still hanging open, and the lights still flashed inside the glass, and I’d no doubt those numbers were still blinking down, too.

“They want to surrender,” said Kade. “Her most of all.”

“I’ll talk some sense into her. You wait here.”

I worked my way into the middle of the strugglers, joining Zee in the space these folk had left around their steel-box shrine.

“You got it hooked up,” I said quietly, when I saw she’d wired the tank’s control pad back in.

“Didn’t do any good.” Zee pulled her long hair back with her hand.

“Had a feeling. But I heard someone might be able to charge it back up.”

“No luck so far,” she said. “I feel like we’re losing him.”

“Him?”

“You know what I mean.”

A woman shoved past us, huddling up at the tank to press her dirty palms on the glass, then smacking her wet lips at the steel.

“Give us a second,” Zee said to some of the others hovering around, and they pushed away, giving me and her a little breathing room.

“It’s Harvest,” I whispered. “He’s coming for the trees.”

“Harvest?” She kept her voice low, as if she didn’t want to disturb the singing none, but her eyes were wide, and she was biting her lip.