Fugitive: A Space Opera: Book Five of The Shadow Order Page 8

  The swordsman hit the ground hard and the two kids ran to be with the others. Seb leaned down and pulled its sword from its unconscious hand. When he cut the weapon through the air, it felt sharp enough to slice through the salt on the wind.

  The blade still in his hand, Seb turned to look back at the creatures guarding either ship. First he looked at the sword wielder’s friends, and then he looked at the two beasts with the semi-automatic rifles. He raised his eyebrows at each group, inviting them to step forwards.

  None of them took the offer.

  While pointing the purple blade down at the unconscious beast, Seb said, “I don’t know what he thought to do with those children, but they’re going to be reunited with their families. When he comes to, make sure he knows I spared his head. But if he even thinks about trafficking, especially children, I’ll be back for it.”

  Other than the wind, Seb heard nothing, so he looked at the unconscious beast’s friends. “Okay?”

  The creatures nodded.

  Then to the two with blasters. “That goes for you too.”

  They also nodded.

  The sword’s handle had a small button on the grip. Seb pressed it and the blade vanished. He then slipped the weapon into his pocket.

  Seb walked towards the docks, stepping out of the alleyway into the harsh wind again. The skin around his lips and eyes stung worse than ever. The sooner he got away from Aloo, the better.

  CHAPTER 18

  “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven,” Seb said as he did another head count and set off again. Now they had an expanse of concrete between them and the chain-link fence sectioning off Buster’s warehouse; hopefully none of them would go astray.

  Where Seb had struggled against the battering from the wind, he glanced behind to see the children had lined up in single file behind him. And he couldn’t begrudge them using him as a barrier against the elements. The assault ran so hard into him, it would probably lift the kids off their feet if they tried to brave it on their own.

  Only a fifty-metre walk at the most, but by the time Seb reached the gate in the chain-link fence, the skin on his face had pulled so taut it felt like it could crack.

  A nine-foot-tall mandulu with a swollen face appeared when they got closer. It wore a blaster on a thong across its chest, just like it had the last time Seb saw it. It glared harder at him than before, almost as if it had been plotting its revenge for the beating he’d given it.

  The creature looked like it wouldn’t say anything, so Seb shrugged. “Buster said to come back in three hours.”

  The mandulu paused for a few seconds, its chest rising and falling with its heavy breaths. “You’re early.”

  Seb shrugged again. Ten minutes early at the most, he didn’t reply because he couldn’t be bothered with the argument.

  A snort of air from its fat snout, the mandulu waited for a good minute before finally opening the gate, letting Seb and the little ones in.

  Just before Seb rounded the corner to enter the warehouse, he stopped and raised a halting hand at the kids. Seven small faces looked up at him. “You need to wait here while I go and see Buster. I need to warn him what’s about to enter his life before he sees it.” A look at the mandulu on the gate, he saw it still staring back at him. Although it hated him, he could see it wouldn’t harm the kids. As one of Buster’s guards, it probably knew how to handle them much better than Seb did.

  Seb looked back at the children. None of them spoke. Hopefully all seven would remain where they were.

  When he entered the warehouse, Seb flinched at the sight. Good job he hadn’t brought the children with him. A scene similar to the one he’d encountered the first time he’d visited—Buster, six mandulus, and one shady-looking character wrapped in chains all stood over the hole in the warehouse’s ground.

  Buster looked up at Seb, flashed him a reptilian smile—his eyes cold, his teeth wonky—and then he pushed the chained creature into the water with a splash. He wiped his hands, his laugh ringing out through the warehouse. “I should have a new tag line for my business: Cleaning up the galaxy one slaver at a time. Maybe I’ll get some stationery made up, what do you think?”

  Seb nodded at the pit the slaver had just been dropped into. “You might have to make a new hole. Many more bodies in that one and the pile of corpses will reach the surface.”

  The same crooked smile remained before Buster said, “You’re early.”

  Owsk had seemed like a stand-up kind of being. He wouldn’t trust Buster if he couldn’t be trusted. But now Seb had to hand children over to the creature, he had to question the decision. What would he do with them? What if he couldn’t get them back to their parents? But what else could he do? Not like he could take them with him. And Owsk trusted him. “I found a bunch of slaves while I was out.”

  Buster’s frame sank and his wonky smile fell.

  “Seven of them. Children.” If only it were eight. Seb pulled in a deep breath to settle his emotions.

  A tilt of his head to one side, but Buster still didn’t reply.

  “I couldn’t leave them.”

  This time Buster looked past Seb at the entrance of the warehouse. “Where are they?”

  “Kids,” Seb called out and clapped his hands to get their attention.

  The small blue hairy one led the way. A line of tiny beings with wide and fearful eyes followed her. Even Buster softened at their appearance.

  It took a few seconds before Buster looked away again and called to one of the mandulus. “Take them into holding. Feed them, get them washed up, and find out where the hell they’re all from. We need to get them back home.”

  “Think of the fees,” Seb said with a shrug. “It’s all credits, right?”

  Buster cocked an eyebrow at him and spoke with a slow and cold voice. “Right.”

  Although Buster didn’t invite him, when he walked towards his decrepit office, Seb followed.

  The second Seb entered the room, he looked at the metal frame he’d been tied to. A once white, now yellowed, sheet had been draped over it, hiding both it and the bloodstained floor surrounding it. Should he really be handing over vulnerable children to this creature?

  After Seb had closed the door behind himself, he opened his mouth to speak. But before he could get his words out, something knocked from outside.

  “Come in,” Buster yelled.

  The face of a tall and skinny red creature poked its head into the room. Its eyes were the colour of cocoa and sat on opposite sides of its blade-shaped head. It looked like it belonged in the sea. It stared at Seb and Seb stared back.

  The creature entered the room and closed the door behind it. To see it in its tall and skinny glory showed just how impoverished it was. No meat on its bones, its clothes were filthy and torn to shreds. It gripped an envelope in its long hands, the cream paper as mucky as everything else to do with it.

  The smell of dirt walked past Seb with the creature. It stopped in front of Buster. “I’ve come to deliver the first payment for returning Alicia to us. Thank you again, sir, we’re forever in your debt.”

  Although Buster wore a permanent scowl, which he levelled on the wretched thing in front of him, he said, “Keep it.”

  Both Buster’s tone and demeanour suggested hostility, so it took Seb a few seconds before he said, “Huh?”

  An awkward silence followed as the other two stared at Seb. The red being then turned back to Buster. “I don’t understand.”

  “Keep it. You need the credits. I can’t take them from you. Tell you what, I’ll make you a deal. If you ever come into a fortune, remember your debt. Otherwise, forget about it. I’ve just wiped your slate clean.”

  The red creature didn’t reply, its long mouth falling open as it twisted its grip around the envelope.

  “Oh, one more thing,” Buster said.

  It had seemed too good to be true. Seb’s stomach twisted in anticipation of Buster’s imminent act of cruelty.

  “Don’t tell anyone I
’ve not made you pay. I don’t want the galaxy and their neighbours thinking I’m a soft touch. I have to make a living, after all.” Before the creature could respond, Buster pointed at it. “If I find out that you’ve told anyone, I’ll expect every penny of the fee, okay?”

  The red creature looked no less scared of Buster now than when he’d entered. While bending over as if halfway through a bow, he backed out of the room, repeating the words, “Thank you.”

  When the door closed, Seb looked at it for a second. He then looked at Buster, who scowled at him. No wonder his office looked like crap. If he never collected, he probably didn’t have the credits he should in his line of work.

  What small break there had been in Buster’s saltiness returned and he damn near spat his words at Seb. “I only charge those who can afford it.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, so few beings can afford it.” The scowl returned. “Let’s hope one of those little brats you brought to me has a rich mummy and daddy; otherwise I’ll be coming to you for the fees.”

  Any doubt Seb had had about bringing the kids to Buster suddenly vanished. They’d all get to where they needed to go. “So how did you get on with the parasite I brought to you?”

  While glancing at his nails, Buster shrugged. “I need longer.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s pretty simple, isn’t it? I need longer.” Although Seb opened his mouth to reply, Buster said, “The parasite has been genetically manufactured.”

  “And?”

  He fixed Seb with a yellow glare. “What that means is it comes from a lab. Therefore, it’s much harder to trace who both made and then, subsequently, who bought it. It could have come from one of many farms that create that kind of crap. On top of that, I have to find a way to get access to their confidential files on who purchased it. When they sell a species to someone, they don’t want that thing being tracked back to them or the purchasers. Their clients could be using the creatures for organic weapons.”

  “Which nine times out of ten, they probably are,” Seb said. “So you won’t be able to trace it?”

  “I didn’t say that. Just that I need longer.” Buster pulled open one of his desk drawers and fished out a satellite phone. “Here,” he said as he held it in Seb’s direction.

  Seb took the large device and looked at it for a few seconds. So large he couldn’t wrap his hand all the way around it. It looked old, like most of Buster’s equipment. “I’ve seen bricks smaller than this.”

  A raised eyebrow, Buster said, “I’ll call you when I have more information. Just keep your head down so Moses doesn’t find you.”

  “What do you know about Moses?”

  “This is Aloo. Moses runs the place. I know he’s just put out the word that he wants you. Dead or alive. I’m not sure it’s public knowledge yet, but it will be soon. I know he’s not someone to be crossed. I know he’ll shut me down, wrap me in chains, and throw me into the sea if he hears I’m helping you.”

  “Yet you still want to help me?”

  Another shrug, Buster stared at his nails again, faking nonchalance. “I know what Moses is like. If you have reason to believe someone has wiped out a colony with the parasite and that he’s gaining from it, I’m inclined to believe you. From what I’ve seen, the world would be a better place with that shark gone.”

  “So how long do I have to lie low for?”

  “Three to five days. Maybe a week.”

  “A week? I won’t last a week on Aloo.”

  “The information isn’t going to be easy to find.”

  Although Seb wanted to argue, what could he say? Buster had gone well beyond the favour he owed Owsk. “Where do you suggest I go?”

  “Not my problem.”

  “I’m not saying it is. I was just looking for some advice.”

  “The sewers are always a good place to hide.”

  The suggestion deflated Seb. No way could he spend three days down there. And if it took a week … “Okay,” he finally said. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’ll be waiting for your call.”

  Buster had stared at his nails for most of the conversation. When he looked up, the slightest crack of compassion lifted his stony face. “Good luck, Seb. Stay safe and stay hidden.”

  Seb nodded and walked out of his office. Remaining safe and remaining hidden were easier said than done for a human on Aloo. Especially a human wanted by Moses.

  CHAPTER 19

  No better existence than a rat, Seb sat in the darkness of Aloo’s sewers, hunched over and motionless save for his slow breaths. The festering stink around him had permeated his psyche and had delved deep into his aching joints. He hadn’t moved for hours and didn’t plan on it any time soon.

  At least three days. Three days to a week according to Buster. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Who was Seb kidding? It would be awful. But could he tolerate it?

  Once he’d climbed down into the sewers, Seb had found an underground plaza like the ones used by the slavers. That was where he chose to wait, sitting on the cold and damp ground. He hadn’t moved since. The muggy air had left a layer of moisture on his face. Unlike the blood mist, he didn’t bother to wipe it off.

  With one liberated laser sword in his pocket and his blaster stuffed down the back of his trousers, Seb held onto the brick of a phone Buster had given him. For at least two of the three hours he’d been down there for, he stared at the device, willing it to ring.

  Seb had zero desire to move. A good job, because he might not have heard the sound otherwise. Even without his own motion, the roar of rushing water and loud drips from leaky pipes almost hid it. Almost. But when he heard the tock of a foot against one of the many ladder rungs, he gasped. The sound of his surprise rushed away from him into the darkness. Had he just given up his advantage?

  When Seb stood up, he wanted to groan from the effort, but he kept it in this time. His muscles already hurt before he’d climbed down into the damp underworld. Too much action and not enough rest. Thanks to his time in the sewers, his joints now ached too. The heavy, chilly air ran into the cartilage in his hips, his elbows, his knees …

  Seb did his best to tune out the sound of the rushing river of shit. The loudest noise down there by far. He strained his ears and heard it again. Tock. It hadn’t been his imagination. Foot against metal. Something was coming down into the sewers, and they were close.

  In his present location in the relative open of the sewers, Seb would be found straight away. More appealing than the dark walkways in the tunnels, but an awful place if he wanted to remain unseen. They’d take him back to Moses and he’d never learn where the parasites came from.

  After Seb had pushed himself to his feet and taken a few laboured steps, he loosened up a little and found his stride. The width of the rivers of shit were consistently large. Too large to leap across except for in the open spaces like the one he was currently in. In each corner, the gap tightened, so he ran for one, jumped over to the walkway on the other side, and vanished around a dark corner in the opposite direction from the sound.

  As much as Seb would have liked to make a stealthy escape, the slap of his feet against the damp ground called through the underground network of tunnels. Another noise for his stalker to follow.

  Because he’d relinquished his chance to be quiet, Seb gave up the pretence and sped up.

  Seb heard his pursuer do the same, the slap of feet chasing after him.

  A faceless foe—fast and closing down on him—threatened to rob Seb of his resolve. In his mind, he saw a monster with a large mouth and sharp fangs. A minotaur in Aloo’s labyrinthine underground tunnels.

  The weak lights did little to show Seb the way. He saw the right-angled left turn too late. Although he tried to take it, the damp ground didn’t give him the grip he needed. His feet slipped from beneath him. His world shifted into slow motion as he slammed down on the wet concrete. The impact jabbed a hot poker into his left hip. It balled in his stomach as a need to vomit.

 
Unable to control his pain, Seb rolled on the ground, cradling where he’d hurt himself. His legs hung out over the river, but not far enough for there to be a chance of him falling in.

  The light pad of feet on Seb’s tail pulled him from his agony. He pressed his hand against the cold and damp wall to make it easier to stand up. The pain in his hip ratcheted up when he put pressure on it, but he had to keep going. A clenched jaw and heavy breaths, he pushed through it and took off again into the darkness. No way would he be beaten down here. Moses didn’t deserve the satisfaction.

  More alert after his fall, Seb saw the next bend this time and sailed around it. He moved with a limp, and the steps behind him were clearly getting closer. Then he found a ladder.

  The same damp and rusty rungs he’d seen on every other ladder, Seb grabbed on and pulled himself up.

  The sound of his own feet against the metal paled in comparison to the running footsteps closing in on him. To climb hurt his hip more than running. His heart hammered. His lungs tightened. Sweat turned his palms damp. But he kept going.

  At the top of the ladder—the footsteps closer than ever—Seb reached up and shoved the manhole cover aside. Metal scraped over concrete, ringing out for his pursuer to hear.

  Despite it being the middle of the day, the tight alleyway was dark with shadow, although not as dark as the sewers. Seb dragged himself out of the hole and fell onto the hard concrete ground. He then twisted around and slid the manhole cover back across, panting and shaking with exhaustion.

  Not only had the manhole cover been made from steel, but a metal ring had been implanted in the ground so it fitted back in perfectly. Seb clenched his fist as he stared at it, got up onto his knees, and yelled as he drove a punch against the edge of the hole. It bent the steel ring surrounding the cover, pushing it slightly over the protective disc. Another punch on the opposite side yielded the same result. Two more punches left it with a distortion on each compass point.