Kal jerico sinners bount.., p.30
Kal Jerico: Sinner's Bounty, page 30
‘Not until Perdition is safe.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
STRATEGY SESSION
When they stepped out of the warehouse, it was pretty clear that Zoon was the one in charge. The narrow lanes were packed with Cawdor, all of them looking for a fight. Zoon pushed himself erect, away from the Redemptionist who’d been helping him walk, and raised his hands.
‘Peace, brethren – the situation is resolved,’ he said, loudly. ‘Mercy is granted, and more guns have come to the Great Holy Army. Our crusade grows. Rejoice!’
The Cawdor cheered, warily, but with enthusiasm. Not all of them were from the same gang – some wore leather masks dyed crimson, while others wore cowls decorated with religious paraphernalia. Some were clad in scavenged enforcer armour, while others wore little more than their own mortified flesh. A variety of creeds, but all from the same wellspring, and Zoon went among them as a saint. He laid hands upon bowed heads, and spoke gently to the most savage of fanatics. They dipped their fingers in the bloody trail he left in his wake, and marked their skin and mouths with the sticky redness.
Kal watched in disgust as a masked hunchback dabbed a rag in Zoon’s blood and brought it to his lips, mumbling hosannas.
‘They love him,’ Clovik said. The Redemptionist had decided to stick close to Kal, likely not trusting him. Even so, he gave Wotan a wide berth, casting angry glares at the cyber-mastiff as it trotted by Kal’s side.
‘So I see,’ Kal said. ‘And how does he feel about it?’
Clovik didn’t reply.
Kal snorted and glanced at Yolanda. ‘Recognise any of them?’
‘A few,’ she said. ‘I see gangers from the Candlekin and the Brethren of Bones. They’re a long way from home.’
‘Many among the faithful answered Zoon’s call,’ Clovik said. ‘Here, at this place, we are the edge of the God-Emperor’s holy blade, held to the throat of darkness.’
‘Good to know,’ Kal said. ‘Who’s in charge? Besides Zoon, I mean?’
Clovik looked at him as if he were a fool.
Kal sighed. ‘Right. Of course. How silly of me.’ He spied Baertrum and fell back to join him. ‘We need to talk strategy,’ he said, ignoring the glares Baertrum’s two Goliath bodyguards gave him. Two of Korg’s, by the look of them. He intended to keep an eye on them.
Baertrum eyed him for a moment, and then nodded. ‘I suppose we must. Neither of us are military men, however.’
‘Grendlsen is – or was, if the stories are true.’ They both looked at the squat, who stumped along in the group’s wake, his hammer over his shoulder. ‘Grendl,’ Kal called out. ‘We need to come up with a plan.’
‘Leaving is a good plan,’ Grendlsen said.
‘A different plan. You know – a military sort of plan.’
‘And what makes you think I know anything about that?’
‘You served with the Vega Rams, right? The mercenary company?’
Grendlsen was silent for a moment. ‘I was a banner-jarl for the Rams, yes.’
‘A banner-jarl is a non-commissioned officer,’ Baertrum supplied.
Kal shot him an annoyed glance. ‘I know that.’
‘My apologies. I must have misread the poleaxed expression on your face.’
‘Shut up.’ Kal looked back at Grendlsen. ‘So you know something about strategy and tactics and sieges and such?’
Grendlsen stared at Kal for a moment, and then sighed. ‘We need a map. And someplace quiet.’ He looked around in obvious annoyance. ‘Preferably away from all these yattering loons.’
Kal nodded. He caught up with Zoon. ‘We have to come up with a plan,’ he said, shouting to be heard over the tumult. Zoon looked at him. He seemed stronger than he had before. ‘A plan,’ Kal said, again. ‘A strategy.’
‘What do you need?’ Zoon asked. His eyes were fever-bright behind his mask – pain-drugs, Kal suspected. Zoon was doped to the gills. It explained why he was still standing, despite the blood loss.
‘Maps. Food. Drink – Wildsnake, preferably. And someplace to discuss things. Away from the crowds. Your people are making some of the others nervous.’ Kal hiked a thumb at Gor. The beastman was surrounded by a phalanx of Cawdor, who were doing their best to keep the frenzied mob at bay. A ganger leaned close and spat on Gor’s cheek. In response, Gor snarled and drove the butt of his shotgun into the ganger’s face, dropping him. The others drew back at that, but not far. ‘Before anything unfortunate occurs,’ Kal added, watching as Gor kicked the injured man in the head.
Zoon nodded. ‘I see your point. Come.’
The procession began to break up as Zoon led them away from the waterfront and back into the settlement. The gangers had other duties. Klaxons were still sounding through the streets, and the crowds from before hadn’t thinned at all. Up on the slopes of the zone, where ductwork and forgotten shafts looked down on the spillage lake, lights flashed and the sound of distant guns boomed. Occasionally, an explosion would split the air, and all eyes would turn upwards, searching for the origin of the sound.
Zoon led them through the cramped streets to a towering fane set in the heart of the settlement. Made from fossilised wood and sump-blackened iron, it cast a dark shadow over nearby buildings. Cawdor in heavy furnace coats and masks made from blackened iron stood on guard. As one, they bowed to the Redemptionist, and stood aside so that Zoon could lead Kal and the others through the old-fashioned double doors and into the fane.
‘Perdition was founded by the Furnacemen – the first brave hivers to journey to these depths,’ Zoon said, his voice echoing through the antechamber of the fane. ‘They built this fane. Slag-collectors and waste-burners, they came looking for a place to call their own, where they could haul their own ore and burn their own refuse.’
The antechamber was a high room of iron walls and a ferrocrete floor. Stone saints loomed in alcoves, stern faces bowed in sombre meditation. Fuming censers hung from the roof beams and hundreds of lit candles had been set onto every available surface.
‘More joined them, of course. Such is the way of the depths… towns spring up around effluent runoff, trading posts sprawl in the cracks between levels and holesteads sprout like fungus in the junctions between domes. Where there is a will, life finds a way.’ Zoon shook his head. ‘And where there is life, sin follows.’
‘Ain’t that always the way,’ Yolanda said, eliciting a laugh from Grendlsen and the Goliaths. Zoon didn’t reply, as he led them through a reinforced hatch and into the central nave. Pews made from old gantries or salvaged benches lined the aisle, many of them occupied. Penitents – not gangers, but holesteaders – huddled in prayer. Men, women, children, all masked in some way, and all of them frightened.
A woman shrieked as Gor ducked beneath the hatch. Men rose, hands reaching for knives, their eyes wide with panic. But they stopped at the sight of Zoon. He raised his hands.
‘Rest easy, brothers and sisters. The God-Emperor sees and protects. Continue with your prayers, and look not upon the abomination.’ He turned and gestured. ‘Come. Hurry. The stairs. I’ll make sure we aren’t disturbed.’
The stairs proved to be at the rear of the altar dais, behind a glowering statue of Caul the Fallen, first pilgrim of the Red Redemption. Kal peered up at the statue’s masked visage as he started up, wondering if there really had been a Caul.
He’d heard the stories. Most people had. His nursemaid had told him all about the battles with the Dark Arbitrators of Spoilshadow, and the crusade into the Yearning Deeps. But he’d never thought of Caul as being real – he was just a name in a story, like Jaq Draco or the Vampire-King of Trazior.
Then, maybe one day, Kal Jerico would be a story as well. He smiled, rather enjoying the thought. Right up until Yolanda jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.
‘Stop grinning. You’re embarrassing me,’ she hissed.
As Kal and the others went up, Zoon gestured and several Cawdor took up positions at the base of the steps, guarding against any intrusion.
‘It must be nice to be in charge,’ Kal said. Zoon glanced back at him.
‘If I am, it is only by the will of the Emperor.’
‘Only I haven’t seen any gang bosses. What happened to them?’ Kal already knew the answer to that question – or suspected he did. If there had been anyone else in charge, they would have already shown up.
‘Dead,’ Zoon said.
‘All of them?’
‘No.’ Zoon paused. ‘But the rest… defer to me.’ He turned away. ‘The lay brethren look to me for reassurance. It is better for there to be but one voice, I think. Simpler. Thus, it is my honour and duty to lead Perdition through these troubling times.’
Kal hid a smile. As he’d thought. He wondered whether Perdition’s leaders had put up much of a fight. Perhaps they’d been all too willing to surrender their authority to Zoon.
They climbed the rest of the way in silence. At the top of the stairs, another chamber waited. Circular windows of reinforced plexglass dotted the walls, and the air stank of incense and melted fat from the candles set into alcoves.
Smaller than the nave, the chamber was mostly empty, save for a few scattered tables and rolls of abandoned bedding, as if someone had left in a hurry. Empty ammunition crates had been stacked along one wall, and a bloody pallet lay in a far corner.
‘This belonged to the Furnacemen, once,’ Zoon said. ‘They… gifted it to my congregation, upon our arrival.’ He grunted and sat heavily at the table, clutching his side. ‘We have made little use of it, however. Too much to do.’ He looked at Clovik. ‘Get the maps, brother.’
Clovik hesitated, and Zoon made an impatient gesture.
‘Time is a dwindling resource, brother. Maps – and a medi-kit. My sutures have popped.’ He took his hand away from his side and wiped the blood on the edge of the table.
‘How much blood can he have left in him?’ Scabbs muttered. Kal waved him to silence, and looked at the others. Besides Amanute, Gor and Yolanda, there was Baertrum’s lot – including a sneaky looking Cawdor named Goeth, and two bulky Goliaths who definitely belonged to Irontooth Korg’s bunch. He took a breath.
‘Right. We all know why we’re here. But somebody has to be in charge. So before we go any further, we vote.’ The others nodded and murmured agreement. It was an old venator tradition – the leaders of hunt-packs were always elected. It kept things from getting messy, if everyone agreed to follow one person’s orders right at the beginning.
‘What if we all vote for ourselves?’ Gor asked. Another old venator tradition, unfortunately – bounty hunters hated taking orders from other hunters. Despite that, Kal thought he had a fairly good shot – it had been his idea, after all. That counted for something.
‘Well, maybe don’t do that,’ he said. ‘But in the event of a deadlock, Zoon will be the tie-breaker.’
‘Why him?’ Baertrum demanded. ‘He’s the blasted quarry.’
Kal grinned. ‘Technically, he’s also our employer.’
Baertrum threw up his hands and took a seat. ‘Fine. Let’s get this farce over with. I nominate myself.’
‘I nominate Baertrum,’ Belladonna said. Kal nodded. No surprises there.
‘I nominate… Big Sledge,’ said the other Goliath, Horst. He made it sound like a question.
Big Sledge hit his smaller companion on the back of the head. ‘Idiot. He nominates the adjurator. So do I.’
Kal grinned. ‘Four for Baertrum. I nominate myself, obviously. Yolanda?’ He glanced at her. She frowned and shrugged.
‘Might as well. I nominate me.’
‘I’m shocked by your inevitable betrayal,’ Kal said, drily. ‘Scabbs?’
‘I mean…’ Scabbs began, scratching the back of his neck. Kal gestured impatiently.
‘Right, Scabbs votes for me. What about the rest of you?’
Gor shook his head. ‘Jerico,’ he rumbled.
‘Jerico,’ Grendlsen said. ‘This was his idea, seems only fair to let him take responsibility.’ He looked at Yar, who gestured. ‘Yar votes for – what, really?’ Yar nodded. Grendlsen sighed. ‘Yar votes for Yolanda.’
‘Ha!’ Yolanda said, punching the air.
‘Maybe I should change my vote,’ Gor said.
‘No changing votes, once they’re cast,’ Kal said, more sharply than he’d intended. ‘Four for me, four for Baertrum, and… two for Yolanda.’ He shook his head and looked at Amanute and the Cawdor, Goeth. ‘Well, what about you two?’
‘I abstain,’ Goeth said.
‘That’s not helpful,’ Kal said. ‘Amanute…?’
‘She’s not a bounty hunter,’ Baertrum said, quickly. ‘She doesn’t get a vote.’
Kal glared at him. ‘Who says she’s not a bounty hunter?’
‘Me,’ Belladonna said. She pointed to the Goliaths. ‘And them.’
Kal glanced at the others, seeking support, but didn’t find any. ‘Fine. So we have a tie.’ All eyes turned expectantly towards Zoon. The Redemptionist wasn’t paying attention. Instead, he was watching Amanute. And she, in her turn, was watching him.
Kal cleared his throat, and Zoon jolted slightly. ‘What?’ He shook his head. ‘Jerico. I made the arrangement with him, and I trust him to hold the rest of you to it.’
Kal smirked at Baertrum and bowed low. ‘Your confidence is appreciated. I shall try and live up to the great traditions of our forefathers–’
‘Stuff it, Jerico. Let’s get on with it,’ Grendlsen said. He slammed an ammo crate down beside the table and climbed up on it. ‘Day-cycle is burning.’
Clovik dropped a pile of schemata onto the table before kneeling to tend to Zoon. ‘The maps are old, mostly out of date,’ he said as he cracked open the medi-pack. ‘I doubt they’ll do you any good.’
‘There’s an old saying – information is second in value only to ammunition,’ Grendlsen said, unrolling one of the maps. Kal and the others grabbed chairs or leaned over the table. Knives flashed, pinning the various maps and schematics in place. A quick glance was enough to see the obvious.
‘We can’t hold the settlement,’ Kal said.
Grendlsen nodded. ‘Not without heavy weaponry.’
‘We have three functional stub-cannons, a dozen heavy flamers and at least one autocannon,’ Zoon protested. He hissed slightly, as Clovik repaired his sutures. ‘Maybe two, depending on what’s in those crates I brought.’
‘And how much ammunition? Even with what you stole?’ Grendlsen asked. Zoon fell silent. The squat grunted. ‘That’s what I thought. How many capable of bearing arms?’
‘Around sixty – seventy or so, if we press the wounded into service,’ Clovik said, without looking up from his task. ‘There are around three times that number of holesteaders, traders and pilgrims, but I wouldn’t trust most of them with a knife, let alone a gun.
Zoon shook his head. ‘Then why else did we claim those weapons, brother, save to arm the faithful so that they might defend themselves? If it comes to it, we can arm every man, woman and child within these walls.’
‘It will,’ Belladonna said. She leaned over a map of the hab-zone, and traced a line through several of the connecting tunnels. ‘These corridors are swarming with muties. More than I’ve ever seen in one place. They’re organised, and looking for a fight.’
‘And that’s the interesting thing, isn’t it?’ Kal said. He leaned back in his chair.
‘What is?’ Baertrum asked. ‘Pray share your scintillating insight, Jerico.’
‘It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?’ Kal looked around.
‘Muties don’t attack settlements,’ Gor interjected. When the others looked at him, the beastman shrugged. ‘Usually.’
‘Right. Exactly.’ Kal sat up. ‘We all know how muties think. If they’re doing something different? They think they have an edge.’
Yar Umbra knocked on the table. Grendlsen glanced at him and nodded. ‘Yar’s right. It’s like Belladonna said – they think they’ve got the numbers.’ The squat pulled out a cigar. Gor leaned forwards to light it for him, after lighting one of his own.
‘Which they do,’ Belladonna said.
Kal grinned. ‘So when there’s more of them than you, what do you do?’ Taking in the circle of blank looks, he sighed. ‘Come on, we’ve all been in this situation before… who here hasn’t been outnumbered at least once in their career? Yolanda?’
Yolanda smiled as she got what he was saying. ‘You take them out one at a time.’
Kal banged on the table and pointed at her. ‘Exactly!’ He looked around. ‘Get it?’
‘No,’ Baertrum said. He gestured with a cigarillo. ‘Elaborate, please.’
Gor chortled. ‘I get it. Divide and conquer.’ He scratched a claw across the table. ‘Cut them in half, lessen the weight of numbers.’
‘Doesn’t that imply that we’ll have to do the same with our own?’ Baertrum protested. ‘And we have precious few as it is.’
‘Not necessarily.’ Kal glanced at Zoon and tapped the map. ‘How many sump-boats are docked here, currently?’
Zoon cleared his throat and sat up. ‘Fewer than a dozen.’
‘How many of them are big enough to use for evacuation?’
‘We will not flee,’ Zoon said.
‘You’re not fleeing,’ Kal said. ‘But the muties need to think you are. Because there’s nothing a mutie likes more than frightened prey.’
‘That could work,’ Grendlsen said, nodding. ‘Put a few of us on the boats, we’ll make things interesting for them.’ Yar knocked on the table and gestured. Grendlsen clapped him on one skinny shoulder. ‘Good lad. Yar says he’ll go. And so will I.’
‘I’ll go as well,’ Yolanda said. Kal glanced at her.
‘You sure?’
