Broken People (Excerpt)

Two

Dale struggled under Cole’s weight as he carried the heavier man up the stairs. His army-issued enhancements hadn’t finished the recovery cycle and, therefore, were not ready to be used. He’d rented an unlicensed taxi to take them around the old city to an entrance closer to his building. With the city center being a pedestrian area, he still had to carry the unconscious man a couple of blocks. Fortunately for both of them, the pouring rain had chased the street walkers inside, so there hadn’t been too many witnesses. By the time he arrived at the attic, Dale was covered in blood and the sickening sweet-smelling, clear liquid seeping off Cole’s burns.

He dumped his human cargo on the unmade bed and ran a hand over his face. Water trickled from his short hair down the back of his neck, wetting the part of his shirt the jacket had managed to protect. Now what? He needed Cole to be awake and able to use his hands, or the entire operation would fall apart. If it did, there wouldn’t be another chance to do the job any time soon. Someone else would have to start from scratch, and if there was one thing Dale disliked most, it was failing. He’d invested too much to lose it all. So much work and so much hope wasted. Millions of peoples’ lives at stake. But maybe not everything was lost.

It was the main reason he hadn’t taken Cole straight to the hospital. Aside from the risk of having the police involved, none of the local hospitals could help with Cole’s problem. The required technology wasn’t available. Since the war had started in the east, communication with Japan had been cut, so spare parts weren’t delivered anymore. Prosthetics fell apart left and right, and few places remained where they could be fixed.

Cole’s soft moan set Dale into action. He grabbed a small leather box from the trunk and opened it. It took two seconds to fill the syringe with the contents of one of the small bottles and inject it. Cole went quiet again. The strong painkiller would keep him down until morning, but it wouldn’t heal him.

By the light coming in through the windows, Dale found his way across the attic and looked outside. He didn’t spot any suspicious activity in the street, but he picked up the infrared binoculars from the windowsill to double check. The food stands were closed at this hour, and most of the beggars had left, too. A patrol officer chatted with the working girl stationed outside the bar next door. It must be a slow night for both of them.

Something moved in a corner of the square. The little girl was still there, hidden under a pile of flattened cardboard boxes. At least the rain had let up, turning into a soft drizzle that promised to stop soon.

Dale’s eyes trailed to the heavily decorated building at the end of the street. The entire top floor glowed like a symphony of lights, but only the room with a balcony interested him—more accurately, the woman sitting and writing at the desk interested him. Tiny golden flashes surrounded her hands as they moved over the papers. There was his solution.

It took guts to approach the Golden Lady, but it was worth the risk if he could convince her to help him. If he couldn’t … well, there were other ways. Decision made, Dale towel dried most of the water from his hair and changed his jacket. He moved the guns to the new one and hid a blade in his boot. He didn’t expect a need to use them, but one could never be sure in this line of work.

After checking on Cole one last time, he left the building. The cold October air hit him hard, making him shudder. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Dale headed towards the rag bundle hiding behind the steps.

A pair of eyes set too close together fixed on him, watching his every move.

When only one meter separated them, he bent his knees to get to her level. The little girl scrambled back and pressed herself against the wall, ready to bolt. He wouldn’t have been surprised to hear her growl. She sat there, her bottom lip trembling while she stared at him, eyes wide.

Dale pulled his right hand out of his pocket and held it out, palm open.

The girl yelped at the sight of the shiny coins and scrambled forward, rushing to cover them with her good hand. Then she glanced up and down the street to see if anyone had noticed the small fortune.

“There will be more for you if you take me to see the Golden Lady,” Dale said in a whisper.

The inquisitive glare shifted from him to the balcony, and after a few seconds of struggle, greed won and the girl nodded for him to follow her.