Corros' camp was quiet when dawn broke. None of them heard the advancing convoy of Jeeps and men on foot. There were no men at the gates, no guns in the towers.
'Hold here.' Alex said to his Tulaese driver, Demarco, before he got out of the Jeep. His boots hit dry earth so that a cloud of it trailed him up to the gate, where he stood alone.
'Corros!' He cried at the top of his lungs. 'Come out and face me!'
His voice rolled along the valley and back, giving no answer but an echo.
'CORROS!' He yelled again. His men were silent, watching and waiting. 'COME AND ANSWER TO ME!'
No answer again. He took a step toward the gates. The bullet that he expected, and perhaps wanted, still did not come.
As he drew breath again the gates creaked open, slowly, painfully. On the other side was not Corros, but his host, all of them, traipsing wearily to the centre of Alex's vision. They were beat up, broken, bruised and limping. Some were bleeding. Around their feet were dead men, and women.
'WHERE IS CORROS?' Alex demanded.
A man stepped forward. His face was slashed and blackened, a smoking rifle in his hands. He was dragging something heavy behind him. When he passed the gates he pulled it in front of himself and tossed it away with monumental effort. The thing rolled over, and Alex saw the dead eyes and paled, bloodless face of Corros, the Conqueror. There were six bulletholes in the man's chest.
'We decided.' The man heaved through heavy lungs.
Alex lowered his gun, looking around at the rest of the army. There were far more on their feet than on the ground. The fight had been one-sided, and Corros had bet on the losing side.
Before Alex could say anything, the host parted. Down their middle came a man pulling a chain, and attached to the chain, in a line, naked, cut and whipped, were eighteen women. Each of them had roughly-shaven domes of heads, their skin branded and marked. The chain-gang was led, whimpering, sobbing and wailing, up to Alex. The chain was handed to him, and he took it.
'My name is Roas,' the man said to Alex, 'and I am your man now.'
YOU ARE READING
End of Women: Part Four
Science FictionBluenorth is in ruins. The Albuquerque Incident has left the organisation without a leader and the country without a President. The void left behind has become a breeding ground for radicals and factions of every possible denomination, and all the w...
