By the Feet of Men Read online

  ‘Because it isn’t your life on the line,’ said Cassady.

  ‘What else do you want me to say? Lemme give you both a piece of advice. If you join Brandt and that kid – and I hope to hell you do – be on your guard 24 hours a day. Watch out for each other. Help each other. And forget what you think you know about the south. It’s the Wild West down there.’

  ‘No different to up here, then,’ spat Cassady.

  ‘How long have you been driving that rig?’

  ‘Twenty years. More.’

  ‘Then you know what to expect. If you grew up in the Wild West, it ain’t wild. It’s home. You understand what I’m saying? Different game. Now listen: there’s some kind of civil war going on down in that place. Their comms guys are trying to keep it quiet, but it’s got everybody damn excited.’

  Cassady laughed without humour. ‘This just keeps getting better.’

  Ghazi ran his hand over the strip of hair on his head. The pessimism that came naturally to his partner wasn’t anywhere close to his thoughts. A civil war might just provide enough of a distraction to let them slip through without being detected. If the Koalition’s eyes were directed inward, it might not see them coming. It was a big if, but it was something.

  Cassady wasn’t done yet. ‘You say you hope to hell we go with them. Why do you want us on this convoy? Do you gain something from seeing us dead?’

  Sergei slammed his hands down on the table.

  Cassady stopped short.

  ‘I’ll tell you why, damn it. Before you turned up, Faustine was desperate. We had the other crews, but we needed a leader. Somebody’s gotta take that convoy into hell and they need to not flinch when they do it. The Silkworm boys are too inexperienced. You saw them. They got a lot to prove to themselves and they’ll gamble everything and they’ll end up dead.’

  ‘So what about Brandt? He’s been doing this twice as long as we have.’

  The giant pointed to the patch over his empty socket. ‘The old man’s got an eye on getting off the road for good. He and Renfield are burning fumes. You gotta be able to see that. They’re too cautious, too slow. Comes with age, and I ain’t got anything against that, except when it interferes with the work I gotta get done.’

  Ghazi shook his head. ‘I don’t agree with your assessment.’

  Sergei flashed him a look. ‘I wasn’t asking for your opinion.’

  ‘And Hearst?’ asked Cassady. ‘She’s tougher than any of us.’

  ‘She ain’t going, or didn’t you hear? Besides, she doesn’t look out for anybody except herself. No, we need the pair of you. You two can lead. You’ve done enough jobs for us and guided enough caravans in your time. The Strasbourg run, that manoeuvre outside Warsaw, it all counts. You got a reputation, you got a vehicle that can cut it, and you’ve been working together longer than any of the others. If you set the example, they’re gonna follow you. With you two at the helm, the rest of them might make it through the mountains. If you cut out now and go back to running parts and rations, I know they ain’t gonna get to La Talpa. They’ll try, but they’ll fail.’

  Ghazi said nothing. He understood what Sergei was saying. Delivering crates of expired food to a settlement clinging to life in the Bowl was one thing. This was something totally different, which is why somebody needed to take charge. Somebody good. He glanced at Warspite’s owner, who looked beyond Sergei with unfocused eyes. Which Cassady would be chewing the issue over now? Would it be the reliable man he’d driven with for years, the one who would bare his teeth and dig in and fight? Or would it be the Cassady of late, the one he didn’t want to admit he shared a cab with, the barely recognisable spectre who was all paranoia and quick temper?

  ‘One more thing,’ said Sergei. ‘We’ll give you a new battery for your rig. A third generation Milutin. It’s already here. Just need to hook it up.’

  Ghazi blinked in surprise. Faustine really was banking on Warspite leading the group. A battery – a good one at that – didn’t come cheap, not even for her. ‘And what about Lupo?’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘Is he going too?’

  ‘No. We had to pump him full of stims just to keep him on his feet. He’s in a bad way. Spilled the red stuff all the way to Prestige. He’s gonna stay here until he’s recovered. Can’t say how long that’s gonna be.’

  Cassady cleared his throat. His gaze was hard and focused again. The other two fell silent. ‘Me and Ghazi are going back to the Old Lady to talk. I’ll give you our answer in an hour.’

  With the deception no longer necessary, the Gaeans had taken the canvas screen down. Hunkered against the palisade wall and with the sunlight pooling on its metal surfaces, Warspite was a glistening beast, cornered but more dangerous than ever. Every scratch and every dent in the metal was a badge of honour. Ghazi was itching to get back out on the road. That was where things made sense. He opened the cab door on the passenger side and took out the half-carved wooden elephant, then sat with his back against one of the thick tyres. The scent of rubber and dry mud took some of the sting out of his uneasiness. He shaved the basswood with long, clean strokes. The carving was the closest he could come to bringing the animal back, for all that was worth. Neither he nor Cassady had been around to help destroy everything, but he’d inherited the guilt. And now, as the planet tried to rid itself of the poison, it was forcing them to the edge of the abyss, too. Sooner or later they would have to jump or fall in.

  At least, those had been the only two choices before this morning.

  Now a third option dangled before them on a string as delicate as gossamer. If they reached the scientists before the disease decimated them, they might be able to pull the world back from the brink with their machine. And then he could put the whittling knife away.

  Cassady took a long draught from one of the bota bags and leaned against the hood, his eyes on the palisade wall. Ghazi worked the blade into the hunk of wood and brushed shavings from his lap. Lice, the eternal companion of the Runners, ran over the back of his neck, and he caught one between his finger and thumb and squeezed. They hadn’t smoked their clothes for a month. The seams were packed with eggs.

  Cassady cleared his throat. ‘So.’ The declaration was dead on arrival.

  Ghazi blew dust out of a groove. ‘So what?’

  ‘You’re just going to sit there in silence until I say something?’

  He chose his words carefully. ‘It’s your truck. You tell me what you think.’

  Cassady wore an expression that was part resignation, part determination. ‘We have to do it.’

  ‘Have to?’

  ‘“I must create a system or be enslaved by another man’s”. Remember those words?’

  ‘Blake.’

  ‘Previous generations enslaved us. They made us like this, gave us a life where we kill each other for headlights and hubcaps. Maybe this is our chance to change that.’

  Ghazi ran a palm over his scalp. ‘Why not the other crews instead?’

  ‘They need us. We make the difference.’

  ‘Those are Sergei’s words.’

  ‘But he’s right.’

  ‘You think the machine exists?’

  Cassady sighed. ‘Do you?’

  ‘I want it to.’

  ‘Exactly.’ He paused for a moment. ‘But it’s not even about that. Not really. If I turn my back now, this thing will stay with me for the rest of my life. These past months have been hard.’ He spoke with hesitation, as though he wasn’t sure how much to reveal. ‘I haven’t been the same. I know you’ve noticed it even though I’ve tried to hide it. I’m slipping. It’s getting away from me. This, now, is the real test. Even if I fail, it’s better than not trying at all.’ He blew out his cheeks. ‘But we can make it. I know it.’

  He slapped at a mosquito on his neck. The detonations that had punctuated their thoughts all morning stopped suddenly, and snatches of conversation and commands carried over the tents.

  Ghazi turned the block of basswood over in h
is hand, his mind made up. ‘Do you really believe we can make it?’ His voice was no louder than the breeze.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘This is going to be rough. If we’re in, then we’re in all the way.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Do you? We’d be risking everything.’

  ‘I know.’ Cassady pushed himself away from the hood. His wiry frame tensed up and his voice became harder. ‘If you don’t trust me, you don’t have to go. I’ll arrange it with Sergei to get you to Prestige. No hard feelings. If I make it, I’ll come and find you on the way back.’

  Ghazi stood and brushed the dust from his trousers. The man liked his ultimatums. He held out a hand. ‘No need for any of that. I am with you. Same as always.’

  Cassady returned the grip. ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ A faint smile showed on each man’s face.

  ‘We’d better start looking at that map. And Sergei needs to know.’

  ‘Not yet. First we tell the crews.’

  A few Gaeans stopped in their work to watch them as they walked with purpose between the tents. The hammer blows of the ANFO resumed. Ghazi winced. The noise would be heard for kilometres around. He hoped any groups in the area would be dissuaded by the stockade’s strong position on the plateau. Beside him, Cassady wiped the sweat from his lips and angled the peak of his cap lower over his eyes. He’d been unusually upfront about his fears, and Ghazi respected that. He wouldn’t leave the man to face his demons alone, not even if it meant his own death in the process. Perhaps that was the point anyway: to be prepared to sacrifice oneself in service of something greater. The higher understanding was on the horizon of his existence, and he had to close that distance. His connection with Cassady would help him do it.

  There was another reason, too. He was curious to see what lay beyond the mountains. There were three ways to get to the south, but threading the eye of the needle through the Alps was the only viable one for them. Cassady would never guide Warspite into the wastelands that had once been called France. Nobody knew how bad the radiation levels there were. Some towns managed to hang on, which proved it wasn’t all death and desolation, but it wasn’t worth the risk. Some of the younger or more foolish Runners didn’t care. They took the cargoes and laughed at the drivers who refused. But their smiling faces vanished from the watering holes much quicker than those who stuck to the safe areas. The third option was to use the network of trails that crisscrossed the centre of the continent like hardened veins, but it would take more time than Lupo’s people had before they bled out.

  Brandt was perched on the hood of Telamonian, watching a couple of boys trying to strike each other across the cheek without moving from the same spot. They crouched and twisted their bodies to avoid the blows from their opponent. The smaller of the two leaned back so far Ghazi was sure he’d lost his balance, but he sprang forward again and his hand crashed against the other boy’s face. The taller boy spun around and fell to his knees. The victor remained where he was, not celebrating. The loser dragged himself to his feet, his right cheek glowing red.

  ‘Taking a time out?’ asked Cassady.

  ‘Gladiatorial combat,’ grunted Brandt. ‘Free of charge.’

  ‘We’re coming with you.’

  Brandt jumped off the hood. Even he was dwarfed by the mammoth machine. He folded his arms across his chest.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Hearst?’

  ‘I’ll speak to her.’

  ‘What about the new boys?’

  ‘I’ll deal with them. I’m leading the convoy. Out on the road, I make the decisions. That’s the way it is. If they don’t like it, they’re out.’

  Brandt hocked a wad of phlegm into the dust. The chest hair poking out of the top of his vest glimmered with sweat.

  ‘What if you make a decision I don’t like?’

  Cassady’s voice was level. ‘You’ve got the experience, Brandt. I need your help. I’m not going to make any rash calls. You don’t like the way something sounds, you tell me and we’ll work it out. This is a team thing all the way. Otherwise we’ll get strung out and picked off one by one. You understand?’

  Brandt’s heavy eyebrows shifted. He smacked his lips and then chuckled. ‘Okay, Cassady. Good speech. You have a deal.’

  ‘Where’s Renfield?’

  ‘He’s gone to scrounge what he can from the crazies. We’ll be there for the briefing.’

  ‘Brandt?’ said Ghazi. He had to say something. ‘Is there going to be a problem between you and Victor?’

  ‘Not unless he makes one.’ Ghazi’s expression elicited another laugh from the old man. ‘Schlechter Witz. I’ve got no quarrel with him. But listen, those boys look hungry. They’re desperate. They signed up to this run before Lupo said anything about payment. You’d better watch out for that.’

  Ghazi accepted a stick of root from Cassady as the boxy truck came into sight. He usually abstained, but special circumstances called for special measures. He chewed the stick a few times to ease out the flesh and then pushed the wad under his top lip. A cool wind whistled through his skull.

  Victor’s head was in the engine when they reached the other side of the camp, but he straightened up to receive them. Tagawa crawled out from underneath the truck. Bones danced under their skin. Brandt had a point. Neither spoke as Cassady and Ghazi surveyed the pantech, a fully enclosed black metal shell sitting on four wheels.

  ‘You’re right about it being a bunker,’ muttered Cassady. Aside from the scratches and dents, the shell was smooth on all sides with no hand grips or footholds. The weapon loopholes along the sides and at the back were closed up tight. At the front, a set of spikes had been welded to the bumper, and a winch with a spool of high-tensile wire sat just above them. A silver symbol in Japanese script gleamed on the hood.

  ‘What does it say?’ asked Ghazi, nodding at the symbol.

  ‘Kaiko,’ replied Tagawa. ‘It means silkworm. The name spoke to me. Victor says I should cut my links to my forebears, but I believe it important to remember where one came from. Keeps one grounded.’

  Victor offered a short laugh. ‘Sure, stability. Just what a guy needs when he’s living out of a box on wheels.’

  ‘It’s an impressive one at least. Auto?’

  The boy nodded.

  ‘We’re here about the convoy,’ said Cassady.

  ‘Gonna come along for the ride?’ Victor flashed two rows of crooked grey teeth. Without meaning to, Ghazi recalled a starving man he’d once stumbled across in a yard belonging to an old farmhouse. He’d been stripping the flesh from the bodies of two men and singing to himself when Ghazi had fired an arrow into his chest to bring an end to the ugly scene. The man had been wearing a discoloured dental prosthesis. While Ghazi had stood over him, his mouth had been twisted open in death, silent laughter pouring out, mocking Ghazi for setting him free while he stayed behind to struggle on. The man still came to him in his dreams from time to time.

  ‘No,’ said Cassady. ‘I’m leading it.’

  Victor swiped at the hair plastered against his brow and scowled. ‘Who says?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘What if we don’t wanna follow you?’

  ‘Then you pack up your things and return to whatever backwater it is you came from,’ said Cassady. ‘I haven’t got time to play games. If you can’t get a handle on your ego, that’s fine. You won’t be joining us. Ask Sergei for some supplies before you leave. He’ll give them to you. You boys look hungry.’

  ‘We have endured leaner times than this,’ said Tagawa. The hollow cheeks made it look as though his face was cast in shadow.

  Cassady scratched at his chest, drawing attention to the knotted scars sewn into his skin. ‘Sure.’

  ‘This contract is nothing to us,’ said Victor slowly. ‘We can find plenty more in Prestige.’

  Cassady continued to scratch. He yawned, putting on the full show. ‘Right you are. Good luck, boys. See you out on the road some
time.’

  They left the berth. The stunned silence was quickly followed by a flurry of words in a foreign tongue between the two young Runners. Ghazi smiled. They had them. Sure enough, Victor’s drawl rang out in the heavy air. ‘Wait.’ They turned. ‘I know what you’re doing, Cassady. A damn fool kid could see it. You need us and I know you know it. But either way we accept your terms.’

  ‘Until the end of the line.’

  ‘Yeah, till then.’

  ‘Briefing’s at 1900. We leave at dawn. Be ready.’

  Victor threw Cassady a lazy salute. ‘Sure thing, boss.’

  Tagawa watched them until they were out of sight.

  ‘Two down,’ said Ghazi. He spat the root pulp onto the path and waved away the offer of another piece. He was already sweating with energy.

  ‘That kid’s going to be trouble,’ muttered Cassady.

  ‘We’ll keep him in check.’

  ‘I hate these dances.’

  ‘Only the ballet to go.’

  ‘I haven’t got a clue what I’ll say to her.’

  ‘Just make it quick. And make it convincing.’

  ‘Thanks. You’re a real help.’

  When they arrived at the berth, Hearst was throwing supplies into the back of her pantech. The red paint job burned in the sun. Katarina, standing beside her, clicked her fingers as she saw them approach. Hearst stopped what she was doing and turned her crumpled face towards the Runners.

  Katarina’s features were set. ‘Will you be leaving with us?’ Her hemp robe, which fell to just above her ankles, trembled in the breeze.

  ‘No,’ replied Ghazi.

  ‘So you’re joining the others.’

  ‘I’m leading them,’ said Cassady.

  Hearst snorted.

  ‘Why don’t you stick around for a while?’

  She leaned against the truck and spat on the floor.

  ‘And you, Katarina?’ asked Cassady, keeping his eyes on the younger woman.

  ‘Orion is not my vehicle. I do not make the decisions.’