Mutant City Read online

  This book is for all the ‘freaks’ out there.

  You know who you are. SF

  Contents

  BEFORE

  The Farm

  THIRTEEN YEARS LATER

  Rush

  Melk

  Rush

  Silas

  Zander

  Rush

  Tia

  Brick

  Rush

  Zander

  Anya

  Rush

  Jax

  Rush

  Tia

  Silas

  Rush

  Tia

  Rush

  Tia

  Rush

  Anya

  Rush

  Zander

  Tia

  Melk

  Steeleye

  Rush

  Melk

  Rush

  Reunited

  Tia

  Silas

  Rush

  Melk

  Steeleye

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the author

  BEFORE

  The Farm

  The raiding party comprised only seven individuals: six mutants and the ‘Pure’ insider who’d planned the incursion. They hurried down the corridor that led to the research facility, stepping over the uniformed bodies of the guards that lay on the floor. The small canisters of powerful nerve gas they’d used to incapacitate those in charge of this place – pumping it in through the air-conditioning system – had worked better than any of them had expected, and they now stood before a huge steel door, sweating behind their awkward gas masks.

  The man closest to the door slid a key card into a small metal box on the wall. When he tapped in today’s security code and held his thumb over the scanner, he was rewarded with the noise of automated locks disengaging.

  The seven stepped through this door, squeezing into a decontamination chamber on the other side. From here, they were able to pass through a second door and enter the top-secret facility beyond.

  The air supply in the lab came from a separate system to that in the rest of the facility, and they could finally remove their masks and look around them properly. Steel benches crammed with high-tech equipment lined the walls, but their eyes were immediately drawn to the huge glass tank that took up most of the centre of the room. Inside, suspended in a murky yellow liquid to keep it preserved, were the remains of a grotesque humanoid figure. Long dead now, it was almost unrecognisable as a man; its limbs and body were bent and contorted, as if they had been incorrectly attached by some sick and twisted creator. A huge, deformed head with large bulging eyes stared sightlessly back at them through the glass.

  ‘What is that thing?’ the woman named Maw asked.

  ‘The mutant they found in the Blacklands,’ Silas answered. As the insider responsible for getting them all into this place, he had seen the preserving tank many times. Nonetheless, he was still horrified by it. ‘That poor, unfortunate wretch is the reason we’re all here today.’

  A noise from behind a door set into the far wall silenced them. It was the unmistakable sound of a small child crying out.

  ‘Let’s get a move on,’ said Silas. ‘We don’t have much time before the effect of the gas wears off.’

  Another keypad, another door. This time, as it swung open, they halted on the threshold to take in what lay beyond.

  The nursery was a harshly lit, featureless room containing three aluminium cots and, at the far end, two beds. Beside these were small wheeled trolleys, vials, syringes and other medical paraphernalia neatly arranged on each one. There were two cameras mounted in opposite corners of the room. Motion-activated, they now swung towards the door and the intruders, the whine of their servo-motors just recognisable over the hum of the air-con. The men who usually monitored the images from these cameras would not be raising any alarms. Like the rest of the workers on the facility, they were out cold.

  The children, none of whom was asleep despite the late hour, stared back at the strangers, almost as if they had been expecting them. There were three in the cots, all around two years old, maybe a little more. The other two were older. One, an albino, appeared to be about six; the other was perhaps four years older. Unlike the toddlers, these two were secured into their beds by leather straps around their wrists and ankles. Silas hurried over to one of these beds, motioning Maw towards the other. He quickly undid the restraints and helped the albino boy to stand up. Already tall and lanky for his age, the young mutant’s skin was the colour of milk. He looked back at the man through eyes of the palest blue imaginable.

  ‘Jax,’ the man said, nodding at the youngster.

  ‘I knew you could do it, Silas,’ the boy replied. He spoke in a clipped and calm manner that seemed at odds with his age and the situation.

  Jax stepped over to the nearest cot, reaching inside to lift the little girl out and balancing her on his hip so he might stare into her face for a moment. ‘They’ve come for us, Anya. They’ve come for us all.’ As he looked at her, tears welled up in his eyes and slid down his pale cheeks. As if in response to this show of emotion, the infant in his arms transformed into a spitting-and-hissing wild thing; a furless cat-like creature that pulled back its lips to bare its teeth at the newcomers.

  ‘No, Anya. These are our friends.’

  It was the gentlest of remonstrations, but the animal quickly became a girl again, burying her face into his chest as if embarrassed by her outburst.

  The young albino shrugged apologetically. ‘They have already been through so much, and they’re only babies.’ He looked about him at the other children, shaking his head at what he saw. ‘And the men who ran this place called us monsters.’

  ‘Where are the scientists?’ Silas asked.

  Jax gave him a sly grin. ‘Those metal helmets they wore? The ones to keep me from using my powers on them? Well, it seems as if they went missing just about the time that the alarm sounded. The scientists had a terrifying vision. Apparently they were under the impression that a giant snake-headed monster had broken into this facility. They fled via the emergency escape tunnel.’

  ‘A snake-headed monster?’

  The pale child’s grin intensified, and he shrugged again.

  The woman, Maw, having undone the eldest boy’s restraints, knelt by his side, her hand resting on his arm. The boy lay in the bed watching everything going on around him. If Jax was tall for his age, this youngster was huge for his. A great blockhead stared back at his rescuer, a hint of a smile touching the corners of his mouth. ‘Brick!’ he said in a loud voice.

  Maw reached out to flatten some stray hairs that stood up on the boy’s head. In response, the youngster reached up and took her hand in his, pressing it to his face. ‘Brick,’ the boy said again.

  ‘Why does he keep saying that?’ she asked, without turning away from the child.

  ‘Brick was one of the first experiments,’ Silas explained. ‘His mental faculties were impaired by the things they did to him. One of the guards said he was “as thick as a brick”.’ He shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning down at the memory. ‘He would torment the boy over and over with that expression, until eventually the name stuck.’

  ‘How could such cruelty be allowed?’

  The look Jax gave her suggested the guards’ taunts were the least of it.

  ‘You’ve already met Anya,’ Silas said, gesturing towards the girl in Jax’s arms. He nodded to the other cots. ‘The little boy is called Rush. The girl next to him is Flea.’

  ‘Who named them?’ Maw asked.

  ‘I did,’ Jax said. ‘Before that, they were simply known by their case numbers. Many of the scientists still insist on referring to us in that way. I suppose they’re frightened of h
umanising us.’

  ‘So who named you?’

  He looked at the man by his side and smiled warmly. ‘Silas did.’

  There was a moment while the members of the raiding party took this in.

  One of them, a man called Josuf, reached inside Rush’s cot and lifted him into his arms. ‘They’re just kids. What kind of person builds a place like this?’

  Silas turned to him. ‘As Jax said – a monster. A monster who likes to pretend he’s a god.’

  ‘A madman.’

  ‘That too.’

  ‘There’s no place anywhere, not even on a messed-up planet like Scorched Earth, for a horror factory like this one.’

  ‘Then it’s a good job we’re here, isn’t it?’ Silas said. ‘Come on, we’ve got to get out of here. We still have a lot to do tonight. Take the children back to the safe house where we rendezvoused. I’ll join you there as soon as I’m finished.’

  Silas watched the children and their new carers depart until only he, Jax and the woman who was to escort the boy to safety were left. When she reached out to take his hand, Jax shook his head. ‘I’ll stay and help Silas,’ he said.

  ‘That’s not what we agreed,’ Silas said.

  ‘I’m not going without you.’ Again it was hard to reconcile the boy’s tender age with the way he spoke and acted.

  The woman hesitated, not knowing what to do for the best.

  After a few moments, Silas sighed. ‘Let him stay,’ he said to her. ‘Go with the others. I’ll bring Jax.’

  The woman gone, Silas and Jax stood in that terrible place, looking about them in silence. Eventually Silas turned to the albino boy. ‘You’re sure you can wipe their memories?’ he asked.

  ‘Brick will be difficult, if not impossible. He’s older and things are . . . complicated inside his head. But he won’t give Maw too many problems.’

  ‘And the little ones?’

  Jax nodded. ‘Trust me – I’ll erase every last trace of this place from their minds. They’ll be able to live normal lives.’

  ‘Normal?’

  ‘As normal as possible.’

  ‘What about their powers?’

  ‘Separating them will help. The powers we have are enhanced when the five of us are together. In addition, I should be able to suppress the areas of their minds associated with their gifts. That will help for their early years, but as they get older, there’s a good chance those “bizarre abilities” will re-emerge. It’s in all of our natures to be what we really are, Silas. You’ll need to keep a close eye on them, even if they are sent away.’

  ‘And what about you?’

  ‘I can’t exactly wipe my own memory, can I?’

  ‘I guess not.’

  There was another pause before Jax said, ‘I’ll stay with you. If you’ll have me.’

  The boy’s proposal was unexpected. Silas had planned that Jax too would be sent off to a remote location, to live in one of the safe houses he’d set up.

  ‘That won’t be possible. Even with this place gone, you’re hardly difficult to spot.’

  ‘You know I can make anyone see me however I want them to, Silas.’ As if to demonstrate this, the boy transformed into a replica of the man himself, so that Silas was looking at his own twin and hearing his own voice speak to him inside his head. Even though this is only a trick of the mind, I think you’d agree it’s a pretty good disguise. His doppelgänger disappeared as quickly as it had appeared and a grinning albino boy was standing before him once again.

  Silas blinked, an uneasy expression on his face. ‘Don’t do that again. It’s . . . weird.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I was just trying to demonstrate to you that I would not be a liability to have around.’

  His rescuer considered this. ‘There would have to be rules if you were to come and live with me. No more paranormal mind tricks unless they are absolutely called for. And the first time I find you rummaging around inside my head, you’re out, OK?’

  ‘Rummaging around in your head?’

  ‘I know you can tune into my thoughts, Jax.’

  ‘I wouldn’t do that to you. I respect you too much.’

  Silas blew out his cheeks. ‘I can’t believe I’m going to do this,’ he said under his breath, ‘but, all right. You can come with me.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Silas looked about him at the room where the children had been imprisoned. ‘What do you say we erase this hellhole from the face of the earth?’

  Jax didn’t hesitate. ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure.’

  With that, the two set off in the direction of the cold fusion reactor deep in the bowels of the building, both determined that in a short while the place referred to as the Farm would utterly cease to exist.

  THIRTEEN YEARS LATER

  Rush

  A low, rumbling sound registered with Rush despite the fact he was fast asleep and dreaming. It was the same dream he always had. He was in a large white space. He was very small, but knew what was expected of him. Around him, set into the walls and ceiling at various points, were small, dark apertures, like black eyes staring out at him. In one wall was a mirror, and he somehow knew that the men who ran the place were behind it, looking in on him. There was a series of hisses followed by phlump! sounds as, suddenly, one after another, wooden balls flew at him from every direction. Just as the objects were about to strike, they were deflected, as if he and the projectiles were magnets of the same pole, repulsing each other at the last moment. He had the vague impression of a man’s voice – a man hidden behind the mirrored surface – but not of the words he was saying. All he knew was that the man was pleased Rush hadn’t been hit, and Rush was pleased he had made the man feel this way.

  A door opened in the wall and a woman dressed all in white entered. The woman would take him back to the room where the others were kept. It was always the same woman in the dream.

  But there was something different this time. She stopped before him, but instead of reaching down to pick him up, she spoke. The woman in white never spoke in the dream, and it was clear the voice wasn’t hers; it was the voice of a young man, as if someone was using this dream phantom to speak to him.

  They’re coming for you, Rush. You have to escape NOW. You must make your way to the mutant ghetto near City Four. Cross the Wastelands and find the Tranter Trading Post. There’s something you need to collect there.

  Rush opened his eyes and turned his head in the direction of the window beside his bed. The rumbling had stopped abruptly. Strangely, it was this sudden lack of noise that had finally wrenched him from his sleep. Night had not yet given way to day, but the colour and quality of the light outside told him it would not be long before dawn broke. Getting to his knees on the small wooden pallet with the straw-stuffed mattress on top, he peered outside at the official-looking vehicle that had come to a halt outside their farmhouse, its engine making loud ticking sounds as it cooled.

  Josuf appeared at the doorway to Rush’s room, hastily pulling on a holed and misshapen woollen jumper as he looked fearfully towards the window. His hair was sticking up and he ran a hand over his beard in a manner that made Rush nervous. They could both clearly hear the voices outside now. Josuf spoke with quiet urgency. ‘Get your clothes on, Rush. Get them on and get ready. It’s probably nothing. But just in case . . .’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Do it. Now.’ He turned away from the boy and walked back along the narrow hallway in the direction of the front door.

  As he tugged his trousers on, Rush stole another glance through the window just as men began to disembark from the vehicle. The first out looked down at an electronic device in his hands, swiping the glowing screen with his finger before nodding back at two more men, each of whom Rush could now see was carrying a rifle of some kind. Rush leaned forward until his forehead almost touched the windowpane, squinting to get a better look at the weapons.

  He heard the front door open, and the man he thought of as a father spoke: ‘Can I
help you? Who are you people?’

  ‘Agency for the Regulation of Mutants. Get everyone in the house outside.’

  Rush’s blood ran cold. The ARM was a relatively new organisation set up under the direction of President Melk. The men and women who served in its units were notorious for their brutality and there had already been a number of deaths during the breaking up of ‘illegal mutant rallies’. It was especially worrying that they were out here; the ARM crews usually stayed close to the cities, and to the mutant slums that had sprung up beyond their walls.

  ‘It’s rather late. Couldn’t this wait until –’

  ‘When I want your opinion, Mute, I’ll ask for it. All members of this household out front now. You’ve got two minutes to comply.’ The man glanced down at his omnipad. The light shining up from below cast deep shadows over his face.

  ‘What makes you think there’s anyone else here?’

  ‘The people on the neighbouring smallholding told us that there’s a young boy living here. Approximately fifteen years of age?’

  ‘He’s asleep.’

  ‘Then you have –’ the man consulted his watch – ‘about one minute fifty seconds to wake him up and get him the hell out here.’ He stopped, his abrupt tone softening a little. ‘We just need a small blood sample from you both. Nothing more than a prick of the finger. We’ll run it through our machine and be on our way.’

  ‘Right.’ Josuf gestured back towards the house. ‘I’ll, er . . . I’ll go and get him.’ As he turned and walked towards the door he lifted his hand, accidentally knocking the metal triangle that hung beside the door and making a loud clanging sound. He grabbed the thing to quieten it again, turning and nodding his apologies to the armed men.

  The triangle was the signal. Rush hurried from his room, making his way down the hallway and into the kitchen. There, disguised to look like a part of the wall, was a secret panel. He pulled it back on its hinges, crouched down and peered inside. The space seemed much smaller than he remembered. It was the ‘safe place’ Josuf had shown him when he was still small. In those days, his guardian had spoken often about what to do if a ‘situation’ occurred, but it had been a long time since the pair had even thought about such a thing or conducted the ‘emergency drill’ that had been so commonplace back then. Nevertheless, the boy remembered the things they’d agreed; he shuffled inside, pulling the panel back into place behind him. Cobwebs stuck to his face and hair; he blew them away as best he could while listening out for the sounds of the house on the other side. If ever he heard the signal, he was to come here and wait until Josuf arrived.