city of anarchy

chapter four

Turnfly sprinted down the street, her mind on autopilot. This prevented her from fully registering what she was doing and whom it was she was running away from, so there was less chance of unwanted disabilities kicking in.

Sofia sprinted after her, her chest thrust out importantly as she ran, blouse fluttering in the breeze, chopping the air into ribbons with her hands. Several other Agents trailed behind her.

Turnfly arced left as an intersection forced her to make a change in direction. Sofia followed as if she had predetermined it, her eyes locked on to the hideously deformed marker of her afro as it bobbed above the bewildered pedestrians walking along the pavement.

Turnfly cut across the traffic, weaving her way unceremoniously through the vehicles as they screeched to a halt around her. The stalled traffic allowed Sofia and the Agents to run across with ease, one or two of them even taking the opportunity to throw up their legs and slide stylishly across car bonnets. Turnfly found herself losing speed. She was tired, breathless, and had a stitch in her right side. The Agent behind her ran like a machine and was rapidly closing in on her. Desperation overcame her, but she felt too weak, too exhausted, to feel any panic. Her adrenaline ebbed away, and this time she slowed of her own accord.

She came to a stop on a small, concrete bridge and staggered over to the railing. She leaned on it and looked down at the railtrack that ran under it and onwards, and then up at the dark and looming Sir Tenebrous Tower, knowing that she would be returning there shortly; that her break for freedom had been in vain.

Still trying to catch her breath, she turned and saw Agent Sofia and the others standing there. Sofia looked almost sympathetic.

'We have her,' she said into her watch. She looked at the girl. 'Who are you running from, Turnfly?' she asked.

In the background, the steady rattle of a train could be heard. Turnfly saw it appear from around a corner in the distance behind the Agents.

'We can protect you, you know,' said Sofia. 'Whoever it is you're afraid of, they won't get to you. We won't let them.'

Turnfly didn't say a word, instead turning away from them, placing her hands on the railing and looking straight ahead.

She could hear the train getting closer.

'Come on, Turnfly. Come with us. No more chainsaws, we promise.'

She felt the rattling carriages approach the bridge--then she pushed herself up onto the railing and stood balanced very precariously on it.

'Grab her legs!' shouted Sofia.

Feeling their hands brush against her, she cried out--and jumped.

And at the same time, the train shot through the bridge. Turnfly cruised through the air in the slow motion of cinematic freedom; the Agents looked on in disbelief. She glanced down, dismayed as she saw the train rip along the track with explosive speed. She reached out as the final carriage tore away from her; her only chance of escape.

Then she hit the track. Sofia watched wide-eyed as she came into contact with the electrified rail, her body jolting backwards as high voltage surged through her.

'Get her off there!' screamed the Agent. 'Get her off! ' Sofia closed her eyes and tried to stay focused.

'We need an ambulance!' she yelled into the watch. 'NOW!'

Holly could hear someone moving around. She crawled as silently as she could towards Eugene's desk and felt around on the top of it for something to use should she have to fight. Her fingers touched upon something cold.

A pen. It would do. She could jab whoever it was pretty hard in the eye. She clutched it to her chest and listened, poised like a bushbaby. Now there was silence. She waddled hushedly back to her hiding place below the glass-panelled wall and waited.

Then she heard the door open. Her grip around the pen tightened. There was another moment of silence; Holly tried to peer over the desk without being seen, but could not see who was there. She shrank back as she heard whoever it was enter and walk around.

A pair of shoes stepped into view.

She launched, cannoning into the man and ramming him into the wall. He spluttered and cried out as the shelves came into contact with his back. One shelf broke, its many fat folders sliding along it and onto the floor as Holly held him pinned.

He was more of a boy than a man, with dishevelled, straw-coloured hair, green eyes and freckles. He rolled his eyes.

Holly scowled at him and pointedly perused her watch. 'You're late,' she said. She grabbed a fistful of his green shirt and brought the pen menacingly close to his eye. 'I have serious doubts about your commitment to this enterprise.'

'I got held up,' said the boy, his gaze fixed on the pen.

'Held up indeed,' said Holly, bringing the pen even closer. The boy grabbed it, twisted it out of her hand and used it in a similarly threatening way, forcing her to take a step back.

'What's going on?' he demanded. 'Where's Eugene? And how did you get all those bruises? Did you discover his love for another and kill him? I bet you did.'

'Shut up,' she said, walking over to the tiny office window and peering outside. 'We can't stay here, Angus. We have to find out who blew up the Conceptual Building Facility thing. What did you get held up with, anyway?'

'What?' said Angus. 'And--what?'

'Eugene got arrested,' said Holly. 'I'm sure you noticed the big building in the middle of the city going up in flames? The police think he did it.'

'What? Why? How?' And, 'Did he?'

Holly gave him a glare that could have winded a storm. 'I delivered a package last night that may or may not have blown the place up. They seemed to believe me when I said I didn't know what was in it, but that still implicates Eugene. But he didn't do it, I know he didn't. And so do you,' she added, sternly.

'Did you check to see what the package was?' asked Angus.

'Yes, on the computer. It's not there. It's been deleted.'

'You sure he didn't just not put it in?' said Angus.

'No, Angus, there's a blank line where something used to be,' she said, irritation rising in her voice. 'And do you really think that if he was capable of something like this he'd be so careless as to leave a trail?'

Angus shrugged. 'His mind is all over the place. But yeah, alright,' he said, holding up his hands in the face of another glare. 'This is Eugene. Not capable. I agree.'

'We need to find out who really did it,' she said. If anyone, she thought. The police liked their games.

'Are you sure we shouldn't just leave that to--'

'No, they're bastards.'

The ambulance, the Agency's very own, raced through the traffic, weaving meticulously between the other startled vehicles and making as much noise about it as possible.

Sofia stood in the back, one arm against the side of the ambulance for support, swaying with its erratic motions. Crouched down by the still figure of Turnfly were two paramedics setting up a defibrillator and trying to save her life.

'Almost there,' the driver called back. 'Hold on...what the--'

Sofia tore her gaze away from Turnfly and looked through the window in front as the ambulance and several other vehicles swerved to avoid a long, white lorry that backed out of an alleyway and blocked the entire width of the road.

The driver swore and slammed his fist down on the horn. 'Move, idiot!'

'What's it doing?' demanded Sofia.

'Nothing, apparently! It's just...stopped! It's not doing anything!'

Sofia was about to get out and harangue the lorry's driver when the back of the long vehicle opened up, and half a dozen men in white boiler suits and black boots stepped out. And, Sofia noticed, suddenly on edge, their faces were all hidden by strange, black plastic masks.

They were making their way through the traffic to the ambulance.

One of the paramedics cried out as the equipment sparked and the ECG went out.

'That can't be good. Move!' said Sofia. 'Move, now!'

But it was too late. The doors of the ambulance were pulled open and the driver and his mate were dragged out of their seats, struggling, before their necks were broken and they were dumped on the street.

Several more came in through the back, took the horrified paramedics by their armpits and threw them out onto the road. Sofia shrieked and kicked out at them, striking one hard with her fist when he tried to grab her legs. He fell back, but there were too many at too close quarters for Sofia to fight them all off.

The ambulance moved and turned as its new driver took over the wheel, and it wasn't long before the vehicle was travelling with speed in completely the wrong direction. Sofia fought madly, but they overwhelmed her, picked her up and threw her through the doors.

She tucked herself into a roll and managed to brace herself for the main brunt of the impact, but she was still in pain and bleeding when she staggered with effort to her feet.

The ambulance, with Turnfly still inside, was gone.

'What happened last night has come as a shock to all of us,' said Mayor Mawgly, standing with a concerned expression behind a rostrum, flash photography from the press exploding all around her. 'Indeed, few are more surprised and upset than myself.'

Avgi stood facing away from the television she had taken back from Hermes, and gazed sombrely out through Secret Room Y's large window. There would be some other explanation, she insisted. As soon as they got her back, they'd figure out how she did it. The explanation would be logical and unspectacular.

'But the cause,' continued the Mayor, 'has been determined. There is no denying that this was no accident. This was sabotage. The sabotage of a fine facility that this city has been so privileged to have, and sabotage that has cost the lives of the great men and women who worked within it.'

Avgi's expression remained deadpan as she picked up her pistol from the coffee table and checked that it was loaded. She would not get distracted. She would return to the matter at hand.

'A suspect is being detained in police custody,' Mawgly said, and Avgi turned to the screen. 'At this time, we cannot reveal any more than that. But please be reassured, my good people, that justice will be had.' Avgi watched the woman on the screen with an expression of utter distaste.

She holstered her weapon and left, allowing the Mayor to continue feeding her drivel to an empty room. Avgi wanted some real answers.

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