CHAPTER TWELVE

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

'Where are we going, exactly?' asked Rhama, her eyes wide at the hustle and bustle of the portside town; sailors and traders carting boxes of fish and goods through the alleyways to and from the docks. They were perhaps a mile away from the shadow of the dock's main control tower, and Crysis spied the odd security guard slinking through the throngs. There was still a little smoke rising in the distance from where they had ditched the ship, and he knew it wouldn't be long before they connected it with the escape pod in the river that went through Tarterra. They needed to move quickly.

'Nowhere in particular,' Crysis said, looking behind him before taking an immediate right.

'Nowhere in particular my fourth eye,' Doone remarked, holding up his hands in apology to a beefy man who he had accidentally knocked on his way through. 'You know exactly where you're going.'

'I thought you'd said you hadn't been to Androssios I before, Crysis,' Rhama said.

'Well,' Crysis said as he began scanning the names of the shops in the cramped little alleyway, 'I didn't think I had. Then I slept on it and realised I'd pulled in a few years ago. I'd thought I'd gone to Androssios IV, and then remembered it was on this Androssios instead. There's too many of them; I get confused every time I come near this part of the Empire. I should think that, if they still live here, I've got an old friend that can get us off this rock.'

'So why split up?'

'He might not be here still.'

Crysis led them down a winding series of passages that grew grottier and grimier as they wandered away from the main path. Shops faded away to be replaced with rickety doors, window frames that had splintered away in the sea air. There was a sense of utter poverty and desolation about the paths they walked that started to feel oppressive, an air of loneliness and solitude, hustle and bustle giving rise to the feeling of wandering where one wasn't wanted, and the voyeurism in the shadows that was beginning to grow thicker, a mist that hung in the dank air.

The doorway they stopped at looked like it was about to fall off its hinges. The smell of rotten fish emanated from somewhere deep inside its bowels, and the windows were so grimy it was impossible to peer inside. In the shadows of the alley, Rhama's smile faded to a paranoid twitch. Here everything was muffled and muted, as if someone had put them inside a little glass dome and cut them off from the outside world. It made Rhama uneasy, and even Crysis seemed to feel the eyes peering from the black windows surrounding them.

'It looks like you're out of luck this time,' Doone said, putting his face to the window. 'It doesn't look like anyone has lived in this shack for years. You sure you've got the right place?'

Crysis nodded. He wandered down the cobbles a few paces and peered down the alley, into the black of one of the sea's cliffs that the town dug itself into. 'Yeah, definitely. I'm pretty sure I got shot at just there.'

'What was that for?' Doone asked, not removing his face from the glass.

'Might have nicked a couple of guns,' Crysis admitted. 'And a Halo-Core. Mostly I think it was the bra that really pissed them off.'

'You stole a woman's bra?' Rhama spat. 'I always thought of you as a polite and understanding individual.'

'It was a man's bra,' Crysis said, 'and he deserved it, trust me.' He went back to the door and raised a hand. He paused only for a second, his usual confidence and bravado needing a quick look over, before he brought his fist to the wood. The door shook in the frame, the sound muffled and dead. He waited for a few moments before trying again. 'Hello? Anyone in?' Once more he knocked.

'You think they would respond if they were?' Doone hissed.

'He's right, Crysis,' Rhama said, looking around nervously again. 'Let's just try the dock and get the hell out of here. This place is starting to give me the creeps.'

Crysis ignored the shadows that he saw moving in one of the windows of a house three doors down. He confidently took a step back and inspected the house as if he had never seen it before. 'Yes, this is definitely the right place, but he doesn't appear to be in.' He spoke in a voice much too loud to be talking simply to his two companions. 'Let's go.'

'Finally,' Rhama sighed, turning to head back into town with all haste. She had pulled her jacket tightly around her as they had stood trying the door, and she let it fall as they began to walk away. She felt the eyes around them follow their progress.

They were back into their search only half an hour later, plenty of time to go before meeting up with the rest of their crew.

'So, did that little adventure benefit us in any way?' Doone asked, his fingers twitching by his side.

'Of course,' Crysis said. But now, first things first. Let's grab a drink.'

Rhama stopped. 'A drink? Right now?'

'Why not?' Crysis asked, eyebrow arched. 'It's the perfect time to take up a glass of your favourite beverage.'

Doone scrutinised him, then nodded. 'Yes, a drink sounds good. Come on, Rhama. Trust the guy. He knows what he's doing.'

Rhama looked from Human to Merkiosen, from Merkiosen and back to Human, and couldn't figure out who was the most stupid. 'Aren't we supposed to be looking for transport?'

'And what better place than a pub? Come on,' Crysis said, taking her hand, 'let's go.'

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net