The Hyperion Estate: Chapter Five

John leaned forward. “He will die. Quick and painful. But Mr. Hyperion wants to talk to him first.”

“All right. I’m afraid you might be too late, though. He and Councilwoman Chena made off in a jeep. That thing can probably go about as fast as a train.”

“You said he’s pretty hurt, right? He’ll need a doctor. If you can point me to the closest doctor we can start there.”

“The closest town is Redway. Pretty good doctor there, I think. Fifteen miles north of here.”

“And that, what’d you call it, jeep? That was your only mode of transportation?”

“Not quite. We have a couple of bicycles we keep in case of an emergency. I’d say this counts.”

“Great… let me get Fox and we’ll meet you there.”

“I’ll have one of the guards show you the way.”

***

Rocco woke up in a bed in a relatively clean looking room. Not dead, and in a hospital. That’s good.

“Good to see you awake, Mr. Smith,” said a woman’s voice to the left, by the door

Rocco grunted, thankful that Tariro gave a fake name, glad he wasn’t dealing with an amateur.

“We’ve got you stabilized and on blood and painkillers. Might be a while before you’ll be up and about, but you should be out of here in a few days. Just hit the bell if you need anything.”

He nodded, and she left.

“We can’t stay that long,” said Tariro, at his right. Rocco was startled a little. He didn’t see her in there. “The Whitethorn authorities will be after us. Redwoods will be the first place they think to look, so we’ll be leaving in a few hours, when night falls. I took a lot of money from Whitethorn, so I bought plenty of supplies. I’ll make arrangements to leave.”

She left. Rocco sighed. Might as well work on trying to move and talk.

***

Myers jumped onto the back car of the train. It was getting dark, so he wouldn’t be able to read any signs. Harry had said it was about an hour, so Myers set his wristband to go off in forty minutes. He leaned against the wall of the train car and closed his eyes.

He was woken up, not by his alarm, but by a deafening thunder that shook the car and rocked him to the other side. He scrambled to his feet and climbed to the top.

The wind was too strong for him to stand, but as he looked up, he saw the source of the sound. Great fire and smoke rose from the north. Myers’ gut sank, his jaw dropped.

“No,” he whispered. A second later, the shockwave hit him like a wall, and flung him back. He rolled and skidded across the top of the train, grasping desperately at the metal to stop himself. He reached the end of the car, but failed to grab the edge and dropped off the train, landing with a gasp, face first on the tracks.

He caught his breath, got to his knees, and wiped the blood off his mouth with his sleeve. He looked up, watching as the train, framed by a cloud of ash and smoke and fire, rolled into whatever was left of Corona.

***

“You’re breathing pretty heavy, John,” Fox said as they pedaled toward Redway. He looked over at John and barely made out the shape of a fist in the twilight. He guessed a finger was coming out of it. “Still don’t know why you didn’t let the councilman send one of his guards with us.”

“I don’t trust those meatheads to not shoot Rocco. And they can’t do undercover work.” His breathing was labored. “Drawing attention is no good. They see us, they run, and there’s no way we can catch them on these damn things.” He coughed. “We don’t know where they’ll go next. This is our only chance.”

“Nice of him to give us a tranq gun though.”

“Me a tranq gun. You’re a terrible shot.”

Dim light appeared over the horizon.

“Almost there,” Fox said. “You know you’re not gonna be able to catch a breath right?” He glanced over and saw John’s fist again.

When they made it to the gate, they dismounted the bicycles and leaned them up against the wall.

“Can we keep these here?” Fox asked the guard.

“Sure. The hell are they?”

Fox shrugged. “Found them on the road. Quicker than walking.”

John noticed the guard eyeing the bicycles. “Here,” he said, handing the guard a few bills. “You’ll get twice that if they’re still here when we come back.”

“You bet. What’s your business here?

“Hospital,” Fox said. Picking up some supplies for a journey.”

“All right, it’s a few blocks east of the bar just inside.” He pointed to a bright neon sign. “Just follow the signs. Head on in.”

After they went past the bar, they saw the hospital. In the streetlights, they saw young woman standing outside talking to a doctor. She glanced their way, but ignored them, said a few things to the doctor, and walked inside.

“Was that her?” Fox asked.

“The councilwoman? Maybe. Kinda looked like one of the doctors too.”

“She saw us.”

“She doesn’t know who we are. Just act normal. Stealth, remember? That thing you’re so great at?”

“Go to Hell.”

***

Rocco had just managed to whisper a few words when the door slammed open and Tariro came in.

“Get up, Rocco. Whitethorn’s here. I don’t know how they got here so f… oh no.”

“What?” Rocco whispered.

“They must’ve got the bicycles fixed.” She swore under her breath, then helped Rocco get up. “Good to hear you talk again by the way.” She led him out into the hallway. “We’re on the third floor, so we’ll have to go out the fire escape at the end of the hall. Can you handle that?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Ma’am,” said one of the nurses. “What are you doing? You can’t—”

Rocco heard the familiar click and whine of a laser pistol powering up. He looked to the side and saw Tariro pointing his gun at the nurse.

“Yes, I can. We’re leaving. Move.”

The nurse quickly pressed her back to the wall, and Tariro led Rocco toward the window at the end of the hall.

 

 

* New installments of The Hyperion Estate appear every three weeks.