He let go; and Rocco gasped and wheezed, fighting for every bit of air he could get into his lungs. He was drowning within his own body.
“Normally, when a citizen of Whitethorn breaks the law, we put them in our jail for a while. But you, Nyriki Rocco, are not a citizen of Whitethorn.”
Just as light began to return to his eyes, an intense pressure pushed the ball of his ankle into the concrete as the councilman ground down on it with his boot. He gasped for air, but couldn’t get enough. His vision blacked again. He twitched and writhed as much as his confines allowed.
The councilman took his boot off Rocco’s ankle, then proceeded to untie him. He knelt by Rocco’s bleeding head.
“An old book once said justice was an eye for an eye.” He pulled Rocco’s knife out of its sheath, then grabbed his arm. “You suffocated one of my men. Ruined another’s ankle. Stabbed another’s arm.” He thrust the knife into his bicep. A hideous, strangled sound crawled through Rocco’s mouth. Tears streamed from his eyes. “And you broke his wrist, too.” He grabbed Rocco’s other arm and snapped the wrist. “Hurt one’s ear.” He grabbed Rocco’s hair, lifted his head, then slammed it down on the concrete. Blood gushed from his ear, and the shrieks of pain drowned all other sound. He saw the blue arcs of electricity issue from a stun baton.
“You’ve been shocked before, but not here. Not by me. That was in self-defense. This is punishment.” He tapped Rocco’s stomach. Rocco twitched and recoiled from its touch. He tapped it again. Rocco screamed. The councilman pressed the baton to Rocco’s side. His skin was torn from his body as he tried to scoot away on the concrete. Then, an excruciating jolt tore through his body, from the groin, as the councilman kept the pressure for a full second.
Rocco was so blind with pain that he couldn’t even register what was happening. The councilman kept talking, but he didn’t hear any of it. All he knew was that a door was shut and a light was turned off, and he was left naked in the cold, blind and deaf, with every inch of his body crying out in agony.
***
The unmistakable sound of train wheels scraping on metal tracks snapped John out of a sleep. Before he could react, Fox’s giant hand shoved him out of the draisine, true to his word.
“We need to get this off the tracks,” Fox shouted. John scrambled to his feet and rushed to the side of the draisine, pushing it with all his might. “No, I’ll push, you pull!”
“I don’t want to be crushed by this thing!” The train was coming quickly. “No time, move!” They ran and hid behind a nearby stone. The front of the train smashed the draisine to pieces, sending shards of wood everywhere.
“Come on!” Fox said. They ran to the train and jumped. John caught hold of a ladder and climbed to the top of the car, then dropped inside. Fox had already pulled himself in through the side door.
“Least this’ll be faster than that damn thing.”
“That was Mr. Hyperion’s property.”
“Guy’s got billions. I don’t think he’ll miss one draisine.”
“Someone’s gonna be mad.”
“Fox, we almost just died, is that really all you care about?”
They were silent for a moment. “I’ll look for a sign,” Fox said, standing up. He approached the ladder. “I told you not to fall asleep.” He climbed up before John could swear at him.
Several minutes later, Fox climbed back down. “Sign says we’re two hours out.”
“You’re not gonna push me out if I sleep, are you?”
Fox set an alarm on his wristband. “Only if you start talking.”
***
A light touch pushed Rocco’s blood-clotted hair out of his eyes. He stirred.
“There will be no trial,” said the voice of the councilwoman. “Can you hear me? One blink for yes, two for no.” Rocco blinked once. “I burned the contents of the safe. There were mostly personal items, but also a slip of paper with ‘Redwoods’ written on it. Do you know what that means?” He blinked twice. “It was the only thing I found that could’ve been a clue. There’s a Redwoods Monastery a mile and a half south of here. Perhaps he wanted you to go there. It’s a stretch, but it’s better than nothing.”
Rocco’s muddled thoughts began to clear up. That must be what Mayor Hal wanted to tell him: the location of the dead drop with the contents of his mission. He had to get to Redwoods. The voice above him droned on, but he wasn’t paying attention. The only thing that mattered to him was escape. Regrettably, he was in no condition to do anything of the sort.
“Listen, Nyriki. There’s no way you can make it out on your own. Let me help you. I can get you out of here and down to Redwoods.” He blinked once. “Good. We’ve been rebuilding an old relic used to transport people to places trains can’t reach. I can bring it here, but you’ll have to make your way to the door on your own.” He blinked. “I retrieved your clothing, supplies, and weapons. Someone will notice they’re missing. We must move quickly.” She strode out, shutting the door behind her.
He didn’t like the sound of this. He didn’t even know if he could trust this woman. She had no discernable reason to help him. But at the moment, he didn’t exactly have a choice.
* New installments of The Hyperion Estate appear every three weeks.
