Dawnrunner

Chapter 14

The next morning I step through the doors of the hotel into pouring rain. Like the air, the rain here is dirtier than in the Sanctuary, and the water is leaving streaks on the windows of the jeeps waiting in the compound. I spend a few moments watching my breath catch on the cold wind. The lights from the street lamps are in full burn against the darkness, made all the heavier by the rain. Inside the Sanctuary dome, great lights mimicked the effect of the sun; here there is nothing but thick cloud. I throw my arms above my head and run with Rachel and Christy to the nearest car.
The doors open with a hiss as the filtered air escapes the seal. I notice immediately that the handles for the windows have been removed. In the driver’s seat sits an Italian soldier with a thin moustache called Mattielli, who smiles warmly as we climb inside.
“Hello, signore. You must be Miss Carliah, I am right?”
I nod quickly, but Mattielli has already finished looking at me and is staring at Rachel. “And this – bella donna – Miss Rachel, yes?” For a split second Rachel smiles and looks as though she’s going to say something encouraging, but she shuts down completely when she catches my eye. Like I’m in a position to judge, I remind myself. I still haven’t had the guts to tell her anything about Michael. Then again, I don’t have a fiancé.
From inside, I hesitate to close the door and look back at the hotel. Michael is standing in the doorway. Not Michael, chides my narcissistic self. She’s right, of course: it’s Lazarus, doing what a leader should be doing, preparing the convoy that’s about to leave for the GE stronghold.
Tanya appears out of nowhere, startling me almost to the point of falling out. There’s a look on her face I can’t place, a dead seriousness in her eyes as she stares at me. I’m terrified of this woman, and probably always will be.
“Lazarus wants to speak to you before we leave,” she says coldly before climbing into the seat beside Mattielli. For the first time I realise she is coming with us. Then my mind does a backflip to the part about Michael wanting to talk to me and I quickly push the scowl off my face.
My stomach tightens as I run across the compound. In my mind I’m screaming at him to go inside, just a few short steps so we disappear from the eyes of the soldiers and my friends. The look on his face is all I need to know he feels the same way, but he won’t do it. Lazarus is in control, the perfect commander.
“Miss Webb,” he says formally. I stop breathing, curtsey of the feeling that my lungs have just collapsed. I must be wearing my pain on my face because his eyes soften and he tries again in a more personal tone. “Carliah.”
I open my mouth to speak, but there’s nothing I want to say, not to this man, not to Lazarus. After a few moments he stops waiting.
“What you and your friends are doing for the resistance is a great service, and will never be forgotten. When we take the Sanctuary, you will be heroes.” His words remind me of a well-rehearsed speech, but I can’t pay any attention to them. His words for everyone else, not for me. Absently I hold my hand out towards him, which he takes. Finally his voice lowers to a whisper as he speaks only to me. “We will meet again, I promise. Until then, be safe.” He finishes with a kiss on my hand. Holding back any sign of emotion, I turn on my heel and head for the jeep.

No one speaks as the jeeps roll out of Sofia. Within minutes we pass the outer reach of the city lights and plunge into a pitch black held at bay only by the headlights.
Rachel is fiddling with the modified version of her phone that we got back at the hotel. She’s trying to establish an outgoing connection back to the Sanctuary. I don’t have the heart to remind her that she is the same woman who needed me to install her anti-virus for her. I’m more interested in trying to sleep than her fiddling, but every few moments she tugs my arm to look at something in the files.
“Carli, check this out!” comes the excited voice from the seat next to me. I am far beyond the point of caring as I take the small handset and try to bring the screen into focus. On the display are three options which I recognise immediately.

GENERAL RESIDENTS
SPECIAL RESOURCES
MILITARY RESERVES

My eyes widen a little as I realise what she’s stumbled onto. These are the Valkyrie personnel files, the same ones Lazarus was looking at when he was interrogating me back in the penthouse. Information about everyone from the Sanctuary, including Rachel and I, are in these files.
‘I was born in the Sanctuary…’ the voice in my memory shoots through me like an electric shock.
“Rache, can I borrow this for a minute?”
“Sure,” she says with a grin. “Just give it back when you’re done. I want to look up Vincent and see what he’s not told me. Maybe he’s been married before or something. These are the things I should know...”
I roll my eyes while envying the playfulness with which Rachel can view the unfettered access we now possess. She repositions herself so that her head is resting on the doorframe and closes her eyes. To the extent that I’m in a medium-sized jeep with four other people, I have relative privacy to conduct my search. With tentative fingers I select option three: Military Reserves.

The first search brings up close to three hundred ‘Michaels,’ none of whom are the man I now know, part-time at least, as Lazarus. I’m about to wake up Rachel to give her back the phone when I spot the note in the corner of the screen reminding me that the search includes only those currently serving.
Modifying the search to soldiers no longer serving brings up another 100 or so names, none of which are right. There is something incredibly frustrating about it all that I very nearly scream. Not until my eyes drift over to the barren territories around us do I realise my mistake.
I modify the search one more time, selecting the option for ‘fugitives of the Sanctuary.’ Sure enough, of the three Michaels that appear, at the top of the list sits the picture that I saw in the tram: the man with a bandage over his right eye. Next to it is the caption: Michael Valin, Captain, MR39620 – DESERTER.
What follows is a list of crimes perpetrated by the renegade now known as Lazarus, including attacks on GE settlements, stealing supplies and most recently the thief of the Dawnrunner. To my surprise, there is no mention of the presence of the Commander-General at the time of the attack. Presumably they didn’t want anyone to know how close he was to the danger. Scrolling down there are some details about his injury, sustained during the last battle of Hong Kong, just before he disappeared from the GE forces. Included is a list of Global Effort soldiers he killed before escaping.
“What’s wrong?” Rachel has chosen that moment to wake up and the look on my face has tipped her off. In the rear-view mirror I can see Tanya watching me apprehensively, and I quickly take the phone back to the beginning of the menu.
“Nothing,” I reply, hoping for a veneer of sincerity. “Nothing’s wrong.” Rachel takes the phone back with a well-used look of ‘I know you’re lying but I’m not going to ask… yet.’
Amsterdam is still more than ten hours away so I lie my head down and try to rest under the rhythm of the jeep making its way across the ruined country side.