by T. C. Edge
And I think, watching as the masses spread forth from the earth, how much I’d like to bring Cromwell along with us. How I’d like to see how his old body holds up to what lies ahead. How I’d like to see him face off against a mutated, ravenous wolf, or a young tribal hunter, living in these terrible conditions, seeking out his skull to wear as a hat.
Oh, how I’d love that…
I give the thought a second to populate my head and draw a wicked smirk to my lips. Then it’s gone, and I’m helping the people out, and searching from one face to the next for some sign of Drum or Sophie.
So many come, hundreds of them clambering from the ground, quickly moved off out of sight and assembled to the north of the church in a wide expanse of earth.
More gas masks are handed out to those who need them most. Spare guns are given to those who never thought they’d have to carry them. And all the while, as I search for my friends, I search too for faces of grit, for men and women in uniform, for those charged with leading the rabble northwards into the wilderness.
And in my head there’s only one conclusion…
Not enough.
159
They keep on coming, spewing up from the ground and into the cool morning light. There’s a frantic, febrile energy in the air as the people wonder what’s next for them, as they’re gathered and penned together and sorted by the few soldiers we have.
I continue to move through them, searching for the giant form of Drum, listening over the din for the sounds of a crying baby. The noise, and mesh of bodies makes both so difficult, until finally I see a lumbering hulk emerge from the barn, kitted out in rugged fatigues and clasping at a heavy rifle that few others would have the strength to hold.
I judder towards him, squeezing through the sea of flesh until our eyes catch and I clasp his thick trunk. Our embrace is brief, nothing but the equivalent of a peck on the lips.
I look up and search his oversized features and see that he’s been in the wars. Soot and ash cast his cheeks into shadow. His eyes look weary as if he’s had no sleep. Hidden behind the heavy mounds of bone and flesh that surround them, those dark irises stare with an intensity I’ve never seen in the man.
Because a man he is: no longer a boy.
“I thought you were in the city?” are his first words.
“I was,” I say. “I came back last night. I’m here to help get the people out.”
“Good. So am I.”
There’s a grit to him. His eyes dance over the throng and watch them assemble. Voices of commanding officers call out for order. Drum knows he has a job to do.
“I’d better go, Brie,” he says. “I have my unit to protect.”
How fast things have gone. Only recently he was himself part of a little group in the underlands, sitting alone in a quiet corner, stripped from his old life. Now he’s become a soldier, tasked with protecting a group who cannot protect themselves.
Before I let him go, I ask: “Have you seen Sophie? Is she OK?”
I can’t even remember if he knows her. Have they been introduced before?
His answer confirms that he’s aware of her at least.
“She was with us,” he says. “Her and her baby…”
He stands up to his full height and spreads his eyes over the large crowd moving a little to the north. His eyes aren’t capable of picking her out.
But mine are.
“Hoist me up, will you?” I say.
He does so immediately, lifting me quickly and with consummate ease with one arm until I’m up towards his shoulder. The view is far better up here, and my Hawk-eyes go to work, scanning for Sophie’s sultry locks and beautiful blue eyes.
It doesn’t take long to catch them. Clutching at Maddox, who sits in a little pouch on her chest, she looks alert. In her hands she holds an electronic tablet, moving around and signing people off as she takes names. She’s clearly found her footing here quickly enough.
I climb down Drum’s arm and back to the ground.
“She’s there. I’ll see you in a bit…”
As I move off his clasping paw stops me. I turn back to him.
“How was Mrs C? And Tess and the others?”
“Oh, good, yeah,” I say. “Except that they tried to kill me…”
“They what?!” he exclaims, his voice booming.
I laugh and shake my head.
“It’s…nothing. Look, I’ll explain later. Focus on your job, Drum. And be safe.”
I jump up and kiss his cheek, before twisting on my heels and shifting quickly through the crowds. I come right up on Sophie before she even has a chance to realise I’m approaching. I take her by surprise.
“Brie!” she calls. I’m sucked into a hug, poor baby Maddox half crushed between our bodies. He doesn’t whimper or cry. Even he seems to have been toughened up by recent days. “I’m so glad to see you, honey,” she continues. “Are you coming with us?”
“Sure am,” I say, trying to sound positive. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Always wanted to get out of the city…now’s my chance, right?”
“Oh, absolutely. I have to say it’s a blessing being back out in the open.” She coughs a couple of times, a throaty gurgle clambering up through her windpipe. “This fog, though…not very pleasant.”
“You’ll get used to it,” I say. “It’s not so bad here. And I’ve heard it isn’t too bad to the north either. Do you have a mask?”
“A gas mask? I don’t.” Her eyes fall to her son. “It’s him I’m worried about most.”
I nod quickly.
“Look, don’t worry. I’ll get one for him. I’m sure they have little masks for babies.”
Really, though, I’m not sure at all. I don’t think babies were ever expected to journey out here.
And therein lies the worry. The boy is strong, yes, but also just an infant. The fog will quickly take its toll on one so vulnerable.
“I’d say keep his mouth and nose covered as much as you can,” I advise. “He…should be fine.”
She nods and fiddles a little with her shirt so that it covers her son’s face.
“So, you’re helping manage this rabble are you?” I ask.
“Oh yes, I’m used to such things so thought I’d help where I can. I just…” A moment of weakness threatens her. She coughs again and straightens her voice. “I’m just worried about Rycard. I don’t see why he’s part of that strike team…”
“Because he’s a great soldier, a strong leader, and knows Inner and Outer Haven like the back of his hand. Even without both of his eyes, he’s better than most.”
“But…they’re going to the heart of the city, aren’t they?” Her voice has become a whisper. I suspect that the general population aren’t aware of the plan, but Rycard has probably let slip a few details to his wife. She doesn’t seem to know the full truth, though.
“Yeah,” I say, not knowing how much to let loose. “Look, he’ll be fine, Soph. We’ll all be fine. I promise you. I’m going to try to stay close to you on the trip, OK. I won’t let anything happen to you or your son.”
“Brie, you’re so sweet and brave,” she smiles. “But…”
She looks around, clearly similarly concerned as I am about the numbers of soldiers we have here. And by the looks of things, there are few hybrids, although it’s hard to tell. Most appear to be regular Unenhanced, with the occasional Enhanced defector or those like Drum, with old Enhanced blood in them. It certainly isn’t the powerful force you’d wish for.
“I know,” I say, cutting her off. “We have low numbers. But we have to do what we can. We have some powerful hybrids who have been to the mines and back loads of times,” I say. “It’ll be fine. Just a nice stroll through the wilds.”
I can’t tell if I’m trying to set her at ease, or myself. Either way, it feels a little better to make light of everything.
“Anyway,” I finish. “I’ll let you get on. We’ll be leaving soon.”
She nods and moves off, and I return quickly
to the church. It’s much quieter now, half the people having gone out to help, or packed up to leave. Only a smattering of the Nameless remain, including Lady Orlando and Adryan, still buzzing away in the comms room with his technicians.
Lady Orlando finds me.
“How are things out there?” she asks.
“Frenetic,” I say. “But they seem happy to be out of the caverns.”
“OK, good. They’ll need to leave as soon as possible. We can’t delay anymore.”
“Some are still coming out of the tunnels,” I inform her.
“Then they have to be quick. The Stalkers will be right on their tail…and we can’t have them finding the passage to this church.”
“We’ve heard from the last sentries,” comes Adryan’s voice as he speeds over to join us. “They’re trying to hold the Stalkers back but are down to their bare bones. They’ll be overrun any minute, and then the Stalkers will find their way right to our door. Lady Orlando, the tunnels need to be blocked immediately.”
“Then give the order,” she says without hesitation. “And good luck to them.”
Adryan rushes off again.
“But our men? They’re still down there.”
“We have no choice, Brie. There is a network of passages leading from the main caverns. Only one comes right here, the one you’ve travelled before. The others are dead ends, but all need to be blocked. If they find their way here…”
“Then it’s over,” I say.
“Yes. They’ll catch us here, and find out everything they need to know. Our team will be discovered beneath the factory and…Artemis will win. The sentries are committed to the cause. They will blow the tunnels whether they’re down there or not. They’ve been programmed to act as such.”
Her final words shock me, but perhaps they shouldn’t.
“You mean…they have no control? There’s an order in their heads to blow the tunnels, even if it means their own death?”
She nods.
“Your brother has made sure of that. Sometimes, no matter how loyal a person might be, fear will get the better of them. The instinct to survive is powerful, and often a man will do very selfish things if it means they will live. We could never allow that in such circumstances. They will give their lives to save all of ours.”
I listen with a blank expression. There are no questions of morality and free will creeping to my tongue. I just listen and soak up the information, detached from it all.
Right now, the only thing that counts is the bigger picture. The future may well depend on such thinking. And in a strange twist, I imagine that only a Savant like Lady Orlando could have the objectivity and emotional dispassion to see it done.
But still, I’ll always offer help where I can. So on hearing the news, I rush back out towards the barn across the street, to where the people still climb out up the ladder and into the misty air.
“How many more to come?” my voice clatters to a guard aiding people on their way up.
“I…I don’t know exactly. Not many.”
“Bring them up, quick,” I shout. “The tunnels are going to blow!”
A haste imbues the people who hear me. A few cries of fear spread down the tunnel below as the final men and women rush quickly for the light.
And as they rush from the ground, and I help in pulling them up, I hear the sound of a low boom grumble from the south, from far away towards the city. Then, a second later, the earth shakes with a terrible anger, growling in pain as the final failsafes are triggered, and the many tunnels to the south implode and collapse, dropping down thousands upon thousands of tons of rock on top of those languishing behind.
And just as the last people squirm their way to freedom, a thick burst of ash and smoke comes pouring down the passage, joined by the licking tongues of devilish fire, like a dragon hunting down its prey.
“Get back,” I shout, dragging the nearest person I can along with me as I fall to the side, and the fiery smoke comes surging from the earth in a fountain of flame.
It pours up and into the barn, setting the interior alight as the people scream and rush away into the open. A few others come the other way as I hear Lady Orlando barking orders from the church to put out the flame. They rush in with old fire extinguishers, spewing out white froth and quickly smothering the blaze.
And as the earth settles, and the air fills once more with the distant and continuing sounds of war, I say a little prayer of thanks for those who just died for the cause.
And for the many Stalkers who, most likely, were eaten up by the earth as well.
160
There’s nothing to do now but leave. The people have amassed and been accounted for. Split into groups, they’ve been assigned the meagre allowance of guards we can afford.
I know it’s woefully insufficient.
I know that many of these people will die.
I’ve grown quickly used to the concept.
The morning air is clear, yet away on the northern horizon, the threat of darker skies loom. I suppose that’s appropriate really, and can’t help but huff at the thought that, away to the north where we’re headed, not even the skies will give us any respite.
It will, I know, make our job even harder. Turn the conditions against us, making visibility worse; masking the few Hawk-eyes we have at our disposal, and having a similar effect on our Sniffers and Bats.
But we have no choice. We have to go now, while it’s early, and try to cover as much ground as possible before the skies turn black. But from what I’ve now learned, the path is at least twenty miles as the crow flies, and much further if you add in the meandering path we’ll be required to follow. In truth, it may well take two days to get there, meaning a night spent in the wilderness is all but assured.
Such a horde cannot possibly travel at speed. Not with the old and young among them. The luxury of the daylight hours are something we cannot ignore. It’s imperative that we leave immediately and travel as quickly as we can.
We can’t wait any longer.
As the people prepare to embark, I find myself once more outside the church with Lady Orlando and Adryan. The former has just shown her face among the throng for the first time in a while, a sight intended to give them strength and give them hope. The latter has stayed at his post, never straying far from the comms room unless delivering an important message.
Now, though, as we prepare to leave, I say my goodbyes.
I know Adryan won’t be coming too. In large part, I’m glad about that, not least because his presence only seems to complicate things for me. I step away from him with a hug and a soft kiss to the lips. It isn’t long. Not a second can be wasted now.
Then I hug Lady Orlando, and assure her I’ll be back.
“Tomorrow,” I say. “I’ll come right back tomorrow.”
She doesn’t answer. None of us can possibly know whether or not that will be the case. Instead, her eyes lift to the woodland, over to the west, scanning slowly and with a muted expression of disappointment.
“Lady Orlando,” whispers Adryan. “They cannot delay. They can’t wait for him any longer…”
She doesn’t answer. And suddenly I find my own eyes turning to where hers stare. And within my mind, feel something, someone, approach. An energy that’s so familiar, so unique. And a voice that comes with it.
Don’t you go leaving yet…it says.
My eyes widen, and I continue to stare into the woods.
“My Lady,” says Adryan. “They must leave…”
She raises her hand, as if imbued with the same senses as me. As if her connection to him is so strong that she can feel him too, sense his arrival.
A smile starts to climb. It climbs on my face and hers too. And then, the shadows of the trees are joined by others. Silhouettes come stepping into the light, the sun casting down its rays and illuminating their features.
And finally, Adryan sees it too.
“Zander,” he whispers. “He’s come…”
I disa
ppear from them. I can’t help it. My Dasher powers explode within me and in seconds I’m blazing a trail across the street, across the fields, right up to the edge of the woods. I reappear before my brother and see several of his companions step back in surprise.
His companions, dressed in their pelts and scrappy materials, with wild hair and eyes, and necklaces of fangs and claws hanging from their necks. And right next to my brother, their most prominent member stands tall, his yellow teeth appearing in a grin as he sees me materialise.
“Well, well, boy, looks like sis is happy to see you,” chuckles Rhoth.
I look at him with a beaming smile.
“You have no idea!” I say.
I tumble into Zander’s arms.
“I can’t believe you’re back,” I cry. “We were just about to leave…”
“I said I’d return, sis,” he says. “Have I ever let you down?”
“No!” I laugh. “Never!”
“Well then…maybe you should trust me more.”
As I laugh, his eyes spread to the north of the church, where the large assembly awaits.
“Looks like I’ve missed a bit,” he says.
Then his eyes catch something, and his head swivels to the right, fifty or so metres along the edge of the woods. Right to the place where Burton died.
His Hawk-eyes zoom in and his eyebrows drop. He turns back to me and sees that my eyes are now hooded too.
“What happened?” he growls.
“Burton,” I say, “and four others….they were killed.”
“Killed? How?!”
“Woolf. We don’t know exactly. She took control of Rafe and they escaped together.”
A few heavy breaths escape him. His nostrils flare and hazel eyes burn. There’s a controlled rage in him that’s threatening to spill.
“I knew I should have killed her when I had the chance,” he grumbles through his teeth. “That…that witch…”
His fists clench. Burton must have been a good friend.
I wonder why they didn’t kill her when they could. Most likely because of the potential information they might find in her head. I guess she wasn’t considered a threat, locked away and blindfolded.