by T. C. Edge
That’s all I get.
“Thank you, sir,” I say, before heading straight out of the large double doors.
The morning air is still dusty, trillions of tiny, invisible particles and grains teaming up to create a cloud that continues to hover over the main platform and street right at the city’s core. It will take time to settle, the falling of the High Tower creating a coating of the stuff that’s now colonising just about every street in a two mile radius.
It makes visibility poor, not helped by the dark cloudy skies above. Through the fog, I search ahead and note that several hundred people continue to pick at the remains of the High Tower, removing the dead and searching for the living. It will be a long job that will last days and perhaps weeks, but one that needs to be done.
There are a fair number of soldiers around too, mostly ours by the looks of their outfits. However, among them I see City Guards, adorned in their distinguished uniforms and gathering into a troop. Among them, two giant frames stand out.
I rush over and find that they belong to Titus and Magnus, the Brute brothers having made it here safe and sound. They look like they’ve been through it, though, their uniforms grimy and large faces peppered with soot. By my reckoning, neither have slept.
“You got here then?!” I say, dancing forward.
Magnus notices me first, his tablet-like teeth showing up well against his soot-darkened skin. “Sure did,” his voice rumbles, spreading across the morning air.
“Looks like you brought a few friends with you too,” I say, surveying the gathering of their colleagues. “Did they take much convincing?”
It’s Titus who answers.
“Not from us,” he says. “Your rebel leader did that herself. I sure would like to meet her.”
“And I’m sure you will. So good to have you with us, though.”
I smile, and even draw one from Titus’ lips.
Then, another voice sings from my right, and I turn to see the half-Hawk face of Rycard coming into view through the smog.
“It sure is,” he says. “And they’re still coming. We’ve had a couple hundred come through the gates already, with more still pouring in. Some are taking longer to come round, but the tide is definitely turning.”
“I guess it’s some vindication for you,” I say to Rycard. “Seeing all these City Guards follow in your footsteps.”
“Just a matter of showing them the light,” he says. “Some take more convincing, and that’s where I come in. I know a lot of them, and have been given command of their transition. All I have to do is talk about the attack on the market, and they’re on board. Lots of them lost friends that day.”
I look to the Brute brothers again, who nod solemnly.
“It’s unforgivable,” growls Titus.
“Completely unforgivable,” adds his younger brother.
“So how about you? You guys know each other?”
“We’ve crossed paths,” says Rycard. “I mean, look at the size of them…they’re not exactly easy to miss.”
His good eye glints.
“Yeah, well Rycard here is more forgettable,” retorts Magnus with a lopsided grin. “At least, he was until he got that fetching eye patch.”
Rycard laughs, seemingly coming to terms with his disability. Until now, it’s hardly hindered him. He’s been fully involved with the Nameless since he joined up, and now seems to have been given the control of the City Guard too.
Quite the promotion. And well deserved.
“So, what’s going on then?” I ask, looking around at the continual movement of troops. “Looks like we’re mobilising.”
“Not the whole army,” says Rycard. “Just squads. There are pockets of Con-Cops causing havoc around the streets, killing people as they try to reach the gates. We have to protect them.”
“Yeah, we saw the same when we came here yesterday,” I say. “Is it bad?”
“Pretty bad. Hundreds have been killed already. Others are just staying in their homes because they’re too afraid to leave.”
“We took down quite a few on the way here,” says Titus. “Escorted a whole bunch of civilians, a lot of them from the concert hall, and got them here safe. The Con-Cops are dumb, but fearless. They don’t care if they lose their lives, and don’t care about taking them either.”
“Well, where’s my brother?” I ask. “And Kira…I was told she was out here?”
“She is, over there,” says Rycard, pointing down the street. “More squads are being prepared. I saw Zander about too, think they’re heading out momentarily.”
“Not without me they’re not!” I say. “I’ll see you guys later…”
I twist on the spot and leave them there, heading straight for my roommate. As I reach her, Zander appears as if from nowhere, swishing from the dusty gloom, fully locked and loaded and ready to go.
“You’re heading out?” I ask. They both spin to look at me. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up? What, you think you can just leave without me, is that it?”
“Thought you needed some rest,” says Zander flatly. “We have plenty of soldiers now. We don’t need you.”
I lift up my brows.
“You don’t need me? Wow, that’s hurtful.”
“Come on, sis, you know what I mean. It’s simple search and destroy squads. We’re dealing with Con-Cops only, with perhaps the odd City Guard troop loyal to Cromwell. Take the day off. Hang out with your friends.”
“Zander, that’s ridiculous. I can’t just chill out here when people are being killed out there. I’m coming too.”
“You don’t need…”
“I’m coming too,” I repeat.
He stares at me for a little while, and then glances at Kira. She smirks at the exchange.
“It’s fine by me,” she says. “Your sis can handle herself from what I’ve seen.”
I perform a grateful little bow in her direction.
“Thank you. Nice to know that someone believes in me.”
“Always,” winks Kira. “We girls have to stick together.”
Zander rolls his eyes.
“Fine, if that’s what you want. I just thought this soldiering stuff wasn’t for you.”
“Maybe it’s growing on me,” I say.
“Yeah, and growing fast,” Kira says. “Honey, the way you dealt with those Con-Cops yesterday…I’d say you’re getting used to it.”
“When in Rome,” I say.
Both of them frown.
“Rome?” asks Kira.
“Jeez, do neither of you know any history? It’s an old city across the sea. It’s just a phrase. Anyway, I’m just saying that, during war, I’ll be a warrior if I have to be. Needs must, I guess.”
“Good philosophy,” says Kira. “Big bro here enjoys it, though.”
“You do too, I can tell,” I say.
“Brie! STOP getting in people’s heads!” reprimands Zander.
“I’m not, I swear. Come on, it’s obvious that you both thrive on this stuff. I’m not judging or anything. You grew up with it, so fair enough. War needs people like you.”
Zander doesn’t appear to enjoy the intimation. Kira, on the other hand, appears all too happy about it. She’s to the manor born, trained to scout, spy, and kill. And she’s mastered all three.
“Right, well we’re taking that City Guard vehicle over there. It was just going to be Kira and me, but I guess you can tag along too as well,” says Zander.
He still seems slightly annoyed at me. Perhaps for last night, I can’t really tell. Or maybe it’s simply the fact that he operates better when I’m not around, not having to be concerned for my safety. Were I to quickly check his thoughts, I’d get my answer.
But no, I guess that’s off the table right now.
Certainly, though, the two super-hybrids like to operate either alone or in very small groups. While other squads set out in larger numbers, Zander and Kira, with me tagging along, head straight for our car without any backup.
I guess, give
n their power sets, they can work quicker as a pair, moving around the city at speed and covering far more ground than if they were burdened by others.
And, I suppose I fall into that ‘others’ bracket. While I have the same powers as Zander, I don’t exactly have his fitness or durability yet. I can tell immediately that this is going to be a long and tiring day.
We move to the car and step in. Kira slides into the backseat along with me. Zander sits up front and takes the wheel.
“Ready?” asks Zander from the front.
“Always,” says Kira, green eyes flashing.
And off we go to hunt and kill.
191
I spend the short car journey getting more information about any overnight developments. First, I question how the scouts that were sent out have gotten along.
“No feedback yet,” announces Zander, zipping along the roads. “We’ve lost contact with a few already. Signs aren’t good.”
“Lost contact? As in, they’ve been taken out?”
“Most likely.” His reply is deadpan, as if he expected it. Losing scouts during war is oh-so-commonplace that it doesn’t even warrant a raising of the voice. “It suggests that Cromwell is holing out in the REEF,” he goes on. “His Stalkers are probably wiping out anyone who gets too close.”
“So, an attack is out of the question then?” I ask.
“On the REEF? Yeah, that wouldn’t be a good idea right now. We’ve been there before, right? We know what it’s like.”
“So what is it like?” asks Kira. “I’ve never been out that way.”
“Like a stronghold,” I say. “Horrible place, and easily defended.”
“And not easy to attack,” adds Zander. “We’ve won our position here through trickery and secrecy more than anything. An all out strike isn’t in anyone’s best interests.”
“Sounds like you might want to negotiate?” I query. “You reckon Lady Orlando would go that far, given her past with Cromwell?”
“She’s a leader, and will do whatever is best for the people,” says Zander. “Whether entering into negotiations for a cease-fire is among them, I don’t know.”
“It’s mad, though, right?” says Kira. “Lady Orlando being married to Director Cromwell back in the day. Did you know that, Z-man?”
My brother shakes his head at the front, and his foot stamps a little harder on the accelerator.
“She never told me.”
I stay quiet. I’m probably the only person who actually knew, not that I want my twin to know that.
“She really kept that one quiet,” continues Kira. “To think, the leaders on either side of the war are old husband and wife. I mean, talk about keeping it in the family,” she laughs. “No wonder Lady O hates him so much!”
“It’s not about that, Kira,” grunts Zander. He’s being pretty serious today, more so than usual. I mean, that’s fair enough, but he just seems to be in a pretty rotten mood. “Lady Orlando won’t allow personal feelings to influence her.”
“I guess. But still…”
She looks at me and lifts her brows. I present a smile to say I’m on the same wavelength as her. We decide, secretly, to change the subject, given Zander’s apparent dislike of the current one.
“So what about Rhoth?” I ask. “He still being his unbearable self this morning, demanding we fight his war for him?”
“Nothing more on that,” says Zander flatly. “I only told you last night.”
“Yeah, well, things move quickly around here. Jeez, you wake up on the wrong side of the bed today or something?”
“Bed? What bed,” he says. “I barely slept at all.”
Ah, hence the awful, snappy mood. My insistence on coming on this Con-Cop hunt probably hasn’t helped either.
“Right,” I say.
Then the car goes silent.
We continue towards the gate, heading once more to the west. As we go, I begin chatting directly with Kira instead, just to ease the growing awkwardness in the car.
Mostly, it’s a running commentary on what we’re seeing out of the window that occurs. And there’s lots to see, with a whole host of civilians being marched along in groups, flanked by our men and some of the new City Guards joining our cause.
It’s a full on humanitarian crisis that’s going to require all hands on deck. That includes the civilian residents of Inner Haven, already helping clear the rubble, who’ll need to help house, feed, and water all the Outer Haveners now too.
Soon, perhaps, such terms will fade away. Outer Haveners. Inner Haveners. I guess the plan is to eventually scrap such distinctions and blur the lines between us all. Who knows, maybe even the general names we give ourselves will disappear. No more Enhanced and Unenhanced. Just people, whether ‘gifted’ or not, living as one big happy family.
Yeah, right. I’m not so naïve as to think that will happen.
Yet, the tide is definitely turning, as Rycard said. Whatever happens next, this city will never be the same again. And neither will the people who inhabit it.
As we reach the western gate, we find an ever-increasing glut of people. Pens have been set up just inside, beyond the gates and the large blocking trucks, in order to ensure that order is kept as the people are processed and integrated into the city.
It needs to be this way. Anything else would be too much of a mess, and by the looks of things we’re already being stretched to breaking point.
“Looks like Lady O’s speech had more of an impact than we thought it would,” remarks Kira. “Can we handle all these people?”
“We have to,” says Zander, rejoining the conversation after a little sulk. “We made promises.”
“Good thing we have City Guards joining up too,” I say. “So, Rycard said he’s been put in charge of them. What is he, like the new Commander or something.”
“Well, he doesn’t have a title like that, but yeah, in a manner of speaking. Lady Orlando thought he was best placed to integrate them, given his background.”
“Good idea,” I say. “Once he’s built up a big enough force, maybe it should be him who goes out and collects the people from the mines. Lord knows he’ll be happy to do it, given how Sophie and Maddox are there…”
“Afraid not,” answers my brother immediately. “The City Guard are sworn to protect the city, not go marching outside of it. If we decide to take action and form as escort for the mines, we’ll have to do it with our own men, or those who volunteer.”
“Yeah, and what’s the latest on that one?” asks Kira.
I’m glad it’s her, and not me. I can already sense Zander’s short answer coming.
“It’s in discussion,” he says, a little more softly to her than he might have done to me. “Pearson is keeping a close watch on the surrounding areas with the hybrids he has. There’s a good chance that Cromwell isn’t even aware of them. And if he is, he may or may not bother trying to reach them, not with his own resources being squeezed.”
I hope he’s right. How awful would it be for them to suffer that horrible journey through the wilds, only to be hunted down and slaughtered by a team of Stalkers.
But then, war isn’t fair. Death isn’t fair. I’ve learned that lesson several times already.
It takes a little while for us to navigate through the burgeoning crowd around the gate, so much so that Kira suggests we get out right here and continue on foot.
“We’d travel quicker using our Dasher powers anyway,” she says, before glancing at me. “Ah, maybe not.”
“Hey…”
“Ah, honey, no offence. You’re just as quick but just, you know, not as fit yet. You’d lose steam too quickly.”
“Yeah, hence us travelling by car,” says Zander. He says it in such a way as to give me absolute confirmation that he doesn’t want me along for the ride. “Anyway, we’ll go a bit further first. We’ll be starting in district 3 of the western quarter. Apparently there’s a load of them there.”
“And are they still mainly in the eastern qu
arter?” I query. “Last I heard they were all bunched up over there.”
“Lots are, yeah,” says Zander. “But pockets remain here and there. It should be a simple enough job. We’ll sweep through, street by street, and take down any we see. No hesitation, just kill them whether they fire on us or not.”
He glances back to me, as if suggesting I might, in fact, hesitate.
I assure him, in no uncertain terms, that those days are behind me.
“We might also run into some City Guards,” adds Kira. “Not all are as morally well-adjusted as those big ol’ Brutes you know. Lots are too ingrained into Cromwell’s philosophy and will try to keep hold of the streets for him.”
“And no hesitation with them either,” says Zander. “Anyone who doesn’t comply is our enemy, got it?”
“I got it, boss,” I say, a little snarkily.
Frankly, while I generally look upon City Guards as good folk, those who refuse to turn are perhaps too long gone for me. And, I have experience of those more sinister types too. I only have to think of the ones who escorted me to the REEF after my High Tower incarceration for that.
We move up through district 1 of the western quarter, heading straight for district 3 in the northwest. As we go, the streets take a new shape, even worse than they were the previous day.
The corpses that appear begin to rival what I witnessed in the northern quarter. And, worst of all, they seem to be predominantly civilian casualties, shot dead as they tried to make for the western gate.
The wreckages of cars are also prominent, many still burning and with the dead still inside. At certain points, I see gridlock, dozens of cars caught bunched up as they tried to weave their way towards Inner Haven.
Those that aren’t burning, and don’t entomb the dead, have been abandoned, the people choosing to brave the streets on foot and, most likely, return to their homes or any nearby shelter they can find. Along the way, I spy some people still hiding, individuals, couples, and little groups trying to sneak from alley to alley, work towards the sanctuary at the centre of the city.
We can’t stop to help them, despite wishing to. These streets have been cleared now, and they should have a free run for the gate. The distant chatter of gunfire, however, alerts us to the fact that nearby districts are still being swept, our men working through the morning to make them safe.