by T. C. Edge
Sophie nods quickly, and smiles, her old self flashing.
“So, did you come here to tell us that?”
“Erm, I guess, partly. But mainly to get some rest. Zander ordered it.”
“Yes, you look like you need it. How about you take my bed. I’ll be sure to wake you if anything happens.”
“I was gonna say. Thanks, Sophie.”
“OK, this way, darling.”
I’m led up the stairs and onto the landing, West coming along for the ride as if keen to complete his escort until I’m nicely settled. Sophie’s room, at the end of the corridor, is no longer just for her. There are a number of beds and mattresses there, apparently used by the other women tasked with managing the Fangs.
“That one’s mine,” she says, pointing to a proper bed, pushed up against the wall in the far corner. “So, Zander knows you’re here? I assume he’ll radio us if he needs you?”
“I assume so,” I say tiredly, although do wonder if this is my brother’s way of pushing me back from the fight and keeping me from harm’s way. Old habits die hard, after all.
Sophie looks to West.
“Um, West…come now, let’s leave Brie to get her rest.”
West nods and smiles shyly at me, before slipping from the room.
“So, I’ll wake you in, what, three hours?” asks Sophie.
“Make it two,” I say. “I need to get back as soon as possible.”
“Two it is.”
She smiles, shuts the door, and leaves me in silence. Or, at least, the best approximation of silence given the interminable wailing. I move straight for her bed and sit down, hardly realising that I’m sprinkling soot all over the sheets. I lie down, slowly, and shut my eyes, my mind flashing with images and ears still throbbing hard.
I could do with a pill to help me sleep, or else one to stave off this headache. Or better yet, I could do with having Adryan here, tucked up behind me, arm over my waist, breath warming the back of my neck.
I wonder, even though I’m only a couple of miles away from him right now, whether I’ll ever see him again. Will I ever see Brenda and Tess? Will I see my grandmother again? Or little Abby? Or even Drum, perhaps only a few streets away with his unit.
Who knows, maybe I’ll never even see my twin brother again. Perhaps I’ll drop off to sleep right now, and be shaken awake by Sophie to the news that the wall has been breached in the south. That the Cure have swarmed in like the plague of vermin they really are. That Zander, trying to defend the city, exhausted from the night’s exertions, has fallen. And the rest of us are soon to follow.
I lie there with those thoughts in my head and all I want is to get back out there. I don’t want to lie here, away from it all. I don’t want to sleep and miss a beat. I want to die on my feet, fighting, and not wake to learn that the city has already fallen.
But what I want isn’t relevant to the physical needs of my body. The thoughts flow consciously, before the curtain closes and I drop away into dreams and my mental wanderings are taken on by my subconscious mind instead. I only know that I’ve caught a bit of time behind my lids when I feel my body shaken, and my eyes crack open.
It isn’t Sophie who stands above me, but a far different figure. The bearded, shaven headed form of Rhoth materialises from the silhouette as I blink several times, quickly working out just where I am and what’s going on.
When I do, it comes in a flash. I sit straight up on the bed and ask, “What time is it?! How long was I out?”
“It’s evening time,” says Rhoth as the ceaseless wailing once more filters into my ears. “You have been asleep for several hours…”
“Several? I told Sophie only two.”
“Several. Two. No difference. What matters is, do you feel better?”
“Yeah, better,” I say, standing. “I need to get back.”
“Yes, of course you do,” says Rhoth. “Perhaps I come too, bring my hunters with me. We don’t like sitting here, waiting for the fight to come to us.”
“I fear you won’t have to wait too long, Rhoth,” I say. “Have you heard any developments from the front?”
“Nothing,” he grunts. “No one tells us anything here. More gunfire and explosions…and that horrible sound. Been the same all night and day.”
“OK, well I think you deserve to know,” I say, drawing a smoky breath of air. “The Cure are testing for weaknesses in the wall and trying to exhaust us. This is worse than we thought it would be. They’ll break through sooner or later, and most likely the former. Is it dark outside yet?”
“Dusk. Darkness is coming. Smoke is turning black again.”
“Then it’ll happen soon I think. You say you’re not being told anything here. That’s because the military are too busy defending the wall from all sides. You can’t rely on them for information. I think…I know it’s time for you to move back.”
“Move back?” questions Rhoth. “No, we move forward to fight, not back.”
I shake my head.
“No, you need to get your old and young to safety first. If the Cure breach the walls, it’ll be too dangerous here. You need to get them behind the walls to Inner Haven. It’s much safer there.”
“They told us that the order would come for that when needed…”
“Yeah, I know. But they didn’t expect all this. I’m making the decision myself. I’m giving the order myself. Get your people to the southern gate to Inner Haven. Then, if you and your hunters want to fight, feel free to join us…”
Rhoth begins to nod, and eyes me with a smile creasing across his lips. They peel back, revealing those fangs of his, filed sharp.
“The girl has become a soldier and warrior…and now a commander. You and your brother are so very alike.”
I take it as a firm compliment, especially from Rhoth.
“Then you’ll do as I say?”
“I will. If you think it’s best, Brie, then I will escort my people to your inner city. But me and my hunters will not cower there. We will offer what help we can give. We will get revenge for all those lost.”
I raise a hand, stretching it out to lay it on his shoulder.
“I’d expect nothing less from you, mighty Rhoth.”
Together, we head down the stairs to spread the word. Rhoth begins updating his people on the plan, and I hunt down Sophie to update her too.
“Oh, thank goodness,” she says. “I was hoping for the order to come through. Who gave it? Rycard? I didn’t realise you had a radio on you…”
She inspects my clothes with a frown.
“No radio, Soph,” I say. “The order, well…the order has come from me. I’ve got a feeling that you won’t be safe here for long. Better to get to safety now while you can.”
“Right, yes…of course. We all trust you, Brie. I’ll make arrangements immediately.”
“Good. Do you have vehicles here?”
“No. Well, just a couple of cars. Not enough to transport the people.”
“Right, go on foot. There’s time. But, if you could drive me back to the front first, that would be useful. I’d rather get there as quickly as possible.”
“Of course, Brie. I have my car. No trouble. Just give me a few moments to update the girls.”
“Sure, I’ll be outside.”
I move through the building, passing Rhoth again on the way.
“I’m heading back, Rhoth. I’ll see you again, I’m sure.”
“Yes, we will see each other, Brie. Good luck.”
“And to you.”
I leave him to organise his people and move back onto the street. West is absent this time, other Fangs now on duty. Immediately, the wailing grows louder, and I see that the light is fading once more, darkening the swamp of smoke.
And within the growing gloom, I feel a sense of urgency fill me. Tonight, I know, I won’t be getting any more sleep…
248
Sophie’s car isn’t the same one she used to drive. Because, well, that one she didn’t have to driv
e at all. As a driverless vehicle, we never had to do anything but sit in the back and be chauffeured where we wanted on command. Now, however, the car she’s been given requires a little more manual input.
It’s immediately obvious to me that she has little experience behind the wheel. Even though the vehicle is automatic and doesn’t require complicated gear changes, she still has some trouble navigating us down the streets, driving rather more slowly than I’d like and nervously taking us around any debris blocking our path.
We work our way further south towards the wall, the beating drums of war still sounding all over, and that incessant wailing growing more aggressive the closer to the ramparts we get.
“I don’t know how you can bear it at the front line,” she says, wincing at the sound. “I can barely hear myself think.”
“Exactly. These so-called barbarians are smart. You don’t have to take me right to the front, don’t worry, Soph. Drop me a few blocks back and then get to Inner Haven as quick as you can with the Fangs.”
“Are you sure? I can go to the gate if you want?”
The brittle nature of her voice suggests it’s an offer she’d prefer me not to accept. I don’t. There’s no need for her to venture right to the line, and in any case, there’s someone I want to see on the way.
Several blocks back, Drum’s unit is posted. He’s part of a security cordon along one of the main roads heading inward, the likely path of any major assault should the Cure breach the walls nearby. Seeing as I’m passing close by, and this might be my last chance to see him, I’m not going to let the opportunity slip away.
I ask for Sophie to stop just before the cordon, and she does so without hesitation. I hug her tight and reiterate once more the need to get back to Inner Haven as soon as possible. She wishes me luck, probably quite aware than I’ll need it, and shoots straight off before her façade can crack.
I watch her go for a moment, then turn my eyes on the large presence of soldiers up the street. They’re well fortified, with a number of blockades in place, fixed machine gun positions, snipers on rooftops and in windows and drones hovering about in the sky.
Though visibility remains poor, it’s not quite as bad here as at the wall. I imagine the snipers can see further, and any potential attacks this way won’t be quite such a surprise. The drones, too, will be quite capable of signalling alarms to present some warning. Hopefully the same is true throughout Outer Haven, the many major streets well watched and marshalled.
I head for the force of soldiers, at least two or three hundred of them stationed here, with the capability of defending adjoining streets if necessary. A good proportion of them appear to be Con-Cops, but there are many garbed in the dark armour of the City Guards too, and a number of Nameless soldiers sprinkled in among them.
There might even be a hybrid or two, or perhaps a couple of Stalkers here. Mostly, I know our most powerful soldiers are on the front line, but major intersections like this also require a great deal of protection. It’s to these battlements that our men will fall back if required to. The standing army here will, therefore, be significantly bolstered when the time comes.
It’s a member of the City Guard who commands this force, and I see him as I approach, chatting down the radio in a little field camp off to one side. I choose not to disturb him, but search immediately for Drum, his size usually enough to point him out from the crowd.
Today, with the air being so smoky, that isn’t so easy. And unusually, Drum isn’t the largest person here. I spot several other towering figures, massive Brutes with their exoskeleton armour, fixed with miniguns and other potent firearms. Drum certainly won’t be kitted out the same. Compared to them, he’s rather small, and certainly isn’t experienced enough to be trusted with such weaponry.
Instead, I find him towards the rear, watching a side-street with several other men. They sit behind metal shelters, capable of withstanding most types of ballistics, little to do but wait for the war to come to them.
I approach Drum through the fog, and this time refuse to treat him as a soldier. Instead, I treat him as the dear friend he is, the adopted younger brother he is, and wrap my arms straight around his massive trunk before he can deny me. I feel his strong arms rest gently against my back, before his grip slowly grows stronger.
“Are you OK?” I ask weakly.
I draw away from him and look up into his big face. I still hate seeing him here, with this patchwork of armour on his body, and this rifle in his arms. Drum is too gentle for this life. He should be back at Compton’s Hall with the others…
But then, that’s the old Drum. He’s changed now, and I have to accept that. What sort of a man would he be if he were hiding there with the kids, and not out here, ready to protect them? No, that wouldn’t suit him at all. Whether I like it or not, he’s best served out here, putting himself on the line like so many others, even those of his same callow years.
His answer, when it comes, isn’t verbal. He merely frowns a little, as if the other solders are watching, and then nods. Only after I’ve let him go does he grunt, “I’m good.”
“Rested? Did you get any sleep?”
“Some,” he admits. “We’ve been taking watches.”
I don’t tell him that doing so is sort of pointless right now. Until the enemy get into the city, there’s nothing to watch out for. Then again, what the hell do I know? This is just as new for me as it is for him. I may have some useful powers and gifts, but I hardly know what I’m talking about when it comes to battle tactics and soldiery.
In fact, I’m fairly certain that, while I worry about Drum, he probably does the same for me. I’m only a couple of years older than him, after all. I guess I forget that sometimes…
“You heading back to the wall?” he asks me.
I nod.
“I need to stay near Zander.”
“Right, of course. Be careful out there, Brie. It seems like the fighting’s getting more intense. I don’t think the wall will be able to hold out much longer.”
“It won’t,” I admit.
“And we’re not sending soldiers out to stop them?”
“We can’t, Drum. Zander says it’s too dangerous. I saw what they could do in the woods. We have to make our stand here.”
Drum nods his great head, his solid chin, sprouting the odd hair, dipping up and down.
“I suppose we have no choice. Some of the men want to get out there and fight, though. When the battle comes here, we’ll be ready. We want them to come here. We dare them.”
“Good attitude,” I say, smiling. Not condescendingly. No, I’m done with that. Just supportively. “We all need to do our bit.”
Even you…
I don’t linger much longer. Hugging Drum again, once more against his will, though more briefly this time, I leave him without any further words. Only a smile is needed, and a glint in the eye to tell him unequivocally that we’re going to win this damn thing.
Then, slipping back into the fog, I head off down the street, only looking back once I’ve turned a corner. I look to see Drum retaking his position, vigilant in his task as he gazes off down the street, ready and waiting to do his part.
“Goodbye, Drum,” I whisper, blinking a burgeoning tear from my eye. “Please be safe.”
Then, with that final look, I twist and dash away, setting my mind back on my brother. I rush through the security cordon and up the street, drawing the eyes of all soldiers in the area, and feel the atmosphere of dread that fills the air.
Yet that dread is suffocated by another emotion. Anger. A fury that flows through the blood of all the assembled men and women. A collective hate for those who come to kill us, and our friends, and our families.
It is a powerful emotion indeed, and one that serves us all well. When you need that extra push, that extra ten per cent in the fight, anger and hatred will often supply it.
And while this army of the Cure comes to pillage and destroy, we are here to protect and defend. And that, too,
is a more powerful motivator.
So through I go, rushing on, my presence helping to inspire in a manner similar to my brother. Some will look at me and see him, their young commander who has accomplished so much, who has such great power within his veins. Yet others will be inspired by me, for me alone. For the things I can do too, and the whirlwind my life has become.
From normal cleaner girl, just an orphan in Outer Haven, I have become a leading figure in this city. A shining light for others to follow. My story is one of triumph against adversity, a girl rising to meet her destiny.
And tonight, perhaps, that destiny will unfold. Will I die, along with everyone else? Will I live, and see others I love fall?
I do not know. I can’t know.
Only time will reveal my path.
249
As I rush the few remaining blocks towards the southern gate, passing by crippled buildings and through war-torn streets, the sound of wailing, gunfire, and explosions grows ever louder.
With the sky beyond the smog now turning dark once again, the lights of the pulse rifles, spitting in the distance, begin to grow clear. Reds and blues and greens collaborate to paint a haunting and yet beautiful picture as I move swiftly to the wall. They colour the smoke and join together, forming other hues within the mist that seems to contrast so strikingly with the booming sounds of war.
Death, it seems, can be beautiful. War is nothing but a brutal symphony.
When I finally reach the gate, I’m quick to march straight for the control room. I find it as I left it, filled with soldiers zipping here and there, the war effort down here along the southern perimeter coordinated from this room.
And over in the west, it will be Commander Burns and Rycard leading the charge. And in the north, that role will be taken by Colonel Hatcher. Here, however, it is Zander who commands our men, liaising constantly with the other leaders dotting the city as he bids to ensure our defence holds.
I charge straight for him, desperate to hear any updates.