by T. C. Edge
I don’t know. But I will in a moment.
Rushing straight past my brother before he can answer, I hurry to the end of the building, leapfrogging the unconscious men at my feet, swinging my pulse rifle and ready to use it.
“What are you doing!” I hear Zander call.
I ignore him, my emotions boiling again. I dash for the edge of the building and slide into the open, setting my eyes forwards to the men coming our way.
Not technicians. Not City Guards. My final guess was right.
Ahead, less than fifty metres away, semi-concealed by the mighty facade of the macabre building to their right, I see a force of black-clad Stalkers. They press forward, walking mechanically, their faces hidden in shadow and eyes lit in the darkness.
For several days, we’ve fought alongside them. But now, here in this place, I suddenly feel in total peril. As Zander glides in beside me, and sees them too, we realise as one that we cannot stand this fight.
My anger is stayed, overcome by a sudden fear. If we stay, we die. And I’m not ready to lose my brother.
So in a moment of silent understanding, we turn, and we run.
Without thinking, we grasp at what energy we can draw up from the depths, and gallop like charging horses for the wall to the side of the compound. We have no need to climb. Not this time. Like many weeks ago, we find a watchtower, leap up the stairs, and reach the precipice within moments.
No delay. Nothing.
We jump, falling the twenty feet to the earth, legs digging into the mud and bodies tumbling into the ash. The mist remains, hovering, hiding us. It’s not thick like before, but it’s enough.
Without looking back, we enter the shroud and don’t stop until our lungs are on fire, and our legs are jelly, and our heads are spinning and threatening to go black. We run for minutes. I don’t know how many. Three. Five. Ten. It’s so hard to tell.
Only when we reach a glade do we stop, collapsing in the rare greenery, hidden from all sides and the blackened woods around us. With heaving lungs, I gasp into the earth, my entire body shaking, convulsing, the sudden change in motion spilling my guts.
I empty my already empty stomach, retching acid.
And then, before I discover that we were never even pursued, the darkness closes in, and my mind shuts off.
265
When I wake, the first question to hit my lips isn’t a question at all, but a flurry of mumbled gibberish. My eyes fly open and I find myself beneath the shade of my brother’s body, crouching over me and coaxing me back to consciousness.
“What…where…are they coming…”
I sit up and, in a panic, spread my gaze left and right. Zander calms me with a soothing voice.
“It’s OK. We weren’t followed. We’re fine, Brie.”
My panic is overtaken by confusion.
“Not followed?”
He shakes his head. By the looks of his face, still shining with sweat and red with exertion, it would appear as if I was only unconscious for a minute or so, perhaps even seconds.
“Certainly not this far. Whether they chased us over the wall, I don’t know. Maybe we lost them. Maybe they didn’t pursue us at all…”
I sit up, my heart still racing.
“You blacked out,” he informs me. “Just for a moment. We can rest a minute here. I think we’re safe.”
“Are you sure? What was all that, Zander. The Stalkers…they’re our enemy again now.”
He smiles comfortingly.
“We don’t know that for sure.”
“We do! You heard what Clive said. They’re just biding their time. When Cromwell drops the axe, all his remaining Stalkers in the city will take our people out. And whatever soldiers he’s hiding away will join in and finish the job! We need to get back. We can’t allow any of his people into Inner Haven!”
“Shhhh, Brie. Calm your voice, OK.” His eyes carefully check our surroundings once more.
“Zander! Why are you so casual about this?!”
“I’m not. I just know it’s important to stay calm. I’m sure you’re right, and yes, we need to make sure Inner Haven is locked down. But shouting about it out there isn’t going to help. Keep your voice down. Calm yourself.”
I take several deep breaths and try to do as he says. Yet all I can think about now are my friends over in Haven, walking into a trap.
“OK,” I whisper, overly quietly to make my point. “I’m calm. Now, screw resting. We don’t have time for it. We have to go…”
I try to stand, but immediately drop back into the mud. My spinning head won’t allow it. Half my vision is covered in white spots, and the other half seems likely to fade back to black at any moment.
“OK…maybe rest a minute,” I concede.
I shuffle up against a tree with Zander’s help, and he drops down beside me. There’s still a slight pant to his breath, and his eyes look more weary than ever. This rest probably suits him more than me.
Sitting side by side, I don’t speak for a few moments, drawing slow and steady breaths into my lungs. It takes a good few before my vision has corrected itself again, and my thrashing heart has decided to simmer down.
“How far are we from the city?” I ask once I’m ready, my words quiet now, dulled.
“Well, we ran at good speed for about five minutes. Covered a few miles, but it was kinda random. Didn’t make much headway for the wall. The REEF is ten miles out.”
“Great. So, where are we then?”
“We were moving northeast, I think. Closest to the western perimeter gate.”
“How far?”
“I’m not sure. Rough guess - eight or so miles at least. We’re in no state to do anything more than light jogging. And there could be Cure soldiers closer to the walls. It’ll take a while to get back.”
“How long?”
“Hours,” he says immediately.
“Damn,” I grunt. “We don’t have hours to waste.”
“We do, Brie. We have time. The fighting will likely go on for a while yet.”
“Doesn’t sound as bad as before,” I say, letting my ears fill with the hum of distant battle. “Do you…do you think we’re winning?”
He nods, looking out, but doesn’t turn to me.
“I think so.”
We sit for a while longer, both of us itching to get moving but simply unable to do so right now. The sun has now been blotted by the clouds, hiding behind a thick sludge of incoming grey that looks like it’ll only darken as the day goes on. Yet through the odd break, the sun’s light is visible, telling of the time. Midday has come and gone. We’re already moving towards early-mid afternoon. It seems as though we won’t be returning until evening time at the earliest.
As we wait, we confer again with calmer minds and voices, going over what we saw and heard. If we’re to sit here recharging for a few minutes, that time might as well be used effectively.
Zander sets about summing things up from his perspective. He lays it out clean and clear, his tone methodical and not growing emotional as I might.
“OK, here’s how I see it,” he says. “Cromwell left people at the REEF in secret. He clearly didn’t want us to know about them. We’ve all heard the rumours of a new force of soldiers being developed and trained there. This likely confirms it. While I’m not always keen on relying on a sole perspective, such as Clive’s, the evidence does point towards a impending betrayal.”
“Yes…yes…” I say, nodding along. “So we need to get back and warn everyone…”
“Easier said than done,” says Zander. “Unfortunately, our presence at the REEF will have been passed onto Cromwell. I had intended on wiping the guards’ minds, but we didn’t get a chance. And, those Stalkers saw us too. They will have to assume we’ve stumbled onto their secret. You can be sure that Colonel Hatcher and all the Stalkers still alive in Haven will be aware of it. The Con-Cops too. We can’t trust any of them anymore.”
“Jeez, this is bad. So, what the hell do we do? Hatcher…y
ou think he’d just betray us like that? You think maybe they’re already taking us out in the battle? You know, friendly fire…make it look accidental? Weaken us while also taking out the Cure.”
Zander fills and empties his lungs. I know he’s not one for rife speculation like this, but anything’s possible now.
“Maybe. And yes, Hatcher will betray us in a heartbeat if ordered to. He may appear more normal than the other Stalkers, but he’s just as committed to his master. If we’re right about this, then they’ll have plans in place to make their move soon. Inner Haven will be the goal. They’ll want to kill Lady…our grandmother.” He grimaces at the thought, then rights himself. “Kill her, and kill all our top members in Inner Haven. Then they’ll take it back from us, and Cromwell’s secret force will come and finish the job.”
I’m cranking up to my feet again, legs aching and head still a little sore.
“Then we have to go. We have to go now!” I say.
Zander stands too.
“That’s one possibility, Brie. That’s the worst case scenario. We might be wrong about it all. But…we have to work on the basis that we’re not.”
“Exactly. And for what it’s worth - and, yeah, I know I’m biased - but I think we’re right on the money. Our snake of a grandfather wants his Savants back. He wants his city back. And he’ll destroy anyone who stands in his way.”
I take a few steps to check my balance. My head still feels fuzzy, but I’ll have to walk it off. I’m not going to sit here any longer while my friends are in danger.
“You good to go?” asks Zander, looking a lot more steady than me. The depths of his energy staggers me. He’ll work himself to death if he’s not careful.
“Yeah. Are you? You haven’t slept in, what, two days? Are you sure you…”
“I’m fine,” he assures me. “I’ll rest when I’m back in Inner Haven. Getting there…well, that might not be so easy.”
“But we’ll make it,” comes my voice. Firm, assured. “We have to.”
“Then we will.”
We set off again, barely able to do more than a slow jog through the lifeless woods. We don’t need to worry about beasts and Shadows now. We don’t need to worry about running into some hostile tribe. Instead, it’s the soldiers of the Cure who control these spaces. And we have to be wary of Stalkers too.
Back to default, then. It didn’t last long, seeing the Stalkers as our allies. It feels far more natural fearing them, hiding from them, running from them. Strangely, the world seems as though it’s been set back into order. Enough of those men masquerading as the good guys. This is a straight out fight between good and evil now.
In a fashion, I feel vindicated too. Not once did I trust my grandfather. Not once did I truly believe he held good intentions for us. He’s had us wrapped around his little finger all along, manipulating all of this from afar. Who knows, maybe he’s even in cahoots with the Cure? Maybe he brought them here himself to take us out?
Such an idea might sound preposterous, but such are the lengths he’ll go to to take back the city, and take back his Savants, that it might just be possible too. Either way, we have no choice now but to gather our full strength in Inner Haven, shut out his men, and give ourselves the best shot of coming out of this alive.
But we need to be quick. Already, the orders might have been passed down. The Stalkers might be gathering in Outer Haven, moving for the walls to the inner city. The more of them who pass that threshold, the more vulnerable we become. One Stalker set loose within our ranks could be fatal. Should they make their way to the core of the city, Lady Orlando might be under threat.
Thankfully, she’s got Marler as protection, and plenty of other soldiers around the City Guard HQ too. But should a man like Hatcher wander in, he’d be seen only as an ally. He could cut them all down before they saw the danger. He could sever the head of our cause before we could do anything to stop it.
I worry about a great many things as we speed onwards. Hopefully, no Stalker will yet have crossed to Inner Haven. Their remit was never to do so, to stay where the fighting is thickest and put their considerable abilities to the task of defeating the Cure. Yet, we’ve been gone from the city for some time now. Who knows what might have happened since last night?
Such endless speculation isn’t helping. I know that. I dismiss all thoughts from my head, put some mental blocks in place to narrow my thinking and focus only on the task ahead. My natural proclivity for overthinking is doing nothing but draining my remaining energy. I’d be far better served saving it for my physical exertions, and not wasting in on my continuous mental wanderings.
Zander clearly knows how to block such things off. In fact, perhaps that’s one of the secrets to his supernatural levels of endurance. Best I take a leaf from his book. Best I focus only on what lies ahead.
We jog, walk and occasionally rush a little faster for a number of hours. Eight miles along a straight road at this pace wouldn’t be a problem. Here, in the outerlands, with the Cure an ever present threat, the going is naturally slower.
And the further we get towards the city walls, the more careful we have to be.
But soon, the walls are appearing in the distance, and we’re veering straight for the western perimeter gate. As the most well defended part of the city, it’s highly unlikely that any of the enemy will have attacked directly there. And so it turns out, a smoking section visible further towards the north, a billowing plume chugging into the air that tells of their way in.
We set our Hawk eyes to the task and, still about a mile out, clamber to a small knoll in order to get a better look. Across the tops, I scan for some sign of our own soldiers, but see none. Not at the western gate, nor along the wall to the north or south of it. The battlements are deserted, the guns no longer in use. It’s clear to us both that our people have abandoned the outer defences. The fighting will now be taking place deeper into the city itself, if not closer to the walls of Inner Haven.
And even within them.
“Which way do we go?” I ask Zander.
“Doesn’t look like the gate’s in operation,” he says. “We won’t be able to scale it like at the REEF, it’s far too high.”
“So the breach? Go the same way as the Cure?”
Our eyes move northwards, where the giant plume of smoke coughs up into the dark grey sky.
“Yes,” says Zander. “That’s our way in.”
266
We reach the breach about a half hour later, creeping through the black skeleton of the forest and carefully working towards the carnage. What we find is just like the breach we tried to defend in the south, a field sown with the dead. Outside the wall, several hundred Cure corpses lie. Inside, we find many of our own.
The wall itself, and many buildings behind, have been completely consumed. The plume of smoke, which appeared large from a distance, is positively gigantic up close. It swirls into the sky and joins the grey clouds, the thick soup above turning day to premature night. Yet, the difference from before is clear. The smoke no longer hangs and settles low, kept in place by the Elementals. It filters up naturally, dispersing far and wide. The streets ahead are now easier to see. The devastation is easier to witness.
We’re careful as we go, first moving towards the crumbled wall and checking inside, before gliding through the gap when we realise the coast is clear. It’s deserted of the living, populated by the dead. The muted light from above, and the clearing mist, gives shape to the terrible wreckage of the outer districts in the west.
Physical structures have been reduced to piles of rubble. Men and women have been reduced to piles of meat. The stink is already spreading, rotten flesh being picked up by the first batch of rats, so quick to be drawn to the buffet. It will keep them going for weeks, maybe months. Our friends here may never get proper burials.
The dead are mostly of the Cure. They pile high beyond the parapet, cannon fodder sent forward to test our defences and clear a path. No doubt an Elemental tore the stone
apart here, just as the man did over at the southern breach. We got him in the end. I wonder if Colonel Hatcher got his man too.
Inside the wall, however, the dead are mixed. I see Cure soldiers. I see City Guards. I see Nameless, and even a couple of Stalkers, their black robes so easy to spot. We step through them carefully, venturing eastwards as the sounds of battle once more grow distinct. And with the mist fading, the darkness spreading, the glow of orange, of a thousand fires across the city, hover atop buildings and fill the spaces between them.
The soundtrack isn’t as it was when we left the city last night. When we ventured to the outerlands through the underground river, the city was beset by a constant wailing. And the chatter of gunfire, and relentlessness of the explosions, was more regular and endless. Now, it has grown less regular, less loud. It suggests to me that most soldiers are now dead. That the fighting has quelled, reduced to smaller pockets.
And those pockets aren’t nearby.
We hear no gunfire within the surroundings streets. The closest appears to be quite a way away, somewhere nearer the inner districts here in the west. I turn to my brother, his ear for such things better than mine.
“Sounds as though they’re battling at the inner security cordons,” he says. “And dispersed through the streets around them.”
“So…you don’t think they’ve reached Inner Haven yet?” I ask hopefully.
“Hard to tell. I’d say it’s unlikely.”
Buoyed by the news, we press forwards, moving sleekly as a duo, watching each other’s backs for signs of the enemy. We consider looking for a radio station near the western gate, but conclude that the detour isn’t worth it. Instead, we set our sights due east, and cut a path straight there, searching for some sign of a radio as we go whenever we pass any of our downed soldiers.
The battle grows louder with every step we take. Everything seems to be centred closer to the core now, the Cure tightening their grip, surrounding our forces. The additional battalion we saw pass by in the outerlands will have added their considerable weight. It’s possible others were added via the breaches in the south and northeast too.