by T. C. Edge
The mention of Adryan’s name serves to calm the growing inferno inside me. My eyes fall to my toes, and I feel Zander stepping towards me, his voice growing softer.
“We can go far from here,” he whispers. “All of us. Adryan, Brenda, Tess, Abby…our grandmother. Surely…that’s better than going out there to die? For what? You can still have a long life, Brie. There’s still that chance.”
His words settle, fading into the room before all goes silent. I feel the energy draining from me, a terrible choice at hand. I look up into his eyes, hazel, identical to mine, and see them pleading for me to agree, to relent.
But, somewhere inside me, something still stirs. I think of all our soldiers out there, fighting on, giving up the same chance to live beyond this day. I think of their faces, harrowed by it all, but determined to take one more life, to save one more life. I think of how guilty I felt when I left them barely an hour ago, when I retreated, hurrying to safety when they had no such chance.
Can I abandon them all again?
Can I abandon Drum, and the Fangs, all drawn to this fight against their will, to such an awful fate? Could I live with myself if I stayed here, knowing the sacrifice that others have made? Beckett and Freya and Magnus and Rycard…all dead already. All lost to this war.
I consider the question, and my instincts inform the answer. Again, that need to fight swells within me. That need to get back out there, to help where I can.
I look again at my brother, and my voice is calm when I speak.
“I’m sorry, Zander,” I say. “I have to go back out there. I have to find Drum. I have to fight. I have to…”
He lifts a hand to cool my tongue. His eyes lower, and his chin dips into a single nod.
“I understand,” he whispers. “Then I’m coming too.”
“No…you don’t have to…”
“Brie,” he says, cutting me off. “You’re right. I just…I’ve always wanted you to be safe. I searched for you for years, and ever since I found you, I’ve put you in terrible danger…”
“Zander…”
“Please, let me finish.” He clears his throat. “I know, with everything that’s happened, you’d have been in danger anyway. I know that full well. But still, it pains me every time we go into a fight. Every time, I grow terrified something will happen. So now, here you are, so brave, wanting to go out there and help. And here I am, terrified again. But, I also know that you’re right. We can’t stay here, not when our men are out there.”
He smiles, and steps to the side, scooping up a couple of grenades to fix to his belt.
“We’re going to go out there, and give them hell one final time,” he says, his voice growing firm and decisive once more. “We’re going to do whatever we can to delay them. We’re going to find our friends, and hold back the storm. And when the time comes, we’re going to escape this damn city before it comes crumbling down.”
He returns to me, fully loaded, and sets his gaze to mine.
“I’m not going to let you die today, Brie. We’re going to kill as many damn Cure as we can. And then we’re going to save as many of our soldiers as we can too. Now, how the hell does that sound to you?”
He smiles bright, a keen glint in his eye. I fix my eyes to his, and begin to nod.
“That sounds just about perfect,” I say.
“Good. Then let’s get this done.”
We return to the hall, armed to the teeth, emerging from the back. I find our grandmother’s eyes swaying towards us, what remains of her grey eyebrows pinching together at the sight of us fully armed and set for battle. Zander marches straight for her, back to his decisive best.
“Brie and I are going back out there,” he says defiantly.
Lady Orlando’s lips part, her eyes wishing to deny us. Zander stops her.
“Please, Cornelia, don’t speak. We are going, because we must. Continue with the evacuation as scheduled. We’ll make sure as many soldiers as possible escape from the lines.”
He takes a long look at her, and then steps in and kisses her cheek tenderly.
“We will see each other again,” I hear him whisper. “I’ve always thought of you as a mother. But now I know…who you really are.”
He smiles softly, holding her withered hands between his. Her eyes widen, tears gathering. I watch as her lips try to croak out some words, but they stay caught in her throat, unheard.
He steps away, and her eyes follow. Then they swing to me as Zander moves off into the room.
“He…he knows?” she finally croaks.
I nod.
“He found out several days ago.”
I see her eyes chase him down again, crinkling in worry. I draw her gaze back with soothing words, and take possession of her hand.
“He isn’t angry,” I whisper. “He understands why you never told him. He…he loves you dearly, grandma.” I smile. “And so do I.”
Her visage threatens to collapse, to fully break down. The gathering tears slip from the corners of her eyes, meandering down through the wrinkles of her cheeks.
“Don’t go, Brie,” she croaks. “You don’t have to go.”
I shut my eyes and nod.
“We do. We have no choice, grandma. None of us have a choice now.”
I step backwards, her hand slipping from mine.
“We’ll see you soon,” I smile. “We’ll see you soon.”
I turn, my own emotions fraying, before she can speak again. I mute her voice as it calls for me, and hurry away towards my brother. He’s speaking with several technicians, hearing the latest updates, and informing Commander Burns of our plan. I hover nearby, Adryan off to one side. He’s busy on the radio, looking the other way.
I take a half step towards him, and stop.
I can’t bear it now. To hear him try to ask me to stay. To say goodbye for what might be the last time. I can’t, I just can’t.
I turn away from him, and look towards the door. The night is gathering pace, darkness storming forward. The last night, leading to the long night. I may never see the light of day again.
I hear the conversation with Commander Burns ending. My brother calls me over, and I step over to join them.
“You’re brave beyond measure, Brie,” says Burns. “Please accept my apologies if I was short with you earlier.”
“No…no apologies necessary, Leyton. I should apologise for questioning you.”
“Not at all. You have a heart of gold, and a mind for helping people whenever you can. I think you’ve proven that enough.” He smiles and pulls me into a hug. Again, the contact forces my emotions to crack further, the fissures growing wide. “I hope to see you again, dear Brie.”
I withdraw, sucking in a long breath, and turn to Zander.
“We should go,” I whisper, desperate to get out before I crumble completely.
He nods, and shakes Burns’ hand, and together we stride straight for the large double doors. I’m ten paces away, when through the din, I hear my name being called out.
“Brie…Brie, where are you going?!”
I don’t stop. I don’t turn.
Zander slows, but I hurry faster.
“Don’t,” I say. “I…I can’t.”
He seems to understand, and marches quicker to keep pace. The fresh air of the street outside fills my nose, and the drums of war, away in the distance, beat louder.
As they do, Adryan’s voice, still calling my name, fades away.
And stepping beyond the HQ, a tear finally slips down my cheek.
285
“Are you all right?” Zander asks me as we climb into a jeep.
I nod, cough, and brush the wet from my cheek.
“I’m fine,” I tell him.
He knows better than to follow up with further questioning. When you’re emotionally tender, someone asking if you’re OK is usually sufficient to break the dam. Right now, I need to set my complete focus on the job at hand.
Zander is aware of this, and so changes the subject
immediately.
“I got some updates from Commander Burns,” he says as he kicks the car into gear, and we begin shooting up the road. “The Cure are just about to break through to the south of the western gate. I have it on good authority that Drum is with his unit at one of the blockades, and that the Fangs are there too.”
“Really?! They’re alive?”
“Apparently so. Now let’s try to keep them that way, huh?”
“Yeah…definitely,” I say, my rate of breathing stepping up a notch, and my emotional fragility suddenly hardening. “Do we have any idea how many people we have left out there?”
“Almost a thousand covering the western front,” says Zander. “All have been gathered from the other quarters. We’d have more, but we need plenty covering the evacuation.”
“Doesn’t sound as bad as I thought.”
“Until you hear that the Cure have several times our number. And refreshed soldiers, up against Con-Cops and exhausted City Guards, and not to mention our untrained reservists. It’s not a fight we can win, Brie.”
“I get that,” I say. “But still…”
“I know. I guess we’ve beaten worse odds before, right?”
He looks at me, driving blind for a moment, and smiles. It’s so good to see him back, his head back in the game. Zander, fully fit, accounts for an untold number of soldiers alone, and the effect he has on our own men cannot be measured.
I look again at his side, now covered in combat gear and with the bandaging out of sight. It makes me feel better not being able to see the blood gradually staining his clothes.
“So, are you all better then?” I ask. “As in, enough to fight properly.”
“Good as new,” he says. “They gave me blood and fluids, so there’ll be no more passing out.”
“As long as you’re sure.”
“I am. Don’t waste energy on worry.”
We press on, the civilians now being gathered in the army of vehicles filling the core of the city. If we had more time, and more stocks of weapons, so many of them could be put to the defence of the city too. I imagine many would prefer it, rather than being shipped into the wilds. It’s hardly much better out there than here, at least in the places I’ve seen.
I turn my eyes on Compton’s Hall as we pass it, eager for a glimpse of my friends. I barely have a chance before it’s out of sight, the occupants of the hall only just starting to seep from inside.
Then, we’re away from the core, moving down side streets between the spirals. We encounter no soldiers at first, the roads bare and empty. When we venture further towards the wall, however, the roadblocks and blockades appear, hastily erected and bolstered to slow the Cure’s inexorable march.
Soldiers gather now, a mixture of our own loyalists and Cromwell’s. I see many City Guard uniforms, and many Con-Cops too. I spot the black cloaks of Stalkers, more obvious now as our forces gather into a single grouping, as the fighting shrinks to this single part of the sprawling city. It doesn’t surprise me to see that there are quite a few remaining, their supreme fighting abilities, and the almost unfathomable depths of their energy stores enabling them to battle on and on, hour after hour, dispatching so many enemy soldiers to their graves.
Looking upon the various units, now gathering several blocks back from the wall where the roads tighten and allow for a more close-quarter defence, I see a united army. Amid the rush, amid the madness, all concerns about Cromwell’s loyal soldiers turning against us have been forgotten. When the devil is at your door, you hardly care if there’s a wolf taking refuge in your home.
We press on, moving along the lines towards the southwest. The breach is imminent, a fact made clear before we left HQ, and now clearer still as the air vibrates, and the explosions rattle from several blocks away.
“Are there any men still there?” I ask. “Have all moved back from the wall?”
My brother nods as the jeep slows.
“The wall is lost. Now we hold them in the streets, just like before.”
The car comes to a stop, and we step out to a deafening roar. More pounding explosions signal a crumbling wall, and then the world grows loud with an endless hollering, the Cure’s war cries splitting the night sky as they venture through the opening.
They’ll be here soon, in minutes only. And when they come, the final stages of the battle for Haven will be upon us.
So we run, Zander leading me to a specific blockade, down a specific street. He calls down the radio as we go, informing Commander Burns that the Cure are through, and for the evacuation to begin as soon as possible.
Then, I see them. Together, as if by luck, or perhaps by design and ordered here by my brother, I see them. Drum, along with Rhoth, and West, and a grouping of Fangs still in the fight. All stay hidden, silent and behind barriers, waiting to stand and unleash hell when the enemy come charging down the street.
I hurtle towards them, the clock ticking fast, and slip in right alongside.
“Space for one more?” I ask, moving right between Rhoth and Drum, side by side here in this blank corner of Inner Haven.
Both smile, one with giant tablets for teeth, the other with yellowed fangs that, once, were quite frightening to behold. No longer. Now, I see a dear friend, and his tribe at his back, right alongside a boy of 16 who I count as family. All now are family. And family stick together.
Zander moves in right alongside us, and pats Rhoth on the back.
“Hey, big man. You didn’t think we’d miss the big finale, did you?”
“Oh my boy, never!” growls Rhoth. “It will be my pleasure to die alongside you, Zander of the Nameless.”
“And you, Rhoth of the Fangs.”
The two men, with such a storied history, share a smile of great mutual respect. And in the background, the rumble of hundreds of voices begins to grow, echoing through the streets as they hunt us down, probably wondering just why the wall has been abandoned.
In my ear, I hear a whisper.
“Do you think…I’ve done enough?”
I turn to see Drum’s big brown eyes looking at me. There’s a solemnity to them, his expression etched in guilt.
“Done enough?” I whisper.
He nods innocently.
“For the man…the man I…killed.”
I feel my heart breaking at the look on his face. I reach up and hug him.
“Of course, Drum. You’ve done more than enough. You’ve done so much more.”
I let go, and find him drawing some strength from my words. It’s as if he had to hear them before the end.
“I hope so. I’ve tried…”
“You’ve succeeded,” I say firmly. “And you’ll have many more years of good, Drum. A lifetime of good. We’re going to survive this. I promise you. We’re going to get out of here, and live long and free.”
I kiss his cheek, and force him to smile. Then, together, we turn our eyes back down the street.
And the rumbling grows louder.
Along the line, down so many streets, so many sets of eyes now watch. No one speaks, not even a whisper. All frames cower low, hidden, preparing the ambush.
The Cure know we’re here. They know we’re waiting. They have gathered their full force now, preparing to beat us into submission, crash through our lines and eradicate all who dwell within this city.
Their roars signal their presence. They have no interest in secrecy. They know we’re on the ropes, down to our bare bones. They are coming, charging like a herd of wild beasts, ready to trample whatever lies in their way.
I steady my heart-rate in those final moments, and make sure my breathing is calm. I stare, my Hawk eyes creeping through the night, seeking the flowing mass of bodies, approaching from the west. I can feel Zander doing the same, his finger hovering on the trigger of his pulse rifle. He slowly, gently, lifts the barrel of the gun, and lays it down atop the barricade. All along the line our soldiers do the same, me and Drum and Rhoth and all the rest, preparing to fill the streets with fire
.
And down all other streets, the rest follow. Behind a hundred barriers, watching a dozen roads, our thousand troops wait as one. And when the first gun goes off, the western front, this otherwise quiet portion of Inner Haven, will light up like lightning and boom like thunder.
I can’t tell who is first to shoot. It comes from somewhere down the line, some nervous soldier with an itchy trigger finger, too eager to send this foul horde to hell. The result, however, is a domino effect. From one barrier to the next, hundreds of weapons go off, pulse rifles and machine guns and sentry guns, all bursting to life within seconds of each other.
It isn’t Zander who fires first down our street, but one of the Fangs. His old firearm begins spitting lead at the black shapes in the distance, too early to draw them into the bottleneck. I feel Zander’s frustration, his perfectionist nature in all things battle and war angry that we didn’t lure them closer.
But it matters not now. He shoots like all the rest, and so do I, all of us firing into the murk. We shoot for a long, unending burst, perhaps driven by anger, perhaps fear. Then, Zander begins to roar for us to cease fire, and the order spreads to the other blockades, their commanders doing the same.
The dust, drawn up by the commotion, begins to float down the streets and alleys. The shapes beyond go still. I look ahead once more, our positions now given away.
“What are they doing?” I whisper. “Why aren’t they attack….”
My sentence is never completed. More gunfire rattles from nearby, and then to the other side, several more units do the same.
“Incoming!” I hear someone cry.
And then, they come.
Right ahead of us, firing as they charge, that black mass separates into individual figures. The clanging of bullets against metal barriers fills the air, and I instinctively grab Drum and pull him down, ducking right for cover. Locked out of sight, they still come, growing ever nearer.
“Fire back!” shouts Zander. “We have to halt the charge!”
Shooting blind, we lift our guns over the barriers again, and fire. The barrage of bullets down the street lessens a little, suggesting we’ve taken several out. It gives us a chance. Kneeling again, we rise up and take better aim, all of us, as one, shooting at the soldiers as they pour towards us.