by Kim Cleary
"A minor confrontation with a bunch of twitchers."
"Minor? What the…" He stood, hands stiff at his sides. "What the hell where you two thinking? Where is she?"
"In the hospital, here. She's going to be okay."
"What happened?"
I gave him a condensed version of our run in with the group of twitchers, though not about my healing of her wound. "Glynn covered her in special sticking plaster, and now Dr. Graham is tidying everything up."
"At least you had the sense to take Buckley with you. You’re with him?"
I nodded. It wasn't exactly a lie, Glynn might not have wanted me here but, hey, here I was. "Are you okay? Are they looking after you?"
He dropped back onto the bed, beads of sweat lined his upper lip. "They've done what they can. A fever is lingering, that's all."
I rummaged in my satchel, pulled out the squares that Glynn gave me. "Will this help?"
"Can't hurt." He turned his back to me and lifted his shirt.
I stuck a square on either side of a thick bandage. "Who shot you?"
He settled onto his back with a grimace. "I don't know. But one of us. An accident in the confusion."
A cold draft brushed across the back of my neck. A soldier sat on the next bed. I turned my gaze from Ed to the newcomer and found myself staring into the glazed eyes of a new corpse.
I guess this is missing man number nine.
"What's happened to me?" the dead man asked me.
"Powerful magic works here." I rested my hand on his knee. "At this intersection of ley lines, people die but then live again, either as corpses or strong spirits."
"I don't like it," he whispered.
A tear rolled down his cheek; he wiped it away with a broken hand. "Help me."
"I'll try and help."
I tried to swallow, I couldn’t look him in the eye. If he were a spirit and wanted to die properly, I could take him back to the Shadow Glades if that’s what he wanted, or even to the Realm of the Dead. But this guy was a living dead. I’d have no choice but to kill him again with either fire, or a fatal blow to his head. I'd done it before. But that didn't mean I enjoyed it.
A distant, coarse, metal–on–metal grating sound interrupted my thoughts.
"That's the gate," one of the men said.
A broad-shouldered man strode into the room and whispered to Owen.
"As you can see Meagan." Owen circled his arm around the room. "These men are well cared for. And now I suggest you get a nap while we prepare for another attack."
He marched to the exit. I ran after him. "What do you know about an attack?"
At the metal door, he glanced at his watch. "Will be a regular squad, in around three hours. I've heard, Buckley will be leading it himself. My sources are good, are they not?"
"They haven't found Echo Den yet. What are you preparing?"
"You do ask a lot of questions. We can't risk an attack here after everything we've worked for. Fear not, your friend Major Buckley is in no danger from us. I'll lead a small group to divert them away from here."
"Let me come with you. I'll talk with Glynn."
Owen's eyes flashed with amusement. "You are an expert in combat as well, are you?"
"We must avoid combat. I must talk with Glynn. As soon as he knows the men are here and unharmed, he will talk rather than shoot."
"Not to me, I’ll wager." Owen crossed his arms, his stare boring into my face. "Perhaps we are tired of running diversion tactics. Perhaps we will fight back. Do you still want to tag along?"
"I'm not letting that happen." In the narrow dark tunnels, it would be mayhem. Completely understandable that Owen and his people grew tired of the continual attempts to attack and capture them. But it wasn't happening, not on my watch. The previous attacks against them may have failed. But Glynn led this one. People would get hurt, on both sides. I pressed fingertips to my temples as my headache ratcheted up a notch. "Let me help you."
"Why should I believe you want to help us? You. Of all people. What's in it for you?"
"What can I do to make you believe I'm not like any other necromancer you've ever met, or heard of? I admit I want to make sure Glynn isn't harmed as well."
"You just seek to understand." Owen parroted my own words back at me. "Give me one good reason why I should even consider helping you to talk to Glynn."
"Because we need to end the conflict, not escalate it."
I resisted the temptation to try and push an order into Owen's head. He was strong. Stronger than the decayed man who resisted me. Even attempting it would show Owen I couldn't be trusted. He waited for me to try something—the look in his eyes challenged me to.
After what seemed like an age, he nodded once. "If you even try to lead the squad here, we will kill you. Or at least die trying."
"I've no reason to do that." Stuck in the middle of this conflict, I felt like I was the only one who wanted no-one harmed.
"Show her to a bed." Owen spoke to the broad-shouldered man. He rested his hand on my shoulder. "It's time we trusted one another. I give you my word we will wake you, so you can join the diversion party."
He marched away. The man pointed back down the corridor to the dormitory. He followed me and pulled a folding bed from the wall. I glanced around the room. Ed and the other soldiers stared at me with hope in their faces. I didn't want to see any other soldiers accidentally shot with friendly fire either.
Dear Haebeth, what a day. Even though I'd risen before sunrise to travel here, jumped off a train, healed Del at the twitchers’ hang out, and fatigue dragged at my limbs, I couldn't sleep. I relived every word Glynn and I spoke to on one another, grimaced at all the words I could have said and didn’t. Glynn and his men must be close to massing at Westmead Station by now. He'd know Del and I disobeyed him and continued the search for Aidan.
He'd be worried and angry—so angry. If we found him, would he even want to talk with me?
Cold air brushed across my face. I must've dozed for a short while. I swung my legs to the ground, wobbling as I stood.
"Time to leave." Liliwen hung in the air before me. "Take a moment to steady yourself. You'll need your wits about you."
One of the soldiers handed me a welcome cup of water. He walked straight through Liliwen—I guess he didn't see her.
Two living dead met me at the gate and led me back to the main cavern. We joined another seven undead, everyone pulling on vests with bulging pockets. The vests looked the same as the ones worn by Glynn and Del when we left Del's house. Maybe the pockets were bulging with weapons they'd taken from the soldiers they'd imprisoned?
This diversion group believed in packing weaponry like Del. I sucked in a deep breath. This could get messy.
"You are armed." I stated the observation aloud.
One of the group, a confident and natural leader, shared orders with the rest. She stopped and turned to face me. "Of course we are armed. We will try to create a diversion. But if that fails, we are prepared to fight."
Two spirits, one quite solid, the other as transparent as Liliwen, hung at the edges of the group. I waited a little distance from them. Their wariness rippled over me in probing waves. They weren't sure of me; I wasn't sure of them either. After a few minutes, Owen joined us. He nodded to the leader, and she gave a small salute in return. Perhaps she'd been part of the Armed Forces in her previous life. Perhaps they both had. Instinctively I angled myself away from him. He hadn't said anything about his previous life, and I hadn't asked.
"Get her a vest." Owen pointed at one of the men. He gave orders as briskly and confidently as Glynn.
Someone shoved an army vest into my hands.
"I don't need this—"
"Put it on. You aren't bullet-proof." Owen's voice held a hint of amusement. "And get that white lab coat off—we don't need to advertise our presence."
Imitating the leader, I gave him a stiff salute as I wriggled out of the coat. I adjusted my satchel so it rested against the small of my
back, wriggled into the too-big vest and zippered it shut. No, I wasn't bullet-proof, but hopefully no bullets would fly this time.
My pulse pounded in my ears. How would Glynn react? How would Owen's group react when they encountered Glynn’s squad? In the dark tunnels, everyone confused and scared, we could all be dead before I got a chance to talk with him.
Deep in my own thoughts, I almost missed the signal to move. We marched to the back of the cavern. Another corridor took us to a roughly hewn tunnel and a set of narrow stairs leading up into blackness. Owen signaled for me to go ahead of him. I pressed my hands against the walls on either side, and climbed one step at a time until we arrived at a landing. Thankfully someone grabbed a lantern from a hook on the wall and lit it. Silently we followed another tunnel ramping upwards, until we arrived at train tracks.
By the time we stepped onto the tracks, my legs trembled with exertion. I couldn't think of anything except catching my breath. The woman with the lantern took her place at the front of our lineup and a murky puddle of light danced on the tracks. The two spirits sped away. Owen whispered to keep quiet. I took several deep breaths to calm my racing pulse. We tiptoed single file along the narrow ledge next to the tracks.
In a few moments, the spirits returned and reported the location of Glynn and his squad.
Glynn.
My heart lurched. When the medic reported that neither Del nor I waited at the station he must've felt sick with worry. I hadn't set out to worry him. I should have tried harder. Made Del wait for the medic, then slipped off to explore the tunnels by myself. Would that have made things any better? As far as Glynn knew I'd still be MIA.
"Meagan." Owen tapped my elbow. "You still with us?"
Too late now to change the choices I’d made.
I nodded quickly, bottled my conflicting emotions, and followed the others along a narrow ledge. I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, my shoulder scraping along the rough wall as I paced.
After what felt like an eternity, we arrived at a wider ledge. Wide enough for us to form a tight, silent circle around Owen. Where we were in relation to Echo Den, or Westmead Station, was anyone's guess. My ears strained for any sound that could have signaled Glynn and his squad.
"We'll meet them at section eighty-five." Owen spoke clearly. "Only use as much force as needed to convince the squad we come from the loop."
"What if someone is injured?" I whispered.
"We'll try to avoid that."
"We have little capacity to heal any more living," someone at the back muttered.
"That's why we will avoid injuries," Owen answered sharply.
We followed another narrow ledge until we arrived at a much wider tunnel. Four tracks ran parallel to one another. We crossed the tracks to the ledge opposite. The leader crouched and signaled for us all to do the same.
"They are up ahead," Owen whispered to me.
"Let me try, please."
"Remember what I said."
"And you remember my words too."
"Go. Take the lantern, they'll see you coming."
Lantern in hand, I paced as quickly as I could along the ledge. Many footsteps sounded ahead, muffled as if the soldiers stepped carefully—probably ready to shoot at anything that moved. I had to trust Glynn had them disciplined and under control. That he'd be happy to see me. My tight leg muscles didn't want to move. I fought an overwhelming urge to hide in shadows. I cleared my throat, tensed my jaw to stop my lips from trembling, and held the lantern high above me.
"Glynn," I called out. "It's me, Meagan."
Chapter 16
My voice echoed around the tunnel as if I'd shouted down a well. My feet felt rooted to the spot. Owen and his people crouched behind me; Glynn and his squad marched toward me.
What the hell am I doing? This is a crazy idea.
My body temperature rose as if surrounded by a Turkish bath rather than the cold tunnels. But how else could I stop this attack and talk to Glynn?
I had to press on.
Perhaps they hadn't heard me. I cleared my throat. "Major Buckley—"
"Don't shoot." Glynn barked out the order and strode to me. "What the hell? Have you any idea how worried I've been?"
"Yes. I'm sorry." Heat tingled in my face. I knew every idea. If our positions were reversed I’d be worried sick, and angry enough to kick a dozen blanket boxes. "I can explain."
"Make it quick. Twitchy fingers. Where is Del? You are together I assume?"
"They are treating Del—"
"They?"
"We found Aidan. He’s happy and working in the garden—"
"They?" Glynn stepped closer, a command to answer the question clear in his tone.
I lowered my voice. "Living dead, living in peace—"
"What the hell have you been snorting. They killed nine men."
"No. They are looking after everyone." No time now to explain about the dead soldier who hated his new life. I’d put my trust in what they told me. That they wanted no one hurt.
If they harmed a hair on Glynn's head, I'd show them what a furious necromancer could do.
I placed the lantern on the ledge and stepped down to where Glynn stood. He had every right to be livid with me.
"I don't know whether to kiss you or put you over my knee." Glynn touched my face with trembling fingers.
One of the men behind Glynn sniggered. I encircled my hand around his fingers and leaned toward him. Only hours since we’d seen one another, but it felt like a lifetime ago. I ached to hug him close to me, but it didn’t seem appropriate in the setting.
"Did you find Ed?"
"He said he was accidentally shot by one of his own men." I gripped Glynn’s hand. "In the confusion."
"You've spoken with him?"
"He's fine, honestly. They are well fed, and well treated."
"I believe you." Glynn softened his tone. "I don't know what to make of it."
He paced to the other side of the tunnel and back. He stared at the spot where Owen and his men huddled, glanced away, and rested his hand on my shoulder. "I need my men released."
"As soon as you guys stop attacking them." My mouth dried. "They are working on some stuff. They’ll move soon. If you'd meet with Owen and talk things through. They didn't start this."
"Bullshit." Col. Asher's voice boomed from down the tunnel.
The sound of heavy strides grew closer.
"Get away." Glynn hissed the words at me. "You're not Asher's favorite person."
Glynn turned to face Asher. "Colonel, I wasn't expecting to see you here."
I backed to the ledge. Glynn's surprise sounded genuine. A heavy weight settled in my stomach. I wasn't expecting to see Asher here either. At Del's house, Asher’s hands trembled, tremors shook his arms. No sign of shakiness now. He held a weapon in a firm grip, his stance as straight as any soldiers in history.
"Obviously." In one word, Asher tangled together sarcasm and scorn. "I see the witch still hangs around despite my orders to the contrary."
"I can explain, sir."
"No need, Major. I can see for myself she is no ordinary witch. You did well to expose her. Though I still have questions about your loyalty, and you will answer them."
Glynn glanced in my direction before stepping closer towards the Colonel. "Sir—"
"Bring as many as you can alive. I especially want their leader and the witch." Colonel Asher kept his stare fixed on my face. "Buckley, I expect you will want to have a quiet conversation with ex-Sergeant Maddox. Don't kill him. That's a direct order, make sure you obey at least that one."
Owen had been a sergeant? And he and Glynn knew one another? I swiveled my head to try and see how Owen reacted, but all the living dead stayed still and silent against the tunnel walls.
"Maddox?" Glynn’s voice shook. "Show yourself."
I lifted my hands in a plea. "Colonel, why won't you talk with them? Negotiate a peace."
"I'll rot in Hell before I negotiate anything with
a bunch of insane corpses."
"They aren't like any other undead you've ever—"
He pointed the gun at my chest. "Shut up. I'd like you taken alive. But I want him more."
My heart hammered within the bulletproof vest Owen insisted I wear. "They want to give the city technology for free. Why are you against that?"
"I don't have to explain anything to you."
"Your men and the people living here deserve to know what's going on."
Ignoring the colonel, Glynn pushed past me. He pulled a small torch from his pocket and flashed light into the depths of the tunnel behind me. His slow intake of breath spiked fear in my gut. Something happened between the two men. How would I get them to talk now?
"You know why I did what I did," Owen said clearly. "I didn't want her dead. But you were the commanding officer. I had to follow orders, you would have died if I'd tried to save her."
This was the mage who saved Glynn's life? The man Glynn blamed for his old girlfriend’s death?
Colonel Asher smiled for a brief second, pointed his gun at the tunnel roof and pulled the trigger.
The deafening noise forced my hands to my ears.
As I edged back to Owen and his men, they tossed small metal canisters into the tunnel. Flashing light dazzled my eyes. Brilliant white light many times brighter than if someone took a flash picture right in front of my face. For a few seconds, I couldn't see anything.
My ears buzzed at a succession of explosions. I gagged at the stink of steamy sulfur and stale urine. My face throbbed as if someone with a huge fist punched my head, repeatedly.
No wonder friendly fire hit soldiers. It was impossible to tell who was who, or where I was in comparison to anyone else.
Something small and hard smacked into my chest, the impact like a hammer against my body. Pain radiated into my abdomen and I fell backward against the ledge.
Somebody grabbed me under my armpits and dragged me backward. My ankles banged against the tracks until someone picked me up tight against their chest and ran.
It wasn't Glynn—the man who helped me was as cold as ice.
More explosions flared. The booming sound pulsed through my body. Coarse retching sounded in the distance. Someone still carried me, hunched but moving swiftly and quietly. Pain still radiated from my wound, its heat fighting a battle with cold seeping from the man's icy chest into my body. Fits of shivering—maybe from injury or cold—kept me alert as we retraced our steps back to Echo Den.