By moving quickly and quietly with Nelson’s knowledge of the city, the team of Indies passed through Tanya’s stronghold, which was relatively clean, and its roadways clear of abandoned vehicles, in just over an hour. The roadways and sidewalks were clean, the buildings themselves also clean, with doorways and windows secure. Everything was well-lit with LED lights, with solar panels as support. Organized. Tidy. There was no garbage lying about and there were sentries placed throughout the complex, sentries the Indies were easily able to scan and avoid because Wren sensed them and messaged Coru and Mattea of their whereabouts. The lit streets were not so easy to ghost through, but with a corridor to the sentries thinking, they were able to work their way through the streets of Glenbrook Raven Park pretty steadily. It was quickly apparent that any open green area had been planted into community gardens and looked to be well tended, with little shanties housing goats and chickens, and compost sheds that featured well used tools and more solar panels mounted on swinging structures, meant to follow the sun. The sun might be brief down here at street level, but every scrap was gathered and stored to power the Raven’s territory.
Tanya, the master-mind behind all this was sleeping, but Wren got a pretty clear feeling about her from the minds who were awake. She was respected, even admired by many. Tanya didn’t rule by fear, but by co-operation and mutual security. Wren was surprised by this, after the last year of finding monsters in charge in so many places. Power corrupted, absolute power corrupted absolutely. Not so with Tanya. Wren found herself wanting to meet this woman.
The guards on the bridge side of Glenbrook Raven Park were unimpressed with the Bridge People, viewing them as not much of a threat, easily managed. They paid little attention to the bridge side of their territory, confident the broken bridge was no serious entry point. For this reason, the bulk of Tanya’s guards were focused along a thick wall that ran along the north and west side and looked outward toward Hume Park. This was where the true danger lay, what the Ravens viewed as a cesspool of petty gangs. The Indies used this predisposition of wariness to their advantage.
Since the guards were thus occupied, not prepared for a rear attack from within their home base, they subsequently received a knock on their heads courtesy of the Hanson twins. Tom and Gary laid the four guards gently onto the ground and the Indies sprinted through a narrow gateway in the walled enclave back into the open, lawless section of the city formed inside the adjoining Hume Park.
Hume Park was to Wren’s best guess maybe two or three hundred acres and was made of two sections. Here, on the south side, near the Ravens’ territory, in the moonlight, she could see it was still parklike, with dark, shadowing stands of trees, frighteningly shaped shrubs that suggested a myriad of dangers and large tracks of overgrown grasses as tall as her knees that moved in the breeze like waves on the ocean. The place was dark and ever moving, a restless, hungry organism, looking to swallow up any foolish traveler that dared stray within its reach. In the distance, she could see the north side of Hume Park was heavily built up with towering apartment buildings sandwiched together, edging out on the highway side, lending a faint toothy shadow to the east.
Unchallenged, they reached the buildings in under an hour and began the dangerous game of bobbing and weaving through the streets, moving cautiously from block to block, few still lit by streetlights, most now dark, their lights smashed, or burnt out. Darkness did not ensure safety, however. There were hundreds of nearby shadowy minds, with thousands further afield across the lower mainland. Some of these minds were sharp but the majority were drowsy or dreaming or simply sending out no signal Wren could catch.
Few were down here at street level—too dangerous. Most were hiding in the relative safety high overhead in the silent buildings, but all winked in and out of Wren’s sensors like sparkling fireflies.
Her group was ever watchful as they advanced into the city proper, though they saw no one. Wren mapped those fireflies and she shared the map with Mattea and Coru through their mental connection to guide their choices to ensure a safe route through the shadowy maze. If she heard or sensed someone, they jogged away, if she located a dead zone, they used that passage. No point in running toward a possible confrontation.
A picture of the devastation that had occurred here in the city showed itself as they raced through the dark, deserted streets—streets that were littered with shadowy abandoned, and sometimes not so abandoned, rusted out vehicles, twisted ghosts of their former selves now resting on bare wheel wells. Many of these vehicles were cemented into place by stinking mountains of garbage that crawled up the sides of the nearby buildings, leaving little room for passage down the severely narrowed streets, the stink so strong it felt as if she weren’t just smelling it but tasting it as well.
Pulling her collar up over her mouth and nose didn’t help.
Reading the few minds still awake, it seemed that the whole of Hume Park had been carved up into four sections of control by a scattered collection of strutting warlords loosely falling under the guise of the Pig Stickers, the Hummers, the Transit Tramps, or the Burnaby Burners. Four gangs with interchangeable members, a constant ebb and flow with quickly chosen, then un-chosen leaders at their helms. These four gangs had a relatively large area under their control, with frequent battles happening. Control.
Wren snickered at this, catching Nelson’s momentary attention as they darted from place to place.
He scowled at her.
She shrugged her apology but knew already there was no one with a mind to challenge them here for at least three blocks, maybe even more. It seemed the core members of all four gangs were currently duking it out near the highway, a bit south of where the Indies intended to cross.
If Mattea and Coru strayed too close, she’d let them know.
It was the gangs’ illusion of control that was the joke here. There was no control, there was no guidance, no plan—only constant squabbling, unnecessary woundings, even deaths, all over trivial or imagined insults. Tanya had to be very happy with this, for obvious reasons. As long as they fought amongst themselves, cancelled one another out, the Ravens didn’t have to deal with the Hume Park gangs.
The contrast between the Glenbrook Raven Park and Hume Park was like traveling from one planet to another. How had such a chasm formed? How had the Hume Park gangs been left so far behind, were still so blind to their own destructive path?
They raced full bore through the streets of what remained of the dilapidated condos towering over them. No one stood guard, no one cared. They neared the highway much sooner than they’d hoped, and gathered in the shadows, sizing up their chances at getting across the lit-up space unnoticed. It was as bright as daylight here, with the street lights functioning as well now as they had before the pandemic, proving New Pacific did have a power source when they wanted it.
Coru glanced at Wren, questioningly. She was about to give the all clear when she caught something new. She recognized it immediately for what it was, emanating from the opposite side of the very highway they were about to cross. This was the hive mind, easy to overlook, as she’d learned back home in the Peace. One central, droning collective aim had been so foreign to her, she hadn’t read it for what it was until it was far too close and too late. Here, she recognized it, recognized the pattern, if not the thoughts. This was danger. Great danger.
She reached out, grabbed the two nearest to her, Waylon and Mattea. Dragging them back with her, she hissed, “Get back. They’re coming.”
“Who?” Coru barked.
“Them; It; the hive mind. POE—hundreds of them. It’s a show of power, to teach respect. They’re almost here and they’re looking for a fight.”
Nelson waved his arm toward the highway in frustration. “But we’re almost there! Why cave now?”
“Run,” Wren told him, with no time to explain. She turned and sprinted back into the relative safety of darkness, calling over her shoulder, “Run!”
FOLLOWING WREN’S LEAD, Coru and the rest of their team booted
it back into the darkness, dodging through the few stands of trees beside the highway and flitting between buildings. The smell forgotten, they plowed through, block after block, their lungs bursting inside their chests, all efforts at subterfuge abandoned. They escaped between the buildings uncontested and sprinted across the park proper, their steps quickly eating up their hard-earned progress with discouraging speed. Through Wren’s mind, Coru and Mattea experienced the droning sound of the hive mind, the POE’s single-minded drive into New Pacifica Wild’s Hume Park, expanding their share of her telepathic band at breakneck speed, crowding out all other minds. It was as if a wave of locusts was ascending across the land, about to devour everything in its way. Hundreds of POE against seven Indies? The wave would mow them down like grass if they were caught.
They had to outrun them.
They stopped short of re-entering Tanya’s strong hold. The guards they had knocked out had obviously recovered and re-enforcements had arrived. The guards’ numbers had tripled and their heavily armored bodies and heads, which showed only scruffy beards, and burning eyes bobbed busily behind the wall that surrounded Tanya’s stronghold. Chests heaving, they realized they were trapped. There was no way the Indies could slip past this gateway unnoticed now. Mattea turned, ran the perimeter.
Nelson blurted, still gasping, “Where’s he going?”
“Looking for a place to hunker down for the war,” Coru snapped.
“What war? How did everything change? I didn’t see a thing, and suddenly we’re all running for our lives from nothing.”
“The POE are—.” Wren began.
Mattea ghosted from the darkness. “There’s a hollow. Below a big old cedar, its branches brushing the ground all around. Not big, but we can all fit.”
Nelson demanded, “Why are we hiding?”
The Hansons exchanged glances and stood undecided for a moment as well, but turned to follow Mattea, no questions asked. Waylon was only a few steps behind.
“I’ll explain when we’re under cover. We can’t stay out here in the open,” Coru told Nelson over his shoulder, following the Hansons.
“No. I’m not running around like an idiot after you. Explain yourself now, or I’m outta here.”
Coru pulled up with a grimace and turned back. “We have no time for this!”
“We have to go now, Nelson!” Wren grabbed Nelson’s arm to pull him with her. Nelson shook her off and stood his ground.
Coru said, “The POE are on their way. And they intend to take over the Park—no mercy. The local gangs just got wind of it and are coming now. We can’t be caught between them—we have no chance.”
“How do you know this?”
Wren jerked away, her head swiveling, eyes wide. “Not now!” she cried, turning and darting into the darkness.
This was finally enough for Nelson, apparently. He warned, “Move now, explain later,” and followed after Coru and Wren.
Hunched low, they ran the wall that encircled Glenbrook Raven Park. Mattea was right—there was a hollow, under a stand of trees just twenty feet out from the wall. The branches of an ancient cedar at the center of the stand swept the bare ground, completely enclosing a hidden divot in the earth.
Coru and Nelson were the last to throw themselves into it. It was snug, all right. All seven of them squeezed in tight, the earthy hollow just deep enough for them to stand in, the top level roughly hip height. It was a good hiding place. The bad news was it was obviously well used, with evidence others had been here before them. If they returned…
Under the thickness of the overhead branches, it was pitch black. Nelson got right to it, as Coru had known he would—the man was a dog with a bone. “Okay, tell me why we’re hiding here instead of crossing the highway while we still have darkness in our favor. We were already there! This is asinine!”
Tom Hanson murmured, “We’re waiting on an explanation as well.” He didn’t sound as impatient as he had back at Freeland. Tom had obviously parked his skepticism at the door when it came to this mission. He was open to hear what Coru had to tell them.
“Thanks, Tom,” Coru replied, thankful he didn’t have to fight the big guy on this one. “There’s something we didn’t mention back at Freeland, because when we first met you, it was no longer true. But now, it is. And we’re very fortunate to have it.”
“Are you deliberately being obtuse or is this a natural gift?” Waylon commented dryly.
Coru chuckled despite being jammed between a very pissed off Nelson, who was a space hog, and a thankfully small Wren, who, if he could have changed anything, would not be here, would not even be in southern British Columbia, but back at the cabin with Nicola.
Wren nudged him impatiently. Stop that. I’m where I need to be.
“Okay, while we have a moment,” Coru began, his voice hushed. “I know you’re wondering why Wren is here. I’ve seen your faces, Wren’s heard your questions—.”
“Heard?” Waylon protested, insulted by Coru’s words. “We haven’t complained once!”
Nelson jumped in, “You don’t have to complain, Waylon, your every thought is on your face, man.”
Coru stared Nelson down. “As I was attempting to explain,” he continued, “Wren here has a gift. She was ill in the summer and lost it. Forever, we thought. That’s why we didn’t—.”
“While I would maybe appreciate your story telling skills under different circumstances, man,” Nelson interrupted. “Now is not the time. What the hell?”
Wren said, “I’m a telepath. Always have been, until I lost my abilities this past spring. Then, at the farmhouse, I started getting fragments of it back. During the Vedder Bridge fight, it had grown stronger and I could read some of the POE’s thoughts, I could see where they were. I could read what you were thinking, feeling.”
There was silence as the four men absorbed her revelation. First came the disbelief, then the wonder, then the thinking back, going over their own thoughts since the Vedder bridge, combing them for potential embarrassing moments now that they knew a woman had been privy to their inner world. There was a mixture of wonder and resentment.
Then the disbelief returned, the denial and the inevitable test question – Can you read my thoughts now? Then came images. Through Wren, Coru could see what the four were sending her. Tom sent a unicorn, Gary a beer, Waylon his favorite breakfast, biscuits and gravy, Nelson an obscure old book he loved to read and reread, entitled “Lottery”.
She recited, “Unicorn, Beer, Biscuits and Gravy, Lottery.”
No one spoke. One by one, each man slumped back against the rounded dirt bank of their hidey-hole.
Mattea broke the silence. “Over time, Wren was able to send her thoughts back to a select few of us. People she was close to and knew their thought patterns well. There are four of us. We can mentally communicate with Wren, at her leave. When Wren is down, we’re all down. She’s our touchstone.”
Still silence. It was a lot to absorb.
Nelson was first to speak. “You four are talking amongst yourselves all the time?”
“No,” Tom provided. “Though I’d surely love to be in on it,” he added, envy heavy in his voice.
“Who then? No wait. Let me guess. I’ve seen the strange looks, the constant checking to see if Wren agreed. I thought…Well, I thought you were a pussy, honestly, sorry, Coru. But that’s what it looks like from here. Like that girl has you wrapped around her finger.”
Waylon said in a hushed, awed tone, “So Coru and Mattea? You’re dialed in?”
Mattea answered for them. “Yes. When Wren’s shields are down, we can see and read what she sees and reads. It’s what saved our asses just now. You hear that?”
They fell silent, the sporadic sound of gunfire peppered the night air, of whine of vehicles, shrill screams, shouts. It was far away, but not nearly far enough for Coru’s liking.
Nelson asked, his tone subdued now, “POE?” There was no denying Wren had indeed hauled them out of harm's way.
Wre
n replied. “Lots. The Park is overrun with them. The gangs are engaging. It’s not good.”
“Will…will we get out of here?” Waylon asked, his tone uncharacteristically tentative.
Mattea answered patiently, “She’s not clairvoyant. She can only pick up thoughts and feelings, what someone is thinking, feeling, mentally picturing. Maybe their history if it comes to mind.”
“Of course.” Waylon scrubbed at his ruddy beard and wagged his head balefully. “That was stupid. Sorry.”
Coru couldn’t help a wave of affection for the “God’s Country” Indie—Waylon was a loveable lug. He knew they’d remain friends when all of this was over.
“Let me listen for a bit,” Wren murmured. She leaned her forehead against Coru’s arm.
Everyone was quiet. Time dragged. As the sound of battle grew closer, the gunfire sharper, the voices and words more distinct, Coru grew more tense. He could feel Nelson tighten up by his side, also listening intently for sounds beyond their dark hiding place. What was happening out there? Who was winning? Who would they face when they emerged from the hollow?
It was starting to get light outside, fingers of light combing through the heavy cedar branches, lighting up their space, their circle of worried expressions emerging too quickly with the dawn. They were stuck out here in the open, but they took their lives in their hands if they moved during the day here in New Pacifica.
Wren sat up and gasped.
Coru blurted, “That changes everything. Everything!”
“We’ll have to split up,” Mattea reasoned, his mind already racing ahead with alternate paths of going forward. “No other way.”
Nelson hissed, “Wanna share, boys and girls? It’s not polite to keep secrets.”
“Okay,” Coru agreed. “All cards on the table. We each have to make a personal choice here. No pressure. What you decide to do, we’ll respect.”
“Now you’re scaring me, Big Guy,” Tom answered with a thin laugh. Tom hadn’t called Coru Big Guy since Prince George. It felt good to have his friend back.
Cursed Apprentice (Earth Survives Book 2) Page 25