Beyond These Walls | Book 8 | Between Fury & Fear

Home > Other > Beyond These Walls | Book 8 | Between Fury & Fear > Page 10
Beyond These Walls | Book 8 | Between Fury & Fear Page 10

by Robertson, Michael


  “And Hawk,” Gracie said, “are you saying he had a better reason? To me, it looked like he wanted to continue his one-man crusade to defeat every enemy on the planet. I won’t risk my life because of their mistakes. I told you I’d lead you here. I’ve done that. I can take Dianna back with me. Why don’t you come with us, too?”

  “Have you and Dianna already decided she’s going with you?”

  “I just assumed …” Gracie said.

  Dianna cleared her throat. Her voice came out as a weak warble. Were it not pitch black, Olga might have swung for the pathetic bitch. “What use am I to you here? I can’t fight.”

  Company. She’d give Olga company. But how could she say that? A free and independent spirit, could she really admit she needed a friend to stay with her? To hold her hand in the darkness.

  “Come with us,” Dianna said.

  “What about the others?”

  A small red light blinked in the corner of the room.

  “What’s that?” Olga said.

  “A camera. It’s hooked up to my community.”

  “What’s a camera?”

  “It’s a way for us to see who’s waiting here. It’s some of the new technology I said you’d see.”

  “Like the dogs and drones?”

  “Sure,” Gracie said, “but it can’t harm you. It just helps us see if there’s someone who needs rescuing. Like when Hawk and the others finally get here. Or Matilda and William.”

  “But it’s dark.”

  “It sees in the dark.”

  “And what if they need our help before they get this far? What then?”

  “I’ve done enough, Olga. I’ll come and get them if they arrive, but they’re on their own now.”

  Olga’s shoulders slumped. “You do what you need to do. I can’t leave this city without my friends. And, Dianna, you need to do what you think’s right.”

  “It’s not what I think’s right,” Dianna said. “It’s what I think is best. I truly believe I will be a hindrance to you if I stay.”

  “Right, best, whatever … If you think it’s best to go to Gracie’s community with her after all we’ve done for you, then you do that, love. Can I just remind you that Hawk and Max risked their lives for you.”

  “We’ll be back for them,” Dianna said.

  “You keep telling yourself that. As long as your conscience is clear, that’s all that matters, eh?”

  “That’s unfair. What use will I be to you? Especially if you go back into the city?”

  What use would Olga be in the city? She didn’t know the place. How the hell would she avoid the diseased, cannibals, and warring armies? Again, one word filled Olga’s mind. Company. She shook her head and sighed. “You go. You’re right, I’ll be better off on my own.”

  A hand rested on Olga’s back. It came from Dianna’s direction. She twisted away from the girl’s touch.

  “We’ll be watching,” Gracie said.

  “And what if …” Olga took a moment. “What if we don’t all make it? What if they come here in stages? There’s no reason they’ll arrive together.”

  “When you’re ready for me to come and get you,” Gracie said, “hold up four fingers on your right hand. I’ll see that and come. If I see all of you in here, I’ll also come.”

  Olga jumped at the snap of the steel door’s handle. The hinges cackled again. Not that they had anything to laugh about. Gracie opened the door wide enough for Dianna to leave. “We’ll return, okay.”

  Olga turned her back on them. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

  Dianna said, “G-goodbye, Olga. See you soon.”

  The door closed with a click, throwing the small space back into complete darkness. After letting go of a hard sigh, Olga’s exhaustion caught up with her. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her head in her hands. In spite of herself, she began to cry.

  Chapter 19

  Since William had found the old apartment with Matilda, he’d sat in a corner and hadn’t moved. The aches running through his shins and legs had eased, turning into a low buzz of fatigue. They were far enough away from the window to avoid the broken glass on the floor. “How long do you think we’ve been here for?”

  Matilda got to her feet again, squinting as she peered out at the city, searching one way and then the other. “Two hours?” She shrugged. “Maybe more.”

  It had grown light outside, the grainy hue from the birth of a new day revealing their surroundings to them. Where the darkness hid all its imperfections, the sunlight scrutinised them. The cracks in the walls were putrid scars, the damp plaster inside having swollen and burst through their papery skin. The bare concrete floor, cold and damp, had turned William’s bottom numb, but at least it had given him a chance to rest. The previous night had damn near broken him.

  His clothes were cold and damp with dew. Another shiver sent a violent spasm through his body.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m as okay as I need to be. It’s not like we can do much about that right now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We have to move on soon. Much sooner than my body would like.”

  “But the rest has been good, right? It’s helped?”

  William winced. “I think so, yeah.”

  Matilda got to her feet and offered him her hand. She supported most of his weight as he stood and led them over to the window.

  Like with the room they were in, the daylight revealed a different city. The imposing blocks and buildings that had loomed over them in the darkness, staring down on them in judgement, were now exposed as decrepit and crumbling forms. “This place looked a lot different when we were running through it last night,” William said. “I saw what it used to be. I imagined what the buildings contained inside. But now—”

  “It looks like a ghost town,” Matilda said.

  “Right.”

  “But didn’t Gracie say this place came alive during the day?”

  The stamp of boots answered Matilda’s question. They echoed through the tight streets.

  Both William and Matilda stepped back and used the shadows as cover.

  A group of about ten soldiers in red uniform, they dressed like they belonged to the same army, but they lacked any kind of militant co-ordination. They wandered through the city, scanning their surroundings, their identical foot-long metal batons raised and ready to use.

  “They look so young,” Matilda said.

  “Like us when we were sent on our national service.”

  “At least we had a leader. These lot look like they’re making it up as they go along.”

  “Lambs to the slaughter.”

  Matilda stepped back another pace and tugged on William’s arm. “If the city wakes up like Gracie said it does, I think we should get out of here while it’s still early.”

  The army rounded the next bend, searching the streets but not looking up. They were so wet behind the ears, they’d didn’t think to look any higher than their own level. William shook his head. Lambs to the slaughter.

  The same bare concrete floor continued into the hallway, the walls as scarred and burst as they’d been in the apartment. Damp chunks of plaster leaked from the deep gashes and spilled across their path. Spiders had made their homes in every corner. Several webs broke on William’s face as he walked through them. He pinched at his skin, and despite removing some silk, he couldn’t get it all.

  The building had a stairwell on one side. Matilda led them to the other. To a window in the far wall. William pointed behind them. “Why not use the stairs?”

  Guiding his sight with her pointing hand, Matilda showed William the metal tower in the distance, the landmark Gracie had shown them as their destination. “You think they’ll still be there waiting for us?”

  “I’m not sure,” Matilda said. “But if you have a better plan, I’m all ears. Also”—she stepped from the window onto the steel walkway—“I guessed there’d be one of these fire escapes to climb down. It’s a qu
icker route. The sooner we get to the tower, the better.”

  They might have only been one floor from the ground, but stepping from the cover of the building exposed them to the wind’s full force. It burned William’s tired eyes. A clacking called up to them from another street. “Matilda!”

  She continued along the metal walkway, her long brown hair streaming out behind her.

  Clenched teeth, William hissed, louder this time, “Matilda!”

  She halted, and when she turned to look at him, her hair dragged across her face. It took her three attempts to swipe it free before he had her attention. He pointed in the sound’s direction, and her features fell slack. William climbed back into the tower.

  Matilda joined him. The clacking grew louder. The uneven beat of a mechanical quadruped—of several mechanical quadrupeds—rounded the bend. A pack of dogs. Their eyes glowed red, and their hinged jaws hung open. “I know the last time we saw them they were breathing fire,” William said, “but to look at them now. To see them in all their glory makes them—”

  “Scarier?”

  He nodded. “Scarier. Like I can see the true extent of their power. Thank the heavens they didn’t catch us.” As the pack passed, William said, “Let’s wait for a second. Where there’re dogs, there might be more soldiers.”

  Matilda raised her eyebrows. “Or drones.” She peered out at the sky.

  Another pack of red-uniformed soldiers rounded the bend. They chased after the dogs. As disorganised as the first lot, they moved like scavengers. Like wild monkeys. Hunched forms, raised weapons. They were here to flush out the enemy, confident because of their numbers.

  Matilda shook her head. “Gracie really wasn’t exaggerating about the place coming to life, was she?”

  It took about a minute for the army to pass. William peered out of the window again, the force of the fresh wind in his face. “I think we’re clear for now. You ready for this?”

  “I’m not sure ready is the right word, but I can’t foresee a better time than now.”

  When William stood aside, Matilda frowned at him. He shrugged. “You’re the one who can see a route through this place. You’re a better runner and climber than I am. It makes sense for you to lead.”

  The deep intake of breath raised Matilda’s chest. She leaned forward and kissed William, lingering with their lips pressed together. A half smile. She winked at him. “Are you sure you can keep up?”

  “Don’t push it.”

  Matilda stepped from the window, and William followed. Fifteen to twenty feet from the ground, he took another moment in the full force of the cleansing wind.

  Light on her feet, Matilda crossed the metal walkway with damn near soundless steps. William’s tired body and clumsy gait denied his will to do the same. He moved like a farmer through a muddy field.

  The fire escape wobbled with their steps. At what point would it relinquish its grip on the crumbling building?

  Matilda jumped half of the last flight, and William followed suit. She landed like a cat. He landed like wet mud.

  William checked both ways while remaining on Matilda’s tail as she darted down a narrow alley, heading toward Gracie’s tower. Only four feet wide, their tight path clung onto the shadows of the previous evening.

  Despite Matilda running ahead of him, William saw it first. “Stop!”

  She halted at the end of the alley.

  The road ahead of them had been ripped up like the one between the three towers. A livid scar streaked through the broken asphalt. The sunlight glinted off a metal disc lying amongst the rubble. “Look.”

  “A mine,” Matilda said. “I didn’t see it at all.”

  Matilda led them around the corner on tiptoes, remaining close to the old shop on their left. A small strip of road close to the building remained intact. They had to trust there were no mines beneath it. They climbed the shop’s fire escape. Although why such a short building needed one … surely they could jump from the roof if their lives depended on it.

  The roof was only two stories from the ground. The tall metal tower in their sights, Matilda pointed to the building next to them and then the ones leading away from it. “We can get closer to the meeting point via the roofs, but we have to take a longer route.” She shrugged. “Better that than being torn to shreds by an exploding mine, eh?”

  More footsteps below. William walked to the edge of the roof, his steps crunching over the layer of white gravel covering it. He peered over. A group of red-uniformed soldiers came from the same alley they’d passed through. They pinned themselves to the wall and followed the same path William and Matilda had. “Are they following us?”

  Matilda drew a breath to reply, but the tock of steps against the metal fire escape said it for her. She mouthed the word, Shit!

  Matilda led the way, jumping across the small gap over the alley they and the soldiers had used. But instead of taking off across the next roof, she dropped to her front and shimmied up against a lip about a foot tall around the edge of the building.

  William copied her, the gravel on the flat roof digging into his chest. It made sense. If they continued running, the soldiers would see them. But how could they defend themselves when they lay on their bellies?

  Crunching steps signalled the first of the soldiers had made it to the roof. Could they outrun them if they needed to? Could William? Matilda could outrun most people, especially up high. Maybe they could shove them back if they jumped over. Only a two-storey fall, but it would at least slow them down.

  “You say you heard something?” one of the soldiers said.

  William’s heart slammed in his chest, and he chased his shallow breaths.

  “I dunno,” a deeper voice replied. “Maybe I imagined it.”

  The soldiers continued to walk towards the spot William and Matilda hid in. Slow and torturous, the steps closed in on them.

  “You found anything?” A girl’s voice this time. Farther away than the others. Maybe she remained on the fire escape.

  The shadows of the two boys leaned over them, stretching across onto the next roof. An inverse spotlight searching for the enemy. William lay tense, his hands balled. If they jumped across, he’d be ready.

  “No,” the deeper voice said, and one shadow withdrew. “Nothing.”

  The second shadow followed the first. The crunch of their steps back across the small stones on the roof. The tock of their retreat against the metal stairs, they headed back to the ground.

  William waited for Matilda. She poked her head over the wall and stood up. “Come on, let’s go.” She took off again across the rooftops. The alleys between each one stretched only a few feet at a time. Easy enough to cross, even for William.

  Several rooftops behind her, Matilda rested her hands on her hips and puffed as she walked to the edge of the next building. “We’ve gone as far as we can without going to ground.” She looked one way down the street and then the other. She ran to the other side and did the same. When she came back to William, she shook her head. “There aren’t any fire escapes. None of these buildings has one.”

  “So we have to go back?”

  Matilda returned to the edge of the building and peered over. “Do you trust me?”

  “With all my heart.”

  “Then follow me.” Matilda slid off the roof backwards and hung down. A six-inch-thick metal pipe ran straight to the ground. She kicked it twice. It held. She hooked her feet around it and then grabbed on with one hand and then the other.

  Backflips turned through William’s stomach when she let go of the roof’s edge. She shimmied down the pipe an inch at a time. She’d lowered herself about six feet when she reached out her right leg. At full stretch, she caught the window ledge leading to the first floor. Her right arm next, she clung on with her fingertips. She stretched between the pipe and the window like a star.

  William yelled when Matilda kicked away from the pipe and swung out like a loose door before she pulled herself in through the first-floor window
.

  At some point the adrenaline had to run out. And of course that would happen when he needed it most. While hanging from the roof, William’s aches returned with full force. His knuckles burned under the strain of his weight. He caught the drainpipe with one foot and then the other before reaching down and clamping onto the thick metal pole with both hands. The wind tugged on his clothes as he shimmied down, Matilda watching him from the safety of the building’s first floor.

  Battling his own trembling body, it might not have been far to the hard asphalt below, but it would still hurt if he fell. William stretched his leg across and caught the window ledge. His height should have given him an advantage over Matilda, but he didn’t have a shred of her skill or confidence.

  When William reached over and caught the inside of the window frame, Matilda stroked the back of his hand. The reassurance he needed. He kicked away from the pipe, swung out like Matilda had, and whimpered as he pulled himself into the building’s first floor.

  Matilda beamed and threw her arms around him. “Well done.” She kissed the side of his face five or six times before she let go. “Now let’s get moving.”

  The stairs inside the building were made from concrete. Once downstairs, Matilda led them to the road. The same road they’d avoided crossing because of the mines. The layer of asphalt on this section remained mostly intact, the cracks too small to have mines in them. “Do we trust it?” she said.

  William shrugged.

  “I can’t make this decision on my own.”

  “Sorry, you’re right.” William led the charge, sprinting across the road, checking left and right as he ran. He charged down another alley and halted at the end, another wide street separating them and a row of shops.

  “They’ve got fire escapes on them,” Matilda said.

  “You think we should go on the roofs again?”

  “It gives us a better vantage point and takes us closer to what looks like the final row of shops before we get to Gracie’s tower. You want me to lead?”

 

‹ Prev