by Sarah Fine
Treasa arched back helplessly as Keller bared his teeth, revealing his bright-red tongue. He shoved Treasa’s lifeless body off the edge of the truck before any of us could stop him. She disappeared beneath our wheels even as we called her name. The loader immediately slowed, then lurched forward as the vehicle behind us crashed into our rear, followed by echoing crashes all the way down the line. I threw myself at Keller as he tried to wrench the wheel and take us off the road. He’d been too covered in soot for us to see the truth until it was too late—he was one of the Tanner’s people and belonged to the city. He didn’t want to be freed.
I wrapped my arm around his neck in a stranglehold, but he jammed his blade back, forcing me to let go or lose an eye. Distantly, I was aware of Takeshi and Malachi shouting at each other about getting Treasa back on the vehicle, and of loping brown figures emerging from the buildings on either side of us and hanging out of the windows. This was an ambush, but since we were the lead vehicle, we had to get through or everyone else would be stuck. I jerked my knee up and hit Keller in the belly, then nailed him with an elbow strike to the jaw as he bent double. I tried to shove him over the side, but the asshole hung on, kicking at me.
I drew a knife and stabbed him in the leg. He toppled over the front of the loader, his arms waving.
Behind me, Takeshi shouted a warning as Mazikin jumped from the windows and onto our front loader. Ana was blinking and starting to stir, but she was still vulnerable. I wanted to protect her, but I had to get us moving again. With my shoulders hunched, protecting my neck against the claws I expected any second, I forced my way into the driver’s seat and glanced behind me. Malachi was clinging to the side of the loader, and Takeshi was on board, Treasa lying at his feet next to Ana. Somehow, Takeshi had unscrewed the bar we’d been holding on to and was swinging it like a staff. It took only a few seconds for him to clear the top of the loader, sending Mazikin flying in all directions. As he knelt to grab Malachi, I pressed the gas and moved us forward, crunching over Keller’s body. If we stayed still any longer, it was clear we were going to be overrun.
The Smith was bellowing into his bullhorn, telling everyone to go south, away from the water, but there were Mazikin crowded at a barrier a block in front of us. Their cloaks bore black triangles, and they were wielding blades. I slipped the grenade belt over my head and handed it back to Malachi. “Throw one to clear the way,” I said to him.
He pulled a grenade from its pouch, then got to his knees, trying to stay balanced as I bumped forward on the potholed road. He stared at a spot beyond the barrier and, with a smooth arcing motion, hurled the grenade into the air.
It landed quietly in the churning crowd, and Malachi began to count. “Slow down, Lela!” he shouted between numbers. “You’ll get there too—”
The explosion rattled my teeth. Screeches and shrieks and angry roars came from the smoky haze up ahead, but I merely squinted and hit the gas, bumping over Mazikin bodies toward the bright light ahead. The water below our tires was rising again, and far behind us, the deep booms of buildings collapsing continued to shake the ground. The whole city was caving in on itself, falling into the maze of caverns belowground, and our trailing vehicles could get caught in the destruction if I didn’t find a way through it fast.
I ran over dozens of Mazikin before they got smart and began to dodge out of the way. We were within five or six blocks of the gates now. Takeshi and Malachi were fighting off Mazikin who kept leaping onto the sides of the front loader. Ana was up, too, lying on her stomach and hurling knives at the charging beasts. But Treasa was completely lifeless, her body destroyed. One look at her told me there was nothing of her left to protect. Malachi had positioned himself near my back to prevent any of the Mazikin from climbing up the side and taking me down. At block four, I had him toss another grenade to clear the way again. I stomped on the gas pedal before the smoke had even cleared.
Hugely stupid move. The explosion had hit a weak spot in the road and created a deep crater, and before I could swerve, we hit it at top speed. The impact crunched me against the steering wheel and threw all my passengers to the ground as the loader flipped on its side. My shoulder hit the cement. I couldn’t draw breath, and by the time I managed to get to my feet, I was behind a wall of people. Ana, Takeshi, and Malachi, plus several of the Smith’s men, were all trying to push forward through the vicious Mazikin to get to the gates. Over the noise of battle, I could hear a growling voice over a bullhorn.
“It’s Ibram,” shouted Malachi. “He says to give up or we’ll all be gutted and stashed in a cavern to rot.”
The Smith shouted back, standing high on his vehicle as his people circled him, desperately trying to hold back the Mazikin who had climbed the sides of his loader. He was yelling encouragement in as many languages as he knew, but the Mazikin were closing in. We were only two blocks from the gates, and now I could see the rows of cloaked Mazikin barring the way. Ibram stood in front of them with his bullhorn, snarling in Mazikin. His fanged smile was visible, even from a distance.
“Keep pushing forward,” Ana screamed, her voice cracking as Mazikin overwhelmed the Smith’s loader. They tore the bullhorn from his hands, and horror filled his eyes as one of the monsters locked its jaws onto his throat. He toppled backward, even as his people fought to save him and themselves. His voice fell silent, and Ibram filled the gap with his hateful growling. Frightened faces turned to me, to us, to the Guards, searching for a signal. I spun and looked toward the light, so close but out of reach.
“We can’t win,” I whispered to myself. We had no choice but to try, though. The people behind us had to keep moving or they’d be caught by the water, crushed by the collapsing buildings, maybe trapped for eternity. We couldn’t surrender.
Ana must have agreed. Clutching at her barely healed stomach, she shouted, “Malachi, throw another grenade!”
“We’re too far,” he called out as he jammed his knife through the skull of an oncoming Mazikin. “We only have two left, and if I miss—” He stopped abruptly and looked over his shoulder at me, then fell back. The human fighters in front closed the gap to keep trying to push ahead. Takeshi was still swinging his staff, holding the creatures off while Ana slashed weakly with her knives. But there were so many Mazikin in front of us that we’d reached our limit. We couldn’t move forward. And now that the Smith had been overwhelmed, more were closing in from behind. Malachi’s hand closed over my shoulder, and then he swung me close. “I can get us out.”
“What? You said it was too far, too much of a risk—”
He pulled my face to his, his kiss hard and searching. It was over quickly, and when I looked down, he had our last two grenades in his hands. “Malachi—”
“I love you,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine, so close our noses touched. “I’m in love with your strength, your determination, the way you never ever give up. These people need those things from you now.” He closed his eyes for the barest second, then kissed me again and smiled—a beautiful smile. “And they need this from me. This is my atonement, Lela. This is what I was meant for.”
He let me go and tossed one of the grenades high in the air, landing it halfway between where we stood and the gate. Then he plunged forward into the Mazikin horde, and never in all the times I’d seen him fight had he been more deadly. With his short, sharp, devastating movements, he downed Mazikin after Mazikin, breaking bones, slashing with brutal accuracy and decisive strength, moving so quickly that none of them could stop him.
I started to follow, but the explosion knocked me back, and I landed on Nazir. He blinked at the sky for a moment before his hands closed around my arms. We shoved up to our feet. My ears were ringing, but my vision was clear.
Within the haze, a single figure ran toward the locked gates, into the knot of elite Mazikin defenders tasked with keeping that metal barrier closed at all costs. Malachi was nearly there, having cleared away most of the h
orde within a one-block radius, but the Mazikin he’d passed were chasing him. He was surrounded by at least thirty of them. Ibram had tossed his bullhorn aside and charged forward.
He landed on Malachi’s back, taking him down only feet from the gates. Takeshi, Ana, and I surged toward the Mazikin who were piling onto Malachi. A horrible sense of certainty washed over me as one of them raised its curving razor claws and slashed them down.
I don’t know if they ever hit home. The explosion ripped sound from my mind. Heat enveloped me as I watched in silent, terrible realization. Bodies tumbled through the air, and smoke billowed. My voice broke as I tried to call Malachi’s name. He’d set off the last grenade. Right there at the gates. In the midst of all the Mazikin. He had been right there. I crawled forward. All around me, people sprinted past. And when the smoke cleared, I saw smiles, eyes filled with hope. Ahead of me, beyond a smoking black crater, there was nothing but open space.
The gates were open. And Malachi was gone.
TWENTY-FIVE
PEOPLE POURED THROUGH THE open gates like the river that was chasing us, headed for the light on the other side. Arms lifted me to my feet. Ana and Takeshi’s lips formed words I couldn’t hear.
Malachi, I mouthed. Where is he?
They shook their heads.
I stumbled forward, supported by my fellow Guards. My footsteps shuffled into the shallow black crater and out the other side, smearing ash on my toes as tendrils of smoke spiraled into the air. If he were killed, wouldn’t he be right here, beyond the gates? Shouldn’t he be waiting for me?
I scanned the crowd, all the faces blurring as they scrambled out of the Mazikin city. So many faces streaked by—some of them strangers, some vaguely familiar. I dug in my heels, trying to slow down, but Ana and Takeshi kept pulling me toward the light. Finally, I yanked my arms from their grip, needing to find Malachi before I did anything else. I knew he’d be waiting there. Maybe he needed me.
I stood in the sandy space where I’d first entered the dome. People and vehicles swarmed around the black crater. Faraway screams and cries filled the air as broken, wounded people ran, stumbled, crawled toward freedom. Some of them carried others on their backs or dragged the injured through the sand.
Malachi wasn’t among them. He wasn’t there. I looked back at the opening in the dome, which had been torn like a curtain, ragged edges flapping in the desert wind. A massive crowd stood in the sand outside, bathed in white light, and still more were coming as the Mazikin tried to stop anyone they could. A few yards away, one Mazikin leaped on top of a woman and angrily twisted her neck, then tore her head off. I blinked, expecting her to appear in the space where I was standing, but all I felt was a breeze streaking by my cheek.
The dome was open. She wasn’t trapped in the city anymore. Her soul was free to go wherever she belonged, be it the Countryside or whatever realm she needed or deserved. And that meant it was the same for Malachi, who had set off that grenade intentionally, knowing he’d be reduced to ash.
Malachi had killed himself.
“Oh God,” I whispered. Was he in the dark city now? Rage twisted inside me as tears burned my eyes. I swayed in place, watching the Mazikin go after the stragglers.
I’m in love with your strength, your determination, the way you never ever give up. These people need those things from you now.
Those were his last words to me. Not Help me, find me, weep for me. Not Love me, save me, remember me. Help them, he’d said. It was what he’d sacrificed himself for, why he’d suffered. He’d dreamed of seeing these people freed. This was why he’d fought for so long, and so hard, and at such a high price. He had atoned.
But there was still work to be done.
No matter where he was now, I knew what he’d want. He would never abandon these souls, would never fall to his knees and grieve, would never surrender. And neither would I.
I drew the one remaining knife I had and ran back toward the city. Only a few blocks away, buildings shook and crumbled as pieces of the dome cracked and tore, like some kind of stiff fabric. Most of the Mazikin had fled, but a few who wore the black triangle remained, tearing through the humans as they tried to get through the open gate. “Ana, Takeshi!” I shouted. “Help!”
I didn’t wait to see if they were coming to my aid. I charged up to one of the Mazikin guards and threw myself onto its back, plunging my knife into its ear and riding it to the ground. Before I could get to my feet, another landed on me, and I got my hands in front of my neck a split second before it slashed at my throat. I lunged to the side, twisting to ram my knife between its ribs. Its eyes bugged and its tongue lolled as it hit the cement, and my fingers were wet with its blood as I reclaimed my blade.
I have no idea how many Mazikin I killed or how many people I helped escape. While the city collapsed around me, I became a machine, ignoring the pain in my body and the knot of despair in my heart, focusing only on getting every single living soul through the gates. Takeshi and Ana ran past me a few times, helping stragglers limp toward freedom, protecting them from desperate, ravaging Mazikin. I felt the faint warmth of gratitude, knowing they were making Malachi’s sacrifice count.
I ventured in another block, to the blood-splashed overturned vehicles that had piled up within sight of freedom. Water lapped at my ankles as I marched along, searching for anyone left alive who might need help getting out. Few Mazikin remained, and those who did skulked in the open first floors of the buildings that were still standing. Their ears were flat to their heads, their tongues hanging out as they panted their anxiety. The city was doomed, and they could probably smell death in the air.
Eventually, I reached the loader where the Smith had been perched, shouting to his people through his bullhorn. Just as I was wondering if he’d gotten out, I spotted him, lying crumpled and gasping against a tire. I knelt next to him, trying to pull him up, only to discover that one of his legs was hanging by a thread and he had a terrible wound in his throat. The creatures had torn him open and abandoned him to suffer, and in the chaos, he’d been left behind.
“Come on,” I huffed, trying to pull him to a stand.
He let out a hoarse groan. “No. I’m too heavy.”
“We have to go, dude,” I said, getting behind him and sliding an arm under his shoulders.
“Are there others?” he asked between wheezes. “Get the others.”
I looked around, but not a single live human remained. Plenty of headless, destroyed bodies, but no living people. Except for him. “No one else. Come with me. I’ll help you.”
His dark eyes met mine. “You would be doing me a favor, you know.”
I shook my head. “No. You can make it. Your people are waiting for you.”
He gave a pained chuckle. “And you think I could lead them through the desert beyond this dome?” He glanced down at his leg. “No, Guard. You will lead them for me. Let me go. Help me go.”
“But you don’t know where you’ll end up,” I said. “Really, you don’t—”
“Wherever the Judge decides I go, I’m sure I’ve earned it.” He nailed me with a piercing gaze. “Don’t fail me.” His short, thick fingers closed over my right hand, the one that held the knife. “And make it quick, if you don’t mind.”
I placed my hand on the side of his face, letting my thumb stroke down his homely, weathered cheek. I closed my eyes. And when I opened them, I didn’t hesitate or let myself think about it. I used every ounce of merciless strength I possessed, and I cut decisively, and when I was sure it was enough, I didn’t look down. I got to my feet and walked. Past the overturned loader, past the place where Malachi had kissed me good-bye, past the spot where he’d sacrificed himself so everyone else could be free, and through the gates. Beyond the dome, the masses of people churned, so many that the desert seemed full. The world behind me was breaking, tearing, collapsing in on itself. Like my heart.
I st
alked through the tear in the dome, not bothering to look up at the source of the bright light that covered the endless crowd of people. Ana and Takeshi were standing with a few men with rag-wrapped feet, wearing stained, worn leather armor. One of them, a muscular blond with harsh features, looked up as I came toward them.
“Lela,” said Ana, gesturing to the man and his comrades, “these are the Guards of the Wasteland. They’ve been tasked with helping us get these folks to the Countryside. And this”—she put her arm around the blond guy—“is Sascha. He helped me when I came here before, and he gathered the others to guide everyone through the desert.”
Sascha. The name was familiar, but I was too dazed and destroyed to find a connection. “Good,” was all I could say. “That’s good.”
Sascha stood up a little taller. He towered over the rest of us. “We need to get these people moving,” he said in thickly accented English. “It’s not an easy journey.”
He strode forward, followed by the other Guards. Ana stayed behind.
“Don’t ask me how I am,” I said quietly.
“I won’t. But Lela, listen to me: what Malachi did?” She gestured at the enormous throng of people spread across the desert in front of us. “This is what he wanted. It’s what he’s needed. For so long.”
“I know.”
She remained in front of me for another second, then released my shoulder and turned on her heel. She reached Takeshi and took his hand, smiling up at him with hard-won happiness on her face. The crowd parted for them, needing to be led, and then swallowed them up as everyone began to follow.
I knew she expected me to do the same, but I couldn’t get my feet to take another step.
“You don’t have to. The others will take care of it now,” said a voice from behind me. One I recognized well. I turned to see the Mazikin city sinking and crumbling into the sand as the dome sealed itself up again. And Raphael, standing in front of it like he saw this kind of thing every day. His face was glowing, too bright for me to look at for long.