The Tremblers

by Raquel Byrnes

  He staggered, shocked.

  “You did this?” I yanked my glove off, holding my shaking hand in front of him. “You are the cause of this Trembling blight?”

  He stared, backing up. “You’ve been infected. How?”

  “What have you done?” I moved toward him and pulled the spectacles from my face.

  “Y—your eyes.” He gasped, putting his hand over his mouth.

  “My father discovered your guilt and you tried to stop him from exposing the t—truth.” My teeth chattered violently, chopping up my words.

  Rothfair’s expression twisted in horror.

  “Do the Governors know about the sickness?” Obviously they did. How else would Rothfair, a private citizen, have soldiers under his orders? Betrayal rocked through me.

  “Your father stumbled upon something he didn’t understand.” Holding a handkerchief to his mouth and nose, he took a step away. “If he had only spoken with me—”

  “You would have what…had him over for tea and explained it all?”

  “He is a traitor to the Peaceful Union,” Rothfair shouted. “If he learned what this is and how to stop it he meant to sell it to those bent on destroying the Union. Defiance cannot have the cure. They will use it to leverage a rebellion.”

  “You can’t know that!”

  “You are a stupid girl if you think this sickness can’t be used to grab for power. I have not sacrificed my own facilities for naught.”

  “But my father would only want to help others…”

  “That is why I thought to bargain with him, but he disappeared. I had no choice but to take him when he resurfaced.”

  “You have him?” I quaked, my entire body shivering. “You?”

  “He is safe. Give me the journal and I will take you to him.”

  “Where, to prison? To be executed alongside him?”

  “He’s not in prison, Charlotte.” His smooth voice did not match the vehemence in his eyes. Body in coiled tension, Lord Rothfair appeared ready to pounce despite his words. “Let me show—”

  “It’s hidden,” I snapped. “At the rail station in a safe place.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s why I was there.” I leaned against a support column struggling through the tremors. Please don’t let me lose control, not now. “If your men finally got through the hatch to the maintenance rooms then they most likely passed it without knowing.”

  A woman’s scream echoed down the hallway followed by the shouting of a child.

  My heart tumbled.

  Moira and Tommy.

  A soldier ran into the room. “We spotted a woman and boy running toward the solarium.”

  “Chase them down. They are traitors too,” Rothfair ordered. Pulling a tracer gun from his pocket, he leveled it at me. “I don’t think you would let that book out of your sight. I think you have it on you this very moment.”

  My hand went instinctively to the book nestled against my stomach.

  Rothfair smiled.

  He had me. Trying to cover, I straightened both arms out at my sides. “You’re welcome to search me,” I said and blew out, the pale puff of chilled air hovering between us. “If you dare to get too close.”

  Rothfair’s hand shook, the tracer whirring before his gaze darkened and he shrugged. “Fine.”

  He shot me, the whip of light hitting me square in the chest.

  I screamed, slamming back against the column, momentarily stunned by the crackling energy crawling over my arms and legs.

  He leapt at me, pulling at my bodice, but there was no pain.

  No disabling burn from the charge like at the rail station. Only cold numbness and I broke from my daze, lashing at him with my nails, scratching at his eyes.

  Rothfair aimed the gun at my head and I snapped my face to the side, biting down on the flesh below his thumb. He screamed, rearing back, and swung, striking my cheek. The blow sent pinpricks across my vision, stunning me. Rothfair brought his hand up again when an explosion rocketed through the museum chamber throwing us against the far wall.

  The blast rattled every bone in my body and I curled into myself, covering against the falling plaster from the ceiling.

  Shards of glass from the display windows sliced through the air. Statues barreled across the room.

  I groaned, pain shooting through my head as I fought to stay conscious.

  In the momentary silence that followed, Rothfair crawled toward me through the smoke. Ears ringing, vision blurred with the flash, I scuttled on hands and knees tangling with my skirts as I tried to get away.

  Rothfair grabbed onto my forearm. His face bloodied and scratched, he pulled me toward him. “You cannot understand the power that information wields.” He spat, blood from his split lips dribbled onto his chin. “It is both the destruction and the salvation of our people.”

  I watched him with growing horror. “You cannot keep it from everyone,” I shouted. “They have a right to know.”

  “They don’t want to know what it costs to stay alive!”

  Another blast down the hall shook the building and he loosened his grip.

  I kicked, sending him tumbling back as I staggered to my feet.

  Tommy appeared in the haze, his young face soot-streaked. “Let’s go, Miss Blackburn, we have to run!” He yanked on my arm, pulling me along. “My sister has weapons, she’s just up there!”

  “Is Lizzie here?” I tripped, blindly following him in the smoke and debris.

  Rothfair shrieked my name, a ribbon of tracer fire searing past my ear as he shot haphazardly from the floor.

  “Not yet!” Tommy tugged me aside a second before another tracer ribbon shot through the room.

  “I—it’s only you two?” How could mere children be the only ones here?

  “We’ve been enough so far, ma’am,” Tommy shouted over his shoulder as we ran. Down the hallway, past the prone figures of two soldiers, Tommy led me along the littered corridor. We pushed through the doors, past the Egyptian artifacts, running for the windowed walkway connecting the museum to the solarium orchards.

  Behind us, Rothfair rounded the turn, heading straight for us.

  “Tommy, Miss Blackburn!” Moira motioned from across the span. She held the doors to the solarium wing open with bandaged hands. “Run!”

  We crossed the threshold, the windowed tunnel connecting the two buildings lit with the setting sun’s orange light. A jagged thread of energy snapped over our heads, bursting across a row of glass panes.

  Tommy screamed, going down.

  I scooped him into my arms, running with leaden limbs.

  “Stop, Blackburn,” Rothfair shouted, letting loose another volley of fire that rained glass and debris down on us.

  I shielded Tommy’s face the best I could, nearly going down as I stumbled on broken slivers underfoot.

  “Duck!” Moira tossed something over our heads, but I was already tumbling to the floor with Tommy in my arms.

  A fireball erupted behind us on the walkway, blocking Rothfair. Conflagration bombs. The wall of flames would last only sixty seconds. Enough to get away.

  “Go,” I urged, pushing Tommy toward his sister. “Get to the other side.”

  “What about you?” His wide eyes met mine.

  “I am fine.” I gave him a gentle shove and he ran off, glancing behind him. I waited until he was a few feet away to assess the damage.

  A shaft of glass protruded from my thigh and blood oozed in a steady stream from the wound. It hurt, deep and aching, but I expected more. The numbness had worsened and dread gripped me. I hobbled on one foot, dragging my leg as I tried to make it to Moira. The firestorm ebbed, and I could make out Rothfair as he took aim.

  Almost halfway there, I spied the whirring rotors of an aero ship through the ruined windows. It sliced through the fog. He’d called for help.

  Moira’s scream ripped my gaze back to the walkway. The remaining two soldiers held her and Tommy captive. She struggled, pulling s
omething from the satchel at her waist.

  “The child’s freedom for yours,” Rothfair shouted through the dying flames. He held his weapon aloft, aimed at my head. “Then again, I could always use small bodies in the mine shafts.”

  “Miss Blackburn,” Moira rasped, glancing down. She held an impact grenade just under her servant’s smock.

  I didn’t understand. Did she mean to blow us all up?

  Before I could react, she flicked the tension coil and tossed the grenade over my head.

  I dove again, screaming as the explosion concussed in a solid wave along the glass walls.

  Windows erupted into a storm of flying slivers. Tearing metal groans shook the structure, and I seized the railing as the entire floor shifted.

  The walkway tore from the museum side, obscuring Rothfair in a torrent of debris, and hurtled down to the ground floor with a bone-jarring crash. The bare cage of the walkway, bent downwards, angled into a giant slide as glass, wood, and debris toppled toward me.

  I dangled from the beam, holding on with sheer shock. Ahead of me, the blast had thrown Moira, Tommy, and the soldiers to the ground. They moved.

  “Go, Moira!” I yelled. “Get up now!”

  She stirred, gaped down at me, and then grabbed for Tommy. They ran back through the solarium.

  Arms shaking from the strain of holding on, my fingers slipped and I cried out, my heart stuttering.

  The aero ship hovering just away from the building sounded a blaring horn and tracer lashes sliced from the deck. The lightning-bright streams sizzled as they traced a trail up the side of the walkway.

  I would burn for sure.

  Below, Lizzie skidded into view astride a power-cycle. She hefted something onto her shoulder, and a tremendous flare erupted at her back. A cone of fire launched across the night searing the undercarriage of the aero ship and setting the wood rotors afire. They veered away, trailing smoke as they wobbled mid-air, losing altitude.

  In that moment, my numb hands gave out and I fell from the beam, slamming down onto the tilting walkway.

  Rothfair fired from the ragged hole torn in the museum wall, burning a path along my side, barely missing me.

  Tripping and tumbling down, I found my feet, just as I hit the last few yards, sliding on the soles of my boots and hopping onto the ground with bewilderment. I stumbled toward Lizzie, who lifted her goggles and stared at me with open-mouthed wonder.

  “Tell me you planned that.”

  “I had everything going much different in my mind,” I confessed, dusting my skirts.

  She shook her head with a chuckle, her gaze traveling down to my feet. “Nice dress, Charlie, the Debutante.”

  32

  She stomped on the kick-starter a third time, muttering under her breath. “I should have known this contraption was on its last legs,” she growled.

  “This is Ashton’s power-cycle.” I flinched when scorched boards from the aero ship clattered on the ground next to me.

  Circling overhead, it listed on only one blimp, the hull engulfed in flames.

  “How…? Is he safe?”

  The power-cycle roared to life and she leaned over, adjusting the knobs on the casing under the seat. “Get on!” Lizzie shouted, “We can talk about how it came into my possession later.”

  “What about Moira and Tommy?” I scanned the building, eyes watering with the smoke erupting from the second floor.

  “They have a fallback position,” Lizzie yelled, yanking on my sleeve. “Let’s go.”

  Rothfair’s figure emerged from the museum’s loading dock doors. He stumbled, coughing. “Blackburn!”

  “Ignore him,” Lizzie said, revving the cycle once more. “Get on!”

  Twenty yards away, a steam carriage stood near the loading dock entrance and Rothfair ran to it. He banged on the side, shouting, and I paused, perplexed that he wasn’t trying to get to me.

  “Charlie,” Lizzie said, her voice strained. “Don’t…”

  The side panel of the carriage slid aside and my knees nearly buckled beneath me. My father, strapped to a large wooden chair, stared out at me. His white hair stuck out from his head, and his clothes hung off his body, but he was alive and right in front of me.

  “Papa?” I took a step forward, my heart ramming in my throat.

  Rothfair stood there, staring with intensity.

  “Charlotte, don’t,” Lizzie warned.

  “He’s here, Charlotte.” Rothfair jumped onto the bed of the wagon. He put his hand on my father’s shoulder, beckoning with his other. “Do this together. Save the people, together.”

  “Papa,” I staggered, arms out, my chest erupting in a sob. He looked fine. He didn’t tremble. “You’re alive!”

  Lizzie leapt at me, her arms wrapped around my middle as I strained for my father. “Look at him!”

  “Let me go!” I screamed, wrestling with her. “Let me go!” Quakes started in my middle; tiny tremors that flooded to my limbs as we tussled.

  “See what’s there!” She took me to the ground, sitting on my back as I clawed at the gravel, shouting for him. “Really look, Charlie!”

  “No, I…” He looked wrong. His lips were slack from lack of teeth, his eyes dark as obsidian, skin pale and blue as if he’d been pulled from a frozen lake.

  A cry of anguish erupted from my chest, keening and painful, it warbled out of me filling the air as I shuddered uncontrollably. Blood pulsed through my brain, surging with hunger and fear as I thrashed. An answering howl tore over the ground and my gaze went to my father. Head thrown back, body shaking the chair with tremendous force, he snarled through snapping jaws.

  Rothfair toppled back, falling to the ground.

  “Pull back,” Lizzie shouted, pinning my cheek to the dirt with her palm, she leaned over, screaming in my face. A stabbing pain pierced my shoulder. She’d injected me. “Pull it back down, Charlie, now!”

  I blinked, sudden clarity sharpening her features. I gritted my teeth, straining against the trembling of my own body, willing it to still as I fought the noise in my mind. Seething anger and fear subsided, replaced with overwhelming sorrow. I cried, the dust of the ground filling my mouth with bitter sobs. “Papa…”

  Over her shoulder, Rothfair rose from behind the wagon.

  Lizzie turned, pulled her revolver, and fired.

  He dove back down, shooting as he went.

  “We have to go, Charlie,” she panted, rolling to her feet and offering me her hand. “He’s gone, love. Your daddy’s not there anymore. It’s been too long.”

  “Blackburn,” Rothfair shouted.

  I turned, my hands going to my mouth.

  He held the tracer to my father’s heart. “You’ll be killing him if you run.”

  My father lunged, biting at Rothfair like a rabid dog. Blood flew from his mouth as he tore himself to pieces with every tremor. He yanked back and forth in the bindings and then a resounding crack sounded, his arm breaking. He howled with pain.

  “He’s breaking apart…” I whispered, and my stomach lurched, bile rising. Pain. Fear. Hunger.

  “You’ve already killed him!” I snatched an Impact Grenade from Lizzie’s belt, flipped the coil, and hurled it at the wagon.

  Rothfair dove away as the device arched through the air.

  My gaze locked with the monster that was my father, his hissing snaps twisted my heart. The explosion rocked me back on my heels, scorching air flaring my hair and dress back as I stood and watched the fire take what was left of my life. Tears stinging my eyes, I took one last look at the solarium side of the building and hopped on the back of the cycle.

  Lizzie sped away.

  Over my shoulder, the flaming debris from the disintegrating aero ship dropped onto the building and ground, lighting up the darkened area with shifting shadows. The clanging bell of approaching Fire Crew wagons clashed with the clamor of curious onlookers watching the rescue of the collapsing museum.

  I held onto Lizzie, her riotous curls flying into my e
yes and mouth as we raced away, down the back streets and unlit avenues of Mid-City. We passed vendors pushing their carts home and filament-lamp igniters as we raced through the sinuous lanes. The sensations grounded me in the moment and I concentrated on my breathing. We rode seemingly forever, weaving through dirt roads rife with tall grass, along alleys lined with warehouse buildings gone to ruin, and past miles of empty, jagged streets no longer in use. Always with the dome’s spectral glow at our side.

  “Are you all right, Charlie?” Lizzie asked over her shoulder.

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Instead I nodded once, staring out at the passing buildings. My hands, numb and barely able to keep hold of Lizzie’s waist, trembled slightly.

  “We found them.” Lizzie shifted in her seat, pointing to the row of lights seemingly floating in empty darkness. Through the grid of energy protecting the city, the warning lights for metal-clad steamers lined the outskirts of the bay.

  “The wharf?” I didn’t understand.

  “No, before that.” Lizzie handed back a compass overlaid with several articulated lenses.

  I peered at the miniscule map. “The Strait. You mean the East River?” Alarm rose within me. Not the water. Please, not the water.

  “In a manner of speaking…” she pulled away from the road, down the path leading to the row of metal warehouses along the water’s edge.

  Through the crackling scent of ozone, a hint of sea air hit me as we rolled to a stop near the purple glow of the Tesla Dome’s boundary. Salty and acrid with poison, the wind off the water made me cough. We rolled to a stop and Lizzie hopped off the power-cycle, pushing up her goggles.

  She eyed me as I dismounted, her lips pursed. “You going to fall apart or…?”

  “No, I’m...I think I am far too exhausted to cry anymore.” My voice broke and I rubbed my shoulder, the pain of the injection spreading. “What did you give me?”

  “It was Ashton’s idea,” she said pulling off her gloves. “Moira sent someone to the safe house after your missive reached her.”

  “Is he…” she put her hand up, stopping me.

  “He’s fine. In a bit of pain, but better.” She raised a brow. “He’s also livid.”