by Posey, Jay
Finn led them with a steady but cautious pace and as they went, Cass noticed that the level of devastation seemed to be gradually lessening. The city was more familiar here, more recognizable. There was still damage everywhere she looked, but more of the buildings were intact, fewer of the streets were choked with wreckage. Nothing had fully escaped the ravages of the Weir, but it was like a fire had spent its fury too soon, leaving a greater portion scorched, coated in ash, but otherwise standing.
Cass estimated they were two hundred yards or so from the compound when she first noticed the change. There was something subtly different, a feeling as she moved along the street, though at first she couldn’t quite place what it was. It was several seconds before she realized there was a new component to the unusual scent that clung in the air. It was faint, but sharper, coppery. Once she had identified it, she couldn’t help but notice it seemed to be getting gradually stronger. And then she noticed a strange noise accompanying their footfalls; a slight tearing or sucking sound with each step, like peeling something up from a damp carpet. Like the smell in the air, the sound grew more distinct the closer they approached to the governor’s compound. Cass had been keeping her eyes up, searching for threats, but now she glanced down at the ground. The concrete was darker here than she remembered it, coated in a gummy grit. That was what had started making the sound; the ground was sticky.
When she looked back up, the team was just moving into view of the governor’s compound, but though normally they would have been able to see the main courtyard from their position, it was obscured by a huge mound of rubble and debris. The midmorning sun was bright behind it, and its jagged silhouette made it hard to tell what comprised it, but it seemed that the Weir had dragged all the wreckage from the surrounding area and piled it up in front of the compound. It was hard to judge the scale of it at distance because it was out in the open area with not much around it to compare it to. As they continued their approach to the compound, it became increasingly clear that the pile was truly enormous; almost a small hill.
Cass’s mind started racing. Apart from her experience at Ninestory, she had no knowledge or memory of where the Weir typically lived. Did they nest? At Ninestory, they’d hidden inside the buildings during the day, a fact Wick and Finn had discovered at frightening cost. But the mountain of ruin that was before them now looked like a giant anthill, its material gathered together from whatever could be torn from the surroundings. That would explain the destruction they’d seen on the way in, why certain structures had been targeted while others went untouched. Cass’s heart revolted at the idea that the pile might in fact be a hive full of Weir. It was strange though. As she’d already noticed, many of the buildings here were still generally intact. Why had the Weir dragged so much material back from the outer parts of the city?
Gamble clicked on through the channel.
“Eyes open. First sign of trouble, we head right back out the way we came. Finn, take it reeeeal slow.”
“Check,” Finn responded.
Finn dropped the pace down again as they continued their approach. Within a hundred yards of the debris pile, the tackiness of the ground had increased to the point that Cass could actually feel it pulling at the bottom of her shoes. She glanced down again to see what was causing it. It was almost like a thin layer of tar.
“Dear God,” Sky said aloud. Not through the channel, but actually out loud. Cass looked to him and then followed his gaze to what had caused the reaction. A thin cloud had moved across the sun, cutting the glare so that it no longer blinded them to the nature of the heap. Not debris.
Bodies.
Hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of corpses. Death on an unfathomable scale.
Cass looked down at the ground again and knew with sudden, horrible clarity what had so stained the ground. Asher’s pronouncement of doom over the city echoed in her mind anew. That he would slake the thirst of Death with their blood, and glut the mouth of hell with their flesh. And here before them now was Asher’s great monument, his utter desecration.
When Cass looked upon it again, something inside her broke. She knew she should be feeling horror and revulsion at the abomination outside the governor’s gate. Instead, she felt nothing. It was as if her mind, unable to comprehend the reality, had flipped a safety switch and completely detached her emotions. Her eyes roved over the pile, taking in details: faces, hands, shoes. Even those details weren’t enough for her mind to grasp hold of, to understand that the hill was not a single entity unto itself, but was instead comprised of countless individuals. Had that mass of dead flesh ever been actual living, breathing people? And yet it was impossible to tear her eyes away, for to look away was to accept what she was seeing as reality or to dismiss it as illusion, and she could do neither.
“Why would they do that?” Finn said, using the secure comm channel, and the question brought Cass back to herself. How long they’d all stood there in silence, Cass didn’t know; she realized she’d ceased to notice even time passing. From his voice, she could tell how shaken Finn was.
“They didn’t,” Cass answered. “It was Asher. That’s Asher’s doing. His signature, so everyone would know this wasn’t just the work of the Weir.”
“What are we doin’, Ace?” Sky asked. Cass looked over at the team lead; Gamble was staring hard at the pile, her mouth drawn in a tight, thin line. She didn’t respond immediately. Several seconds passed.
“Ace?”
“I heard you,” she answered, her tone clipped. After a few more seconds, she said. “Circle around, we’ll hit the gate on the other side.”
“You still wanna go in there?” Finn asked. It wasn’t a challenge, but Cass could hear the uncertainty in the words. Uncharacteristic of Finn. Completely understandable.
“If we don’t get the gear out of there, we’re not gonna be long for this world.”
“You think it’s clear?” asked Sky.
“We’ll find out.”
“We have to do something about those bodies,” Mouse said.
“Do what, Mouse?” Gamble said.
“We can’t just leave ’em like that,” Mouse replied. “Out in the open, to rot.”
“Brother,” Gamble said, turning to him, and her voice was warmer and kinder than Cass could remember ever having heard. “I know. That’s my whole life, too. And I can’t tell if I’m so angry it’s making me sick, or if I’m so sick it’s making me angry. But if we had a month with nothing else to do, that right there would still be too much for us.”
He was silent while the truth of the matter sank in. Cass’s mind hadn’t even tried to imagine what Mouse was talking about. What would they do? Bury them? Burn them? The magnitude of either of those tasks was beyond Cass’s ability to comprehend in any meaningful way. How could you bury an entire city?
“You think Swoop’s in there?” Mouse said.
No one responded at first. And then.
“I could check,” Finn answered. He turned to look back over his shoulder at Gamble. “What do you think, G?”
“Tell me about risk level,” Gamble said.
Finn gave a little half-shrug. “Maybe none. Might be just the thing to tell the thousand Weir hiding in that compound that we’re at the door.”
Gamble weighed the options. After a moment, she said, “Hold off for now. I’m gonna go in, see if I can get to the cage. If I don’t wake anything up, we’ll load what we can. Then you can check for Swoop on our way out.”
“Let me,” Cass said. “Let me go in.”
Gamble glanced over and shook her head.
“Gamble, I’m faster, I’m stronger. I can go where you can’t. I can see what you can’t.” Cass removed her veil, revealed her Weir-eyes to emphasize her point. “And if there are any Weir in there, they might not even react to me.”
“You don’t know that,” Gamble said.
“No, I don’t. But I do know how they’d react to you,” Cass answered. “Let me go in and scout it out at least.”
“I can’t allow that, Cass,” Gamble said. Cass opened her mouth to argue, but Gamble held up her hand. “I appreciate it, I do. But if something went wrong, you wouldn’t be able to coordinate a response. You’re right, on your own you’re way better suited for this than I am. But this is a team job, and you don’t know how to run a team. So it’s gotta be me.”
“You oughta both go,” Mouse said. Gamble looked over at him with a hint of frustration, but Mouse continued with a shrug of one shoulder. “You’re both right. So put Miss Cass on point, and you back her up.”
Gamble looked around at each of them in turn and when she reached Cass, she shook her head. She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t argue.
“You guys are going to be the death of me,” she said. And then she held up her pointer finger and made three small circles in the air which, judging from the reaction of the three men, meant something like let’s get to it.
Finn resumed the point position and led them around to one of the other gates. It too was open, and he paused just outside. Gamble motioned for Sky. He glanced around at the buildings outside the compound and after a few moments, signaled back to her his preferred position. Gamble nodded. Sky winked at her and then headed off across the open ground towards the building he’d indicated, with Finn in tow.
Gamble took over and led Cass and Mouse into the courtyard of the compound. They came in from the side of the main building, moving at a slow walk. Cass scanned the exterior of the building, the place she’d called home for the past year. Inside the compound walls, everything was almost exactly as she remembered it. An island untouched by the storm that had ravaged everything just beyond its borders. Uncanny. The Weir had breached Morningside here, coming up through the emergency tunnel that led from the compound out under the city’s wall; the tunnel that had long been a closely-guarded secret. Given the level of destruction outside the compound, Cass had assumed that it would be at its worst here, where the fury of the Weir was first unleashed. Instead, it was as if the compound had been the eye of the storm, the center of calm while the tempest raged all around.
They circled around to the front of the building, where a long concrete staircase led up to the main entrance. The heavy doors at the top were closed. Gamble stopped at the base of the stairs and surveyed the building, searching for signs of what might lay within. Cass and Mouse drew up close on either side of her.
“Hey, Ace,” Sky’s voice came across the secure channel, “we’re set. I’ve got eyes on you right now.”
“Check,” Gamble whispered back. There was a slight echo to it from Cass’s perspective; she heard the whisper both from Gamble’s mouth and as it transmitted with a slight delay across the comms. Normal pimming was instantaneous, but also sent a burst of signal that the Weir could track. Whatever system Gamble’s team had figured out was low-frequency enough to escape the Weir’s notice, but the delay was one of the side-effects.
Mouse went up the stairs first and Gamble followed after, but motioned for Cass to hold where she was. At the front entrance they took up positions at the door, off to one side. Gamble was crouched and Mouse stood tight behind her, holding his weapon up and ready with one hand, with the other hand her shoulder. Mouse squeezed Gamble’s shoulder and at that signal, she tried the door with painstaking care. Sure enough after a few seconds, Gamble was able to ease the door open just enough to get a glimpse inside. A few moments later she pulled the door silently shut. She and Mouse returned to the bottom of the stairs.
“Door’s good,” Gamble said. “Front hall’s clear.”
“You just want to go in that way?” Cass asked.
“Tempting,” Gamble answered. “But I think we better take the side passages.”
Going through the front would give them the most direct route but they would have to pass through several large open areas with many entryways. There were side entrances they could use that would follow narrower passages, with fewer angles to cover.
“If we have to come out in a hurry, though, it’s good to know the front’s an option,” she added. “Mouse, you’re on the door.”
“Check,” Mouse responded. “Stay in touch.”
“Yep.”
“You be careful in there,” Mouse said, and he said it almost casually, but he was only looking at Cass when he did.
Cass nodded. “See you soon.”
Gamble led Cass around to the side of the building, right to the entrance Cass would have chosen if it’d been up to her. There was a stairwell that led down to a door, but before they took it, Gamble stopped and turned to Cass.
“I wish I had time to train you on this before we had to do it live,” she said. “But two main rules.” She held up one finger. “Constant communication.” She held up a second finger. “When in doubt, slow down.” Gamble ran her through a few basic hand signals: go, stop, look, I see, I hear, that direction, danger. It didn’t take long.
“Also,” Gamble said. “Doors. You’re going to be doing the opening, so let me show you the routine.”
Gamble got very hands-on, moving Cass where she wanted her to stand, positioning her, even putting her hand on top of Cass’s when working the door handle to show her just how carefully to open it. Once she got Cass situated, she put her hand on Cass’s shoulder.
“You hold just like that until I signal,” said Gamble. “And that’s like this.” A moment later she squeezed Cass’s shoulder, slowly and very deliberately.
“Got it,” Cass said. Gamble quickly covered other scenarios: doors opening inward, doors opening outward, double doors. But the basics didn’t change. Cass understood everything Gamble told her. Even so, Cass had an entirely new appreciation for Gamble and her team. She’d had no idea how complicated it could be to get a couple of people through a door safely.
“Stairs,” Gamble said. She paused a moment, and then shook her head. “Never mind. I’ll take point on stairs. Going up or coming down, just keep a hand on me so I know where you are.”
“OK,” Cass said. After the tutorial on doors, it struck Cass that apparently going up or down stairs was too complicated to cover in a short amount of time.
“One more thing,” Gamble said. “If the boys start talking to us in there, you can click the channel to acknowledge. If they ask a question, one click for yes, two for no.”
“Click the channel?”
“Just open and close the broadcast, without saying anything,” Gamble explained. “Like this.” And then, over comms, she said, “Boys, I’m going to click the channel, all right?”
“All right, check,” Sky answered.
Gamble didn’t say anything, but a moment later three clicks sounded on the comm channel.
“Got it?” Gamble asked.
Cass opened and closed the channel; one click for yes. Gamble chuckled once and then nodded.
“Then you’re on the door,” she said. Cass took her position, just as Gamble had showed her. Or, at least she thought she had, until Gamble gave her elbow a couple of strong pats to remind her to keep it tucked to her side. Cass made the adjustment and felt Gamble’s hand drop on her shoulder.
“All right, boys,” Gamble said, “we’re going in.”
NINE
“Haiku!”
The voice was thin and sharp above the noise on the street, but Haiku knew it instantly and smiled to himself. He turned back to find Wren hurrying towards him with jCharles in tow. They caught up quickly, and when Wren reached him, Haiku dipped his head in greeting and waited to hear what the boy had to say.
“I changed my mind,” Wren said. “I’d like to come with you. I mean, if that’s still OK.”
Haiku nodded once and quickly took stock of the boy in front of him. Wren had his pack on, cinched and fitted well on his shoulders; the pack itself was quite compact.
“We’ll be walking for a few days,” Haiku said. “Are you sure you have everything you’ll need?”
Wren nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“He’s got a good supply of food
and water,” jCharles added.
“Nights are going to be cold,” Haiku said.
Wren nodded again, and Haiku was struck by the change that had come over the boy; he stood taller, his shoulders back, chest out, radiating a sense of confidence. The story Wren had told suggested he was no stranger to travel and hardship, but seeing him now gave Haiku a new perspective. It was one thing to hear the tale, another entirely to see for himself. If Wren was truly prepared for the journey ahead, he’d done a good job of packing only what he’d need. There was a small bulge on one side of the pack, but otherwise it seemed to fit well; not overloaded, not top heavy. It was a small test, and Wren had passed without even having been aware of the testing. Many such tests lay ahead for the boy, but this first, small as it was, lifted Haiku’s spirits and gave him hope for the other, larger ones still to come.
“You can take it from here?” jCharles asked.
“Yes, thank you,” Haiku said.
“All right... well...” jCharles said. He stood there for a moment, hands at his side. Wren turned back and hugged him around the waist.
“Thanks, jCharles. For taking care of me and everything.”
jCharles laid his hands on Wren’s back in an awkward embrace, patted the boy’s shoulder.
“Sure thing, buddy,” he said. “If your mama shows, I’ll be sure to get word to you.”
“OK.”
The two separated, and jCharles looked down at Wren.
“Well. OK,” he said. And then he looked up at Haiku, and Haiku could see the emotion there, the tears not yet formed, the uncertainty of what he was feeling or how to express it.
“We should get moving,” Haiku said, more to provide jCharles with a way out than because it was true. “Don’t worry, jCharles. I’ll treat him like he’s my own.”
“Treat him like he’s my own,” the man said. And then with a final nod and a wave to Wren, he said “See ya, buddy,” and quickly turned and headed back down the street. He didn’t look back.
“All set?” Haiku asked. Wren nodded. “Then let’s go.”