Dawnbreaker

by Posey, Jay

  After that discussion, Mouse still didn’t seem content, but he gave up trying to diagnose her for the moment. Cass shifted her attention back to the team across the courtyard. It was strange, of course, seeing them all there together again. Almost as if time had been rewound, or shifted to some alternate history. Even having been so sure that she’d Awakened Swoop, it seemed impossible to accept that he was really there, that she’d really done it. The certainty and the reality somehow failed to connect. The change was almost too significant, too sudden to embrace. Just the night before, Cass, along with everyone else, had believed waking the Weir was something only Wren was capable of. No. Not everyone else.

  “How did you know, Mouse?” Cass said.

  He followed her gaze over to Swoop. Shook his head. “Oh, I didn’t know.”

  “But last night. I wouldn’t have even tried if you hadn’t asked. Never would have even thought to try it. What made you think it was even remotely possible?”

  Mouse sat down beside her, shoulder to shoulder, and joined her watching the others across the courtyard. He took a moment to gather his thoughts.

  “You know, it’s funny, Cass... how much what we believe about ourselves affects what we perceive about ourselves.”

  “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “I know,” he said, and he smiled at her with kindness. “Your boys. They’re both pretty gifted, huh?”

  It was strange to Cass to hear Asher spoken of that way. Wren, certainly. But Asher... what he’d chosen to become was truly terrible. It was hard to think of his power as any sort of gift. But she couldn’t deny the talent he had.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Both your sons,” he said. He paused. Then added. “Brothers.”

  Cass nodded, but corrected him. “Half-brothers.”

  Mouse nodded, a trace of his smile still lingering. Like he knew something...

  And then like the sun burning away a cloud, she understood what he was suggesting. Half-brothers. Her sons. Whatever natural talent her boys shared must have come through their common parent. Her.

  She blinked at Mouse, at what he was saying, at what it implied. He read her look, the dawning that overtook her, smiled again with a little shrug.

  “You think...” she started, struggling to wrap her mind around a concept at once so foreign and so personal. “You think I’m like them?”

  “It’s something I suspected for a while now,” he said. “Nice to be proven right every now and again.”

  Cass felt a blossoming in her soul at the revelation, even as she rejected it. It couldn’t possibly be true. She’d never been done any heavy hacking with RushRuin; physical security was more of her thing. The real world, not the other one. But as she resisted this radical shift in perspective, she began to recall little moments in her past that had previously been unconnected in her mind. Her old boyfriend Zenith’s early fascination with her; how she’d always been the one to fill in on small jobs for RushRuin, even over Jez and Ran; how quickly she learned Wren’s tricks for masking her signal when they fled RushRuin; how long she’d managed to evade Asher’s determined search. She hadn’t ever really trained for it, but now that she reflected back it seemed undeniable to her that she’d always had a sensitivity to the digital realm. She’d just always assumed because her son’s fathers were gifted, they’d been responsible for the boys’ talents. But no, Zenith hadn’t really been a man of the same quality. Underdown, Wren’s father, had been elegant. But Asher’s father, Zenith, had been more of a brute-force kind of guy. A thug. Even as a young boy, Asher had easily outclassed his father.

  Was it really possible? Did she possess that talent? Looking across the courtyard at the man she’d just brought back from enslavement to the Weir, it seemed more than just possible.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know, Mouse,” she said. “I don’t think I could’ve done it if I hadn’t been through it myself. Not if Wren hadn’t showed me the way.”

  “I don’t see why any of that matters,” Mouse said. “Fact is you did it.”

  “Once,” she said. “I did it once. It helped that I knew Swoop. That I could remember him. It helped me find him, somehow. I don’t think I could do it again.”

  Mouse shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

  She glanced over at him, and he looked back at her, smiling. Then his eyes went sad and some deep hurt revealed itself, and he looked away quickly.

  “Anyway. Thing is, you did it. When it mattered. When we needed it. So maybe don’t sweat the how or why so much, and just celebrate it. For now.” He gave her side glance and leaned his shoulder into hers, pushing her gently off-balance. “You sure you’re all right?”

  Cass nodded. “Just a lot to deal with, I think. Haven’t had much sleep lately.”

  “Yeah. Well you can rest up today. Judging from what Able and I saw when we scouted it out this morning, I think we’ll be pretty safe here for a couple of days at least. As long as we stay smart.”

  The casual way he mentioned it, his assumption that she was staying with them, sent a pang of emotion through Cass’s heart. Guilt? Sadness?

  “Mouse,” she said. “I think something happened when I brought Swoop back. I think Asher knows. He knows I’m alive. And maybe he knows where I am. I can’t stay, not even if everyone wanted me to.”

  He was looking at her again now, unfiltered concern in his eyes. He shook his head.

  “No, you’ll stay with us, Cass. We already talked about this. We’re not just letting you go off somewhere to try to make it on your own.”

  “That was when we still had Gamble. Look at your team, Mouse. It’s broken right now, and I’m the one that broke it.”

  “That’s not true, Cass–”

  “You’ve all sacrificed so much for me, for my son. I’m not going to bring any more danger down on you.”

  “I’m not having this same conversation with you again–”

  “It’s not a conversation, Mouse!” Cass said, a little more sharply than she meant. She tried to soften her next words. “This isn’t theoretical anymore. Asher knows. It’s best for everyone if I leave.”

  “For everyone?”

  “In your heart, you know it.”

  Mouse looked away again. “I don’t think you know my heart as well as you think you do.”

  “I know you don’t like it. I don’t like it. And believe me, if there were another way, I’d take it.”

  “There is. Stay. We’ll face it together.”

  Cass shook her head. “There’s no doubt you’ll be safer without me,” she said. And though she knew it would hurt him to hear her next words, she felt like they had to be spoken, for his own good. “And I’ll probably be safer without you.”

  Mouse just sat there next to her for a few seconds in silence, staring at his feet, jaw working.

  “If this is on account of what I said last night–”

  “No, Mouse,” she said over the top of him but he continued.

  “No, look. I said some things I shouldn’t have. Some things I didn’t mean...”

  “It’s not about that,” she said. “I wish it were. I wish this was a thing that could be fixed with words. But it’s not.”

  His brow furrowed. And then, unexpectedly, he got to his feet. “You know, I thought we’d lost you one time. Thought I’d seen the last of you, when you took your boy on to that tunnel.”

  Cass looked up at him towering above her. He turned away from her. Stood in silence for a span. Then.

  “I don’t know if I can say goodbye to you again,” he said, and he walked off towards the others.

  For a time, Cass continued to sit there on her own, watching the rest of the team. Even Sky had shown up, his happiness at Swoop’s return tempered by his own raw grief. But he was taking part. They were all circled up around Swoop. He stood in front of them all, arms crossed, head slightly lowered, a look of vague dissatisfaction on his face. In other words, looking every bit himself. The tone of the cha
tter had settled and taken a heavier turn. The others filling him in on all he’d missed, most likely.

  While she sat alone, thinking about her next steps, Cass felt a tickle in her ear, as if a tiny bug had flown into it and was struggling weakly. It took a moment for her to realize it was a sound, not a feeling. A faint hiss and crackle. And judging from the reaction from the rest of the team, she wasn’t the only one hearing it. She got up and walked over towards the others. As she made her way over, she heard it again.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  Wick shook his head and looked to his brother. “Some kind of interference, maybe?”

  Cass’s heart dropped. Had Asher found them already? Was he hacking into their secure communications?

  “No,” Finn answered. “It’s internal. Noise in the channel. It’s weird though, I haven’t had trouble with it before.”

  The sound rippled again, a white noise whisper. Cass had never heard it before, but it was strangely unsettling; too much like a sound a Weir might make.

  “I don’t know,” Finn said. “It’s almost like...” His eyes narrowed. Searching for an answer. Any answer. And then his eyes went wide, and his head snapped up. “No way. No way!” He turned away from them all, took three or five quick steps.

  “What?” Wick said. “What, Finn?” Finn didn’t respond, he was either too stunned or too terrified. “Finn!”

  And then Cass realized Finn was neither stunned nor frightened; he was busy doing something to the channel. The white noise crackled, momentarily louder, then squelched. He was trying to clean up the signal, maybe, or boosting it.

  Finn whirled, a bewildering expression on his face; equal parts shock, disbelief, and... joy?

  “It’s Gamble!”

  No one knew what he was saying.

  “Gamble! It’s Gamble!” he repeated.

  “Finn,” Mouse said, steady. “What do you mean it’s Gamble?”

  Finn was smiling, but his eyes were so wild he actually looked more insane than happy.

  “I mean it’s Gamble! She’s alive! She’s alive and coming this way!”

  “She’s... she’s alive?” Sky asked, and Cass could hear the fear in his voice, knew exactly what he was asking. Was it really Gamble, really alive? Or was it just what remained of his wife, animated by another force?

  Finn crossed to Sky, grabbed him by the shoulders.

  “Brother, I don’t know how,” Finn said, eyes shining. “I don’t care how. Your girl is back.”

  Sky’s legs started to buckle, but he grabbed on to Finn. Finn laughed aloud, wrapped his arms around Sky in a bear hug, lifted him off the ground. The crackle sounded again, but this time buried down deep in the static, Cass thought she could hear the shadow of a voice. Maybe she’d just imagined it, because of what Finn had said, and because she so badly wanted to believe.

  Finn set Sky back on his feet again, and then held up a hand, gesturing for them all to wait a second. Something happened to the channel again; another series of jagged pops of static and audio artifacts.

  And then.

  “... copy, over...” Two words amidst the jumble. Two words. Gamble’s voice. Cass found herself in Mouse’s arms without knowing how she got there. Laughing, crying, cheering. Everyone was hugging everyone else. And then amidst the cacophony, Finn’s voice rose up calling for quiet. When he got it, he looked at Sky, pointed and nodded.

  Sky blinked. And then, over the channel. “Ace?”

  There was no immediate response. Cass held her breath.

  “Ace, do you read?” Sky said again.

  Still no answer. Then a crackle.

  “Hey, babe,” said Gamble. “You still at the same place?” The channel still had static in it, but her words were breaking through more clearly now. Either Finn had boosted the range, or she was getting closer. Maybe both.

  Sky sank to the ground, on to his knees, his face a collage of emotion: shock, relief, elation, confusion. His mouth worked, but he didn’t respond.

  “Yeah, G,” Finn said, jumping in. “We’re all here. We’re all right here. What happened? Where are you?”

  “Not a hundred percent sure. In range, I guess.”

  “Yeah,” Finn said. “Well, you’re just outside normal... I had to boost you pretty good. So that’s probably... I don’t know maybe four or five klicks out?”

  “You tell me, Finn. I’m just walking here.”

  “What’s your status?” Mouse asked.

  “Tired. Sore. Smell terrible.”

  “Hang tight, we’ll come get you,” Mouse said.

  “Negative, stay put,” Gamble said. Her voice had lost some of its snap, but there was no doubt it was her. “Not like you’re gonna carry me in, and I’m already walking as fast as I can. Just give me a waypoint so I can quit wandering around.”

  “Let us meet you halfway at least,” Mouse said.

  “No, Mouse, just stay there. No need to risk everybody looking for everybody else out here. Wick, you online?”

  “Yeah, I’m here,” Wick said.

  “You feel like pinging me a route?”

  “No, G, I don’t,” Wick answered. “I feel like running out there and carrying you home on my shoulders. But I’ll send you a route anyway. Gimme a couple.”

  “Check,” Gamble replied. “You got my position?”

  “I do now.”

  “I’m coming out to meet you, Ace,” Sky said. He was back on his feet; he still looked a little bewildered, but his joy was radiant. “I’m on my way to you, babe.”

  “Check,” Gamble said. “I’m all right with that.”

  “Wick,” Sky said, but Wick was already on it.

  “Yeah, buddy, go,” he said. “I’ll set you a rendezvous on the way.”

  “I’m gone,” Sky said, and then through the channel, “Sky, moving to you.”

  Sky started off at a jog, but Mouse called to him.

  “Sky, hold up!” Mouse said, as he ran over to the wayhouse and disappeared down the hatch.

  “What, man?” Sky answered. He stood actually bouncing up and down while he waited for a response. “Come on, I gotta go get my girl!”

  A few moments later Mouse reappeared with Sky’s rifle in hand. He jogged over.

  “Now go get her,” Mouse said, tossing the rifle across to Sky.

  Sky caught it and took off.

  After Sky left, the small band was positively giddy. Cass couldn’t remember ever having seen them so chatty. No one seemed to know quite what to do with themselves. Except for Cass. She quietly slipped away to the wayhouse to gather her belongings and her share of the supplies. When the time came, she would say her goodbyes on her way out. If she was already loaded up, there was less opportunity for the others to try to stop her. She flexed her left hand, made a fist, tested it. Mouse’s brace was still fastened securely around her forearm, but already the pain from the break was gone. She knew Mouse wouldn’t be happy about her testing things without his supervision, but she unstrapped the brace anyway and tried rotating her wrist. It felt smooth, no hitches, no pain. Good enough for her.

  “You look like you’re headin’ somewhere,” came a voice behind her. She started at the sound, and glanced over her shoulder at its source. Swoop. Of course. Cass chuckled.

  “Still not sure how you manage to do that all the time,” she said, turning back to make her final preparations.

  “Do what?”

  “Show up places you’re not supposed to be.”

  “Oh, I tend to think I’m where I’m supposed to be, Cass. Just maybe not where other people expect, is all.”

  Cass closed up her pack, tested its weight. Not bad. She turned back to face Swoop. Apart from the moonlight glow of his pupils, he looked exactly the same. Same posture, same mannerisms, same expression.

  “Don’t reckon anyone’s gonna be happy about you tryin’ to walk off on your own,” he said.

  “I have to leave, Swoop,” Cass said. She’d been hoping to talk to everyone at the same ti
me; she really didn’t want to have to explain herself over and over again.

  “I know,” he said, taking her by surprise. “I saw it.”

  “Saw... what?” she asked cautiously.

  “It,” he said. “Him. Asher. Whatever that was, comin’ up out of the deep.”

  “So you understand, then?”

  “Yes,” he said after a moment. “And no. I understand why you think you gotta leave.”

  “Please, Swoop. I can’t keep having this conversation–”

  He held up his hand, shook his head. Then said, “Let me come with you.”

  Cass hadn’t expected that. But then, this was Swoop. She should have known he’d find some way to surprise her.

  “Be easier to convince the others if you ain’t out there on your own,” he continued, making his case. “Like we say; two is one, one is none. And I don’t pose the same risk they do. I’m more like you than I am like them now.”

  And though she’d resigned herself to going out on her own, Cass felt relief roll over her at the offer. She hadn’t considered it at all, but Swoop was right. He was Awakened now. Less likely to draw the attention of the Weir out there in the open. His risks were the same as hers, and no greater. He’d be an extra set of ears, and of eyes. And his skill set was immense; for as long as she’d known him, she felt like she still didn’t know all he was capable of. She wouldn’t have to face the dreadful, oppressive loneliness of the dead expanse.

  And undoubtedly he would benefit from her company as well, as he came to terms with the changes that had been forced upon him. It only made sense for him to accompany her, to guide her, to guard her. It was the obvious choice, the most logical.

  She nodded.

  “Thank you, Swoop,” she said. “But no.”

  Most logical, maybe, but not the best choice. Without fully understanding her own reasoning, she knew somewhere in her heart that this was her time. With all else stripped away, there was an opportunity before her she’d never before known.