“Has this always been here?” Dave asked.
“Yes,” Serif said, “as long as I have been alive, anyhow. Some say that it grows and someday the city will become inaccessible.”
“It’s all the way around?”
“Almost. The city is lifted, but the ground is higher on the far end. Each year it grows a little, and the more adventurous scavengers will add ladders and ropes to the scaffolding.”
“It grows? How much does it grow a year?” Dave asked.
Serif shrugged and put his hands about a foot apart.
Dave estimated the height at over 150 feet.
Serif guided them across the graveyard, dodging around the multitude of gravity wells and their car-sized craters.
“Nothing grows here,” Dave said, looking at the purple-tinted soil. “So where does the fungus grow?”
“In the city. The zealots have caches where they hide the pulverized bones. The fungus cannot grow in the light.”
“What is that?” the girl said as she stopped to point at where they had come from.
Movement in the distance flickered between the gravestones.
“It’s them,” a man yelled.
“Run!” Serif said, pushing them onward.
Dave stood for a moment, watching the horde advancing. There were hundreds of them. A wave of zealots and newly converted moved toward them over the broken ground.
Dave’s feet seemed glued for a moment until the young girl grabbed his arm, snapping him out of it. She pulled hard, almost yanking him off his feet. “Hurry!” she yelled.
Turning, he followed the group, driving one foot in front of the other just to keep up. The graves whipped by, and he had to jump over the empty holes and climb the piles of rubble, and debris. Dave traced the route set out by those in front of him around the multitude of craters.
With each passing moment, the makeshift tombstones and graves soon become sporadic, giving way to flat, open ground.
The crystalline wall ahead of him loomed taller and taller as they covered the shrinking ground. Dave could see a vertical fissure into which sets of ladders and platforms had been built using the materials at hand. Some of the team were already at the base of it, swinging their weapons against the zealots who had beaten them to it.
Dave could see Serif draw his weapon and swing hard, decapitating a red-wrapped zealot. With a path through the danger cleared, he urged the others to climb quickly. The black-clad survivors scrambled upward, and moving quickly they ascended the ladders and stairs, disappearing up the maze of wood and metal scaffolding.
Dave ran up the lower steps past Serif, who turned and followed close behind. At the first platform, Dave paused only for a moment to look.
He could see the horde closing. Some were running blindly into gravity wells across the field. They were crushed flat, only to have the multitude flow around.
Dave looked up at the next ladder. It was fifty feet high. Grabbing hold of its makeshift rungs, he looked around to determine if it was the only way up.
The structure shook as the first zealot slammed up the stairs below them. Both Serif and Dave looked down through the planked floor to see more bodies pouring in. The wooden frame vibrated with each hunting footfall.
“Hurry!” Dave yelled at Serif, who was waiting for him.
Genie pushed past Dave and scrambled up the rungs.
“You need to go! I will slow them down.” Serif drew his weapon with his good hand.
“No, you won’t. Trust me, move. I will explain later. I can stop them, but only when we are at the top!” Dave urged him up the ladder before bending down and opening his bag. The roll of detonation cord sat at the bottom.
Serif gave him a perplexed look but opted to climb either way.
Pulling out the small roll, he grabbed an igniter and began to climb behind Serif.
Serif looked at the cord with skepticism and watched Dave tie it to the bottom of the ladder. The spool unrolled awkwardly in his arms. Balancing it against his body and his arm, Dave began to ascend. Each upward movement unspooled length of the cord.
The ladder began to shake as three men below him latched on and threw themselves upward in pursuit.
Above Dave, Serif disappeared over the edge. Dave felt a pang of loneliness. Serif’s head appeared with the others. They looked at him, seeing how close the zealots were getting.
Dave tossed the roll over the top edge and clambered onto the ground just as the man below him reached up for his leg, barely missing with a clutching grasp.
Serif’s blade was now unsheathed, skewering the man vertically. The zealot sneered before sliding off both the ladder and the blade. As the body tumbled, it collided with another climbing figure on ladder, peeling others off in the long fall to the next platform.
Dave pulled the cord from the spool, holding it out to Serif. “Cut!”
The blade flashed again between Dave’s hands before returning to guarding the top of the ladder. More of the zealots were piling onto the ladder, and the noise of guttural growls and anger were growing from below.
“Whatever you are going to do, you must be quicker!” Serif said.
“Are they on the ladder?” Dave asked.
“Yes!”
“Good.” Dave snapped the chemical igniter onto the det cord and pulled the pin. A familiar puff of smoke began to pour from the device.
“Move!” Dave said, pulling himself to his feet. Serif stood at the edge, waiting for the enemy to approach. Dave grabbed him and pulled him away as he counted ten seconds in his head.
As the first of the red-robed men began to climb over the top of the ladder, the length of det cord hanging along its length exploded. Splinters of metal and wood showered the small fissure below with shrapnel as the platform evaporated in a concussive blast. A fine red mist sprayed outward, covering the nearby ground.
Below the edge, whole men who had started the climb fell away in pieces, thundering to the ground like apples poured from a basket.
“What was that?” Serif asked, wide-eyed. Genie stood next to him, her face a mask of awe and wonder.
“Detonation cord,” Dave said, raising the almost depleted spool. He noted to himself that only one chemical igniter remained.
Both men peered over the sharp edge of the chasm. Down below, the zealots gathered. Dave shuffled tentatively to the edge and watched as the mass of bodies flowed to one side of the chasm and along the wall, out of sight.
“Can they get up anywhere else?” he asked, looking at Serif with concern.
Serif shook his head. “The only other way up is a day’s walk away, but they don’t appear to be walking. I hope we will be able to find what we need by then.”
Dave turned to look inward at the raised city. A number of city blocks rolled and undulated, buildings leaning crookedly against each other. The asphalt and concrete on the ground were cracked and warped with the pressure from the crystalline structure underneath.
“So where now?” Dave asked the girl, smiling.
She smiled back at him. “This way.”
Chapter 23
Serif turned to the small girl. “Which way to the core?”
She pointed a finger down the listing pavement. “It’s down there. Maybe five or six blocks.”
“You will lead us, but keep slow and careful now that we have time,” Serif stated.
“Don’t worry, I’d rather not get taken.”
“Taken?” Dave asked. He stopped walking and looked at her. The others carried on for a moment and turned to look at him.
“There are things in the dark up here. If you step into the darkness you might not come back. Many who have visited have never returned.”
Dave fussed with the spool of det cord, pulling the remaining length off the roll and stuffing it into his pocket, discarding the cardboard tube. “Great, avoid the gravity wells, try not to get killed by zealots, and now stay out of the dark or monsters will get you.”
The girl shrugged and turn
ed away. Dave followed tentatively as she picked her way through the rubble, stepping over piles of concrete and rebar as naturally as she had for most of her life. The quick little legs tapped across cracks and into the open spaces beyond.
Dave and Serif followed slowly with the rest of the men and women in tow. Everyone’s blades were drawn, and it took some time before people began to sheath them.
Serif called out a few minutes later for the girl to slow down as they picked their way through the sterile concrete piles. The tall man’s steps were plodding and consistent but not as quick as they once were. Dave stepped next to him and handed him his water. “Drink.”
Serif shook his head, pushing the water away.
“You’re going to do us no good if you are dead.” Dave pressed the container to the man’s chest. Genie nodded and wagged a finger at him. Her hands switched to miming that he should drink.
Reluctantly, Serif uncapped the water skin and gulped back. Taking a breath, he looked sheepishly at Dave. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
They walked silently for an hour, and Dave could hear a distant rumbling that subtly shook the ground. “What was that?”
“The buildings,” Serif stated. “They are old. Crumbling. It’s dangerous to be near some of them.”
“They collapse?” Dave looked up and took a few steps off the sidewalk they were travelling on and away into the broken asphalt of the street.
“Yes. Not frequently, but they do collapse from time to time. Usually, the ones that are damaged.”
Dave’s gut turned as he tried to gauge how far he would need to be away in case any of the office buildings towering over him collapsed. He realized that if their foundations were to spontaneously give way, he would likely not have time to run.
“It’s just up here!” the girl yelled out from far ahead. Dave visibly flinched.
Ahead of them the girl stood on a pile of rubble and was pointing to a building, “It’s on the far side!” Her small arm pointed to a nearby highrise with a sense of pride.
Dave smiled, impressed that such a young girl had travelled this far on her own.
Her head turned toward some unseen noise to their left from across the street. Tentatively, she stepped back toward Dave and Serif, but her eyes remained locked on something unseen.
A flicker of movement appeared from the left, and a black wooden shaft appeared in the side of her chest with an echoing thud. She staggered for a moment but remained standing. Looking down at it, she coughed, and blood spattered down her chin. A tiny hand reached up, touching the protrusion, and she looked at Serif, confused.
Dave stepped forward, and another was impaled her near her heart. His arms grabbed her as she fell forward. The wooden shaft snapped off between them as Dave hefted her off her feet and bolted to the safety of the buildings to the right.
Another wooden shaft clattered off the ground behind him. The others were following his lead and sprinting for cover. The footfalls became quieter and quieter as arrows picked people off. Someone to the rear of him grunted and thudded to the ground.
Dave shielded the girl, driving his legs forward, willing them not to trip over the broken rubble.
Throwing himself through the entry way door, he turned and pressed himself against the cover. With his back to the wall, he looked down at the girl. Her limp body betrayed the fact that she no longer breathed. Distant eyes looked sadly past him. Dave stared at her.
“Why?” he said quietly.
An arrow punched a hole in the window near the group as the rest clustered inside.
Serif chanced a quick look out the window before pulling back. A bladed shaft clattered against the back wall of the room. “It’s Archer.”
“Why?” Dave said, looking at the girl’s body.
“They must have dusted him. It doesn’t take long before the queen takes hold. She has him now. He is no longer one of us.”
Dave just stood there holding the girl’s body. All he could think of was his little sister. The gentle sweetness had been taken away by cruelty and violence.
Another arrow found its home as Genie shifted to find better cover. Everyone was dying.
“She’s dead, Dave,” Serif stated sympathetically, taking the girl from his arms and sitting her lifeless form against the wall. Dave looked at his blood-soaked hands.
“Come out!” a voice yelled from across the street. “If you come out now, you will be counted among the enlightened! We will save you!”
Dave’s fists tightened. “You killed a little girl!”
“She was too young to see the truth!” the voice yelled back.
Dave’s arms shook with rage.
Serif poked his out and retreated, followed by another clatter. The tall man turned to his two remaining people. “He is on the second floor in the corner window.”
Another arrow whizzed by, and Genie flinched. She knew the archer was deadly accurate.
“She just wanted to help.” Tears began to well up in Dave’s eyes, and he gritted his teeth, forcing it down with anger. Fingers balled into fists as his body tensed.
“If we use the building, we might be able to get away through the back,” Serif suggested.
Dave turned and bolted out the door, into the street. Serif reached for him and retreated as an arrow glanced against the frame, narrowly missing his head.
Blind anger drove his body over the stone and pillars. Dave ran straight for the open emergency exit door of the building. A subtle shift of movement caught his eye, and for a moment he saw the archer poking his head out the window, bow in hand. The tip of the arrow traced the path Dave was making as he neared the doorway.
Fire and pain burned down the back of his left shoulder as his body hit the partially open door of the emergency exit. The ancient barrier collapsed inward on its rusted hinges.
Dave staggered from the impact and stood catching his breath for a moment. A shuffling movement of feet upstairs caught his attention. Gritting his teeth, he growled, throwing himself up the concrete steps. Each footfall resonated in the stairwell.
As he turned the corner of the first landing, the fire door above him began to open. An arrow and bow poked out. A few more steps upward and he watched the dusted archer take aim.
The sick, inevitable understanding twisted Dave’s stomach as he realized he was nowhere near quick enough to avoid the man’s aim. Nevertheless, he continued forward, lunging, knowing that if he were able to take out the archer, at least the others would survive.
Time seemed to slow, and Dave could feel a thickness in the air around him. The archer’s movements became glacial.
A bright, flame-like quality filled the space around him. Sparks and orange light licked at his body. His skin burned as he watched the arrow let loose. It travelled toward him in slow motion, pushing through the air. His body fought to turn and spin, but he felt trapped in the air that surrounded him. Dave wondered if he had set off a well-placed trap, intended to set him on fire.
The arrow crept slowly toward him. When it was inches from his chest, the world seemed to explode, driving the air from his lungs. His skin felt like he was being burned alive.
Dave tried to scream as his vision bleached out in a bright flash. His hands reached forward, and his fingers felt the black garb of the archer. Somehow they had crossed an impossible distance. Unrestrained but blinded, his free arm swung out of instinct, mashing muscle into bruised flesh. He drove his fist forward, feeling the clack of teeth. The bow slammed against Dave’s head, tearing open his own scalp.
Using his greater body weight, Dave blindly picked the Archer up off of his feet. “She was just a little girl!”
Dave slammed the man to the concrete floor, feeling the air come out of the archer’s lungs. Weakened blows landed against Dave’s.
Still blind, Dave pressed down on the archer, straddling him. Dave’s arm worked autonomously to his body as he swung hard, finding his mark.
Each strike landed hard as the kill
er under him squirmed. Glancing blows came back at him. Dave’s arm became sore, and his fist ached, but he pounded on, feeling the body under him shake with each impact.
“…just… a little girl…” Dave sobbed, pumping his tired arm. He felt his knuckles split open against broken cheekbones.
The archer’s body shifted as he tried to buck Dave off. Leaning forward, Dave’s hands pressed on the ground, feeling broken concrete and stones.
His fingers wrapped around the sharp edges of a heavy flake of concrete. Raising it, he felt for the man’s head with his other hand. The Archer’s teeth bit into his palm as Dave took hold of his face.
In one swift motion, the jagged weight came down with a sickening crunch.
The body under him exhaled. No returning salvo came.
Dave sat on top of the man, blinded. He sobbed in exhaustion.
“He’s dead, Dave.” Serif’s hands grabbed his shoulders. “It’s done… It’s okay… We’re safe.” Multiple hands reached in, lifting him off.
Still blind, Dave batted angrily the helping hands away. Tripping, he fell to his knees on the hard surface. His body heaved with sobs as the tension released.
“Dave…”
“Go away…”
“Dave… there’s an arrow sticking out of your back.”
Chapter 24
Dave’s vision began to return around the time that Serif began cutting away the back of his shirt. He was still lost in his anger and nursed his bloody knuckles. Trying to calm himself, he focused on slowing his breathing down.
A black wooden shaft stuck straight up near his shoulder blade like a wooden antenna, the feathers dancing in the air with each subtle movement. Serif’s hands wrapped carefully around it to stabilize it while the other hand felt for the arrowhead farther down his back.
“I’ve had problems with my temper…” Dave said apologetically.
Serif unceremoniously pulled the arrow from under the skin of Dave’s shoulder, ignoring the statement and tossing the metal-tipped shaft to the side. It clattered on the floor. Dave barely flinched at the pain.
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