by Casey White
“Just focus on the tracker,” Daniel said. “Don’t worry about the rest of them. Get the tracker, and get away. They might have mages. They’ll almost certainly have more guns. And-”
“Good,” James said. He was starting to grin, Daniel realized, glancing back toward him. “Gives us something to steal off ‘em. We’ll be fine.”
“J-James,” Maya hissed. “Don’t-”
“And what about you?”
Again, Daniel paused—and met Leon’s unhappy stare. “What do you mean?”
“What I said,” Leon said, and folded his arms. “You’re using yourself as bait. What happens when they do wind up focusing on you?”
“That’s what this is for,” Daniel said, patting the driver’s seat of the car he was even then burglarizing. “By the time they realize something is wrong, you guys will have moved in. And when you do, I’ll hop down that ladder, into this, and take off. Maybe I…” He hesitated. “Maybe I can clear a path for you guys, as I’m leaving. And then, we’ll regroup after. Down the road, somewhere.”
Maya and James nodded slowly, although Maya’s normally-tawny skin looked ghost-pale.
“I still don’t like this,” Leon mumbled.
The knot in Daniel’s gut twisted tighter. “I know,” he said, turning to him. “But I can do this.”
“You could do this just as well by staying with us,” Leon said.
Before he’d so much as finished, though, Daniel was shaking his head. “No. No, if I did that, we’d have no trap. They’d see all of us, and it’d just be another all-out war.”
“Then-”
“I have no weapon,” Daniel said, smiling weakly. “Even if I had one, I...I can’t hurt anyone with it. Some lessons run too deep. I can’t hardly run. And I’ve got no magic.”
“You had magic back there,” James said. His nostrils flared. “If you did that again, we could-”
“I’m sorry,” Daniel whispered. He held a hand up, leaning heavily on the worn 90’s upholstery. His fingers tensed—and in his mind’s eye, he could see the flames sprouting to life from his palm.
But nothing happened. The night remained cold and bleak and dark. Whatever energy he’d felt before, it was gone.
“I don’t know why,” Daniel said. “I...I can’t. It doesn’t seem to work like that.” He grinned wryly. “I don’t know how it works at all.”
To his surprise, he heard James snort. “Guess we’re in that much together.”
“Still,” Leon muttered. “Still. There’s got to be some other way. I could stay with you. Help you-”
“Hey,” James protested, but Daniel was already shaking his head.
“No,” Daniel said. “You have magic. Maybe you and James can work together. Or something. I don’t know. But you’ll have better chances together.”
“Maya, then. She can-”
“If she’s with me, you’ve got no getaway driver.” Daniel kept shaking his head, his gut churning. “This is the best I can do, Leon. It’s got the best chances of you guys getting out of this.”
“Yeah, but- but I’m not going to just leave,” Leon protested. “And for you to be up there alone? What’s going to happen if-”
“I’ll stay with him.”
The scene went quiet. Daniel looked up.
Olivia stood alongside the car’s door, her lips set into a hard, determined line. She glared at Leon, not so much as glancing down to Daniel.
As Daniel watched, Leon’s lips curled down into a scowl. “What?” Leon said. “That’s no better. How can you-”
“I’ll be fine,” Olivia said. “There’s got to be something in there for us to hit people with. We’ll manage.” The corners of her lips twitched. “At least I can help get him to the car, after things go south.”
Daniel chuckled. After, not if. At least they weren’t lying to themselves about this.
Still, Leon scowled, drawing himself up higher. “This is stupid,” he said. “I don’t like this at all.”
“I know,” Daniel said. “Really. I do. But...we’ll be fine.”
Olivia chuckled softly. “I’ll keep him out of trouble. Think I can manage that much.”
“You’re the one who got us into trouble,” James growled.
Her cheeks went pink, and she deflated just a little. “E-Even still.”
Daniel stood, bracing off the door, and shut it. “It’s going to work,” he said, packing as much conviction as he could into the words. “Trust me.” He leaned against the front of the car, eyeing the ladder up.
He’d have to climb it. With his leg all shot up. A shiver of dread ran through him, but he squashed it.
It was just a little pain. He could manage that much.
“Go,” he said, instead of the thousand other things he wanted to. “You can’t be here when they show up. Get yourselves away—far enough that they won’t see you. But close enough you can get back here.”
Maya and James nodded, starting to duck back into the SUV, but Leon stayed where he was, staring. “Call us,” he said. “The instant you see them.”
“I will,” Daniel said.
“Don’t wait. We’ll be right here. Just get to the car.”
“I know.”
“And don’t wait for us to leave. Get in the car and drive.”
“Leon, I will. I’ll-”
Daniel hardly saw Leon move. In the blink of an eye, he’d closed the gap between the two of them, wrapping his arms around Daniel’s shoulders.
Ah. Daniel smiled, rocking back and forth under the sudden weight of the embrace, but slid his arms up around Leon. The two clung together, entwined.
“Get out in one piece,” he heard Leon say, his words choked.
“I will,” Daniel whispered. Leon was taller than him. It left Leon’s cheek pressed to his temple, his lips against Daniel’s ear.
“You have to promise.”
Daniel laughed, and squeezed Leon’s ribs more tightly. “I promise.”
“No, you don’t,” Leon whispered. His forehead dropped, pressing to Daniel’s shoulder. “Just...come back, after. Please.”
Daniel swallowed—but with a final tug, Leon broke away from the embrace. “Go on,” he said, his voice rough. “Get up there. We’ll...We’ll be close by.”
Daniel opened his mouth, ready to thank him, to promise again, but somehow, the words seemed insufficient. Leon knew. He knew. They didn’t need to put it into words.
And now, all they could do was their best.
He turned away instead, hobbling toward the ladder. Olivia’s hand slipped under his arm, pulling him up taller, and he offered her a tiny nod.
He didn’t look back as the SUV’s engine kicked to life, or as the wheels groaned against the pavement. If he looked back, he’d probably lose his nerve—and that, they couldn’t afford.
With the sound of it fading to nothing in his ears, he grabbed hold of the first rungs, hauling himself up.
And he started to climb.
Inwardly, he grumbled. He had to pick a hiding place up a ladder, didn’t he? Every step up the metal rungs was like fire burning up and down the length of his gunshot leg. By the time he’d climbed up a dozen steps, the idea of climbing back down and holing up in a cabinet somewhere inside the surely-abandoned garage was sounding far more appealing than before.
The ladder shook under the weight of someone below him. “Keep going,” Olivia hissed. “I’ll- I’ll catch you if you- Well, no, I can’t do that. Just don’t fall. You'll be fine.”
“Incredibly reassuring,” Daniel muttered, grabbing hold of another bar and hoisting himself higher. “So glad you’re here to help.”
“I aim to please.”
Daniel chuckled, but couldn’t quite make the noise sound genuine. He wasn’t too worried over it. Olivia’s voice was as light and sarcasm-filled as it’d been during the days they’d shared in Alexandria, but the humor was only skin deep.
That was fine, too. Both of them understood the stakes. If she wanted to pre
tend things were fine, well, he wouldn’t be the one to ruin it for her.
With a final groan, he grabbed the railing at the top of the stairs and pushed himself forward. He flopped hard, catching himself against the concrete before he could faceplant.
“Hey,” Olivia said from behind him. “Move.”
Daniel rolled, twisting far enough to clear a narrow path for her, and sighed. For a moment, he lay flat on his back, staring up at the sky.
It wasn’t quite dawn yet. Given another few hours, the sky would change colors, transforming into a scene entirely alien to everything he’d known. No matter how many times he left Alexandria’s walls, he still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the sight. He would’ve killed for one last look at the stars gleaming down from on high.
But it wasn’t to be. All he got was murky, muddy darkness, faintly illuminated by the glow of the city’s lights reflecting off the clouds.
Making a face, Daniel pushed himself to his knees, far enough that he could shuffle awkwardly along. Somewhere alongside him, Olivia snorted. He paused in his crawling long enough to flip a middle finger in her direction.
Already, though, he scanned the rooftop. There wasn’t much to see, just the usual assortment of air conditioning units and pipework—and another ladder set on the side opposite them. He smiled, fixing the sight of it in his mind.
Before the night was out, they’d probably need an escape route like it.
“Sweet,” Olivia muttered. Daniel turned, in time to see her hurry past. Across the roof, the half-wall had collapsed into a knee-height heap of bricks and shattered mortar. “Don’t mind if I do.”
“We’re not trying to break their skulls open,” Daniel said. Another step away from the ladder, and he decided he’d gone quite far enough. Grabbing hold of the thankfully-whole half-wall, he lowered himself to the ground. “We’re just-”
“Trying to make ourselves a distraction,” Olivia said. “Right.” With every word, she loaded bricks into her arms, grunting with exertion. “A-And, we’ll be an even better distraction if we had some bricks.”
“Fine,” Daniel said. “If you insist.”
“Oh, I do.” She straightened, her arms full, and toddled back toward him. “Just...Just wait for one of t-them to start climbing that ladder. I’ll make sure they don’t forget the mistake.”
And then their friends would surge in to close the ranks. Daniel kept the thought inside, where it couldn’t sting quite so much.
The clatter of bricks against concrete screamed out like a shriek through the night. Daniel flinched, shooting a scowl at Olivia, but she’d already settled to the ground beside him. “Don’t worry,” she said with a groan. “I’ve got your back. I know you’re probably missing blondie there, but you don’t have to worry one bit.”
Daniel leaned back, resting his head against the brick wall, and stared out into the night. Olivia’s leg pressed against his, a barrier of heat against the cold.
“Why?” he said at last.
She didn’t pull away, but he felt her sag. “Why what?”
“Why did you come with me?” His fingers dragged across the bandages wrapping his leg, trying in vain to work the knotted muscles loose. “You have to know this isn’t going to work.”
“Ah,” Olivia whispered. “That.”
She fell quiet. The low hum of the air handlers around them rose, filling the night air with softness.
And then she shifted, and he felt her head rest against his shoulder. “Well, why are you? If you know that much.”
“Because this has to end,” Daniel said. He didn’t bother pulling away. Even a few days before, the thought of her sitting here pressed against him would have been infuriating. Repulsive. Now...Now, he was too tired. Too far past such trivial angers. “They’re never going to stop. They’ll keep coming. So I can’t just...I can’t just run away.”
“Yeah.”
“And…” He chuckled sourly. “If it’s going to be a fight, I’d rather their eyes were on me than...than the others.”
“On blondie.”
“Or any of them.” He shook his head, still staring up into the bleak clouds. “They’ll be down there fighting, and I...I can’t even help. This is all I can do.”
“That’s how I feel about it too,” Olivia said. Her side shook with every word, and he felt her shift, pressing closer. “I owe you this much. For starting things. For being…” She drifted to a stop, and turned her face away from him. “If I can help a little, then... maybe the rest is okay, too.”
She was shaking, ever so slightly. Daniel sighed. “Idiot,” he whispered. Slowly, his limbs stiff, he slid his arm around her shoulders to tug her closer.
“Thanks,” Olivia mumbled.
He smiled, but let the quiet stand. Every so often a car would drift past along the distant freeway, breaking the silence with its rumble. And every time he heard their engines, he felt himself stiffen, only relaxing when it passed.
“I really am sorry, you know.”
Daniel lifted his gaze from the patch of concrete in front of them. “What?”
Olivia shifted. Her cheek pressed into his shoulder. “About back then. What happened.”
“Oh.” He stared ahead, his expression wooden. “Don’t lie to me. Not now, after all this.”
“I’m not.”
“Olivia-”
“I wish things had been different,” she whispered. “I wish I hadn’t...that I’d…”
“We’re a bit past that now,” Daniel said.
“I know.” He felt her laugh, even though the sound was inaudible. “And...I wouldn’t have regretted...that. With you. But not like that.” She pressed a hand to her face, shaking her head. “I was such an idiot.”
“Little bit. Yep.”
She kicked his ankle. He chuckled, biting back a wince, and she slowly relaxed.
“I’m not sorry I did it, Owl,” she said, letting her head fall against his shoulder again. “But I’m sorry about the why.”
Daniel just...nodded. Everything else had been said.
He knew she wasn’t lying, not about what mattered. There was no point to that anymore. He still couldn’t quite bring himself to forgive her—but neither could he bring himself to care, with the cold wrapped in tight around them and his terrified pulse racing away the seconds.
They were a long way from that warm, sunny day in Alexandria’s gardens. Maybe it was time they left that behind.
“Daniel,” he whispered. “It’s Daniel.”
Olivia stiffened—and her hand brushed his knee, just for a moment. “Daniel.”
He smiled. There. The cat was finally well-and-truly out of the bag. He found he didn’t mind so much.
Huddled against the night, they waited. Daniel’s eyelids drooped lower.
Somewhere out there, Leon and the others were waiting, too. Sitting together in a car, waiting for the call that trouble had arrived. They’d be warm and mostly-hidden, whispering to each other.
They’d be fine. All of them. All they had to do was stick to the plan.
Something inside Daniel’s gut prickled. A warmth.
No, not a warmth. A warning. It spread through his senses, until his ears strained and the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight on end. Daniel raised himself, easing away from the half-wall around the rooftop.
“Daniel?” Under the blanket of surprise in her voice, he could make out the first whispers of fear.
“Quiet,” he whispered. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted himself far enough to peer over the edge.
Nothing—just darkness and black streets, shadowy buildings with boarded-up windows. Here and there, a distant figure trudged through the night, headed for home, but they were few and far between. None of them were what he’d felt.
Because the warning trill hadn’t died away. It sang louder by the second, until his eyes flicked desperately from street to street around them.
Olivia’s hand pressed against his shoulder. She pushed him back do
wn from the ledge, and even though her expression was neutral, he saw her grab a brick from the pile. “What’s going on?”
Daniel took a deep breath. And he could hear it, then. It was more than just his imagination—the thrum of an engine drawing closer. Several engines.
And he knew.
Drawing his jacket about him more tightly, he pulled his hood up, offering Olivia a wan smile.
“They’re here.”
- Chapter Twenty-Eight -
“Shit,” Olivia whispered, the words tiny and small against the murk. Her eyes went round, and as if by instinct, she started lifting herself to peer over the half-wall.
Daniel grabbed hold, dragging her back down before she could give them away. “Stop that.”
“Is it them?”
That ominous feeling in his gut was still spreading, seeping all the way to his fingertips. Daniel nodded, sucking in a ragged breath. “Y-Yeah. I think so.”
“Crap.”
Daniel dug in his pocket for his phone. He needed to let Leon and the others know. They still needed to be careful—it made no sense for them to go to these lengths only for the three of them to get caught at this late stage—but they needed a warning, too.
As his fingers closed around plastic, the sound of stone scraping filled his ears. He stiffened, looking up.
Olivia leaned forward, on her knees, and cradled a brick against her chest. She had another in her other hand as well, braced on the roof.
“What are you doing?” Daniel hissed. “Olivia-”
“Quiet.” She grinned, but it came out looking more like a grimace. “J-Just call your friends, would you?”
Your friends. His mind was too filled with panic to really dissect her words, but even in that whisper-thin moment, there was just something terribly sad about the way she said it.
“Fine,” he said, tearing his eyes off her long enough to key his phone on.
The rumbling of the engines stayed there as he typed, growing louder by the second. Hurry, his senses sang. Type faster.
They’re here
With one final tap to send, Daniel flipped the phone shut, shoving it back into his pocket. Hopefully, Maya would know enough not to come charging straight in. Hopefully, they’d all remember the plan.