by C B Williams
With a nod to Flick, Wren silently slipped out the back and into mayhem. Shouts, gunfire, torchlight, flickering figures. And screams. The screams of her Kin in Tunnel Two.
Wren ducked behind a fence to get her bearings. A group of Martials ran by in that jerky trot-march they seemed to believe looked threatening.
Their guns were what made them threatening.
And their destination was Tunnel Two.
She had to get there first to have any hope of saving even a few of her Kin. From the sounds, hope was fleeting.
Like a lizard, Wren shimmied up a rusted drainpipe barely attached to her compound, a reminder that Sub-City had once been the City. Like Mouse, she had been trained to use rooftops as highways for her work. Ever aware that someone might look up, she darted from rooftop to rooftop, and arrived at Two before the Martials. She speculated she had five minutes at best to get in and get out with whatever survivors she could find. She was most worried about Spider. She needed his knowledge, especially when they moved to Above.
The opening was unguarded and she slipped in…and her heart plummeted as her stomach heaved at what she saw.
Her Kin were putting up a good fight. There were several Martials sprawled on the floor, some still alive, most dead. But her KinFolk were still vastly outnumbered, weak to begin with, and losing quickly. From what Wren could patch together in the few seconds she had, the tide had turned against the Kin when the Martials managed to burn the rope bridges and ladders, trapping them up near the ceiling. Through the smoke and flickering firelight, she frantically searched for any who were escaping, hoping Spider was one of them.
When she heard tramping feet, she melted against the tunnel and held still, just as the group of Martials she had outdistanced made their entrance.
And then the carnage began in earnest. A nightmare unfolded before her eyes.
All the defensive plans she, Flick, and Cricket had devised. All the escape routes they had made the Kin memorize.
Useless.
Why didn’t we think to use chains instead of rope?
And there was nothing she could do to help her Kin except keep herself alive to lead the survivors out of Sub-City.
The bile rose in her throat so quickly, she fell to her knees and emptied the contents of her last meal.
As soon she could move, she slipped out and made her way to Tunnel Five.
Flick was waiting for her just inside the entrance. He stepped out of the shadows, a gun resting comfortably in his hands. She was beyond words and merely shook her head at the question on his face.
“Oh, Wren,” he said and slid an arm around her.
She momentarily allowed herself the luxury of leaning against his familiar strength. Then she stepped away and ran her hand over her coils.
“There wasn’t a thing I could do, Flick,” she told him. Her voice sounded hollow in her ears. “But we’re going to have to mourn them later. How bad is it?”
“It’s bad, Wren,” he told her while they hurried deeper into the tunnels. As her eyes adjusted, she noticed Flick had positioned sharpshooters in key positions. “We’ve been ambushed. It looks like they’ve got two groups going. From what the eyes have told me, the Martials are focused on Tunnel Two.”
“Yeah, I saw that,” Wren said. “And the second group?”
“Well-armed Kin. Both Fergus and MacMichaels. They’re sweeping the KinLand, capturing, not killing, hunting for our compound.” He smirked. “Went to the biggest, fanciest house first. You were so smart to pick a more modest headquarters.”
Wren nodded. “It saved our lives,” she told him. “That big mansion made a perfect decoy. At least they’re not killing Kin.” She stopped walking, forcing Flick to follow suit. “We’ve got a chance against Kin, Flick, but not against the Martials. Once they’re done with Two, they’ll start a sweep of our KinLand. Are all your eyes out?”
Flick nodded. “I’m expecting Flea back soon.”
“When Flea comes back, send her out for a final sweep. Have her spread the word we’re going to blow the main entrance of Five, so go to the side entrance. Move your snipers into position to the side. It’s narrower and easier to defend,” She shook her head. “I doubt very much there are many survivors left. Did many Kin make it to here?”
“A few, Wren.”
She shook her head. “This morning there were nearly five hundred of us.” Her voice cracked.
“Don’t go there, Wren. We need your wits.”
“I’m not going there, Flick. Where’s Mouse?”
“Mouse went through the tunnels back down to Two to see if she can find any survivors.”
“Cricket?”
“In the main cavern, where we’re arming ourselves.”
“That’s where I’ll be.” She pulled out her timekeeper, wiped the lint off its cracked face. Flick did the same. “Let’s get out of here. Meet me there in twenty. We’ll blow the tunnel in fifteen, starting the count now.” They synchronized their timekeepers. “Get your snipers stationed.” She gripped his meaty arm before he could move away. “What I want to know is who told the Martials where we were holding our hide, and that we were beginning tonight. This is no coincidence.”
She watched the blood drain from his face.
“Go follow your orders, Flick. I’ll handle this part.” She gave his arm a little push. “No traitor’s going to come with us when we move out, I can promise you that.”
The main storeroom was lit with both electricity and torches, usually a cheerful sight after walking through the gloom. Now it stood as a beacon for any survivors, although there were only a pathetic few. Wren found Skip handing out blankets. Rabbit, his son, headed to a bench where five wide-eyed people sat huddled together.
“Don’t get comfortable,” Wren shouted before Rabbit could hand out his first blanket. “We’re not staying here.”
Heads turned when they heard her. Her Kin began to bombard her with questions.
“Not now,” Wren said, raising her hands. “We’ve things to do, and not much time in which to do them.” She looked at the small crowd around her. The last time her Kin had gathered, it was hot and crowded. Now Tunnel Five looked cavernous, ready to swallow them up.
“Has anyone taken a head count?” she asked.
“Thirty-five,” Cricket said, appearing at her side.
Her chest ached.
“Listen up, everybody. We’ll leave as soon as we can. The main entrance to Tunnel Five will be blown. When it goes, it will give us a little bit of time to get out of here.”
“Where will we go?” someone asked. “There’s no one in Sub-City who’ll take us.”
“We’re not staying in Sub-City,” Wren said. “We’re going Above.”
“Above?” Rabbit asked, glancing at his father. “But we don’t know anything about Above.”
Wren snorted. “Would you rather stay here?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Mouse has gone over to Two to bring back survivors, if there are any.” She glanced over at Skip. “I’m sorry. I know Guy was there. I wouldn’t hold out much hope.”
“Guy’s not there,” Rabbit said. “Guy’s here.” He pointed to a boy, his arm in a sling, who stood just behind Skip. From where Wren stood, the boy had more than just a broken collarbone. She’d seen that look in her own eyes.
Wren turned slowly to face Skip. His face was a white mask. “It was you, wasn’t it?” Wren said through gritted teeth. Her hand moved to one of her knives.
“It was him, what?” asked Cricket. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke.
“Not now,” Wren said. She took a steadying breath. “Too much to do. Cricket, do not let Skip out of your sight. I want you glued to his side.”
“Skip.” She forced herself to look at him. “This is not finished, but for now I want you to fill as many runners’ packs as you can with foodstuffs and hand them out.” She looked at Skip’s two boys. Their round eyes looked darker against their pale faces. “Boys,” she said, “hand out blankets.
Each person gets one until they’re gone.”
“Listen up, Kin,” she called, addressing the survivors. “We’re all in shock, and we’re all scared. We will not survive unless we override that fear. Get in line. Get your pack of food and your blanket. When Mouse and Flick get here, they’ll take you to safety. In the meantime, I want you quiet and ready. I repeat, we will not survive unless we override our fear. Now, line up.”
She turned back to Cricket. “Stay glued to that man,” she said, jabbing her finger. “I’m going to find Mouse.”
She darted into the warren of tunnels that led to Two, praying Mouse had found at least Spider alive. Halfway there, she intercepted Mouse and Spider, who was carrying a small boy on his back.
Relief washed over her, followed closely by sorrow. “I hoped there’d be more,” she said, feeling hollowed out.
“It happened so fast,” Spider rasped. “I did what I could. It just happened so fast,” he repeated.
“It was a massacre,” Mouse said.
Wren nodded. “I know. I saw.”
“What now?”
“We move to the Above, like we planned,” Wren said, leading them back to Five. She fed Mouse and Spider details as they went.
“You realize we’ve been compromised,” Spider said.
“I know. It was Skip, and I should have seen it coming. Should have read the signs,” Wren replied.
Mouse touched her shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. Save it for later.”
Wren barked out a laugh. “Right.”
The explosion rumbled through the tunnels and they staggered. Wren looked at her watch. “Tunnel Five’s main entrance. Right on schedule. Which means Flick will be on his way. Let’s hurry. I need to deal with Skip before we move out.” Her teeth clenched with the thought.
“But what could I do?” Skip’s voice was a little more than a whisper. “They had my son. I had no choice.”
“Of course you had a choice,” Wren spat. “You could have told me immediately. Both your boys are my Kin. I would have protected them. We could have used your boys against Fergus and MacMichaels. We could have made a plan, fed them information. Manipulated them. But now? Now? Now one of my best runners has been injured. Tortured for information. And you, my Grainier, have forced me to kill you.”
She grabbed his face on either side, compelling him to look at her. He struggled, but two KinFolk held him fast.
“And the Martials know where we are hiding. Every last one of us is on the Cull list. Because you didn’t trust me to take care of my own.”
Abruptly, she dropped her hands and turned, blinking to clear her vision. Her Kin watched her silently, fearfully.
“Gather your things,” she told them. “It’s time to move out. We’re not going to make this easy for them.”
“What about Skip?” someone asked hesitantly.
Wren sighed, the weight of her decision so heavy she wished she could sit. “Betrayal means death,” she answered, “but frankly, I am so tired of death…” One of the Kin gasped when a blade appeared in her hand.
Knife in her hand she turned back to Skip. “I can always kill you later, Skip. But I am done with it this day.”
With a swift movement, she wedged Skip’s mouth open and cut out half his tongue.
His cry was thin and reedy.
“Father!” Rabbit cried. He looked at Wren. “You cut out his tongue,” he said, incredulous.
“And he’s still alive,” Wren told him. “Count your blessings, boy.”
“Someone cauterize the wound,” she commanded, wiping her knife on Skip’s shirt before throwing the tongue to the far end of the cave. “We will leave in ten. Flick, Mouse,” she said, re-sheathing her weapon.
They stood off to the side, trying to make their plans in spite of Skip’s anguished cries…which eventually turned into whimpers when someone told him to shut it, and that he could have been dead like the ones in Tunnel Two.
Wren glanced at Flick. “Not a good night,” she said.
He nodded, his expression gloomy. “I’ve experienced happier times.”
“Ditto,” Mouse agreed. “Why’d you do it, Wren? Cut out his tongue?”
“Just couldn’t kill him, Mouse. He loves his son. He was scared.”
“I could have done it for you, Wren,” Mouse said softly.
“I know, and I thank you for it. But we need him. Only have one Grainier. Besides, I think he understands my intentions.”
“And he won’t be able to rat us out no more this way,” Flick added.
“Truth,” Mouse said.
“So, we take to the tunnels,” Wren told them. “You both know the way to the fountain square. Get them there. Get them settled like we planned.”
“What about you?” asked Flick.
“I’ll create a diversion so you won’t be followed.”
“It should be me,” Flick protested. “You’re needed to lead.”
“No, Flick. Me. I know these tunnels, and I’ll lead the Martials on the merriest chase of their blighted little lives. Then I’ll meet you back at the square. And you, you know explosives. Mouse, you take the front, and Flick, when it’s all clear, blow the tunnel to Above so you can’t be followed.”
“But you’ll be stuck,” Mouse said.
“I know the tunnels, and I know the Above,” Wren told her. “I can’t be stuck,” She paused. “But if it takes me more than a week, contact Max. He owes me quite a few favors.”
“Max? Who’s Max?” Flick asked.
“Someone I knew from my time Above. Mouse knows him. He can’t be trusted anymore than anyone can be trusted, but he’s been a good bloke to me. And he owes me.”
“I don’t like it,” said Mouse, shaking her head.
“Got a better plan? We haven’t got much time to argue. Are the snipers in place, Flick?”
“They are.”
“Any hope for stragglers?”
“Flea confirmed the other Kins are recruiting our survivors.”
“That’s good, means they’re safe from the Cull. Get your snipers back.”
Flick called over to Flea to give her the instructions. With barely a nod, Flea was off.
Wren scanned her Kin while they gathered their meager supplies, and shook her head. “Out of all my Kin, these are the only ones left. How many, Flick?”
“If you count the snipers, forty-five.”
“That’s all?”
Flick sighed. “’Fraid so. We got slammed.”
Wren felt her throat thickening. She covered her face with her hands and silently counted to five.
Flick touched her arm. “They’re not all dead, Wren. Most are just being recruited. Think on that.”
Wren smiled at him and nodded. “You take the rest, then, and keep them safe.” She flung an arm around each of them. “They’re my Kin, but you both are my family. Keep yourselves safe, too. And Spider. Trust Spider. He’s our best asset for understanding the Above. No risks, none of you. Just survive.” She released them, and stepped back. “Let’s pack up. The Martials won’t wait for us to escape.”
Wren crossed over to where Skip and his sons were loading a distribution cart with the last of their portable supplies.
She studied his bruised and swollen face. There was fresh blood at the corners of his mouth. Inwardly she cringed. Outwardly, she waited, hoping her judgment had been sound.
When he noticed her, Skip nodded, looking at her warily. His boys did the same.
“I need a pack of the basics,” she said quietly. “Then you and your boys get in line. You’ve filled that cart enough. It’s time to go.”
Skip motioned to Rabbit to bring him a pack, and he filled it with meal bars and a bladder of water. When he handed it to her, Skip grasped both her hands and squeezed them tight before releasing them.
She felt her tension dissipate. She nodded to him, showing that she understood, and slung the pack onto her back.
He saluted her in return and then motioned to his boys
to hurry.
She crossed over to Flick. “Skip’s going to be okay,” she told him. “I’m fetching more knives for my merry chase. You leave. Now.”
Before he could answer, they both heard deep, roaring growls reverberating through the tunnels.
They froze, their expressions identical.
Someone screamed.
Wren pushed him. “Go, Flick. There’s barely enough time.”
“But Wren, they’re sniffers.”
“All the more reason to stop wasting time.”
She looked for Mouse, relieved to see she and Spider were already leading the surviving Kin into the tunnel.
“Blow the tunnel, Flick, as soon as it’s clear.”
“Wren—”
She grinned. “I know, Flick, sniffers. We do what we need to do. Now go.” She saw their fear “Go. I do not want any more Kin to die.”
She didn’t wait, but hurried toward the growling barks, determined to make the sniffers catch her scent first. On her way, she risked a brief stop at the arsenal to shove a handful of throwing knives into her pockets.
She didn’t want to die, either.
Two knives left. Wren leaned against the tunnel wall and sucked huge gulps of air into her exhausted lungs. She squinted through the endless grey, grateful she’d finally found a tunnel that wasn’t pitch black. It meant there was some hope she might escape. She wondered what time it was. Near dawn, she suspected.
The sniffers were closing in again. She had managed to keep ahead of them as she raced through the tunnels. Barely. They were faster. But she was smaller. When she came to an intersection, she had chosen the tunnels with the smallest openings, forcing the sniffers to dig to before they could fit through. It bought her some time.
In the beginning, there had been eight of them following her trail. Now there were three. The odds were still not in her favor. If she was lucky, and her aim was true, she would have only one sniffer to deal with in the end.
They were larger.
Much larger.