by T. C. Edge
What none of us had thought, however, was that they’d use fire to do it. It may just be that they had plans to burn down the forest regardless as to whether we attacked them en route or not. Still, far away, it’s obvious that the flames are being fanned, the Elementals pressing them forward and melting the woods, charring the earth and making it easy for a force of thousands to pass through.
The beasts will be forced to retreat as we are, and the Shadows that lurk will seek other grounds. The village of the Fangs will be caught up in it too, dozens of square miles worth of woodland razed to the ground, the earth scorched as if mimicking the more arid lands these people seem to hail from.
So, though I wish to rest and stop in some secret crevice until dawn, we cannot risk such a thing. The constant rush of my life continues, and we spend hour on hour on the march, only stopping intermittently to snatch brief periods of rest.
We pass no one and see no one. Only Zander, experienced tracker as he is, spots the occasional track in the mud that speaks of one of our allies heading east.
He stops to inspect them but only briefly, identifying the type of footwear on show. There appears to be a mixture, the boots worn by the Nameless all coming in different shapes and sizes, those of the Stalkers all identical. From the direction of travel, it appears as though the surviving Stalkers are making their way back to the REEF, with the Nameless heading for the western gate to Outer Haven. No tracks are discovered to identify the Fangs.
“Don’t worry,” Zander tells me, equally adept at identifying my emotional state as searching for tracks. “Rhoth will lead his people to safety. They’ll be fine, Brie.”
I have to take his word for it.
As we get closer to the city, he starts to attempt contact with the gate using the radio. At first we appear out of range, but soon enough he’s able to get through, hastily informing the garrison to expect our forces to arrive in dribs and drabs.
None, by the sounds of it, have yet arrived. That’s no surprise given how we’re still many miles out. However, he does learn that the Fangs from the village have made it safely, and have been transferred to a nearby camp within the city walls. I just have to hope that most of their hunters manage to return to join them.
The night goes on, and through the thickening canopy in the heart of the forest, the light of the moon and stars is further blotted. I find my ability to see in the dark somewhat muted here, owing to my ever-increasing state of exhaustion. My Dasher powers are all but depleted, my energy reserves now low enough to force us to do little more than walk at a brisk pace.
All the while, Zander’s own reserves remain rather more full. Over the many years he’s had utilising and evolving his powers, he’s grown capable of maintaining them for far longer in combat and under physical duress. Right now, I’m little better than a regular Unenhanced, my physical capabilities having reached their limit and my body in dire need of rest to rebuild and recuperate my energy stores.
Zander, however, knows his limits far better, and I’m well aware that they’re far deeper than my own. I can operate in small bursts mostly, and when using my Dasher powers, my fitness continues to be a problem. Without him here right now, I’d be extremely vulnerable here in the wilds. And even with him, we remain in a dangerous situation so far from home.
As I continue to flag and slow, Zander takes the decision to head for the REEF. At any other time, it would appear to be folly to choose such a course. But times being as they are, he assures me it’s a sensible move.
“The Stalkers will be arriving soon, if not already,” he says. “Cromwell will no doubt be readying himself and his people to move for the city. It won’t take long for the Cure’s army to spread this way, and seeing as they’re burning down the forest, Cromwell can’t wait at the REEF any longer in case the flames spread this way.”
I know he’s right, although I’m sure the REEF wouldn’t be affected by the burning forest. Its walls are high and thick and the tree line ends a decent distance from them, giving them a nature buffer. Yet, the risk isn’t the flames, but what will come after them.
“So…we hitch a ride?” I ask.
“Exactly. We’re still a long way from the western gate. It sounds odd to say it, I know, but we’ll be safer travelling with Director Cromwell and the Stalkers.”
Odd indeed. But, right now I have no strength to quibble.
“Fine. If you think it’s best,” I say.
With the REEF not too far away, we begin diverting our course, travelling slightly to the south rather than heading directly east. By now, the mountains are growing larger to the north, and were it still standing, the High Tower might just be visible in the distance too.
Alas, that beacon has gone, and now here we are, facing a rampaging horde. I can’t deny that it grates quite deeply, knowing that Cromwell hasn’t lied to us once. Knowing that everything he’s said has been accurate. And that we do now rely very heavily on his Stalkers in order to help keep the city safe.
I think, in many ways, I wished to find some deceit in him. I wished that he’d been tricking us all along, merely using all of this as a means of creeping his way back through the door and reinstating himself within the ranks of the city. I wished for it, in the end, so it would give me a better opportunity to seek my vengeance when he was found out.
Yet, perhaps that won’t happen. Maybe we really do need him…need each other.
With the night beginning to lighten just a touch, and the first threads of dawn not too far away, the wall of the REEF comes into view. I shudder at the sight of it, this place of suffering and pain and torture. A place where normal people are made into slaves, or terminated for not fitting in with my grandfather’s vision of the world.
It is an evil, cold, oppressive place, and within it right now, so many people who share its characteristics reside. Our long time enemy, turned temporary ally. And, who knows, perhaps our ties might just tighten in the times to come.
I hate the idea, of course, and so many others will too. Yet I have no authority within this arrangement to determine our course. I have no choice but to leave that up to better minds than mine. And, above all, I trust my grandmother to do what’s best for the people under her care. As much as I hate my grandfather, she has far more claim to that than I. And if she can form a partnership for our mutual benefit, who exactly am I to argue against it?
So, as I look upon the REEF, and feel that horrible shudder run up my spine, I keep my thoughts to myself. I walk beside my brother, who also has more claim than I do to detest having to come here, who’s spent his life fighting these people and what they represent, and make my way towards the front gate.
And inside, the rumbling of engines filters through their air, and the shuffling of movement sounds. Atop the walls, some of the City Guards stationed here see us coming. They call out for us to halt, and we do so immediately.
Arms aloft, Zander shouts out for them not to shoot. In such times, they may have orders to shoot on the spot anyone not garbed as either City Guards or Stalkers.
“My name is Zander, commander of the forces of the Nameless,” my brother calls out. “We have come from the battle at the edge of the woods. We fight with the Stalkers, and with Director Cromwell, and we require transfer to Haven immediately…”
The men instantly recognise him, and their weapons are quickly lowered. The gates begin to grind open, and through we pass into the REEF.
Not as captives, but friends.
239
The main square within the REEF is bustling and busy. Stalkers and City Guards march around here and there. A large convoy of vehicles is being prepared to move out, the REEF emptied and all personnel transferred to the safety of Haven.
Arriving inside, we find a stern looking man walking our way, his black armour showing signs of recent battle. His face is craggy, eyes severe and dark, probably in his early forties by the looks of him. I know immediately that this is the leader of the Stalkers, Colonel Hatcher.
“Zander,” he says, marching straight for my brother. “We haven’t officially met, but I know just who you are. I see you managed to escape the fight. I’m not surprised.”
“Nor am I to see you here, Colonel Hatcher. How many of your Stalkers made it out?”
“Most,” he says gruffly. “Not all have been accounted for yet. Some got separated during the battle. They may be dead or merely yet to return. About thirty-five are here. We may have lost ten or more.”
He speaks without any apparent caring for the men he’s lost. That isn’t surprising at all. Yet, as Lady Orlando said, he does remind me of Beckett, so recently departed. I guess now that he’s gone, my brother is the rebels’ most senior military officer.
Then again, can we still call ourselves rebels? It doesn’t seem appropriate anymore…
“That’s a heavy loss,” says Zander, seeming rather more concerned by it than Hatcher. “I don’t yet know how many Nameless were killed…”
“And Commander Beckett?” questions Hatcher.
“Dead,” says Zander, shaking his head. “He got caught in the flames. Ordered the retreat, then…” He trails off, refusing to finish the sentence.
“A shame,” says Colonel Hatcher. “We can ill afford to lose men with the capabilities of Commander Beckett.” He looks at me for the first time. “I see this is your sister, Brie. You look weary, young lady. I imagine you came here to seek transfer to Haven?”
“Yes,” says Zander. “The path through the woods is dangerous. We thought it best to travel with the convoy, assuming you’re leaving soon?”
“We are. Director Cromwell has been in communication with Lady Orlando. She has green-lit our transfer to Outer Haven. We can’t afford to stay here much longer with this enemy approaching.”
“The Cure,” says Zander. “That’s what they call themselves. Were you not aware of their strength, Colonel? Surely your intel informed you that they’d have Elementals with them?”
“We had some knowledge of what sorts of soldiers they possessed,” he admits calmly. “Yet we couldn’t have known about their true capabilities. We wouldn’t have chosen to willingly walk into such a battle if we had, would we?”
“Perhaps not. Clearly they took us all by surprise. Where’s Director Cromwell?”
“Inside. We’ll be moving momentarily. This way, follow me.”
He leads us through the main square and sea of bodies, ripping like black and grey waves as they go about their duties. The various buildings of the REEF, tall and intimidating with harsh, uninviting facades, sit ahead. We enter into the central building and move down the featureless corridor into an office. There, we find a reception committee I’d prefer to never have to deal with.
The white clad remains of the Consortium, Agent Woolf, and Director Cromwell, all stand around a table. By the looks of things, they’re discussing the night’s events and imminent transfer to Haven. All look more dishevelled than ever, their once pristine clothing growing dirtier by the day. It’s as if all their suits and special Consortium attire was blown up along with the High Tower, leaving them with the unpalatable option of either wearing something below their station, or merely sticking with their current clothing and letting themselves fester.
Colonel Hatcher is the first to speak.
“Apologies for the interruption, Director Cromwell. We have special guests.”
He steps aside to reveal Zander and me. All eyes turn to us with little to no surprise within them.
“Ah, I see. Thank you, Colonel Hatcher. Please continue to make preparations for the convoy.”
“Yes, Director,” says Hatcher, before slipping from the room.
Standing there, I feel rather vulnerable, as if I’ve just willingly stepped into a nest of venomous snakes. Yet, the reality is quite different – after all, it’s my brother and me who are armed to the teeth. Should we wish it, we could wipe out the entire top brass of the old enemy right now.
It’s a real sign of the times that the thought comes and goes with so little conviction. It would, of course, mean both of our deaths. And, well, we can’t exactly kill Cromwell knowing how his Stalkers and Con-Cops will react. But still, even without those conditions, the temptation to kill the lot of them, which would once have been so strong, isn’t currently present.
Right now, there’s a much bigger threat facing the city that we have to deal with together.
“Zander and Brie, a pleasure to welcome you here under better circumstances than the last time,” says Cromwell. “I’m happy to see you survived the battle without too much ill effect. I understand you don’t yet know how many of your men survived?”
“Not yet, Director Cromwell,” says Zander. “I hope no worse a ratio than your Stalkers.”
“I hope so too. It appears we were a little underprepared for what came our way.”
“Yes,” says Zander swiftly. “At least now we know just what we’re facing. You were correct on numbers. There’s at least ten thousand in the main army.”
Cromwell nods.
“And where did you get this confirmation?”
“An envoy was sent to the Fangs. I discovered the information from him. They are barbarians who call themselves the Cure. They are more of a plague, Director. They spread through the lands and take what people and resources they can. They have been building up to this for years. Destroying Haven is their ultimate goal.”
“Yes indeed, I am aware,” says Cromwell calmly. “I did tell you all this already. Naturally, your trust in me is somewhat lacking. I understand and appreciate that. However, perhaps now what information I give you all will be taken at face value?”
“I’d imagine so,” says Zander.
“Good. I have my intel, yet it isn’t enough to build a complete picture of these people. What you have witnessed tonight is worrying, very worrying indeed. We can only hope that the main force isn’t as capable as those you faced this evening.”
“They won’t be,” asserts Zander confidently. “We were undone by fire tonight. We can’t let that happen again. Had their Elementals not been present, we’d have defeated them, of that I’m sure. We have to make those men the absolute priority targets. Fighting against a wall of flame is impossible, Director. If they breach the city walls, there’s no reason why they won’t be able to turn Haven into an inferno.”
“Yes, Colonel Hatcher thought along similar lines, young man. I suggest you work closely with him from this point on.”
Zander nods.
“I will do what is necessary to protect the city and the people,” he says proudly.
“Indeed. And so our alliance deepens through death. You will both ride with me to Haven. It will be a nice signal to the city that our paths are now entwined.”
I clench my teeth weakly at the suggestion. If I had more energy my jaw would clamp tighter.
“Right then, there’s little point in delaying further,” continues Cromwell. He looks to his companions, and gestures for them to gather up their things. “Everyone, head outside. We will further our talks back in the city…”
As they begin to prepare for departure, I start to wonder just who else might still be here. The REEF, after all, is a place used for extermination and reconditioning, and has cells filled with mostly innocent people awaiting that fate. Are those cells full right now?
As the Consortium begin moving out through the door, I speak for the first time.
“I trust the cells here are empty, Director,” I say.
He turns to me, but doesn’t answer immediately.
Then he smiles.
“Brie, ever the moral crusader. I can see what you’re getting at.”
“So, are they?” I ask again.
He shakes his head.
“They are not empty, I’m afraid to say.”
“Then make sure they are,” I say immediately. “What were you planning to do? Leave people in their cells to die?”
“It sounds callous to you, of course,” says Cromwell. “However, thes
e people were only going to be terminated anyway, or else reconditioned and made to serve. With time being so short, we have no opportunity to do that now…”
“Jeez. Stop and listen to yourself. At least you admit it sounds callous. Let them out immediately!”
Cromwell draws back and straightens up, unused to being talked to in such a fashion. Those still in the room look to him to see how he might react. I feel no compulsion to tiptoe around this despot. He needs someone to set his moral compass to order, an impossible task though it is.
“We don’t have the space to take them back to the city,” he says. “These people are criminals under the laws of Haven…”
“Criminals!” I say, ready to put him straight on that matter. He shuts me down before I can get going.
“BUT…” he says loudly, halting my voice. “I will concede that at times of war, exceptions can be made. “I will be prepared to release the prisoners and let them make their way to the city on foot…”
“Nope, not good enough, Artemis,” I say, my use of his first name deliberately disrespectful. If I can’t kill him, I’ll damn well disrespect him whenever possible. “It’s too dangerous on the road. We’ll head for Haven and send the convoy back to collect them.”
“Brie,” mutters Cromwell, trying to hide his anger. “What makes you think you have any authority to make demands here?”
“Me? Well, sure, I don’t have much. But get Lady Orlando on the line, and you’ll get your authority. I’m fairly sure she’ll side with me, Artemis, and not you. Don’t trip yourself up here. Just do it, OK. Do a good thing for once in your damn life.”
My continued disrespect draws Zander’s voice into my head. I hear him whispering for me to cool my tongue and stop aggravating him.
I can’t. I’m having too much of a good time seeing the expression on his otherwise placid face. Oh, how he tries to hide it. It’s bloody well hilarious seeing him losing even a modicum of his perpetual cool.
