by Nik Korpon
“What happened to them? Where are they?”
Before he can speak, more bullets pepper the wall.
Those cocksuckers. Axel goes to stand but I yank the rifle from him, jump to my feet and spray the area to the right, then left, then center, concentrating on a car where the shots were coming from. Five seconds of firing and one tags the gas tank, making the whole car jump three feet in the air when it explodes in a great ball of fire.
I duck back down and shove the rifle at Axel.
“Where are they.” I’m not asking anymore.
“They fled into the mountains yesterday with our leader, Hemdälr.”
My body sinks, my vision narrowing to pinpoints. So close, yet so far. Everything I love remains perpetually just out of reach.
“I thought this was where the camp was.” I wave around, indicating the city.
“It is. But when Ragjarøn stormed the city yesterday, most of the camp fled.” He motions across the street, where I now see two boys hidden in a third-floor window, their rifle barrels barely poking out from behind curtains. Snipers. God damn, if these boys haven’t been well trained. “A handful of us stayed behind to hold off the troops, let our people get to safety.”
“Then they can’t be that far if it’s only been a day.” I can still catch them. I can find them and I can bring them home. There is still hope.
Axel shrugs. “Hemdälr is local. He knows these mountains. He was born here.” He pauses to let off a few shots, then comes back to me. “All I know is that they’re headed north to some village called Umåyø. We’re supposed to reconvene there once we’ve eliminated the troops, then make our way to someplace Hemdälr told us about.”
“And then what?”
He gives me a look scarily reminiscent to his father. “Keep moving or train to fight back.”
Ragjarøn will continue to send troops. The boys won’t be able to outlast them forever. And every day that passes, my boys trek farther and farther away from me. I can’t let them go. I can’t wait.
“Which way is north?”
He points it out for me, just beyond the buildings to our left.
“I have to go,” I tell him. “I have to find them.”
I try to return the handgun but he shoves it back, then fishes out another magazine for me. “You’re going to need it.”
I nod, then borrow the rifle from him and take out two more cars with a few well-placed shots. Consider it my parting gift.
“Good luck,” I tell him.
“You too.”
I crouch down and wait. Then, when a lull in firing comes, I sprint across the street, zigging and zagging to remain a hard target. When I pass the buildings on the other side, I stand more upright, letting my legs move faster.
Within two minutes I’m away from the buildings and all the fighting. The terrain has changed quickly. Where before there were flat, paved surfaces, there are now skull-sized rocks tossed around as some sort of path. I slow down and catch my breath, looking up at what’s before me.
I can’t even see the top of the mountains, shrouded in fog, thousands of feet above me. A valley runs in between two of the taller peaks, a harsh V carved in the middle of the severe terrain. Simply looking at them chills my blood, imagining the cold and the wind and the ice.
But my boys are out there. I don’t know where they are, but I will find them.
I pull down my goggles. I pull up my balaclava. And I start walking.
“I’m coming, boys,” I say to the mountains towering above me. “I’m coming.”
Acknowledgments
I owe huge thanks to more people than I could fit on this page, but I’ll try anyway.
Thank you to my wonderful publisher (Phil, Penny, Nick, Marc, and Mike) for believing in this book.
Thank you to my wonderful agent Stacia Decker for helping make this book readable.
Thank you to my so-so friend Rob Hart for having an idea so great I had to steal it (but seriously, go buy his books, they’re awesome).
And infinite thanks to my lovely wife Amanda and my beautiful children Donovan and Ruby. You’re the reason for everything I do.
About the Author
Nik Korpon is the author of several books, including The Soul Standard and Stay God, Sweet Angel. He lives in Baltimore with his wife and two children.
nikkorpon.com • twitter.com/nikkorpon
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Sing a song of liberty
An Angry Robot paperback original 2018
Copyright © Nik Korpon 2018
Nik Korpon asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
UK ISBN 978 0 85766 659 8
US ISBN 978 0 85766 659 8
EBook ISBN 978 0 85766 660 4
Cover by Steve Stone.
Set by Argh! Nottingham.
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This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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ISBN: 978-0-85766-660-4
