by J. Thorn
Sorcha sniffed again.
“I saw a really tall building, south of here, that looks in good condition,” she said, ignoring the wolf’s obvious lack of enthusiasm. “Looks intact, and I may see how high I can go, maybe get a good view of the land up there, even see over the forest, get some idea of where we are.”
Seren packed up her gear and they made their way out onto the street. For a few minutes, she stood there in the doorway, watching, listening for any movement. The shop front faced a crossroads, and buildings stood in different states of disrepair in all four directions along the street, although many of the shells of the buildings were still standing. Some of the buildings even had roofs that were only moderately damaged. She had seen a lot of ruins while hunting, or during The Walk every year. Hundreds of them. Most were in far worse condition than this city. It was almost as though the world had let this place be and just left it behind by a century or two.
She started down the street toward the building she had spotted the night before. It was six floors to the top, and the metal stairwell barely showed signs of wear. There were no leaks running down the steps, gradually eroding them. Instead, this building had been partially consumed by nature. Reeds and vines grew up from cracks in the floor, and even on the fourth floor the ivy wound its way up through gaps in the brickwork.
But Sorcha didn’t seem to like the place, or so Seren thought. The she-wolf had stopped at the top of the first flight of stairs and peered warily upward.
Just me, then, Seren thought, and continued higher, leaving the wolf alone and starting up the stairs. She made her way up to the top floor. She would have liked to have gone on to the roof, but the stairs didn’t go all the way up and she didn’t like the look of the ladder that went up to a hatch in one corner of the ceiling. Her ankle was starting to throb again, after the haul up the stairs, and she didn’t think the risk of falling from a dodgy ladder was worth the effort. She pushed her way through a partially open door, shifting the debris that was blocking the entrance, and headed into the room.
Sunlight shone through the windows, lighting the whole room with a dim glow and leaving no areas of darkness for someone or something to hide, but Seren cautiously edged through the scattered furniture, listening for any movement around her. Dust had accumulated on the ground and covered every inch of debris. Seren doubted anyone had been there in decades.
The windows were likewise coated in dust, except it had formed a thin layer of grime that obscured much of the sunlight. She rubbed a hand over the window, smearing away years of gathered dirt, and peered outside. Surprisingly, even though the building was tall, there were still areas of the forest nearby that were taller.
No wonder people never found this place, she thought. The forest has swallowed it up.
But across the forest, in the distance, she could make out the first slopes of the mountains, peaks that she recognized. Scanning the horizon, she also made out distant plumes of smoke, maybe thirty miles away to the north-west.
Wytheville, she thought. Where the strangers are.
But the distance seemed too far. Surely she hadn’t gone that far from Wytheville? She wasn’t convinced. The men that had followed her, trailing her through the woods, trying to catch her, had seemed to be following her forever. It had been at least two days. Probably more than two, she thought; it was likely that she had put that much distance between herself and the city ruins. If she wanted to meet up with the Elk and the other clans coming home, she would have to travel northeast, through the forest and over the hills, for more than a day.
The road will be twenty, maybe thirty miles north of here, she thought, and then however many miles east before she met the clans heading back the other way.
I must go that way, she thought. I must warn them about what waits for them at Wytheville.
A bark from down the hall startled her, and she went out into the corridor. Sorcha had braved some more of the stairs, following her all the way up to the top, and now sat there, waiting, her head tilted to one side.
“Itching to leave, already?” Seren asked, and Sorcha huffed in reply. The wolf didn’t look panicked or nervous. “Yeah, I understand. Place gives me the creeps, too.”
Chapter 38
Loner kept ten paces behind Briar. He knew. Briar had dealt with disloyalty before, and his solution had always been vicious but clean. Last spring, a hunter in their clan had taken down a wounded deer. The laws were simple—the first arrow claimed the kill. This hunter had removed the first arrow lodged in the buck’s neck and claimed his arrow brought it down. Briar immediately recognized the original wound. He took the deer, beat the man and cast him from the clan. Loner would not be so bold, so blatant. Briar led their clan—and for good reason.
“Up here.”
The man’s voice broke Loner from his thoughts. He hobbled into the camp, where a low fire licked at the pine bark the men tossed on the flames. Briar motioned for Loner to sit and the others straightened up. Even in the dark of the night Loner could see their bloodshot eyes, but their flasks had been kept inside their vests. The wolves were out there. They had all heard them.
“Me and Loner heard it. Up close. I’m guessing y’all did too.”
The men nodded but none spoke.
“I’m gonna head to the breach in the morning and hope to spot Jonah. I know it’s risky, but we need to find out what’s going on, over there. I’d hoped to see more of them over there before we show ourselves, but I guess they are avoiding open sight to avoid being spotted by Cygoa. They aren’t to know the Cygoa aren’t here in numbers. Dawn’s only a few hours from now.”
Loner looked up into the sky but saw no evidence of daybreak.
“We need everyone on this. There’s Cygoa, wolves, and God only knows what else. Let’s set up a tight perimeter with two-man units. That should keep us from getting ambushed. When Jonah shows his face again, we’ll know what to do.”
Popo looked at Loner and gave him a wide, toothy grin. He slid a hand beneath his vest and pulled it out slowly, revealing the top of a deck of cards.
“Me and Popo. We’ll take the northeast corner.”
“Alright. The rest of you. Pair up and don’t go far.”
Loner and Popo waited, watching Briar and the rest of the clan trudge off in different directions, staying in pairs and with their weapons to hand. Loner grabbed his bow and stood.
“You still owe me five pieces, Popo.”
“Bah! I’ll win it back from you in the first hand. There’s an old rock over there with a flat top. Will make a good table. Unless, of course, you be fraidy cat of the big bad wolves?”
“Fuck you, old man. I’m going to be collecting your stinky, rotten teeth before sun up.”
Popo laughed, the sound morphing into a wet, wheezy cough. He motioned with one hand for Loner to follow. They walked a hundred yards into the forest, stopping at the huge boulder Popo had talked about.
“Here.”
Loner turned around and raised his eyebrows. “I can’t even see the fire. Briar ain’t gonna be happy if he don’t know where we are. Or worst yet, we miss something coming through.”
“Ain’t nothing coming through. Wolves is long gone, now they had their fill of those others. They don’t like the breach, I reckon, and have left. Sit down and git your pieces out.”
Loner reached into his satchel and threw a handful of dried deer hide chunks down on the rock. The pieces had been too small for anything useful and became a currency between the hunters. But mostly the hides served as poker chips.
“Five card stud. That’s your game, right?”
Popo nodded. He dealt the first hand and held the cards up to his face, squinting to see them in the darkness. Loner left his cards on the rock, face down where Popo had dropped them.
“I’m betting blind. One piece. Your bet.”
“I’m telling Briar ‘bout you.”
Loner held his breath and shook his head. “What did you say?”
“I
said I’m telling Briar what you gonna do.”
Loner felt a bead of sweat break on his forehead. He chuckled and put his palms down on the rock, leaning in close enough to smell the onions on Popo’s breath. “And that would be what?”
“Run. Best case. But I reckon you’d kill ’em, if ya had to.”
Loner folded his arms. The old man had completely lost his mind. Or…
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t be coy. I been around a long time. Most hunters think me an old, blind drunk. That I am. But I also see more than y’all realize. I seen the way you look at Briar. I feel the hatred in you, son. You either want this clan or you want to leave it. Either way, Briar gotta know. He’s the leader.”
“Are you going to bet or not?”
“I think you’re just like your name. Don’t think it’d come to killin’ but it could. This is a small clan, Loner. We can’t have no bows going rogue.”
Loner slid his right hand down to his hip until he could feel the handle of his axe. He flicked the rawhide tie to the side and felt the full weight of the weapon tightening the muscles on his arm. Popo stared at him over the top of his cards.
“There’s nothing in the clan that binds us. Any of us are free to go whenever we want.”
“Is that what you keep telling yourself? You think Briar will just let you walk? We only got a handful of bows. We can’t make it if men decide to up and leave whenever the hell they want.”
“What do you want from me?” Loner leaned in closer, his fingers now gripping the axe handle like a poisonous snake. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Our word. Our loyalty. Tis all that matters in this world, anymore. Nothing else left to bond one to another ‘cept parent to child. And seein’ that we ain’t had many ladies in this clan, our word is it. Our promises to each other are our children, and we gotta raise them right. Teach ’em to do good.”
“You’re a senile, old man. Nobody in this clan would miss you. Not even Briar.”
Popo smiled and shook his head. He turned his cards over on the rock. “I fold.”
The axe came up so fast that Popo did not even have time to blink. Loner followed through, knocking the old man to the ground. The blunt edge of the blade had skimmed off Popo’s skull instead of breaking it, leaving him writhing on the ground but conscious. Loner took a step and stood over him.
“You couldn’t shut up and play cards, could you? You had to go threatening me. What did you think I was going to do?”
Popo moaned. His left leg was still but his right kicked through the dirt and leaves. Loner leaned in and saw a bulging lump on the man’s right temple.
“Good. I was afraid I’d hit you too hard and then I’d be left explaining blood.”
Loner took three steps into the forest. He stood with a hand over his eyes, letting them adjust to the finer shades of blackness beneath the trees. “There it is. I knew we weren’t far from the breach.”
He set his axe on the rock and reached down to grab Popo by the ankles. A stench of urine and dried feces infiltrated his nostrils as the man’s cape flipped up.
“Don’t.”
Loner ignored the plea, dragging Popo through the leaves and over small twigs. He looked around, hoping Briar or the others wouldn’t assume it was the wolves—or the Cygoa. Loner paused and listened. He heard nothing and so continued pulling Popo toward the breach. Loner came to the edge and spun the man around so that his head hung over the precipice.
“I don’t know how far it goes. Hopefully it’s a good ways down so you die when you hit the bottom.”
“I won’t tell.” Popo’s words came over his sobs but the consonants slurred like melted wax. The bump on his head had grown, and even in the dim light Loner could see the blood pooling beneath the skin.
“Nope. You definitely won’t.”
Loner pushed Popo’s shoulders, sending him over the edge. He heard a whimper, followed by the sounds of the old man’s body crashing through limbs, and then the silence returned. He peered over the edge but saw nothing but the open black maw staring back at him.
He gathered the playing cards in one hand, walked to the breach, and tossed them in as well.
“I’m done playing games.”
Loner walked back toward camp and now he could see the dawn’s light breaking on the horizon. Two other pairs had already arrived and they nodded at him. Briar came out from behind a tree, hitching up his pants and walking toward Loner.
“Where’s Popo?”
“Taking a shit. He said he’ll be back soon.”
“I hope so. I expect Jonah at any time.”
Loner nodded, shoving a handful of dried deer hide pieces into his pack.
Chapter 39
Seren made her way back down the stairs and out onto the street. Sorcha seemed keen to get back out into the air again, and Seren guessed there was something about the high-rise building that made the wolf uneasy. It was unusual to see such a tall building still standing, she had to admit, but she hadn’t sensed anything odd about the place. But it still gave her the shudders.
They followed the road heading north, making their way around the rusted remains of old vehicles, passing apartment buildings and burned-out shops. Sometimes she stopped and searched the fronts of old shops that looked promising, but she found nothing of interest, let alone any food or tools, and in the end Seren gave up checking.
Even though all evidence around her suggested the place had not been visited in many years, it had clearly been looted bare. Another quarter of a mile along the street and the buildings ended abruptly, leaving the road to wind its way downslope into the forest. She stood on the corner of the last building for a minute, looking back at the ruined city and wondering what secrets were hidden away within it, undiscovered, and pondered whether she really wanted to leave quite so soon. But then she thought of the Elk, of Sasha, Keana, Gideon and Jonah, and the rest of the clan. If she didn’t leave soon she may miss them on the road. She couldn’t let them walk to Wytheville without warning.
Urged onward by the overwhelming need to be with the Elk and her friends once more, she started forward, down the hill toward the tree line.
“Let’s go, then.”
Sorcha trotted by her side, always looking for something new to investigate. The wolf was a copy of her in a furry body.
“You’re leaving so soon?” a voice said from behind her.
It startled them both, and they spun round, Sorcha dropping into a low crouch and scanning the buildings ahead, Seren drawing her bow and notching an arrow quicker than she had ever done before, ready to fire.
But the arrow didn’t leave the bow. There was no one there.
Seren lowered the weapon, frowning. Sorcha growled but also looked puzzled.
There was no movement. No sounds. Nothing. There were no open doorways nearby, no smashed windows with darkness behind them for someone to hide in, and the trees were fifty yards behind her down the hill. The sound hadn’t come from that direction, she was sure. It came from the ruins.
“Don’t worry,” said the voice as Seren was beginning to wonder if she had imagined it. “I’m not really where you are.” The voice was not that of a young man, Seren thought. It had a harsh edge to it that spoke of years. An old man’s voice.
“I apologize for startling you. And, I see, confusing you also. You have no need to worry, we won’t hurt you.”
We, thought Seren. Did that that mean a few or many? Was this the voice attached to the footsteps she had heard in the darkness, in the building where she had fallen and hurt her ankle?
“We don’t get many visitors out here.” The voice stopped. “You need to look up at the side of the building. A gray box with wires attached to it and a speaker…a circular cone.”
Sarah followed the instructions, her gaze wandering up the side of the building to the second floor, and the window. Nothing. What was she looking for? A box? There! She spotted it. A strange, gray device was attached to
the side of the building, and a black line of cable poked out of the back and wound its way along the wall, tracing a line back up the street all the way to the first junction. One part of the device had a conical shape that pointed outward, and the other half was elongated, a box pointing down onto the street, the front covered with a tiny face of dark glass or plastic. It was difficult to tell.
“Yes, that’s it,” said the voice. “It’s a loudspeaker you’re hearing.”
Sarah frowned and then realized that the sound was coming from the gadget.
What on Earth was this? Was there somebody in the building behind it? But no, she could see through the window. The room was empty.
“This must be confusing for you, but there’s really no need to be afraid of us. I am streets away from your location. The device you are looking at allows me to see and speak far away. Almost anywhere in the city, really.”
“Can you hear me?” Seren asked, feeling foolish at speaking to an object rather than a person.
“Ah, I can see you’re trying to answer me. It doesn’t really work that way, but if you’re facing the camera I can lip-read to some extent, but we can’t hear.”
Camera, thought Seren. A strange word that she had never heard. She looked up at the conical device and then moved round to face the front of the box next to it. She could see the faded letters MAINLINE CCTV printed on the side in large letters. It meant nothing to her. Reading had never been her greatest skill, with not many in the clan able to teach about the written word.
“Like this?” she called, still feeling a little foolish.
“Yes, that’s it. I can see your lips move. Now, like I said, we don’t get many visitors. Some that have passed through here, over the years, but we have left them alone. They could have been a threat to us. You are the first to come this way in over five years, and, well, we have spoken among ourselves as we watched your progress through our city, and we wondered if you’d like to meet us? We’d certainly love to meet you. It’s been a long time since we spoke to someone new.”
