by Jay Posey
Finally, Wick moved forward and disappeared around a corner, but Gamble turned to face them and held up a hand, signaling for them to wait. She seemed to be listening intently for something. After another minute or two, she nodded.
“Alright, check,” she whispered. “Wren first.”
Wren didn’t like the sound of that. Gamble pointed at him, and then motioned for him to join her. He walked to her bent double, and his legs were all tingly from the long wait. When he got to her, she put a hand on his shoulder and her lips right next to his ear.
“We’re going to cross one at a time,” Gamble whispered. “Wick’s waiting around the corner. I want you to go first, OK?”
“OK.”
“Here, look.” She leaned Wren out a little so he could see around the corner. They were in a small T-intersection, and beyond it there was a wide stretch of open ground ending at the wall. Almost there. Gamble let him stand up straight again and then said, “Just run straight across. Wick’s waiting right on the other side, OK?”
“OK. You want me to run?” he asked.
“Yep, the quicker the better.”
Wren nodded.
“OK, Wick,” she whispered, “Wren’s coming across. Let me know when it’s safe.”
She smiled at him while they waited, but Wren wondered what she meant by when it’s safe. Did that mean it wasn’t safe now? Or were they just double-checking to make sure it was clear? He was still thinking that when she said, “OK, go, Wren!”
And the next thing he knew he was running, running out of the alley, and running across that wide stretch, and once he was in the open, it seemed a whole lot wider than it had before. And he knew he should just look straight ahead, but Wren couldn’t help it. He glanced to the side, just for a second.
Just for a second.
Maybe there was a crack in the concrete, or maybe the surface wasn’t as level as it looked. Maybe he was just too tired. Wren hardly had time to notice he had tripped before he felt his palms skid and his chin slam into the ground. The impact left him stunned and disoriented. There was a funny taste in his mouth, and Wren’s hands felt like he was holding fire. Everything was completely dark. Why couldn’t he see? And there was a funny drumming in his ears. It took him a few seconds before he realized what it was.
Footsteps.
Someone was running towards him. Wren was just lifting his head when he felt hands grabbing at his coat. Someone was picking him up. Running with him. He almost called out, but then he could see again, and Wren realized that his coat had gotten twisted and he’d been looking into his hood. And then they were at the base of the wall, and he was on his feet and someone was in front of him.
“Are you OK?” he whispered. “Wren, are you OK?”
It was Wick. Wick had come to get him.
Wren nodded. “I fell,” he said.
Wick smiled. “I saw.”
“I’m sorry, Wick.”
“Yeah, he’s fine,” Wick said, and then, “It’s OK, buddy. No harm done. Except maybe your chin there.” Wren touched his chin and it stung. His fingers came away wet.
Wick said, “We’ll get Mouse to take a look at you when we see him. You still got your teeth?”
“I think so.” Wren checked the inside of his mouth with his tongue and found a place that felt funny inside his cheek, like there was a piece of food stuck there that wouldn’t come off. “I think I bit my cheek.”
“Yeah, that was a good tumble. When we get where we’re going, maybe I’ll teach you how to roll, huh?” Wick smiled again and clapped Wren on the shoulder once. “Hang tight while we get the others across.”
Wick gently moved Wren closer to the wall, and Wren knelt down again, feeling stupid. He watched silently while Painter came across, and then Cass, and finally Gamble.
“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Cass asked.
He just nodded because he didn’t want to talk about it, even though his chin really hurt and the place in his cheek felt gross.
“Wick, go,” Gamble said, and then mercifully they were off again and no one had a chance to talk about the fall anymore. They moved along the wall and found a set of stairs that climbed in a switchback. Wren expected that they’d have to take them slowly, but Wick actually accelerated as they went up, and when they reached the top, Wren understood. Sky was already there waiting for them.
“Finn?” Gamble asked, and Sky just pointed over the wall. “Alright, good. Wren, come on, you’re up.”
Wren didn’t know what that meant, but he stepped over to Sky like he was instructed. Sky had on some kind of harness that Wren hadn’t seen before, and there was a loose loop of strap hanging off the front.
“Legs through here,” Sky said as he crouched down. The next thing Wren knew, a couple of pairs of hands were helping him get his legs in the right place, and then Sky stood up, and Wren went with him. “Hold on tight, Mister Governor,” Sky said. “And you might not want to look down.”
Sky sat back on the parapet and swiveled around. Wren had figured out what was going to happen, but he was still trying to work out exactly how – when Sky lurched, and it felt like the world turned upside down, and Wren shut his eyes and forgot everything but hanging on. There was a whizzing sound that started high and then got lower, and it felt like they were falling in slow motion. And then there were hands grabbing at him again, and Sky chuckled and said, “You can open your eyes now, sir.” Finn was there, and they were on the ground again, but outside the wall.
It took a few moments to get Wren unhooked from Sky. Once Wren was clear, Sky went back over and put a foot on the wall, and then all of a sudden went floating right back up, kicking off and bounding his way to the top. Wren watched him the whole way up, and he finally saw the thin cable that was connected somewhere high above.
“Oooh, what happened to your chin?” Finn said. “You bang it coming down?”
Wren shook his head. “I fell. Before.”
Finn nodded. “We’ll get Mouse to take a look at it.”
Wren couldn’t help smiling at hearing it again. “Wick said that too.”
“Yeah, well… he manages to get things right every once in a while.”
The whizzing sound started again, and Wren looked up. The others came down in a different arrangement, clinging to Sky’s back with their legs around his waist and their arms hooked around his chest. It didn’t look comfortable for anybody, but nobody said anything. Wren figured they were all just glad to reach the bottom.
Gamble came last, and once everyone was down, Sky had them move away from the wall. When they were clear, he fiddled with some kind of device near his waist where the cable was attached, and the line went slack and fell. The device whirred and the cable retracted into it. Wren didn’t get to see exactly how it all worked, because Wick had already started moving out, and Mama had pulled Wren along to keep pace.
The group formed up with Wick leading the way; and Finn and Gamble slightly ahead and to either side of Cass, Painter, and Wren. Sky caught up and trailed a little behind, forming the final point in a protective diamond around them. It was a few moments before it really sunk in for Wren.
He’d been so intent on the danger they faced in escaping Morningside, he’d actually felt relief once they’d touched down outside the wall. For a brief time, he had forgotten what lay ahead. But not for long. As they moved together into the dead cityscape, and the great wall of Morningside faded behind them, it dawned on Wren that they were leaving the realm of men – and walking straight into the arms of the Weir.
FOURTEEN
People had lived here once, Cass knew, here in the shadow of the wall, and not all that long ago. Those that the citizens of Morningside called outsiders. Exiles from Underdown’s city, still living under his “protection”. As they moved through the now-empty ruins, Cass could still see traces of it; even though most of the personal belongings had been stripped out, the shells of buildings that had housed life showed signs of intentional design and structure �
� of maintenance. The further they got from the city, though, the fewer of those shelters she saw.
For the first mile or so, Wick kept them moving at a cautious but steady pace. The four bodyguards had their weapons out, held low but ready to bring to action in an instant. Cass had rarely seen the team running this heavy. Sky, of course, had his long rifle, and Gamble had her jittergun in a holster strapped to her thigh, but she was also carrying a larger weapon on a sling across her chest. Something about halfway between a pistol and rifle. Cass had never seen it before, but there wasn’t much doubt about its purpose. Both Wick and Finn had short-barreled rifles hanging on slings in front of them.
Whether out of fear or just good instincts, no one spoke while they walked. Every so often a Weir would call in the distance with an unearthly cry, but their cries were scattered and sporadic. Thankfully, none ever actually came within view. It’d been so long since Cass had been outside when the Weir were abroad. Even surrounded by a team she trusted completely, the farther they got from the city, the more vulnerable she felt.
She was just starting to wonder when and where they were going to regroup with Able and the others when Gamble quietly called for them to halt and to gather up around her. They crowded in close, but Wick, Finn, and Sky kept their backs to the rest of them, maintaining constant security intently.
“We’re getting into the outer limits now,” Gamble whispered. “The Weir don’t typically show up in numbers this close to the city, but that’s going to change in the next couple of miles.”
“Just tell us what you need us to do,” Cass said.
“I need you to tell me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Until tonight, none of us had ever been outside the wall with an Awakened before. And definitely not this far out. We need to know what to expect. Do they notice you? Can they track you? Are you going to draw their attention, or will they ignore you?”
Cass honestly had no idea. She hadn’t often been outside the walls since she’d been Awakened, and until the night they attacked the gate she’d never confronted them as one.
“It d-d-d, it depends,” Painter whispered.
“On what?” Gamble asked.
Painter shrugged. “Sometimes I’d go out. I tried to be careful, but s-s-somet-t-times… one f-f-followed me once, for a little while.” He paused and looked away from the group. “And once I guh-got attacked. I didn’t go b… back out after.”
“Doesn’t sound like you draw them any special way, though?”
Painter shrugged again.
Gamble’s eyes narrowed and her mouth made an almost perfectly flat line. “Alright. We’ll just have to take it slow. We don’t want to kill any if we don’t have to, that usually brings trouble. But if it comes to that, you just stay next to me, do what I tell you, and let us do the work.”
“You don’t have to protect me,” Cass said. “I can fight.”
“I know you can, but with all due respect, we’ve got a way we operate. Best if we don’t throw something unpredictable in that mix.”
Cass hated the idea of being treated like some kind of helpless citizen. But Gamble was right. Cass wasn’t one of them. What she thought was helping might actually throw them off. This was no time or place to let pride get in the way.
“We need to run as low profile as possible,” Gamble continued. “No pimming, no active broadcast, keep everything locked down while we’re out here.”
“What about your secure channel?” Wren asked. Gamble looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Is that OK?”
“It’s real low frequency so we can use it, but we try to keep it limited.”
“That’s why it sounds funny,” Wren said.
“Finn can tell you all about it later,” Gamble said with a quick nod and a wink. Her way of gently but clearly ending any further discussion. “We’ve still got a couple of hours until sunrise, but we need to put some distance between us and the city. I’m not trying to scare you, but I want you to understand there’s some danger out there. We’re going to do everything we can to keep us all out of trouble. But there’s a whole lot of trouble between us and our destination. It’ll be helpful if you guys keep your eyes and ears open too. Stay focused, stay with us. Questions?”
Cass looked at Wren and Painter, who both shook their heads.
“We’re good to go,” Cass said. Gamble nodded.
“Wick,” she said. “You got an ETA on the others?”
“Should’ve been here before us.”
“That’s what I thought. Finn, any word?”
“Negative. Want me to ping him?”
“I’ll do it… Swoop, Gamble. What’s your location?” She waited several seconds. “Swoop, this is Gamble.” Another long pause. In the distance, a Weir gave a call. A few seconds later, another answered. Gamble and Finn traded looks.
“Swoop?” she asked. After a moment, Gamble’s expression changed slightly, but Cass couldn’t read it. “You guys need support? One for yes, two for no.”
“What’s going on?” Cass asked Sky.
He glanced back over his shoulder. “He’s clicking at us. Something’s close enough to him he doesn’t want to risk talking.”
“Weir?”
“Hope so. Otherwise they’re not out of the city yet.”
“Alright, check,” Gamble said. “We’re going to move to alternate. Can you make the alternate…? Check. See you there.”
Gamble adjusted the shoulder straps on the oversized pack she was carrying. “We’re going to have to link up with them at the alternate. I’m guessing we’ve got some Weir wandering around between us and them… Wick?” She nodded his direction.
“Yep.”
They set out again, the pace slightly faster than the one they’d maintained earlier. As they proceeded, Cass noticed a steady degradation of their surroundings. More collapsed buildings, more exposed beams and rods, more brokenness. Soon it was clear they were completely beyond the borders of any power Morningside had ever projected.
They’d walked another twenty minutes or so before they saw the first Weir. Finn spotted it, off to their left. He made a soft hissing sound, shouldered his weapon, and then extended it slightly to point at the Weir. The group stopped. Cass followed his line and caught a glimpse of the Weir just as it was passing behind the shell of a two-story building between them. She felt Wren press against her leg, and she instinctively dropped her arm around his shoulders.
About thirty seconds later, the Weir emerged from behind the building. It was a fair distance from them, maybe fifty or sixty yards away. Finn and Sky both tracked it as it prowled around the abandoned structure, crouched low enough that it sometimes placed its hands on the ground in an almost crawl. It stopped every so often, swiveling its head slowly from side to side, almost as a man would if listening for a particular sound, or trying to identify a peculiar scent. It sat back on its haunches and slowly started turning its glowing eyes in their direction.
Cass immediately averted her own eyes, realizing almost too late that if she could see it, it could most certainly see her. She heard it squawk once, a burst of static. A few moments later, it made the same noise again. The second time didn’t sound as full.
“Ace?” Sky whispered.
“Wait.”
Cass held herself as still as possible, eyes closed, feeling that even the natural sway of her body might be too much movement to be safe. The Weir squawked a third time, but it was distant. Cass realized she was holding her breath.
“Alright, let’s move,” Gamble whispered.
Cass opened her eyes to see Wick already pushing forward, instantly responsive to Gamble’s commands. As they moved, she glanced back in the Weir’s direction, but there was no sign of it. They marched on in silence, following closely the edges and contours of the broken buildings that surrounded them. Wick never let them stray far from cover, never committed them too fully to any one path or direction. The cries, croaks, and calls from the Weir grew more frequent. O
n more than one occasion Wick quickly redirected them down a side street or narrow alley, though his reasons weren’t always clear. Even so, no one questioned his decisions.
The wind picked up as they continued on, stirring up swirls and eddies of concrete dust. Had they not been keeping pace and loaded down with packs, the chill might have been cutting. Cass looked down at Wren, hoping to gauge his feelings, but his face was hidden in the deep hood of his coat. Painter lagged slightly behind them, his eyes downcast and his face grim. Cass hoped Wren was warm enough, but didn’t want to risk asking. He kept near her, steadily matching her pace without falter or complaint. These still, quiet hours of the night were her time, the time she felt most alive and aware. But she knew her son must have been fighting with every step just to keep his eyes open.
Watching him, it was hard to remember he was only eight. Though in another sense, it was equally hard to believe he was already eight. Still so small for his age, and yet in bearing years ahead. At times he was just her little boy; quick to call when frightened, eager to be held. But other times deeply brooding and withdrawn. Her son was fast becoming more and more of an enigma to her. And Cass couldn’t help but think of her other son, how he had changed, who he had become. Her mind revolted at the concept that Wren could ever be anything like Asher. Yet fear remained. If Wren started down that path, would she notice in time to try and stop him? Would she even be capable of stopping him?
A sudden motion from Wick snapped Cass back into the moment. He gestured for them to stop, and then waved them into a narrow alley they’d just passed. The team moved as if the whole thing had been planned.
Sky rolled in first, keeping to the right and covering the left with his weapon. He hesitated a second or two while Finn caught up, and Finn moved to the left wall, mirroring Sky’s movements, to cover the opposite side of the alley. Together they flowed down the narrow route and stopped just shy of where it intersected with another. Both went to a knee, weapons trained on the corners.
