TWO HOURS LATER we were in motion again. As a precaution I packed up all of our things. Triven wanted to spend another night in the clock tower, but every particle of my being told me to move on. Too many years on the run had perhaps skewed my judgment on safety, but then again, it had also kept me alive.
The building was less than a mile from our hiding place and we made good time. Only once did we have to hide in the shadows as a group of Wraiths passed below us. I could hear the rattling of the human bones they wore around their necks as grotesque trophies before we saw them. Based on their formation, they were hunting someone. I hoped it was not one of our own. When they passed we moved on.
I knew the building Xavier spoke of. It was in the middle of an old warehouse district by the decaying canal. The entire area reeked of sewage. Eventually we had to pause to drape cloths over our noses and mouths as the smell became too overpowering. To most people the building looked just like the other dilapidated buildings in the area, but to me it was clearly a hideout. Unlike the surrounding buildings, all the windows and doors had been sealed off. They were blocked with graffitied boards, fallen rubble, or wrought iron bars. What looked like clusters of trash were actually well-placed barricades. After two laps around the building we realized the only way in were the double doors at the back of the alley. We were going to have to enter on street level. This meant exposure.
I hated exposure.
Leaving our bags concealed in an air duct and heavily laden with weapons, we began to climb down toward the streets. As our feet touched the pavement, a pack of wild dogs howled in the distance. A shiver of fear ran down my spine and we hastened our steps. The door was hidden in the shadows, barely visible from ground level. Sliding behind the dumpster, Triven followed my lead. There were no bolts on the doors, no chains to keep the unwanted out. Only the Ravagers would be so intentionally careless.
Mirroring my movements, Triven pressed his ear to the door. Our eyes locked as we listened for something, anything. His hazel eyes were clear windows to his thoughts. Despite his calm pretense, worry and fear still swam in their depths. I wondered if he saw the same in my own. We waited nearly a minute, unmoving and barely breathing, but no sounds came from inside.
With a hesitant nod, I moved to open the doors. But as my hand reached for the handles, Triven’s fingers wrapped around my wrist holding me back. I snapped to his face to question him, but my words caught in my throat. His worried eyes had steeled. He firmly shook his head and pulled me behind him. I knew what he was saying. This wasn’t about being chivalrous or his pride. He was telling me I was more important, that my life was worth more than his. Pain rose in my chest as he pulled back the door and entered first.
He had it wrong. He was the good one, the better of the two of us. I was too damaged, but Triven still had hope. Anger rose within me. How dare he choose me over himself. You had to look out for number one first if you wanted to survive here. And I needed him alive. Mouse needed someone better than me. She needed him. She deserved him.
As Triven moved into the shadows beyond the door, I pulled my gun and turned, scanning the alley again. If he was going to insist on playing the fool then the least I could do was watch his back. I backed through the doorway behind him keeping my eyes alert for any movement. I shifted with Triven in a backwards dance. As he moved to close the door, I scanned the vast darkness in the warehouse. When the door closed behind me, it took everything I had not to scream. I swallowed back the rising panic. Despite my restraint, I jumped back into Triven’s chest when a light came on. It wasn’t bright but it was enough to see. My eyes flew around the room looking not for the source but for who turned it on.
“It’s triggered by the doors.” Triven whispered. I turned as he thumbed a latch by the door causing the lights to flicker. “When the door opens the lights go out.”
“That seems unusually smart for a Ravager.” I muttered stepping further inside and pulling the cloth from my mouth. The stench from outside hadn’t penetrated the walls.
We were unquestionably alone. The huge room was barren, stripped down to the shell and structure. The floors were solid concrete with a few drainage grates. Conspicuous rust colored spatters flecked the grey surface. The walls were made of smooth cinderblock and the ceiling was nearly forty feet up. Even I would have a hard time getting up to the few exposed beams above us. There was no furniture, no racking and no chance of concealment.
Triven’s forehead was pinched as he made the same assessment. There was no place to hide and only one way out. This place was a death trap and we both knew it. Raising our guns, we both began to move back towards the door.
We were less than ten feet from the door when my skin began to crawl. Triven stiffened by my side.
We had both heard it.
The distinct sound of gravel crunching beneath shoes. As the foot falls got louder there were muffled voices that accompanied them. The hair rose on the back of my neck. I could hear the clinking of metal piercings, the squeal of leather rubbing on leather. Fear and adrenaline began to pulse through my veins. They were Ravagers. But the part that worried me was that they were speaking in hushed tones. Never in my life had I ever heard a Ravager advance quietly.
They would open that door in mere seconds and we were trapped.
New World Rising Page 27
