TRIVEN HAD SAID nothing about my outburst and Maddox seemed to find it more amusing than threatening. Still, Brant had shut his mouth and fell in line like a good little soldier. But one of us always had an eye on him just in case.
Moving had given me a sense of accomplishment but now standing in wait as a ten-year-old child stole clothing for us made my whole body ache with anxiety. We were stopped at the dead end of a large tunnel. A ladder with a blue wave symbol painted on its side was the only way of escape. I had had to watch Mouse disappear up the ladder with nothing more on her than the knife I had hidden in her boot. I had tried to insist on coming with her but she had relentlessly refused me, signing over and over again, danger. I had left her with a final warning that if she wasn’t back within fifteen minutes I was coming after her guns blazing. To make my attitude worse, as Mouse disappeared, Brant had muttered something about “That’s the last we’ll ever see of her.”
I seriously thought about breaking his nose.
At eight minutes and forty-three seconds Mouse’s feet reappeared on the ladder rungs. She was grinning, clearly proud of herself. She had managed to procure a linen bag nearly as big as herself and in it were differing colors of uniforms for each of us.
Triven gathered her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. “Good job kiddo. You might have just saved us all.”
Brant rolled his eyes, but when he caught the expression on my face he quickly grabbed his blue workman uniform and retreated further down the tunnel to change. The clothing was all loosely sewn, allowing us to keep our fatigues on under them. Triven, Mouse and I were all dressed alike in white linen civilian uniforms. The flowy garbs were identical with no distinction between the male and female, except for the cut in the tunic. Triven’s tunic was broader in the shoulders whereas mine was cut wide below the waist allowing for the hips I didn’t have. The pants were a simple plain white linen that came down to our toes with a drawstring waist. I had to roll the tops of mine twice to accommodate my shorter legs. The tunics were equally loose, falling just past our knees, giving away little of a person’s shape, which in our case was great for concealing weapons. In our favor there were also deep hoods that once pulled up concealed our faces nicely. Maddox and Brant, however, were less lucky.
The workmen’s uniforms were more like jumpsuits. Like ours they were loose-fitting, but they were one solid piece with a single zipper up the front. Good for concealing weapons, bad for retrieving them. They were also sans hoods, leaving their faces exposed. Brant’s uniform was a dark blue, which Arstid had informed us, was water maintenance. Maddox wore one of dark green, indicating a yard and garden worker. Mouse pointed to Brant’s long hair and mimed tucking it into his collar. Mumbling something unintelligible he followed the instructions. Triven tossed the now empty bag at Brant.
“You can hide your packs in this. Plus it wouldn’t hurt to put in a few weapons that you might need as a last resort.” He turned back to us and laid the map in front of Mouse. “How far do we need to go?”
She squinted at the map and pointed to a large building on the far northwest corner. The building was significantly larger than the others around it. I remembered Arstid marking it as a government building of sorts.
“Where are we now?” I traced the city lines, mapping out all direct accesses.
Mouse poured over the map, but looked confused. We had worried that the city might have changed over the years and from the look on Mouse’s face it had. Eventually, she shrugged and circled a general vicinity with her finger. Rocking back on my heels I let out a shallow breath. If she was right, we were a few hours walk from the destination. We would be cutting it close with the curfew. If we could run it, the timing wouldn’t be an issue, but we had to blend in, so sprinting through the city was not an option. I glanced up to find Triven’s eyes on me. I could see the same thoughts running through his mind as well. After I had committed our general route to memory, Triven folded the map and slipped it into his breast pocket.
We ascended the ladder in silence, Mouse leading the way. At the top was a metal door that she easily pushed aside and scrambled out. As I emerged from the hole, I understood why Mouse had picked this specific hatch over the others we had passed and how she had acquired the uniforms so quickly. The access panel we had just crawled out of ended in some kind of laundry depository. The air smelled faintly of bleach and cleaning chemicals and was sticky with moisture. Piled in neat little groupings in front of their coordinating colored bay doors, were stacks of clean uniforms. There were a few windows, but they were all high up on the walls and clouded over with years of dust and steam. A dim glow was the only thing visible through them. Voices could be heard coming from the front of the building. Mouse pointed towards the blue set of bay doors and we moved out.
Triven glided through the warehouse silently. Watching him move was mesmerizing. The few times we had run rooftops together, he had let me take lead. But now, following behind him, I was amazed by his sense of body. He moved with a grace I wasn’t sure I could ever possess. I shook the thought from my mind as he reached the metal door. To our shock there weren’t locks on any of the doors, it was as if security wasn’t an issue here, although clothing here obviously wasn’t the commodity it was in Tartarus. Lifting in unison, Triven and I pushed the door up just high enough for us to slip under. A bright light poured in from the outside. Every muscle in my body tensed as I waited for an alarm to rise or the metal door to squeak in protest, but nothing happened.
Triven pointed to us in turn. “Maddox, you will take lead. After a thirty-second count Bowen will follow—” Guess his name wasn’t Brant after all. “The three of us will be behind you in another thirty. Take your cues from the people around you. It is imperative that we blend in. Eyes open and stay sharp. If you can get a count on soldiers and weapons even better.”
He paused.
“If something happens, if someone approaches you, stay calm. The main goal is to get out alive. If we get separated keep moving north by northwest.”
With a nod Maddox dropped and rolled through the gap disappearing from sight. We held for thirty count, which I spent glaring a warning at Brant— I was just going to call him that anyway. When he disappeared Triven took my hand squeezing it tightly.
I squeezed back.
On thirty I moved first. Dropping low, I rolled over the threshold and slumped silently to the ground. The instant my feet hit, I recoiled covering my eyes. I could hear the noises of the street nearby, but the blinding light was so painful I knew we must be under attack. Hastily, I pulled the gun from my belt and aimed into the unseen. What the hell had we just walked into?
I barely heard the feet hit the ground next to me, but I recognized Triven’s hands as they wrapped over mine. They forced my hands down concealing the gun as he whispered in my ear.
“It’s okay, Prea. It’s just the sun, give your eyes a moment to adjust.”
The sun? But it was too bright. Even as the thought crossed my mind, the alley we stood in came into better view. I could see outlines, then the building’s bricks, then Triven’s face next to mine. Mouse was protectively hidden behind his back. My finger came off the trigger instantly. The tension left both their bodies as mine relaxed.
The sun.
I glanced up at the sky shielding my eyes with my hand. The glowing orb was set in a crystal blue sky. I had a flash of memory like this. Not anything of importance, just my fingers outlined in the bright light. After living the last six years practically in darkness, the sun seemed foreign. The few rare glimpses I had caught in Tartarus, the sun was always tainted with sickly pollution, always a muted green. But this bright yellow burst of light was magnificent. My skin even felt the warmth coming from it. How strange.
“Sorry.” I muttered in embarrassment. I should have known that it was the sun. I should have expected it. Holstering my weapon, I straightened from my crouch and turned toward the mouth of the alley. As bright as I had first perceived it to be, w
e were actually in the shadow of the buildings. On the street, people in uniforms similar to ours were moving by slowly. Occasionally a strange vehicle would whirr past, stirring up the air around us. No one even glanced our way. In the distance I could just make out Brant’s blue-cladded back.
Pulling our hoods up, the three of us moved towards the mouth of the alley. As we neared the opening Mouse slipped her hands into ours. If anyone were to glance at us, we would look like a happy family out for a stroll. Stepping out just as a group of civilians passed, we merged into the crowds unnoticed. My instincts told me to keep my eyes down, not to make eye contact, but remembering what Triven said about taking their lead made me think better of it. Strangely, as every person passed one another they would glance briefly into each other’s eyes and incline their heads politely. In less than thirty yards I had nodded at about twenty people. If the streets were teaming, this social custom would be ludicrous. When we finally came to a stretch with fewer pedestrians I got a better look at the city.
The buildings were all painted varying tones of beige and white. Everything was a soft muted tone that should have pleased the eyes, but to me they only seemed to reflect the blinding sun more. I focused hard on not blinking too much, but my eyes had begun to water slightly. Up ahead I could see Maddox turn a corner. Then Brant. At our set pace, we would be less than a minute behind them.
The people here looked equally as simple as the buildings. Those who had their heads exposed wore modest hair. There were absolutely no visible tattoos or piercings to be seen. In fact, there was very little to tell them apart from one another. I was so used to seeing the defining features of the Tribes, that here it seemed as if everyone had no identity at all. Every passing face just blurred into the next one. The only thing defining a person was the color of the uniform they wore. To my dismay, we passed every colored uniform except one. In the array of muted tones, we never passed a single silver one. Silver was the color of their guard, of their trained army men. I had expected the streets to be teaming with guards, seeing as how our arrival had not been so quiet. But there was not a single armed guard in sight. Their lack of presence alarmed me just as much as it comforted me. If they weren’t here, then where were they?
We turned another corner and both Maddox and Brant came back into view. As much as I disliked both of them, I felt a sense of ease seeing familiar figures again.
It was painful moving so slowly, almost as if each second ticking by brought the knife hanging over our heads closer. Mouse’s hand grew clammy in mine, but neither of us were bold enough to let go and wipe away the sweat. Our progression became like a choreographed dance.
Step, step, nod. Step, step, scan. Step, step, nod. Step, step, scan.
These regulated movements repeated themselves over and over again, until I was barely aware I was doing it. We had gone twenty-three blocks and the sun was starting to ride low on the horizon. At this rate we were not going to make it before the citywide curfew, but if we moved any faster we would stand out in the dwindling crowd. And if we weren’t undercover by curfew, then we were sure as dead. Plans started formulating in my head, but they were quickly interrupted. As we turned the next corner, my knees locked.
Ahead I could see Maddox’s green suit slowing as he neared the mouth of an alley. Twenty yards behind him, Brant stood frozen as two men in silver uniforms hailed him. We couldn’t hear their conversation, but as they grew closer Brant moved his hand to his pocket. Unbeknownst to the guards, the bottom of the pocket had been cut and his hand was resting on the gun attached to his thigh. The guards’ weapons were still slung casually over their shoulders. Clearly whatever they wanted, they did not perceive him as a threat. But it was clear even from a distance the feeling was not mutual. Brant’s hand twitched. My free hand moved to my gun as well.
“Be calm.” I heard Triven mutter under his breath.
I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or warning Brant. Mouse’s hand tightened in mine as the guards drew even with him. Several words were exchanged and the three of us stopped breathing. Even Maddox had stopped with his back still to us. Then without a warning the two guards nodded and began to walk away. My body went slack as relief filled the air, Mouse’s tiny hand loosening. We were okay. They were walking away. Less than five feet away, one guard turned to glance back and then Brant’s gun went off.
New World Rising Page 38
