I knew that wouldn’t matter, either.
I was already dead.
I had only to wait out the finale.
I lay there, fighting the exhaustion that penetrated my bones, my mind, my very soul. I told myself this had been Revik’s idea, that the plan had been his––that it wasn’t my fault.
None of it felt very convincing.
And anyway, in the end, the fault had been mine. At the decisive moment, it had been me to pull the trigger––or not pull the trigger, as the case may be.
I’d let him down.
I’d really let him down… all of them, really.
The humans too.
Maybe the humans more than anyone.
I OPENED MY eyes, gasping.
It hit me in shock, a shudder of fear––I’d been on the verge of falling asleep.
Well, passing out would probably be more accurate.
Remembering where I was, I forced myself up, bringing myself to a seated position on the sand in the ripped dress, wincing from the injury to my leg.
Looking down, I found myself thinking whoever shot me among Ute’s people, they’d gotten me in the opposite leg as the one Dragon branded.
I remembered Lily then––Revik. Clenching my jaw and closing my eyes, I forced myself all the way to my feet, gasping in pain.
Lily had to be the priority now. I had to get to her.
I had to detach her from my light, before she died with me.
I’d been thinking about that for what felt like hours now, ever since I saw those bombs streaking down in the sky, heading towards the Forbidden City.
It was the least I could do.
For Revik. For Lily herself.
I already had a plan of sorts. I would try to connect Lily’s light to that of my biological parents. Kali was an intermediary. That had to count for something. Anyway, I was pretty sure I could do it. If I needed to, maybe I could get Maygar involved, too––even Stanley, if I needed more intermediaries and their light.
I hoped like hell I wouldn’t need Feigran, much less Cass.
The thought of detaching from my daughter hurt somewhere deep in my light, but it had to be done. It had to be done, and doing it with Kali and Uye finally felt right.
Whatever my biological parents had done to me, they wouldn’t do it to Lily. I knew that, somehow. What happened to me was because I was the Bridge.
Even as an intermediary, Lily wouldn’t have to suffer the same fate.
Anyway, I knew Dalejem wouldn’t let them. Maygar wouldn’t let them, either.
I could trust the two of them, even if I still had too much pain around my parents to be able to trust them absolutely, or even see them clearly.
I barely made it to the river.
They’d chased me through gutted and burnt-out buildings once I hit the streets on the other side of the wall. I’d been forced to hide, then to backtrack, trying to lose them inside the grounds of what looked like an ancient palace by the lake north of the City’s wall.
Whatever the building had been, it was gutted in the wake of C2-77, covered in garbage and with Chinese graffiti all over the walls, like the rest of the buildings.
I crossed through the backyards of yet more opulent-looking houses by the lake until the lake itself started curving too far west, and I had to find my way back north.
They found me again when I reached another park on the north side of the lake. Gunfire erupted when I reached the lawn, and I had to try and lose them again in another set of buildings when I ran through alleys to correct my course back to due north.
By then, the drug had been slowing me down. A lot.
Enough that I’d started to get pretty damned worried.
In the end, I’d been forced to break from cover yet again, sprinting across an abandoned highway littered with broken-down cars to get to the edge of the canal.
That was when one of them shot me.
I got hit in the leg with a 9mm organic-tipped slug right as I leapt over the concrete barrier on the other side of the highway. It knocked me on my ass. I hit the dirt, hard, but adrenaline had me on my feet in seconds.
I jumped into the river.
Again, I don’t know why I’d been so determined to do it. Instinct, maybe.
Or maybe stupidity.
The river was swollen from heavy monsoon rains.
Jem and I had received local reports from some of the Chinese seers about dams giving way in areas outside the city, adding water to the already overtaxed waterways inside Beijing.
Most of those waterways had been expanded in the past forty or fifty years, from what Jem told me, often more for aesthetic than purely practical purposes when it came to the canals winding through the middle of Beijing itself. In a water-poor world, waterways had become a sign of prestige for the richest citizens of a lot of cities, not only Beijing.
It was strange to think how much the water situation had changed in just one short year.
Now it seemed to rain everywhere, all the time.
Water was still a problem, just in a totally different way.
Jem said many city waterways in China were modeled after the canals, waterfalls and streams inside the Forbidden City. It was an image the Communist Party leaders had been eager to emulate as they redesigned Beijing––not only because it projected success and status to the outside world, but because it served as an obvious, inescapable reminder of the close ties they had with their warrior caste of seers who protected the ancient City.
The relationship between the seers and humans of China had long ago attained a quasi-mythological status. That perception and relationship had been cultivated strongly on both ends: that of the holy warrior seers who protected their benevolent human patrons.
When I lived there, in the City, I grew to realize the symbolism surrounding that symbiotic relationship had elements of religious fervor around it.
That mythology got cynically wielded at times too, by both sides of the racial divide. They even used it against one another when it was politically expedient, as a part of the negotiating strategy in terms of roles and responsibilities of the different races and castes.
A hell of a lot of them bought into the myth, too… and not only among the humans.
Voi Pai believed it; I was sure of it.
I can’t say I ever fully understood all of the nuances there, in terms of how they’d blended seer Myth and the original religions and cultural histories of the Han Chinese, but the relationship didn’t feel wholly fabricated to me.
It was even kind of beautiful, in its way. It certainly beat the models of seer-human relations that grew up in most parts of the world.
It hadn’t fully sunk in for me yet that all of that was gone.
So was most of Beijing.
At the time I’d jumped into the river, I hadn’t known any of that, of course.
I hit the water, hard, and immediately got slammed into by the trunk of a tree.
Parts of houses crashed into one another in that same bloated stretch of river, along with signs, store-fronts, cars, metal poles.
For the first time, I’d been damned glad the electrical grid had already gone down.
Even so, as soon as I hit the cold, silt-filled water and got slammed between the ripped up wall of a food stand kiosk and that tree, I was pretty sure I’d just made a huge mistake.
Then bullets started whizzing by my head.
I’d been forced to duck down fast, taking a mouthful of air before using the debris to pull myself around the edges of the clapboard and metal kiosk and away from the river’s banks. I managed to crawl around the edges of another log before I got behind the metal roof of a different structure, what looked like another makeshift house or store.
Coming up for air with a gasp, I hid behind the thickest part of a tree trunk and a piece of corrugated metal roof, just in time to hear the ping and crack of more bullets embedding themselves into the wood and ricocheting off the corrugated metal next to my hands and head.<
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I barely had time to look up at where Ute and her Dreng soldiers fired down on me from above the water line.
I saw Ute there briefly, holding a rifle to her shoulder, her eye on the sights, her face twisted in a hate-filled scowl.
I saw a few others get closer to the water.
A handful even made feinting runs right up to the edge of the rushing current, as if on the verge of jumping in. I saw at least one who appeared to be looking more strategically at the moving debris, as if trying to decide if she should jump on one of the larger pieces, maybe hop from one to the other until she could reach me directly.
From what I could see, none of them did, though.
A few seconds later, I heard no gunshots at all.
I can’t say I was surprised––by either thing. But then, the water was moving really damned fast. Most of the debris at the edges of the canal was being ground up along the steep banks.
I was damned lucky I didn’t die right then and there.
Instead, I managed to get on top of someone’s car. I rode that for a good long stretch of cold as hell river, more or less in the middle and fastest part of the water.
I didn’t seen the bombs streak across the sky for what seemed like a really long time after.
By then, what had been the Nanchang River canals had turned into the Landmark River. The Landmark took me miles out of central Beijing before it dumped me into the much-wider Bahe.
I’d known from going over maps with Dalejem that the Bahe would eventually connect me to the Wenyu River, which was even bigger.
I hadn’t yet decided if that would be a good thing or not.
By then I’d been lying on my back on top of a partially-intact tile roof I’d managed to climb on top of when the car I’d been riding began to take on too much water and sink.
I’d been fighting to stay conscious as I tried to decide what to do.
I knew I had to be well outside the communications lock-down area of the Dreng by then. So yeah, I could have contacted Balidor––if I’d still had my headset––but of course I didn’t. I’d lost that along with my gun, probably right around the time I first smacked into that debris-filled water. Or maybe somewhere near the cement divider, when I got shot.
The gun bothered me less, since I’d already been out of bullets.
Regardless, I felt like I wasn’t in a great position to call for help. Apart from risking my life all over again by going into the Barrier and alerting the Dreng to where I was, I’d felt pretty much shit out of luck.
I needed to find a way back to shore.
As far as contacting Brooks, I only realized it was too late for that when I saw the first comet-like bullet of white streak across the sky.
Then I saw more of them.
I sat up on that half-submerged tile roof, watching them with my eyes, unable to believe what I was seeing at first.
It was all so silent and far away, drowned out by the sound of river around me, the heavy thuds and reports of debris cracking and breaking, smacking into one another above and below the waterline. The deafening rush of the river itself, the occasional shout from someone on the shore who saw me, even the occasional rock as someone tried to hit me as I passed, drowned out everything else.
The river was like a growling, angry animal, chewing up everything in its path.
But those bombs––they were quiet.
I stared up at them, charting their course with my eyes.
I already knew where they were going.
I also knew, although my mind tried to tell me my mental clock was wrong, that the rendezvous time for Revik at the airport wouldn’t have come yet.
I’d never arranged for the earlier pick up for him. I was supposed to get out long before he’d need it. Which meant Revik wouldn’t have gotten out at all.
He was still in Beijing.
Pain exploded over my light as the truth sank in.
I opened at once, even though I’d known it was already too late. I tried to find him through the bond. I screamed frantically through the bond, telling him to go back to that underground bunker, to get as many as he could and lock himself in and hide down there. I told him we’d get him out once the dust settled, that we’d find some way to get him out of there.
I told him I was sorry.
I told him I loved him. I begged him to find some way to stay alive.
I told him I needed him.
I told him a lot of things. I don’t think he heard any of it.
If he did, he never answered. I couldn’t feel him at all.
Then the first bombs hit and the skyline turned red, and, and––
––and yeah, at that point, it really was just way beyond too late.
Forcing the memory out of my light, I winced at a cut in the bottom of my foot as I walked up the dirty sand. I remembered slicing that on a metal container after I’d jumped off the tile roof. I’d been trying to get to land by then, but I didn’t manage it until after I’d already been pulled from the Bahe and into the much larger Wenyu River.
Only after that happened had I realized it would have been a lot better if I’d jumped off the roof well before I got to that wider waterway.
The Wenyu was swollen with monsoon rains from the north, and likely from those rumored dams having broken higher up in the hills. It crashed east and south towards the ocean like a slow-moving tsunami, filled with full-sized houses and even a few office buildings along with more cars and logs and roofs like the one I still clung to like a half-drowned rat.
I’d known it would be suicide to jump off while I was so far from shore.
I’d had no choice but to ride the current for longer, hope a better chance presented itself for me to get back to land.
It was another hour before that happened.
I’d been out of my mind by then, which paradoxically, made me strangely calm.
Revik was dead. I had to get to Lily.
It was as simple as that.
I had to get to Lily, save our daughter.
When I finally jumped off that roof, I’d only been about twenty feet from shore. It felt a lot longer than that, of course, but I could see more tributaries meeting the river up ahead, more water feeding into the already swollen river, and some part of my light told me it was time to go.
So I jumped.
And yeah, I made it, but I got pretty banged up before I did.
Limping down the stretch of coarse sand, I winced at each step on the cut foot, trying to decide what to do. I’d opened my light while I’d been on that river and no one had answered. I knew there might still be Dreng soldiers around, though.
Some of them would have gotten out, especially if they’d been behind the bombing in the first place.
Closing my eyes, I fought the images that wanted to rise out of my light.
I fought to think.
Balidor. Balidor probably thought I was dead.
How would I get a message to him? They’d be on full lock-down if they’d survived this. That, or they’d be on their way to Dalian by now, given how late it was.
Jem.
Fighting the image of his face out of my mind, I shook my head, feeling the pain in my chest worsen. Jem was probably dead, too.
As the thought solidified, I realized I needed to call them.
I also realized a big part of the reason I hadn’t was because I hadn’t wanted to know how many of them were dead.
Once I admitted that much to myself, I took a breath, sending out a strong ping to Balidor.
Seemingly the instant I had, a voice exploded in my head.
ALYSON! ALLIE! Gaos… where are you? Where are you, sister?
I flinched from the intensity of his light, biting my lip when tears came to my eyes, when relief washed over me so strongly, I couldn’t answer him at first.
I sent him a huge pulse of affection instead, along with more gratitude than I would have been able to express in any amount of words. Balidor sent me a blast of warmth back, even
as he sent words to me again, tumbling out of his light in a near-frantic rush.
Where are you, Allie? Gaos––we have been looking everywhere for you, sister! Fucking everywhere. I admit, we feared the worst. We have lost so many. So damned many––
I felt the thought choke somewhere in his light, even as I shook my head.
I wasn’t ready to hear the list. Not yet.
We were so afraid we’d lost you, my sister… so afraid. Tell me where you are. Tell me where you are so we can come get you! We need you, sister…
Still fighting to control my light, I sent him a snapshot with my light, showing him the banks of the river. I sent him an image of where I’d first jumped in, the Shadow soldiers who’d chased me, the roof, my shot leg, a packed summary of how I’d gotten here, how far my light told me I’d traveled, land marks I’d passed on the way.
I showed him the buildings on my side of the river, trying to find street names, anything that might actually help him––
Mountains, Allie. Balidor’s light was coaxing that time, gentle. I need something more permanent. Anything that wouldn’t have moved.
Exhaling, I nodded, realizing he was right.
I looked up, scanning the horizon, letting him see through my eyes.
I didn’t see any mountains. I showed him a tower, along with a bridge overpass I could see in the distance. Most of the overpass was gone from the flooding river, but I could see what remained of an exit sign in Chinese characters.
I couldn’t read them myself, but––
Got it, Balidor sent, exuding another pulse of relief. Allie, we’re on our way.
I nodded, feeling my throat tighten more.
I wanted to ask him.
I wanted to ask him so badly.
Allie, Revik’s all right. He got out. He’s with us.
Shock exploded in my aleimi.
My heart felt like it caught on fire in my chest.
Feigran was with him, Balidor added. I don’t know how the hell they got out of there in time, but Revik credited that mak rik’ali ilyo with saving his life. Again.
I couldn’t hear him. I couldn’t see.
I let out a groan, even as I fell to my knees.
Allie? ALLIE! Are you all right?
I knelt there, gasping, and Balidor’s light wrapped into mine. I felt him talking to someone else, but I could barely hear him, could barely make sense of his words.
Dragon: Bridge & Sword: The Final War (Bridge & Sword Series Book 9) Page 69
