CRY FEAR

by Mike Morris

  So there it was. The three of them on a roof some twenty feet wide and thirty feet long with only a small wall around the edges to defend. It was fitting in a way that it was to end only a few streets away from where he was born, in the city he loved. His brother was dead, his neighborhood was burning to the ground, but he had a good friend next to him, a man that he admired, and on his other side was the woman he loved. Not that he'd told her that. It was too late now, of course. It'd have to wait until the next life.

  They spread out along the wall so they all had room to swing a sword without impeding the other. Jack shifted his feet, found his balance. He could almost hear Master Snow shouting at him when he was a child in his class, getting it wrong more times than he got it right. Brendan would've been rolling his eyes, Erik stifling a grin and Bryan would've just been happy someone else was getting told off instead of him. They had been carefree days looking back, not that they'd realized it at the time. Jack certainly hadn't. What he would give to be back there now.

  A few Turned had reached the roof opposite, with more not far behind. Jack could see the people they'd once been despite the transformation they'd undergone. There was a woman in a ripped-up maid's dress with an apron tied around the front. A breast was exposed, but she didn't care. Beside her was a man, someone's grandfather perhaps, but all signs of age were gone. He bounded along as fast as any of them, baring his fangs, eager for blood. A baker was on his heels, still wearing his white coat, side by side with a woman ... Shelly's mother. By God, no. Jack didn't want it to be true. But it was. It was Sara. The poor woman he'd left grieving over her daughter was gone. She was screaming and snarling with the rest of the Turned, eager for his blood.

  The maid reached them first.

  "Leave her to me," said Robert.

  The maid's red eyes flicked across them. She howled when she saw Lin, changing direction so she headed straight for her. Lin stepped back, raised her sword, but when the maid leapt at her, Robert shot the Turned through the head, knocking her sideways and off the roof.

  Then it was the grandfather's turn. He too veered straight for Lin. Jack didn't waste a bullet on him. He swung as the man jumped the short distance between the two roofs and his sword cut deep into the man's gut. There was barely time to watch him drop before the others reached them. The Turned came thick and fast; the baker, Sara, a man with biceps the size of tree trunks, another woman, a child.

  Despite it all, Jack felt calm now the battle had started. Time slowed, so he could think, react. He became aware of everything — where Robert and Lin were, who they were fighting, what his opponent was doing, who'd attack him next and from what direction.

  He forgot his exhaustion, his doubts, his fears. He was a Black Dog killing the damned. A lifetime of training had gone into this moment. He stabbed the baker through the heart, gave the sword a twist on the way out to make sure, let him fall, and took the head off a boy no more than twelve years old. A woman, maybe the boy's mother, hurled herself at him, so he ducked down and let her fly straight over before whipping around to chop off her arm. She staggered back and Jack planted his sword in the middle of her head.

  Sara reached Lin. Her body was contorted and stretched as she attacked with claws and fangs. Lin stepped back as Sara swiped at her eyes, and kicked the woman in the gut. Sara barely noticed, swiveling around and lunging once more. Lin's Nostros blade flashed out and carved a bloody path down the center of Sara's head. The woman disintegrated into ash as if cut by sunlight.

  There was no time to wonder how her sword had done such a thing. A hand came at Jack and he jerked his head out of the way so the claws flashed past. He reversed his blade and thrust it into the Turned's heart. He yanked it free and slashed at another. The tide of demons didn't slow no matter how many they killed. For every one they killed, another two appeared on the roof to attack.

  Lin bore the brunt of the assault. The Turned wanted her above all, often pushing past Jack or Robert to try to get to her. She fought with fury and skill and her Nostros sword was a blur as it cleaved its way through her opponents, turning them to ash instantly. Jack had never seen the like. Every blow was fatal. The sight of the sword drove the Turned into greater heights of frenzy. They shrieked and howled as they tried to tear it from her hand, but to get close to her sword was to invite death.

  Robert was like a giant amongst the mayhem. The sword he'd taken from Simon was nothing compared to the hammer he was used to wielding, but it did the job all the same. He recited the Black Dog's prayer as he fought. "Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us your strength in the night, and protect us from the darkness as we protect those who need our strength, and lead us not into danger, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen."

  He struck down another Turned, spun to face his next attacker, and started the prayer again. "Our Father who art in heaven ... " He hacked the creature across the face and stamped on its head when it fell.

  Jack's heart pounded away in his chest and his mouth was drier than he could ever remember. He cut and slashed, chopped and stabbed. The bodies grew around them but still the Turned came on.

  Something crashed into Jack's back and sent him sprawling. He cried out as the air was knocked from his lungs and felt breath on his neck. He rammed his elbow back, caught the Turned in the mouth, once, twice, three times. The blows dislodged it enough for Jack to twist around to face the creature. It slashed at his chest with its claws, ripping shirt and skin alike. Jack howled with pain and smashed the pommel of his sword into its mouth, breaking teeth and fangs. It reared up, baring its chest, and Jack thrust his sword through its eye. The creature fell on him and, for a moment, Jack lay there with the dead Turned's face an inch from his own while he sucked in air and tried to gather his strength.

  Pain flared in his ankle. A Turned had its jaw wrapped around his boot, its fangs piercing the leather. He kicked out with the other foot as he threw the dead creature off him. A shadow loomed over him and Jack brought his sword up — only to see that it was Robert. The big man kicked the Turned in the head and sent it spinning away from Jack. Robert thrust out a hand and hauled Jack to his feet. "No time to sleep, lad. Still plenty to go around."

  Jack, Robert and Lin stood back to back in the center of the roof. The Turned came at them from all directions now, some drawn from the bridge by the sounds of fighting or the smell of blood or God knew what else. They climbed up and over the walls, jumped from the roofs opposite, some even seemed to fall from the sky. It didn't matter.

  Minutes passed. The three hacked and cut at any that came near. The stacks of dead grew higher and higher. They each had a thousand cuts and scratches, a hundred bites and bruises, but none were killing wounds. They could still stand. They could still fight.

  Jack sucked in air, not sure if it even reached his lungs for all the good it did him. His hands were cramped and bloody, locked tight around his sword's grip. The weight of the night pressed down on him as exhaustion seeped into his bones.

  A woman came at him and he cut her down with a wild swing. He swayed and nearly fell, and had to hold onto Robert to stay upright. "I can't keep this up for much longer," he gasped.

  "You can do it," said Robert, sounding just as weary. The assault had been relentless on all of them.

  But somehow, for the first time since the Turned attacked, space opened up around them. Half a dozen Turned circled them, keeping their distance around the perimeter of the roof.

  "What are they waiting for?" said Lin.

  "I don't like it," said Robert.

  As they watched the creatures, Jack suddenly realized something — the sky was brightening. He looked to the east, past the smoke and flames, down the Thyme. Red and purple stained the horizon. "Dawn."

  As he uttered the word, the Turned attacked together. They hit the three of them from all sides, so fast there wasn't time to defend
themselves. Jack went down, got a foot in his mouth, a knee in his kidneys. He heard Lin cry out, saw Robert go down, but then the Turned were gone, leaping off the roof, back into Brixteth.

  He scrambled to his feet, saw Lin sprawled over a pile of corpses. He rushed to her and felt a surge of relief when she opened her eyes. "What happened?"

  Next to her, Robert rolled over onto his knees, puked what little had been in his gut then dry heaved. When he'd caught his breath, he looked over at Jack and Lin. "I'm okay, in case you were worried."

  "I was," said Jack. "What happened then? Where did they go?" He helped Lin to her feet, then picked his sword up. It felt odd in his hand all of a sudden. A dead weight meant for someone else. His brother.

  He could see the Turned in the distance, moving fast in what little remained of the night, disappearing amongst the roof stacks, heading back toward the fire. He couldn't believe it. They were gone. The three of them had survived. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He wanted to collapse. It just didn't seem right to still be breathing. Not after everything that had happened. After all he'd lost.

  A cheer from the bridge got his head up. Jack peered over the wall and saw the Black Dogs had survived there, too — or at least some of them had. The Turned had called off their assault and fled into the streets. The dawn had saved them all. They had another day to live. Another day to hope. Another day to come up with some sort of answer to the Nostros threat.

  He looked at Lin and Robert, at their tired, beaten-up faces, and he laughed. "We did it."

  Robert picked him up and squeezed. "We bloody did it."

  When Robert let go, Lin hugged Jack. "I told you not to give up."

  "You never do," said Jack.

  "There are some things still worth living for," she said.

  They looked into each other's eyes. Jack wanted to kiss her more than anything he'd ever wanted to do in his life. He knew he should tell her how he felt, what she meant to him.

  Lin broke away, shattering the spell. She looked around at her feet, searching for something.

  "What are you looking for?" asked Jack.

  She started pulling bodies out of her way. "My sword. Where's my sword?"

  "Shit," said Jack, swallowing a sense of dread.

  They searched the roof, checking under the bodies and in every corner of the roof, but the Nostros sword was nowhere in sight.

  "They took it," said Lin.

  "What? The Turned?" asked Robert.

  "Bastards," spat Lin. Her eyes scanned the rooftops and the trails the departing Turned had left. "They fucking took it."

  "Most of the attacks were focused on you," said Jack, "and the sight of the sword drove them crazy."

  "The Master wants me dead," said Lin. "That's all."

  "They could have had us in that last attack, but they didn't," said Jack. "They wanted to steal the sword and take it back to the Nostros."

  "Bastards."

  "It turned them into ash when you cut them," said Jack. "They'd not want anyone to have such a weapon."

  "And I've bloody well gone and lost it. Shit." For a moment, Lin looked as if she was going to set off after the Turned, but then he saw the fight go out of her. "Bastards."

  "Nothing to be done about it now." Robert cracked his neck from side to side. "Let's get off this roof and get to the bridge."

  They followed him down a rickety set of stairs through the building. Everyone kept their eyes open for any Turned that might lurk in the dark interior, but it was deserted.

  The sense of relief as they stepped out on to the street was almost overwhelming. The sun had reached them, and as it touched the dead demons there was a pop as they burst into flames. The three survivors walked toward the bridge, weaving their way past the little bonfires. Jack glanced up at the roof where they'd made their stand. There, too, a fire burned. They'd left plenty of bodies, after all. It wouldn't be long before the whole building went up.

  The last few steps to the bridge took an eternity. Every part of Jack was in pain. He had serious cuts all over his face and body and he needed sleep more than anything. The only sounds were the pops of Turned catching alight. Smoke drifted down the narrow streets from the various fires, hiding a lot of the horrors. He felt like he was in a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. He'd survived the night, but it didn't feel like a victory.

  He nearly cried when he saw the Black Dogs gathered at the bridge. They looked as beaten as he felt. He scanned faces, trying to spot Nial, but he couldn't see him anywhere.

  A cry went up as the Black Dogs saw Jack and the others approach. Weapons were raised, but the daylight took the edge from their fears.

  "Jack! Robert!" called Edward, making his way to the front rank. "You're alive!"

  "We are," said Robert.

  Edward ran out and embraced them both. "Thank God for that. We've lost too many of our best tonight."

  "The losses have been high?" asked Jack.

  Edward scratched the back of his neck. "Aye. They have. I've never seen so many of the Turned in my life."

  "We saw." Robert pointed at the burning roof they'd left behind. "We wanted to get to you, but we had to make a stand up there."

  "Good job, too," said Edward. "We would've shot you if you'd tried to get to us here. We weren't taking any chances." He put his arms around both men's shoulders and led them to the bridge. "Let's get you some food and a hot drink."

  Jack glanced back at Lin following on behind. She gave him half a smile in return but it didn't reach her eyes. Not surprising after the night they'd had.

  They got welcoming pats on the back from the Black Dogs as they made their way through the barricade. Jack was relieved to see Erik still standing and he spotted Alan with Christoph sitting to one side of the bridge. He recognized a few other faces but didn't see the one man he was looking for. "Where's Nial?" he asked.

  Edward stopped. The look on his face told Jack everything.

  "What happened?" asked Jack.

  Before Edward could answer, a troop of horses arrived from the other end of the bridge. The soldiers wore the livery of the royal guard and at their head was Willingham. They stopped a few yards from Jack and the others and Willingham dismounted. "Thank God you're alive," he said as he walked over.

  "Barely," muttered Robert.

  Willingham shook all their hands before stopping at Lin. "I'm especially glad to see you survived. Did you find your friend?"

  "I did." Lin gestured to Jack. "This is Brother Jack Frey."

  Willingham arched an eyebrow as he glanced at Jack. "A man is judged by his friends, and you have the finest in this young lady."

  Jack bowed. "I know, Your Excellency."

  Willingham turned to Edward. "I came as soon as I could to find out what the situation is. Where's Nial?"

  Edward scratched his head again. "Ah. I was just about to tell the lads here ... he died earlier."

  Even though he'd been expecting the news, Jack felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Robert leaned against the bridge railing and cursed. Willingham stepped back, visibly shaken.

  "How did it happen?" asked Willingham through clenched teeth.

  "He went with a couple of lads to check out a warehouse Jack had said was connected to the house on Sigil Street where we first found the dead," said Edward.

  Jack looked up. "Sarahlas?"

  "If that's who owned the warehouse in the middle of the firestorm down there," said Edward.

  "Sarahlas?" said Willingham. "I know her."

  "She had about a hundred people prisoner in the warehouse," said Edward. "And a dozen Turned sleeping in crates. When she woke them up for dinner, Nial tried to stop them. She shot Nial in the fight."

  "Is she dead?" said Willingham.

  Edward shook his head. "She got away before the others set fire to the place."

  Willingham signaled one of his guards over. "I want you to send a cadre of men to the Duke of Westland's house. Find out where his sister is. You're to arrest her for
treason."

  Lin stepped forward. "Westland? I told Nial I thought he was the man who hired the assassins who tried to kill me."

  "Arrest Westland too," said Willingham to the guard. "I never liked the man anyway." The guard saluted and left. "Now, what are you planning to do?" he asked the Dogs.

  Edward sighed. "I'm going to send men back into Brixteth to help evacuate whoever is left. We'll let through anyone who tries to leave during the day. After sunset, we'll shoot anything that moves."

  Willingham nodded. "The fires are doing you a favor. Best get your men to help spread them further. Once a building's empty, torch it. I would also suggest you blow up the bridges over the river at nightfall as well. Better to be safe." The man sounded so calm, so matter of fact about it.

  Jack felt his temper flare. "Thousands of people are still in Brixteth. If we can't get them out, we'll be leaving them to the Nostros' mercy."

  "If a few thousand must die so a country may live, then so be it," said Willingham.

  Jack punched him.

  Willingham went down hard and sprawled in the blood-soaked slush. Two of his men rushed to help him while the others drew swords on Jack, shouting at him to put his hands up.

  Edward stood between them, hands held out. "Please, the boy's tired and emotional. No harm was meant. He's from Brixteth. It's his people who are going to die."

  Jack was eager to fight on but Robert wrapped his arms around him. "Don't do anything else bloody stupid, lad," he hissed in Jack's ear. Black Dogs at the barricade heard the commotion and some, seeing one of their own in trouble, started forward, hands on the grips of their swords. Lin stood to one side, a look of disapproval on her face. No wonder — he knew she wanted Brixteth burned to the ground.

  "He struck the chancellor. He's going to hang," said a guard, his sword point waving in Jack's face.

  "Try it," snarled Jack. He surged forward again but Robert held him firm.

  Willingham was back on his feet and brushing the dirt from his trousers and tunic. "It's all right," he said. "Emotions are running high for all of us. It's forgotten now." He fixed his eyes on Jack to let him know he'd remember it too well. "Let us pray we can evacuate everyone before the sun sets. In the meantime, I would suggest everyone gets some rest." He turned to Lin. "Would you like to come back to the palace with me?"