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Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

Page 137

by Margo Bond Collins


  Flicking the torchlight from side to side, I paced from one pillar to another. Twenty-four pillars away from Glynn. I kicked paper. Something metallic clattered against the concrete floor. I'd found the folded map and a heavy watch. Aidan had been here. But he'd gone now.

  "I found the map," I yelled back to Glynn and Del. "And a watch."

  "Where's my son?" Del's accusing voice neared as she staggered to where I stood. She squealed and grabbed the watch from my hand. "It was Ed's. He gave it to Aidan last birthday."

  As if the watch reminded him, Glynn checked his own and grunted. "We have to go. If I run, I'll make it back to base in time." He gripped my shoulder. "Wait in the Plaza with Del. I'll get them to drop you home straight after bringing Del to Hospital."

  Glynn circled his arm around Del's shoulder again and pushed her back up the ramp and across the street. The torch died as I followed them. At the first bench we came to, he settled Del at its center. "Wait here."

  Del started to argue. I nudged her in the hip. If Glynn ran back to base now, maybe I could sneak into the tunnels and explore on my own. Her eyes flashed understanding and she converted her words to a grumbly groan.

  "Look after Meagan for me." He kissed Del's forehead.

  "I hurt too much to do anything silly." Del breathed heavily.

  His smile wavered. He glanced at his watch again and swore under his breath. "I'll tell you everything, as soon as I get back."

  He darted away but after several long strides he spun around and bounded back.

  He wrapped his hands around the back of my head and pressed his lips against mine. I hugged him close.

  "Please." He touched his fingertips to my cheek. "Go home and lie low."

  The urgency in his voice caused a hitch in my breathing. He turned away before I could answer. He ran to the first crossroad and disappeared around the corner, the sound of his boots hitting the pavement disappeared soon after.

  Glynn wanted me away from the city, away from the tunnels, and from Asher and the army base. But I couldn’t help anyone if I didn’t understand the undead and why they’d attacked, and I couldn’t find out what was going on sitting alone in Del’s house. I still had the gun in my satchel, I wouldn't use it unless I had to, but if my own power failed, I could protect myself if any living twitchers roamed these tunnels.

  Del’s face shone with perspiration. She looked to be preoccupied with breathing rather than plotting.

  "I'm going to explore for a bit." I stood and stretched out my back. "You'll be okay waiting here for the medic, won't you?"

  She pushed herself to her feet. "Do you seriously think I'm leaving without my son?"

  Del stumbled; I grabbed her arm to stop her from crashing to the ground. "You can hardly stand."

  "I want Aidan out of here before bullets starts flying." She pulled the watch out of her pocket. "Ed must be here too. Aidan thought so. Maybe he’s still alive. I have to keep going."

  She tapped the pamphlet. "Aidan and his bike are missing, and he circled Westmead Station on this map. That's where he went."

  Breathing heavily, Del walked to the top of the steps and gripped the railing. "I'm still not sure about you. But you're good for one another, I can see that." Her voice held amusement and something else. A deep pit of strength she pulled to the surface.

  "Glynn is sending a medic for you. You need to be here waiting for them, you need urgent surgery."

  "It's not bleeding. Besides, he's sending the medic for you too. You never intended to go home, did you?" Del turned the watch in her free hand and dropped it in her pocket. "I'll go to the base hospital once I've found Aidan. You can do whatever you like, but I'm going to find my son."

  12

  Del gripped a gun. "You helping or not?"

  Her breaths came ragged and seemed painful, but her voice echoed strong and determined. The chance to explore by myself slipped away. I couldn't let her go off on her own, maybe to collapse and never be found.

  I fidgeted with the strap on my satchel. "What's the plan?"

  "Make it up as we go along."

  Maybe if we found Aidan, I could leave them both somewhere safe and come back to find Glynn. "I guess we start at Westmead Station?" I gazed back down the stairs, into a pit of blackness.

  "It's where the first group of men disappeared. It's where Ed went the day he didn't come home."

  "We need the bikes. The lights are dim but better than no light at all."

  "They won't help, unless we're peddling." A spasm crossed Del's face and she gripped the railing again.

  "Make your way down to Westmead platform." I squeezed her hand. "I'll go down the extra level and get the bikes. If we push them along, we'll get some light, and once they're charged, they'll shine for a few minutes."

  I strode down the steps, taking them two at a time when it felt safe enough. Above me, Del's footsteps plodded slow and heavy. At the bottom of the stairs, I oriented myself in the darkness, and set off with small steady steps to avoid falling off the platform onto the tracks. My hand stretched out in front of me so I didn’t trip over the bikes.

  In fewer steps than I remembered, a handlebar thumped into my stomach. I'd found the bikes. I inhaled deeply. I could do this. Gripping the handlebar and gritting my teeth, I retraced my steps. The bike weighed a ton and the pedals kept smacking into my legs.

  "It's working," Del shouted from above.

  With trembling arms, I thrust the bike into Del’s arms and together we turned it around. She knelt, turned the pedals by hand and a feeble light trickled down the stairs.

  Feeble, but better than pitch-blackness. I ran back down, grabbed my borrowed bicycle and dragged it up the stairs to Westmead Station.

  We both swiveled our bikes and rotated the dim light across our surroundings. The platform and tracks stretched out on either side of us. A layer of dust covered the platform, undisturbed except for our footprints and the tire tracks around the steps.

  A draft of stale air lifted the hair on the back of my neck. A faint odor of earth and decay wafted to my nose.

  I twirled the pedals to keep the light shining, and scanned our surroundings again. A handcart stood on the track. It hadn't been there before—I hadn't noticed that smell before.

  "What is it?" As Del sniffed the air, her face contorted. She lifted her gun to her chest, and dropped into a crouch.

  I sensed rather than saw a group of undead beings. I lowered Del's gun. "Bullets won't hurt them. They are already dead."

  "I've shattered the skulls of more undead..." Del’s words slurred as the gun fell from her hand.

  "These aren't your garden variety undead," I whispered.

  She lifted her head, as if to try and finish her sentence, instead she dropped the bike and collapsed into a heap next to it.

  "Del." I tried to lift her shoulders. Damn it. Not a good time for Del to flop into a heap.

  Her head lolled onto her chest. I grabbed the gun from under her legs, found the trigger lock and clicked it on.

  I pushed out with my senses, asked them to tell me who they were. The strength emanating from the group pushed me to my knees. Their fear and hope, curiosity and determination washed over me in ripples. A mix of sentient ghosts and living dead giving off stronger life energy than many of the living. The ghosts reminded me of Evie and my father, with substance and strength rare in the dead.

  Two of them edged toward us. The dim lights from our bicycles caught snatches of gossamer clouds around the cart.

  I wrapped my arm around Del's shoulders, my fingers sunk into warm thick blood leaking from her wound. Double damn. I didn't have the strength to heal her again. No choice now, she needed to get to the hospital at the military base, and quickly. A need to know, to understand these people, sparked my curiosity. Lousy timing, I had to get Del to the base, without Col. Asher finding me. Then find Aidan, without crashing into Glynn and his squad in the tunnels.

  This was not going to plan at all.

  Luckily, maki
ng it up as I went along was one of my specialties. The ghosts and the living dead made no attempt to harm us. They were nothing like the crazy living dead at the twitcher warehouse. They seemed as curious as me, if anything. The two edged closer. A slim young woman, almost opaque, white except for dainty feet clad in blue ballet flats. Behind her, the body of a much larger and older man.

  "I'm Meagan, and this is Del. May I know your name?"

  "Liliwen." Her smoky form hung like wispy clouds.

  "I don't mean any harm to any of you." I kept my arm around Del. "We need your help."

  "Your kind is incapable of anything but harm." A woman's singsong lilt danced around the cavern.

  Liliwen drifted closer. "What do you want?"

  "We came looking for a young boy. He needs to come home. He is unwell, needs medication—"

  "The medication he takes does not help him."

  Liliwen spoke in the present. My heart skipped a beat, she'd met Aidan.

  "This is his mother. He's autistic. He needs tablets, or he can't cope." My breathing grew heavier, louder. The sound of panic in Del's tone when she first discovered him missing jolted into my head.

  "I'm a juvenile psychiatrist. He is fine" —Liliwen knelt beside Del— "but she needs urgent medical attention."

  "Yes. And she must find her son. Are you holding him against his will?"

  She laughed, but without malice. "Not against his will, no. He does not meet your expectations, but he copes in his own way."

  "Can you help us to the army hospital?"

  The older man stood still and silent at the edge of the platform. The other beings hung close to the handcart. Their fear of me lapped against me. They felt my power over the dead and expected me to wield it without compassion. That wasn't me. They couldn't know that, but I could show them. I kept my power close to my chest.

  "It's true, I am a necromancer." I projected my voice for them all to hear. "I assure you I mean you no harm. I fear my friend will die if she doesn't get treatment."

  Liliwen stood and called the man to join us. "Lift her into the cart, Bill. There should be room for both bicycles." She turned towards me. "And both women."

  "You said you're a psychiatrist. Do you have the means to treat her?"

  "We have fitted out a makeshift hospital, and we have doctors."

  Bill lifted Del as gently as a baby. I started to follow, jolted to a stop when the bicycle lights dimmed completely.

  "Stay where you are. Bill will guide you."

  "Wait." I gripped Bill's arm. "Is it far? She is bleeding."

  "We are a lot closer to our base than the military hospital," Liliwen said. "I offer our help freely. Do you accept?"

  If Glynn knew we were about to follow a group of unknown spirits and undead into unfamiliar tunnels toward an uncertain outcome, he would have a fit. But he wasn't here, and I couldn't think of any other option.

  "We accept. Thank you." I released Bill's arm and waited while he shuffled to and fro between the cart and the bottom of the steps, first with Del, and then with the bicycles. Finally, he came back to me. I gripped his arm again and let him lead me onto the tracks and into the cart.

  Bill carefully sat Del into a seat at the back of the cart and fastened the bicycles at the front, so they didn't move and fall on us at every bump in the track. He helped me into the cart like an old-fashioned gentleman. He let me settle then handed me a small torch as I took Del’s weight against my shoulder. Flicking the torch on every so often relieved the unending darkness, and let me check on Del.

  Goosebumps covered my arms. At first, the coolness of the tunnels had been a pleasant relief from the oppressive heat. But as we descended, the temperature dropped. I lost track of time, but we couldn't have been moving for more than a few minutes. The noise of metal wheels against metal tracks almost drowned out Del's heavy breathing.

  Dear Haebeth—I massaged the back of my neck as if on autopilot—please let me be doing the right thing. The doctors Liliwen mentioned would surely help. I kept pressure on the wound like Glynn showed me. If she died, it would be my fault. I should have stopped her.

  We bounced over some humps in the track and Del moaned and wriggled. Her eyes widened, her face ashen, and she struggled to sit upright.

  "It's okay." I shushed her. "They are taking us to see Aidan."

  "Who? Where?" She coughed, a hacking sound that ended in an ugly guttural groan. "What are they?"

  "We are almost there. Please lie still." I pushed her back against the solid metal, my hand firm against her still bleeding shoulder. "We've no choice but to trust them."

  She struggled again, her arms trembling against the back of the seat. They couldn't hold her up and she slumped back, her hand vice-like around my wrist. "He's okay?"

  "Liliwen is taking us to him."

  Her face contorted again. "What are they?"

  "Spirits. But they are different to those I usually meet." How could I explain to Del, the difference between an undead she would kill as easily as any vermin, and these living dead who thought, dreamed and feared as much as anyone alive. Fortunately, none of the living dead walked close to the cart, so she hadn't noticed them… yet.

  "What sort of witch are you?" She snorted as if something foul filled her nostrils.

  "She's a necromancer," a young male, his voice at the croaking stage of growing up, said.

  Del shivered. Her cold eyes stared into mine.

  I steadied her arm, felt the goosebumps rising as I touched her skin. "I hope I'm as compassionate to the dead, as I am to the living."

  One of the spirits in front of us sniggered. Del's body tensed. She recoiled as if I'd slapped her.

  "Can you see and hear them Del?"

  "Sort of." She braced herself into the corner. "Why can I hear the mutterings of a bunch of ghosts? What the hell is a necromancer?"

  "She controls the dead. Against their will." The young man peered into the cart.

  Del blinked rapidly, her mouth moved, but she just shook her head.

  Evie and my father drew their strength from me and from Ravenswood. But what was sustaining these creatures? They looked little more than clouds, yet they moved this handcart, and presumably filled and emptied it as well.

  Del gripped my wrist again. "Is my husband alive? Ask her."

  Liliwen didn't wait for me to repeat the question. "His group attacked us at Westmead Station, he was hurt then."

  "You've infected him?"

  Liliwen sighed. "You assume the worst of us. He was injured—"

  "Injured?" Del pushed me away. "How? I need to see him."

  "Shot in the arm. Let me finish a sentence. I don't know by who. It was dark, confused. But we don't use guns. Your soldiers do when you come to harass us, but we do not shoot back."

  Del let out a low sigh. Shot in the arm was probably not as bad as some of the possibilities she’d been living with since he went missing. She lifted her hand to her throat. "He's with you… and my son? You’ve treated him?"

  "Yes, he's at our base and recovering. We had to make a decision between leaving the injured soldiers to die or bringing them back for treatment."

  "They are both alive." I squeezed my arm around Del's quaking shoulders. "Please lie still, or it will be they who grieve for you."

  Del swallowed hard, as if choking back a lump in her throat, and squeezed her eyes shut. The horrors surrounding her must have been getting to her.

  The unending suffocating blackness set my nerves on a razor’s edge. With Del lying still, I alternated pressing down on Del's wound, with flicking the torch on for a few seconds. The tiny patch of light emphasized the blackness around us. The spirits had no trouble seeing or sensing what they were doing in the dark.

  With my palms pressed together I whispered a prayer. "Whatever base they are taking us to, please let it be light and airy."

  Up ahead, a circle of gray stood out in the blackness.

  "Not long now." I squeezed Del's hand. The tension across my so
ldiers eased. The cart rumbled a little faster, as if the spirits were eager to get back to base as well.

  Before we reached the circle of gray, we stopped and turned a sharp right.

  "It's a little steep. Hold on," Liliwen called out.

  I knelt at Del's feet and steadied her as the gradient of the descent sharpened and we were plunged into blackness again. We leveled out, then turned a sharp left and descended again. We were nowhere near Westmead Station. We’d twisted and turned like a roller coaster. Glynn and his troops would be lucky to find us.

  13

  Liliwen slowed her pace to come alongside the handcart. "Owen won’t be happy I've brought you to our haven." She spoke to me in a hushed whisper. "I will speak with him, and I expect he will want to speak with you."

  I nodded. Owen must be the leader of this undead group, or at least their spokesperson. As soon as they saw to Del, I had to find out what they were doing, and why. And what the army was doing to them. We turned another corner and headed towards the pale-yellow light pouring from the wide opening of a vast cavern.

  I'd wanted to explore on my own, but it looked like I'd stumbled into the very place I needed to be.

  My pulse quickened as our pace slowed. I liked nothing better than a challenge to solve, clues to chase down, and information to pounce upon. The tracks leveled out and inclined upwards in places, but the spirits and living dead surrounding the cart pushed ahead. Their relief at getting back to home base pattered into my head like refreshing spring rain.

  My eyes had grown accustomed to the blackness. I blinked rapidly at the light as a shiver shook my shoulders. Pervasive coldness penetrated every pore. Del's skin felt warm and clammy. I felt for her pulse and her eyes flickered open.

  "We're almost there."

  She grabbed my hand, her gaze flicking back and forth from my face to the roof tunnel. She struggled to sit up. "Aidan?"

  "Treatment for you first." I squeezed her fingertips.

  She moaned at me, but weakly. She'd lost a lot of blood and pushed herself too hard. I felt no malice in Liliwen. A hospital existed. We'd find out soon enough if they had the inclination and ability to heal Del. My feet drummed a fast march against thick wood at the bottom of the cart. It was the beginning of an adventure, into a dragon's lair, drawn into an enticing glow.

 

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