by T. C. Edge
I look again at the truck as it passes, and hope that most of them are alive. And yet, I wonder too whether they know what they’re now facing. Have all our soldiers been told that the high command have determined the city to be a lost cause? Do they know that their job now is solely to draw the Cure’s army into a final bout, in order to give the civilians time to escape?
Most likely, they don’t. But if they did, they’d take up position anyway. There are few cowards here now. All those still dedicated to defending our lines appear willing to lay down their lives.
And Drum is included in that number. Ever since that fateful day in which he accidentally killed a man. A man who mocked him, and whose mocking words were given at such an unfortunate time. A time when Drum was so grief-stricken by the loss of his roommates, the deaths of Fred and Ziggy in the marketplace during one of the Fanatics’ attacks. Ever since that happened, and Zander and I saved him from death or reconditioning, he’s been living on borrowed time.
He’s changed, no longer the quiet, timid, oversized boy from the academy. He’s a soldier now, happy to give his life to save others. He considers his life to be one of service. He believes his sole purpose now is to make up for the life he took. And out here, in this city turned to hell, I can only imagine that he’s making up for it many, many times over.
And so, with thoughts of Drum and Rhoth, and West and the Fangs, and the many hundreds of other soldiers still holding the lines, filling my head, I press on. Away from them. Moving to the relative safety of the HQ, when all I really want is to be out there now, finding my friends, protecting them if I can, or else dying alongside them if I can’t.
Eventually, I come across a jeep heading east, moving back to collect more soldiers from the other side of the city. I jump in, hitching a ride as close as possible to the core, before taking flight again by foot, hurrying fast from the battle, in a bid to return to it as quickly as I can.
I reach the HQ as evening approaches, another hectic day passing by. I have little idea of what day it actually is now. Or how many days have passed since the Cure began battering our walls, enclosing us in this ever-tightening vice.
Around the HQ, the streets are not as they were. The halls and residential blocks, giving refuge to the people, are no longer shut tight. Large trucks and buses and all available vehicles are gathering outside them. I see hundreds of caretakers and attendants, preparing to usher the people inside and drive them from the city. And there are soldiers here too, ready to protect them as they withdraw.
It appears to be a huge operation, and gathering pace. I turn my eyes to Compton’s Hall and consider rushing in. I may not have another chance to see my friends there.
But I don’t. I’m drawn straight on, time too short to deviate from my primary course, and instead make straight for the City Guard HQ. Moving inside, I find the place as busy as always. My eyes move straight for Adryan like a magnet, quick to find him amid the commotion.
I allow myself the shortest of moments to hug him tight. There’s no time to do anything more, to kiss or reference our last conversation, the words we shared with one another. We merely hug, and then I leave him, heading straight for the gathering at the back.
I see my grandmother, speaking with Colonel Hatcher and several other commanders. My brother is there too, the medics having hastily put him back together.
“How are you feeling?” I ask him, interrupting a discussion with Commander Burns.
He swivels, eyes like granite taking me in.
“Better than ever,” he says gruffly, but with the outlines of a smile hovering on his lips. “How is it out there?”
“Horrible. So what’s the plan then?”
The conversation I interrupted was about just that. Commander Burns, on the other end of it, fills me in.
“Full evacuation,” he says. “You saw what was going on outside? Well, we’re drawing the Cure to the west. Thankfully, they’re massing there naturally, pulling their forces out of the other regions. It will give us a chance to evacuate some of the people through the eastern quarter. We have a route that looks traversable…”
“Sorry…hang on,” I say. “Some of the people?”
“Yes, some,” says Commander Burns bluntly. “Time is too short to ensure all civilians escape the city. We have one run, perhaps two, with the available convoy of vehicles we have. The city will likely be overrun before we can account for them all.”
“So, how many?” I question.
“We don’t know exactly. We should be able to evacuate about twenty to thirty per cent…”
“Twenty to thirty per cent?” I repeat slowly. “Is that…all?”
“Like I say, Brie, it’s impossible to make accurate estimations. It could be much less. It’s unlikely to be much more.”
“Oh my God…” I say, shaking my head. “What about…what about going on foot? They can walk, run? Anything if it means getting out of the city.”
“That’s possible, yes. But we’ll have trouble protecting those on foot if the Cure choose to follow.”
“Which they will,” says Zander. “They’ll chase us down wherever we go. I don’t personally think an evacuation is going to do us any good.”
“You don’t?” I frown.
He shakes his head solemnly.
“There’s…nowhere to go. We can run, for a time. But we only have so much food stocked for this eventuality. You know the wilds, Brie. The outerlands will chew up just about anyone who leaves this place.”
“You sound like you’re giving in?”
“No. I’m just being realistic. This evacuation plan was very low priority. We’ve completely underestimated what we’ve been facing. I don’t feel like anything we do now is likely to help. Some will live on, yes. They’ll run and hide, and live for a time. But most…no. The people of this city do not know the outside world. They will fall in their thousands, and no evacuation is going to change that…”
“Zander.”
I turn to see our grandmother stepping towards us. Her eyes have narrowed, pinching tight. She shakes her head at him.
“There’s no sense in speaking like that,” she says. “Do not lose hope. It’s all we have left.”
“Hope?” says Zander, raising his eyes. “Honestly…I’m not even sure we have that.”
He lets out a long breath, clearly still exhausted. It seems we all have our limits, even him.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I don’t mean to speak out of turn.”
“It’s OK, dear boy,” says Lady Orlando. “But we all need to stay strong right now. The people look to you. You have to keep setting that example.”
He nods slowly.
“You’re right. I will try.”
“That’s all I can ask for. When you try something, you invariably succeed,” smiles Lady Orlando.
Zander stays quiet. I don’t like seeing him like this, so filled with doubt, his hope abandoning him. Most of the time, I get most of my strength from seeing him so determined, so dauntless. I don’t think I’m up to the task alone.
“So, when’s the first convoy leaving?” I ask tentatively.
There are questions on my mind now, so many questions. Some, I don’t even want to give voice to. It seems that some terrible choices now need to be made.
“Within the hour,” says Commander Burns. “We’re setting the blockades in the west. The Cure are likely to break through the inner wall at any moment, at which point we’ll keep them busy in the streets. It will give us some time to mobilise the retreat.”
I cringe as the next question trickles nervously from my lips.
“And, how do you choose who goes, and who stays?”
I look from one set of eyes to the next. All look uncomfortable, though Commander Burns, a stoic Savant as he is, needs to try to remain as dispassionate as possible.
“The women and children will be prioritised,” he says. “We have soldiers to protect them…”
“But there are thousands of women
and children,” I say. “And…like Zander says, they won’t survive the wilds.”
“They will have a chance, with protection. I’m sorry, Brie, but there are no easy decisions here.”
I feel Lady Orlando lay a wrinkled hand on my shoulder.
“Brenda, Tess, and the children from the academy will be taken in the first convoy,” she says, smiling comfortingly. “I assure you that they will be safe.”
I shake my head.
“I didn’t mean…” I start. “You’d prioritise them for me? But what about everyone else? Why do I deserve…”
“You’d prefer others were taken instead?” asks Commander Burns, his eyebrows lowering. There’s a tension to his voice. He’s losing his patience.
“No,” I say. “I mean, of course not. But…”
“But nothing, Brie,” says Burns. “I know these sorts of decisions are almost impossible to make. But, do not question them when they go your way.”
I recoil.
“Go my way? What the hell does that mean?”
“It simply means that Mrs Carmichael and your friends from the academy will be prioritised above others because of you. Their affiliation with you, due to your importance, will give them a chance that others won’t have. Don’t second guess that. If you want them to have the best chance of survival, then just accept it.”
“Brie,” comes my grandmother’s voice again. I turn to her. “You know war isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair. This is a good thing. Listen to Commander Burns. We have so little time, and none can be wasted on questioning good intentions.”
“I…I know. I’m just…I can’t believe it’s come to this. And I don’t understand why we’re waiting? Why not go now?”
“Because it isn’t time yet,” says Burns sharply. “We have our best military minds on this, and will only transfer the people once we feel they have their best chance of getting to safety. We have to wait for the Cure to be fully occupied with our army, within the walls of Inner Haven, before we can sanction the evacuation.”
His words are becoming increasingly firm. Yet I still have questions.
“Anything else?” he asks, staring at me with those piercing blue eyes of his.
“Well…the soldiers, in the west,” I ask diffidently. “What happens to them? Are they just going to be sacrificed?”
Burns rubs his forehead, his agitation starting to show.
“They will do what they must,” he says. “The longer we can hold back the enemy, the more people may escape. I’m afraid I have no further answers. And I have more work to do.”
He steps away, marching off towards the centre of the room where Colonel Hatcher operates. To see a man like him so tense…it says it all.
“It’s falling apart,” I mutter, watching him go. “How has it come to this?”
The question is directed at no one in particular. I continue to stare out as I utter it, looking blankly over the bustling room, at all these people trying to arrange the evacuation of tens of thousands of people.
I look at them, and I wonder which of them will survive. Will they stay to the bitter end, and be here when the Cure arrive? Will they leave with the first or last convoy, escaping into the outerlands to battle what lurks there?
And a battle it will be. My brother is right on that front. I’ve seen the world beyond our borders, and I know how brutal it is. For those leaving the city, it’ll be out of the frying pan and into the fire. How desperate do we have to be to issue such a command? How awful have things become to force us into the wilds, to try to scratch a new home somewhere in the mud?
I try to think back to where things went so terribly wrong, and in my head I always return to my grandfather, still in the REEF, probably quite aware of everything that’s happening. I imagine he’s waiting, licking his lips as the Cure advance on us. Hoping that our last stand against them is sufficient to deplete their numbers. Enough so that his new force of hybrids can step in and finish the job.
I think of him, and the hatred burgeons. The memory of his face comes to mind, and my fingers roll up into balls, squeezing tight and turning knuckles white. My breathing quickens, and I grit my teeth, and all the while I stare blankly at a room filled with dead people, walking corpses with only hours left to live.
And then I take a breath, and let my hatred cool so my rational mind can be heard. I ask myself a simple question…
What does Artemis Cromwell most desire?
The answer comes quick, without hesitation.
To see the Savants flourish. To see his people live on.
And with that answer, I realise that everything has changed. That he cannot wait for the Cure to attack us. That he cannot let them swamp the city and destroy us…
“He needs us…” I whisper.
“What was that, Brie?”
The voice of Lady Orlando snaps me from my thoughts.
I look at her.
“Cromwell,” I say, still thinking ahead. “He needs us alive. He needs to save the Savants. He needs the city to stand.”
Her expression suggests the thought has crossed her mind already. That it has already been under discussion. It dampens the swell of energy inside me.
“We have tried,” she admits. “Tried contacting the REEF. We’ve been unable to get through. Even Colonel Hatcher hasn’t managed it.”
“But, he has to save his people,” I say again, my fervour fading.
She shakes her head.
“There may be limits he’s willing to accept. And above all, Brie, Artemis has to save himself,” she growls. “This new army…I doubt even he saw it coming.”
“So what…you think he’s just going to let us all die?”
She nods.
“If this secret force of his is real, then he’ll unleash it when the moment is right. We will hold back the Cure for as long as we can, and he may just swoop in and pick up the pieces. He’ll only attack if he believes he has the capability of winning. If not, he may just wait for the Cure to move on, before taking the city back for himself.”
“What’s left of it,” I say. “And that will be…what? Nothing. There’ll be nothing left but ashes. Why would he let this happen?” My blood starts to boil again. “How could he let this happen?!”
“Because it’s who he is,” says Lady Orlando. “It’s just who he is, Brie.”
I take a step back.
“No, that’s not good enough. I need to know. Woolf. She’ll have the answers. Where is she?!”
“We’ve tried speaking with her already,” my grandmother says. “She won’t reveal anything, and her mind cannot be manipulated. Brie, listen to me. There’s nothing to think about now…not with him. We have to save as many people as we can, and that’s all. One way or another, we’re losing this city. Whether by the Cure, or by Artemis’ secret force, we can’t hold back the coming tide.”
“And the Savants?” I say harshly. “There are…how many left? Hundreds? Thousands? Are we taking them with us when we go? Are they being prioritised? We should hold them to ransom…tell Cromwell we’ll kill them all unless he helps…”
“Brie…” comes my brother’s voice. I look at him, and then hear myself, hear what I’m saying. Hear the awful things coming out of my mouth. “Listen to Lady Orlando,” he says quietly. “It’s over.”
I shut my mouth, but my mind rushes on. There’s got to be a way. There’s got to be something we can do.
“There isn’t,” says Zander, staring at me and reading my thoughts.
I find my voice once more.
“So…the Savants,” I say again, still needing answers. “You’re saying they come too? Are they going to be chosen over the Unenhanced, just like they’ve always been?!”
“Brie,” says my grandmother, shaking her head. “I know you’re upset. But we set out to create a city of equality, where all Enhanced and Unenhanced live together, and have equal rights. If this is the first, and last thing we do as a united people, it will be giving everyone a chance to escape.”
Her words draw up a feeling of shame within me. She smiles sympathetically, and goes on.
“We have been drawing lots over the last couple of hours,” she says. “The distribution of different Enhanced and Unenhanced will be fair.”
I hang my head, and go silent. She lifts my chin with a withered finger.
“I’m sorry this had to happen,” she whispers. “But it has happened, Brie. We cannot control the whims of war. All we can do is try to survive the storm.”
She withdraws her hand, cupping my cheek in the process.
As she does, I feel my anger leave me, my stress fade away. She’s right. We can’t change what’s happened. We can only try to make the best of it.
And my best isn’t in here, debating.
It’s out there, fighting.
Right alongside my friends.
25
“Brie, where are you going?!”
Zander’s voice follows me as I march towards the back of the foyer, disappear through a door, hurry down a flight of stairs, and seek out the stock rooms. I reach the ammunition stores, and immediately begin setting about gathering grenades and magazines to fix to my belt, ensuring all my weaponry is fully locked and loaded.
“Brie, stop!” says Zander, following me in. “You’re not going back out there.”
I complete the job without acknowledging him. Only once I’m sufficiently stocked up do I turn and look him dead in the eye.
“I’m doing whatever I can,” I say. “Like grandma said, we can’t change anything now. We can only survive the storm. And I’m going out there to help people do just that.”
I begin moving back towards the door. Zander reaches out a strong hand and stops me.
“Brie…you won’t make a difference. You’re just one soldier among hundreds. There’s no sense in it. You’ll be more help here, escorting the people out of the city. Think of Brenda and Tess…you can go with them, make sure they’re safe…”
