Beyond These Walls | Book 8 | Between Fury & Fear

by Robertson, Michael

  A few seconds to gather himself, William remained on his back and stared up at the half-moon.

  Gracie dragged the final pole across with a scrape. It pinged as she laid it with the others. She offered William her hand.

  Up on shaking legs, the wind rocking his fatigued form as if it blew stronger than before. William retrieved Jezebel and walked to the edge of the roof. The city stretched away from them. “How long before we’re out of this place?”

  “I reckon an hour,” Gracie said. “Keep doing as I say and we’ll make it.”

  “Unless we see a better route ourselves,” Olga said.

  Gracie had taken to pretending she didn’t hear Olga. For the best, really. There seemed little point in engaging in an argument neither would back down from.

  “See that tall tower over there?” Gracie pointed, and it took William a few seconds to pick out the large metal structure against the dark sky. Triangular in shape, it started with a wide base and narrowed to a point. Not as tall as the tower they stood on, but taller than many of the buildings surrounding it. She said, “That’s where we’re heading.”

  William traced a line with his eyes from the bottom of the tower to their destination. The enormous arena stood in their way. “Uh,” he said, “will we go through that thing?”

  “The stadium?” Gracie said. She nodded. “Yeah, it’s the best route. Like with the buildings and the roofs, there aren’t any mines in the stadium because the diseased don’t go through there.”

  “You know”—Olga said it so loud William jumped—“I would have beaten that scavenger on the roof back there.” She pointed at the first tower. A dark glare levelled on Hawk. Her eyes narrowed. “If he hadn’t tried to be a hero and tripped me over while he was at it.”

  Aimed at Gracie, the red-headed girl opened her mouth to reply, but Olga cut her off.

  “What I’m saying is I didn’t need your help.”

  “I never said you did. And you’re right, Hawk made it a lot harder. Maybe next time”—she turned to the stocky hunter—“let Olga fight her own battles.”

  “The same could be said to you,” Olga said.

  A long intake of breath raised Gracie’s chest before she deflated with her exhalation. “So that’s the plan. We need to get to that tower. Does anyone have questions?”

  They all turned to Olga. Thankfully, she didn’t.

  “Everyone okay to move on?” Gracie said. “I don’t know about you lot, but I’m ready to get out of this city. And we definitely need to be out of here before day breaks. This place gets lively then.”

  William bounced on his toes and shook his hands to work the aches from his arms. When no one else protested, Gracie set off for the metal door leading into the building.

  Chapter 9

  Like with every old steel door William had encountered, the hinges on the one leading to the tower’s stairwell groaned and cackled when Gracie pulled it wide. The echo of the mocking call ran down into the darkness. Thankfully, nothing replied.

  His body still weak with spent adrenaline, William held back and let the others in ahead of him before he followed Matilda into the building. Jezebel in one hand, he caught the closing door with his other, easing it shut to keep the noise down, and reducing the already poor visibility.

  The stairwell had one window every few floors. They let in enough splashes of light to reveal their path in stages. They became illuminated checkpoints, each one taking them ever closer to their way out of the abandoned tower.

  Gracie led the line. Too far away for William to hear the details of her conversation, but he got the gist when she turned on Olga with a finger to her lips and hissed, “Shh!”

  Olga stepped back a pace, showing Gracie her palms in defence.

  William picked his steps carefully, the light from the last window and the glow from the next not enough to guide him. He placed each foot before moving on. If he fell, his weak body would turn him into a rag doll, and he wouldn’t stop until he hit the bottom step.

  Despite Gracie’s warning, Olga’s mutterings started up again. He still couldn’t hear the details, but from the tension in Gracie’s back, and from the unrelenting jabbering, he could make a good guess. Another slew of dissent. Another line of questioning that challenged the ginger girl’s right to lead them.

  “Will you shut the fuck up?” Gracie said. Louder this time.

  “No, I won’t.” Olga placed her balled hands on her hips. “I won’t let—”

  Gracie grabbed Olga by the front of her shirt with one hand and the back of the head with the other. She turned the girl ninety degrees, forcing her to look into the long corridor beside them. The number on the wall told them they were on the twenty-first floor.

  The moonlight shone through the paneless hole that had once been a window on this floor. Whatever Gracie had just shown Olga, it stole both her words and her will to fight.

  Artan next, he poked his head through the doorway, glancing back up at Matilda with tightened lips and raised eyebrows. Hawk, Dianna, and Max all did the same, although none of them shared their concern with Matilda. Instead, they redoubled their efforts towards their silent escape, moving down the stairs on tiptoes at a quickened pace.

  After Matilda had looked through the doorway, William leaned in. A long corridor like they’d seen on every other floor. Doors on either side. But this time, bodies spilled from the rooms. Tens of bodies. Had they been slaughtered? One of them twitched and snorted as she inhaled before she rolled onto her side. A headless and limbless torso lay in the corridor about fifteen feet away. Half-eaten and covered in its own blood, it glistened in the moonlight. The soldier they’d seen the scavengers take earlier? Hard to tell.

  Another one of them grunted. A directionless kick snapped through her leg. William pulled back. No wonder Olga had shut up. Where the torso came from didn’t matter. They couldn’t help the person now. They simply needed to get out of the building without being heard.

  Maybe they moved with the same amount of stealth as before, but every gentle step on the concrete stairs now went off like an exploding mine. Which one would disturb the sleeping mob above? How much of a head start would they need to get away safely?

  They passed the eighth floor before Olga started again. “Yet another thing you chose not to mention.”

  “Olga,” Max said. One of the few things he’d said since they’d buried Cyrus.

  A softening of her features, Olga turned Max’s way.

  “Will you shut the fuck up and let Gracie lead us out of here?”

  Olga drew a breath to reply, but this time she caught it before it passed her lips. As the threat of her response died, some of William’s tension left his upper body.

  “Besides,” Gracie said, “you saw how Hawk behaved on the roof when he felt the need to be a hero.” The hunter’s face reddened while Gracie addressed him directly. “Thankfully, there was only one of them. The last thing we need is him planning to go to war against an army. It’s better he doesn’t know where they are.”

  Since they’d entered this city, the moon hadn’t shone bright enough for their needs. But now William stepped from the dark stairwell, the silver glare dazzled him. He rubbed his stinging eyes before looking up the length of the tall tower. Lines of windows ran all the way to the roof. The tallest building he’d ever seen, it appeared even taller since he’d looked from the top down. Not only could he gauge the climb, but he now also had a better sense of the fall.

  The wind continued to whistle through the gaps in this tower and many around them. Just another ruined building. As abandoned as all the others in the city. How could they know what slept on the twenty-first floor if they hadn’t witnessed it? How could they know what resided inside any of the structures? Thank the heavens they had Gracie as their guide. They’d be dead without her.

  “You all ready?” Gracie said.

  The nods passed all the way down to William, who shrugged his compliance. He took off after the others, led by Gracie acro
ss the wide road.

  A row of one-storey buildings on the other side of the street. They’d once been stores of some sort. Gracie boosted from a window ledge, caught the roof of one, and pulled herself up.

  Some of William’s strength had returned, as if having his feet on the ground revitalised him.

  All the others took a path to the roof. Max managed it with the least effort. He threw his war hammer up ahead of him, kicked from the window ledge, and pulled himself up without breaking stride. William did the same with Jezebel.

  Gracie had already set off across the flat rooftops, Olga on her tail. The small firecracker refused to be beaten or left behind, even if it killed her.

  Some of the buildings had gaps between them of only a few feet. William retrieved Jezebel, held her with one hand, and took them in his stride, chasing after Matilda like he used to when they ran through Edin. And like when they ran through Edin, she moved as if she’d been born on a high wire. Her lightness of foot, her grace and balance, she flew across the rooftops with soundless steps.

  Several shops ahead of William, Gracie halted and lowered into a hunch. Olga followed suit. Hawk, Max, Dianna, Artan, and then Matilda did the same. William dropped just in time, the snarling fury of the diseased charging past them on the road down to their left. They were on a mission, their crimson glares fixed on a point in the distance. As oblivious to William and his friends as they were to the scavengers and sentries undoubtedly watching them from the shadows. The pack’s snarling and hissing faded, and William lifted his head. Hopefully, they’d run into a mine.

  Gracie took off again, jumping from the last shop to the ground and tearing across the next cracked road.

  The jolt of William’s landing snapped through his body, but he didn’t have time to manage the aches. Matilda, as the next closest to him, had already reached the halfway point in the road. He gritted his teeth and chased after her.

  The stadium loomed large. Another feat of engineering unlike any he’d encountered. Imagine what it had looked like full. Imagine being a protector, slaying the diseased in front of thousands of spectators.

  Metal stairs ran up the outside of the stadium. The others reached them, their feet beating a tattoo against the steps until they reached a part with a section missing. Three or four stairs had fallen victim to corrosion. Gracie cleared the space, the gap meaningless. Olga, not to be beaten, followed next.

  The others all made it look easy. Weapons in hand, they leaped as if certain of landing. Lactic acid burned William’s calves.

  Matilda cleared the gap, taking it in her stride. But he didn’t jump like her; they both knew that. When Matilda stopped to check on him, William slowed down. He didn’t need an audience.

  “I believe in you,” Matilda said.

  William leaped from the first broken stair too early. Only one hand free, Jezebel in the other. White-hot agony slammed into his shins as he landed across the edge of the next step. Nausea gripped his stomach and clamped his testicles. Sweat lifted on his brow. He clung to the stairs with a shaking hand.

  Matilda locked a tight grip over the back of his wrist. She had him, but she gave him a moment before she helped him back to his feet. A smile he hadn’t seen in a while lit her features. “Well done.” His heart swelled when she kissed his cheek. “Now come on, hopefully it won’t be long before we’re at Gracie’s community.”

  More grazes, William’s shins stung from where he sweated into them. He stumbled up the remainder of the zigzagged staircase. At the top, the roof stretched away as a vast expanse of white corrugated steel. The webbing of rusting bars over their heads, he followed the others across the oval stadium.

  Gracie, Olga, Dianna, Hawk, Max, and then Matilda all vanished through a torn hole in the corrugated roof. William held Jezebel down for Max to take before he lowered himself and dropped.

  Thousands of blue sun-bleached plastic seats ran away from them in both directions. Gracie perched on one, her face glistening with sweat. Max and Dianna had sat down too, Artan standing next to Matilda while Olga twitched, ready to run again. The oval encompassed a muddy rectangle in the centre. The place would hold twenty thousand spectators. Maybe more. Hard to tell. “How many people lived in this city?”

  “Hundreds of thousands,” Gracie said, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths.

  As they all recovered, William walked down the concrete stairs leading to the edge of the pitch. The echoes of dead dreams in his mind, thousands of spectators cheered him. He spoke beneath his breath. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, please be upstanding for the greatest protector Edin has ever seen. They thought Magma was good until this boy bested him as a teenager, exposing him for the fraud he was. Now you have a new hero. A protector worthy of the name and your trust. Someone who will do right by you and the city. Someone who loves Edin’s residents and will die for them. The people’s champion. The fiercest slayer the world has ever seen. Let me hear it for Spiiiiiiiiiiiiike—”

  “Dreams don’t die easily, eh?”

  William jumped and spun around.

  Matilda grinned at him.

  Heat flushed his cheeks, and his throat tightened. “Uh-uh-um …”

  For the second time today, she smiled like she meant it. She reached out and held both of William’s hands in her own. “The life of a protector wasn’t for me, but I loved every ounce of your passion. I love your passion. What you’ve done to get us this far is greater than the work of any protector.”

  “W-what I’ve done?” William pulled in a dry gulp.

  “Whether you like it or not, you’ve led us through this mess. You might not be the fastest or strongest—”

  William held on to his objections.

  “But you’ve helped maintain an even keel. Your decision-making and authority have kept us alive. You’ve remained level-headed and made mostly rational choices.”

  “Mostly?”

  “Nobody’s perfect. We owe you a lot. You’re our protector.”

  Time to let his old dreams die. Edin belonged to a different life. A mum and dad he’d never see again. He’d taken on an extra responsibility whether he wanted it or not. He’d had to make decisions unlike any before. Decisions that affected those he cared about most.

  Matilda stepped closer to William, pressing her body against his. They kissed, and he tasted the salt of her sweat. He inhaled through his nose, drinking in every second of the experience.

  When they parted, William said, “I used to dream of that much more than I did of being a protector.”

  “Get down!”

  Gracie’s shriek sent ice through William’s veins. “What?”

  Her face red, her hands flapping with her words, Gracie said, “Get the fuck down. Now!”

  A whining buzz in the distance. A thrumming hum, like the sound of a gigantic bee. It came from over their right shoulder, the stadium’s roof blocking their line of sight.

  “For the last time,” Gracie yelled. “Get. Down.”

  Matilda dropped and pulled William with her. They crawled beneath the seats and watched the world through the gaps in the bleached blue plastic.

  The hum grew louder. Three lights flew overhead with a whoosh, each of them dragging trails behind them like comets.

  The buzz ran away from them, the giant metal insects shooting off into the distance. Matilda let out a hard exhale. “What the hell were they?”

  “Who knows?” William said. “But I’m sure we’ll find out.”

  Chapter 10

  “I’m going to ask Gracie,” William said.

  But as he sat up, Matilda tugged him back down again. “Let her come over when it’s safe. She knows this place better than us. There might be more of those … things.”

  It made sense. “But what are they? Where do they come from? How are they flying? Are they alive?”

  “Let her come to us. I’m sure she can answer your questions.” Matilda held his hand, a slight tremble running through her. A stuttered burst came
from the other side of the stadium, and she gripped harder. A series of metallic tings. A flash of white light. A roar. An orange glow of fire.

  Gracie appeared over William and Matilda.

  “What’s going on?” William said.

  Her attention divided between him and the commotion in the distance, Gracie said, “Drones.”

  “What?”

  “Come on.” Gracie reached a hand down and helped William to his feet. “Come with me.”

  They all ran through the seating area of the stadium. The closeness of the bleached blue chairs narrowed their paths. The pyrotechnics continued in the sky over to their right. The stuttered bursts. The roar of flames.

  They headed for a jagged hole in the stadium’s far wall from where the sheet metal had been torn wide open, much like on the roof. Gracie leaped through and landed with a clang on the other side.

  Where Olga had failed to trust Gracie before, she now leaped without missing a beat, mirroring Gracie’s movements and landing on the other side of the hole with the slamming of her feet against metal.

  William leaped last, Jezebel out in front of him so he didn’t catch the axe on the sides of the gap. The metal platform belonged to a flight of zigzagged stairs, much like the ones on the other side that had led them to the stadium’s roof. Gracie had already made it down three flights.

  The white glow and bursting of orange flames appeared brighter now they were out of the stadium. The stuttered bursts, followed by the tings of spraying metal. The whoosh of erupting flames.

  Gracie crossed a wider road than many they’d seen, leading them closer to the chaos. She ran around the back of a large square building and came to a halt on the far corner. She grabbed Olga before she could pass her and dragged her back.

  When the others had gathered, Gracie held up the index finger on her right hand. “You get one look each. When you’ve looked, pull your head back in. The last thing we need is for them to see us.”