by Jay Posey
Cass looked back and saw Sky moving towards them in a low crouch. Finn slid smoothly over into the spot where Sky had just been, keeping his weapon up to cover the intersecting alley. Sky continued past Cass, scooted up behind Wick, and patted him on the shoulder. As soon as he did, Wick swiveled fluidly and swept back down the alley towards Finn. Wick looked intense, though he managed a quick wink at Cass, and lightly touched the top of Wren’s head, as he passed them. When he took up Finn’s original position, the two of them carried on a brief conversation that was some mix of whispered words and indecipherable hand signals.
Gamble sidled up next to Cass and leaned in close, so close Cass could feel her breath when she spoke.
“They’re pretty stirred up tonight,” she whispered. “Wick’s going to try to take us around. We’ll move soon.”
Cass nodded and Gamble returned back towards Sky. When Cass turned to check on Wren, she found him peering at her from within his hood. His eyes were wide.
“You OK?” she asked.
“Mama,” he said. “They’re everywhere.”
Cass nodded. “They’ll get us through,” she said, hoping to reassure him. From his expression, though, it didn’t look like she had.
Wick motioned again. Gamble relayed the message to the whole team, and then came alongside Cass and the boys.
“Stay about six feet behind me. And be quiet as you can.”
Wick disappeared around the corner. Finn stood but held his position, providing cover as Gamble led Cass, Wren, and Painter past him, quickly following Wick’s lead. They slipped into the intersection. Gamble let the gap between them and Wick stretch to maybe four or five yards. It’d give them a little more time to react if something happened to him. As they progressed, Cass realized they were in a twisting network of narrow corridors and alleyways, amongst some cluster of buildings several stories high. There were branches every few yards, and Wick led them at a quicker pace than Cass had been expecting. He took turns seemingly at random, but with such certainty and precision she had to believe he knew exactly where he was going.
The calls of the Weir were coming almost on top of each other now, from all directions. At least that’s what it seemed like to Cass. With the way the walls carried the sounds and the echoes, it was impossible to accurately judge numbers, distance, or location. But Cass felt the hair stand up on her neck and knew they were walking a knife’s edge. She could feel the Weir, in a way. A kind of wild pressure, like the tension in the air just before a violent storm.
Wick took them down a short side street and then ushered them quickly across a narrow gap between buildings and into a deep recess under an overhang. At first glance, it looked something like a concrete U, and Cass didn’t much care for the idea of getting boxed in. But on closer inspection, she saw a narrow opening near the center. She didn’t have time to see much more, though. With a single aggressive hand gesture, Gamble directed her, Wren, and Painter to crowd back into the left-most corner.
Cass obeyed immediately and instinctively crouched down, though she didn’t really know why. It just seemed like the right thing to do whenever they stopped moving. Wren slid in next to her, and Painter flopped down beside them. He leaned back against the concrete wall and closed his eyes.
Wick and Sky remained near the entrance of the alcove, each on a knee and weapons shouldered. Scanning for targets. Behind them, Gamble and Finn stood next to each other in conference.
“Swoop, Gamble,” Gamble said in a low voice. “Status…? Check. We’ve reached the alternate rally. It’s pretty sporty out here. How is it your way…? Got an estimate…? Alright, check. See you in a few.”
She looked up at Finn. “Think they’ve got a line on us?” Gamble said.
“Good chance,” Finn answered.
“Anything you can do?”
“Not from here. Wick and I can go out, try to draw them away.”
“Negative, I don’t want to get split up more than we already are.” Finn waited in patient silence while she thought through the options. “We’ll hold here and hope the others get here first. Check that hall, make sure it’s secure.”
Finn gave an easy nod and moved towards the opening Cass had seen on their way in. Out in the open, the moonlight had been enough to navigate by, but beneath the overhang it was much darker. It didn’t bother Cass, of course, but she wasn’t sure how Finn was going to clear the corridor. He had his rifle up, pointed down the hall, but he hesitated at the entrance. A red light flicked on from somewhere alongside his weapon, bathing the corridor in a sinister hue. Low intensity, enough to see by without disturbing night-adjusted vision.
A necessary risk, and minimized, but still it made Cass nervous, knowing how little they could afford to draw any more attention to themselves. She didn’t bother to ask for permission. She patted Wren on the back, and then slipped down the wall towards the darkened hallway. Her motion caused both Gamble and Finn to look at her sharply, and Cass held up a hand to let them know nothing was wrong.
“I’ll check it,” Cass said to Finn.
“I’ll take care of it, ma’am,” he said, as Gamble joined them.
“Finn, I can do it without the light. It’s safer.”
“What’s going on?” Gamble asked.
“I’m going to clear the corridor,” Cass answered before Finn could speak. “I don’t need the light.”
Gamble just looked at her for a moment.
“Finn, kill the light.” Finn grunted in disapproval, but he switched the light off and lowered his weapon. “Back Sky for me.”
Finn grimaced, but he nodded and went over to take a position between Wick and Sky.
“Down to the end and back,” Gamble said. “I want to be sure we can get through there if we have to.”
Cass nodded. Gamble pushed something into her hand. Cass looked down. Her jittergun. “You know how to use it, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Cass answered, glancing back up to read Gamble’s face. She was focused and serious, but Cass thought she could see a hint of fear behind Gamble’s eyes. Cass couldn’t remember a time when Gamble had feared anything.
“Shouldn’t need it, but just in case,” Gamble said with a fleeting and unconvincing smile.
“Be right back,” Cass said. Gamble nodded, and Cass turned to face the entrance of the corridor. She eased her way slowly around the corner, carefully scanning it for any sign of trouble.
It was a concrete tunnel, smooth-walled and only about ten yards long, wide enough for maybe three people to walk shoulder-to-shoulder. It looked like it opened out into a similar configuration on the other side, into an open space beneath an overhang. There were a number of unevenly spaced gaps on either side of the hallway, though, and Cass couldn’t tell if they were shallow alcoves or additional corridors.
The weight of the jittergun and the texture of the grip was oddly comforting, and she looked down again at the stubby weapon in her hand. It wasn’t the same model as the one jCharles had given her long ago, but all the controls were basically in the same place. Memories returned: the air-rending buzz as it fired, the rapid vibration in her hand. The last time she’d used one of these, she’d been trapped in the Strand with Wren and Three. She’d killed a lot of Weir with it that night. But not enough.
Cass took a breath and gripped the jittergun a little tighter. And started down the corridor. There was debris strewn all along the floor. But no tracks through the rubble and dust. At least, no obvious tracks.
The first opening was to her right, and she moved as far to the left as she could. She brought the jittergun up with both hands and worked around the corner with cautious steps, not wanting to expose any more of herself than she had to. If there was anyone or anything in there, the first thing it was going to see was the muzzle of the jitter, followed shortly thereafter by its devastating payload.
It didn’t take long for her to see the back of the alcove. Not a corridor after all, for which Cass was thankful. Still, she moved carefully, carefully, arou
nd in an arc, making sure both corners were clear. There was nothing there but a couple of piles of debris that the wind had swept into the corners.
Cass continued down the hall, checking each alcove in the same fashion, taking nothing for granted. But they were all essentially the same. She reached the end without uncovering any surprises and became aware that her fingers were aching. She lowered the jittergun and relaxed her grip.
As expected, the corridor emptied out into a sort of three-walled room, a mirror image of the one where the others currently stood guard. Out across from her was an open area leading into another cluster of buildings. She stood there for maybe thirty seconds, carefully scanning for any sign of the Weir, but saw none. Satisfied they were secure, Cass turned and started walking back towards the others.
About halfway down the hall, a faint scraping noise sounded behind her, and made her stop dead. A gust of cold air funneled down the corridor and swirled around her. Had that been all it was? She couldn’t take any chances; she ducked into the nearest alcove and crouched down. Gamble was just at the end of the hall. Fifteen feet away. But Cass had to be sure.
She peeked out around the corner. There was nothing there. Not yet. Something in her gut told her to wait. And then sure enough, there – far out beyond the end of the corridor – a Weir crept into view. It croaked once as it moved down the open expanse between Cass and the buildings across from her. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be headed their way, and eventually it turned into another alleyway and disappeared.
Cass waited in her hiding place a bit longer, just to be safe, and then rejoined the others.
“Hall’s clear,” she said to Gamble. “A few alcoves, but they’re not deep. I saw a Weir across the street, but it was moving away from us.”
“Check,” Gamble answered, as she did so often. It seemed almost reflexive. “Can you pull security on that hall?”
“You mean watch it?” Cass asked.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
Cass looked over at Wren, still tucked into the corner. He was hugging his knees, with his head resting on top of them, but he was still watching everything intently. “How much longer?” she asked Gamble.
“Seven to ten minutes.”
Cass nodded and returned to the corridor, keeping watch. Under normal circumstances, ten minutes wouldn’t have seemed like much of a wait. But in that moment, Cass wasn’t confident they’d last more than five.
They didn’t even make it to three.
FIFTEEN
Cass realised that Finn must’ve picked up on something, because he moved before anyone else did. He grabbed a handful of Wick’s coat and dragged his little brother backwards almost into Gamble’s lap. Sky tensed up and withdrew from the edge of the recess.
There was a brief exchange of whispers between Wick, Finn, and Gamble, and then Finn was moving again. He motioned emphatically to Wren and Painter, shepherding them towards Cass. When they reached her, Finn moved down the corridor with careful steps, heel-toe, heel-toe, his weapon at his shoulder and his eyes no doubt focused on his aim point.
Sky was the next one in, and once he was past them, he motioned for them to follow. Painter went first. Wren stayed locked to Cass’s side.
Gamble came in behind them, and Wick was last in again. Cass instinctively started guiding Wren into one of the alcoves, but Gamble grabbed her shoulder.
“Stay where I can see you,” she whispered.
Cass nodded and hunkered down against the right side of the corridor, with Wren in front of her. She realized they were in essentially the same formation as they’d been in the alley earlier in the night. But this time, once Wick was in position, he had whipped the strap of his pack over his head and laid the cumbersome bundle on the ground behind him, along the alley wall, and then brought his weapon up. Wren pressed into Cass, and she drew him close.
When the first call came, its volume and proximity shocked Cass. Without a doubt, a Weir was not far from where they’d been standing just moments before. The answer, however, was far worse. A second Weir responded from the opposite end of the corridor. Cass tightened her hold on Wren.
Wick shifted backwards smoothly, silently, perfectly balanced – almost like he was on rails. He looked back over his shoulder and pointed to his eyes with two fingers, then held up his index finger, and then finally pointed towards the right of the alley entrance. It wasn’t difficult to interpret. He’d seen one, right around the corner.
Gamble bowed her head and held a hand in front of her face, and made a sound like an uneven exhalation or broken sigh. It took a moment before Cass realized she was whispering. Gamble looked back around Cass, and Cass followed her gaze. Sky was motioning with his hand; two fingers up, and then a signal Cass guessed meant moving this way.
Gamble gave an exaggerated nod, and then ducked her head and held her hand up again. She whispered something, but it was so low and breathy there was no way Cass could make out the words. The Weir on Sky and Finn’s end of the alley called out again. Much closer. On Wick’s side, Cass could actually see the shine from the Weir’s eyes at the entrance.
Wick eased his weapon down and reached behind him with his left hand. With a slow but steady pull, he drew a long-bladed knife from a sheath along his lower back. In the heavy silence, Cass could hear the Weir breathing around the corner, an eerily lifeless sound like wind through rusting pipes. Gamble made a little noise. And then many things happened at once.
There was a shuffling sound behind Cass, and the electric howl of a Weir was cut short by the hum of Sky’s rifle, followed quickly by a muffled burst from Finn’s weapon. In the same instant, Wick launched out of the alley and intercepted the Weir on his side just as it reached the corner. His left arm pumped like a piston as he drove the creature backwards, out of view. There was a heavy impact, and Cass knew Wick had slammed the Weir to the ground. Gamble flashed up with her weapon at the ready, moving towards Wick – and covering the distance with such practiced intensity it almost looked casual, even in its terrifying speed.
Cass snapped her head around and saw Sky and Finn violently rushing the other corner together, moving as a single entity. Then, all was still and silent. For a brief few seconds, it felt like all the world was holding its breath.
And then a chorus of electric shrieks sundered the night from every direction.
Gamble came flying back around the corner and caught Cass by the arm, pulling her to her feet. Wick followed closely after. He slowed only long enough to snatch the supply bag off the ground and throw it over his shoulder, then swept past the rest of them towards the other end of the corridor.
“Swoop, abort alternate, alternate is compromised. We are moving to contingency,” Gamble said, in an emotionless tone at complete odds with the chaos. She ushered Cass, Wren, and Painter all towards the far end of the alley where Finn and Sky were.
Cass grabbed Wren’s hand. “I say again, alternate is compromised, proceed to contingency. Warpath, warpath, warpath.”
Cass didn’t know what “warpath” meant exactly, but she had a pretty good guess; they were in trouble. As they exited the corridor, Finn grabbed Painter and locked him close to Finn’s side, controlling Painter’s movement. Sky covered their escape, his rifle pointed back down the hall. Cass heard it hum once and then quickly again as they raced across the open space and into the alleys across the street.
No one was concerned about how much noise they were making now. Wick plunged into an alleyway and Finn was right behind him, dragging along Painter with one hand and keeping his weapon at the ready with the other. Gamble kept a hand on Cass’s shoulder. Her grip was firm, and though it didn’t feel like she was forcing Cass any particular direction, she left no doubt where she intended everyone to go. Cass squeezed Wren’s hand in hers.
They weren’t running exactly, not even jogging really, but they moved so aggressively that Cass found herself occasionally having to surge forward a few steps to keep up. Wren kept up a
s best he could, though he stumbled several times and would have fallen at least once, if Cass hadn’t been holding his hand. After the third time, she finally just picked Wren up and carried him, doing her best to keep her gun hand as free as she could.
Further down the alley, a Weir hurtled around the corner and charged straight at them. Wick didn’t even break stride. He fired three times, pop pop pop, and hopped over the Weir’s body as it skidded towards his feet. Cass hazarded a glance over her shoulder and noticed Sky was nowhere to be seen.
“Eyes forward,” Gamble said, her voice even but full of intensity. “Just keep moving.”
“Where are we going?” Cass called.
“Wherever Wick takes us,” Gamble answered, and then switched over to comms. “Swoop, we’re in contact, what’s your location?”
Wick disappeared down an alley to the left and Cass heard a flurry of gunfire. Finn stopped at the intersection and pushed Painter up against the wall.
“Easy!” Painter said, but Finn didn’t seem to hear him. He braced his rifle against the corner of the wall and squeezed off two shots as Wick backed his way out, firing his weapon as well.
It happened so fast that they were already moving again before Cass reached them.
“Not that way,” Wick said as he resumed their initial path, leading them on without hesitation. Cass hazarded a glance down the left turn as she passed and saw four or maybe five Weir sprawled there, and one clambering over the bodies.
“There’s another–” she cried, trying to warn Gamble, but Gamble’s weapon was already up and firing.
“Wick,” Gamble said without missing a beat, “find us a place to button up.”
Wren clung tightly to Cass with his arms and legs, and kept his head buried in her shoulder. Not out of terror, though, or not just out of terror. She could tell he was doing his best to keep himself stable, taking some of his weight off of her arm so she could move better.
Up ahead, Wick exited the alley and slowed. Finn caught up and forcefully guided Painter into position between the brothers, one on each side. They moved together then, covering opposite directions. Cass cleared the alley and found that they were crossing a wide street. For the moment, there were no Weir in sight. Across the street, there was another row of decaying buildings. Wick made for a squat two-story structure. It had only one door and a small slot window at street level, both yawning with darkness.
