by Jay Posey
Behind them, Mouse helped Wick to his feet, and looped Wick’s right arm over his shoulders.
“Lean on me, let me do most of the work,” Mouse said. “And try to keep that left arm as stable as possible.”
“Alright,” Wick said.
“You let me know if you start feeling weak, dizzy, or like you can’t catch your breath.”
“I feel like all that right now.”
“Then let me know if it gets worse.”
“Alright.”
They all started up the stairs together, Gamble leading the way, cautiously leading with her weapon. Cass came right behind, with Wren by her side. Painter followed them. Mouse and Wick brought up the rear.
The stairwell was plain: bare concrete floor and stairs, a simple iron railing. Vertical slot windows were spaced every so often, lending enough light to see by, but they were too narrow to give any meaningful view of what was going on outside.
Down below them, Finn started laying out charges and some other devices Cass hadn’t seen before, while Swoop went to work rigging them up on the first set of stairs. Cass had never been around so many explosives before, and she found it wholly unnerving, even as much as she trusted Swoop as an expert.
“Hey,” Gamble said, calling back down to Swoop and Finn. “Make it good enough, not perfect. I don’t want you fiddling around down here.”
“Ain’t the kind of thing you rush, G,” Swoop answered.
“We’re more spread out than I like already. I don’t want you guys getting cut off.”
“Go on,” Finn said. “We’ll be right behind you.”
Gamble looked like she was about to say something else, but instead she just nodded and resumed leading them up the stairs. Once they got to the top of the second floor, she said in a lowered voice, “Sky, we’re coming up.”
She kept her weapon up and swept the angles as they presented themselves, constantly vigilant for any sudden threat. Each floor was virtually indistinguishable from the others. At each landing, the stairwell connected to a long, dark corridor with doors on either side.
As they passed each one, Cass tried not to think about Gamble mentioning how they didn’t have time to clear the whole building. There was no telling who – or what – might be lurking down any one of those halls, or behind any one of those doors. The fact that they hadn’t heard or seen any signs of danger gave some small comfort, but the memory of the cascade of Weir pouring out of that building was still too fresh.
They took their time climbing the stairs, not wanting to rush Wick, not daring to get separated. Though it wasn’t really that far to climb, by the time they reached the top floor, Cass’s legs were starting to burn from all the weight she was carrying, combined with the slower pace.
Beyond the ninth floor, the stairwell extended up in a fully enclosed corridor, like a toppled chimney. There were no windows, and Cass knew for the others it must have seemed an overwhelming darkness. At the top there was a single door, which she assumed led out onto the roof.
Gamble halted at the bottom of the steps, and flicked on the red light affixed to the underside of her gun. “Sky, we’re coming out.”
She led them up the final flight of stairs, and swung the door open. The flood of sunlight overwhelmed Cass completely, and everyone shielded their eyes. When they made it out onto the roof, Able was waiting for them there by the door. Cass drew her veil down. When her eyes finally adjusted, she saw Sky set up at the edge of the roof, facing the enclave.
The roof itself was flat, with a few industrial-grade vents – and large dormant machinery of unknown purpose – clustered near the center. Here and there were scattered broken remnants of once-useful things. Cass guessed anything of value had long ago been scavenged by the residents of Ninestory. Or rather, by the former residents.
The team piled their gear by the rusted machinery. Mouse eased Wick to a sitting position, leaning back against their packs and facing the door. Wick was pale, his face slick with a thin sheen of sweat. His breathing seemed shallower and more labored than it had before, and Cass hoped it was just from the exertion of the climb. Mouse knelt next to him and checked his vitals. He didn’t look happy with the results.
Cass walked across the roof to join Sky and Gamble at the edge. The wind was up, chilly even in the full sun. She flipped up the collar of her coat to keep it off her neck. As she crossed, she was amazed by the commanding view the roof provided of the surrounding cityscape.
It was the tallest building for miles around, and even though it wasn’t all that high compared to many places she’d been before, the unbroken urban sprawl that surrounded them made Cass feel like they were on an island mountain amidst a concrete sea. What she saw when she reached the edge, however, took her breath away.
Far below, what looked like hundreds of Weir teemed throughout the enclave and the surrounding area, swarming like insects from an overturned nest. Just in front of the building, however, a stationary knot of them had formed. Most of the ones in motion didn’t seem to be following any particular pattern, but whenever an individual drew near the cluster, it quickly diverted its path to join the group, like iron filings collecting around a magnet. Even stranger, they had all gone utterly silent.
“I just don’t understand it,” Sky said, as he watched the creatures scurrying below. “They wiped out the whole enclave?”
“Looks that way,” Gamble said. “And then took it over.”
“I’ve never heard of that happening before. Ever.”
“Me neither. Like Swoop said, I hadn’t really thought about where they went after dark. Never would’ve guessed that, though.”
Everything about it seemed wrong. Even more wrong than usual. Cass thought back to the night they’d attacked the gate of Morningside. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something about the Weir had changed. Something significant. Something dire.
“You think they can see us up here?” Sky asked.
“Tough to say,” Gamble said. Then she looked at Cass. “What do you think, Miss Cass?”
Cass stared down over ninety feet. Even through her veil, the sunlight affected the details she could make out like a thin mist.
“I’m not sure if they see the same way I do,” she said. “But I can make out the shapes fine, just not much detail.”
“I didn’t think they’d come out in the daylight,” Sky said.
“They usually don’t on their own. It isn’t natural,” Gamble said.
“Nothing about them is,” Sky replied. He gave Cass a little look out of the corner of his eye right after he said it, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, or he was afraid she’d take it the wrong way, but Sky didn’t say anything else.
“I think Wren’s right,” Cass said. “They know we’re in the building. But I have no clue what they’re doing about it.”
“Never known them to be much for planning,” Mouse said from behind them. He came up and stood next to Cass, between her and Gamble.
“How’s Wick?” Gamble asked.
Mouse shook his head. “I’m worried.”
“You’re always worried when someone’s hurt,” Sky said.
“Not like this,” Mouse answered. “I think he’s got some internal bleeding. Lots of ways for that to be real bad, and most of ’em I can’t do anything about out here. Could go into hypovolaemic shock, might be fluid leaking into his chest cavity…” He shook his head. “Even if it stops on its own, things get too heavy, his blood pressure could drop to critical.”
“So, what’re you saying?” Gamble asked, and the fear was evident in her voice, no matter how much she was trying to control it.
Mouse wouldn’t look at her. He just kept staring down at all the Weir below. “I’m saying we don’t all get out of here without some kind of miracle.”
“Finn know?” Sky asked.
“Not yet.”
“How about Wick?”
“He knows he’s in trouble. Pretending he’s not.”
They all st
ood in silent thought after that, each no doubt running through the scenario from every angle they could think of, looking for a good solution. Nothing was presenting itself to Cass. It’d never occurred to her that any of Gamble’s team might not survive, not really. Up until now, they’d all seemed invincible. But now, in that moment, everything became entirely too possible.
And then the Weir broke the silence.
“Spshhhh. Naaaah.”
The call, or chant. Worse this time. A chorus in perfect unison from every single Weir in that cluster.
“Spshhhh. Naaaah.”
The Weir stood down below, packed tightly together, staring up at the roof. Stragglers continued to join the cluster. And as they did, they each took up the call. They were packed so closely together it was almost impossible to get a count on how many there were, but Cass estimated a hundred or so.
“What is going on down there?” Sky said.
“I don’t know, but I hate it,” Gamble said.
“Can I start shooting?”
“Not yet.”
“Spshhhh. Naaaah.”
“I know what it is,” Wren said from behind them. Cass hadn’t even heard him walk up. They all turned and looked at him. He was standing just a few feet away, eyes wide and glassy, even paler than usual. “I know what it is, now.”
“Spshhhh. Naaaah.”
“What is it, baby?” Cass asked, knowing in her heart whatever the answer was, it would be more frightening than the uncertainty.
He looked at her with absolute despair.
“They’re saying ‘Spinner’, Mama. They’re saying my name.”
Cass involuntarily grabbed Mouse’s arm. He in turn caught her arm in reflexive support, but she knew that he didn’t understand what Wren was saying. None of the others did. But now that Wren had made the connection, she knew he was right, no matter how much she wanted to deny it.
“Spshhhh. Naaaah.”
She could hear it too, now. The electronic squall was no longer just bursts of white noise. Instead, inhuman voices mimicking human speech.
“What?” Sky said.
“What are you talking about, Wren?” Gamble asked.
Wren walked closer to the edge and peered down. “It’s Asher. He’s in the Weir.”
TWENTY
Cass regained herself and let go of Mouse’s arm, and his grip on her relaxed, though his hand lingered protectively. She went down on a knee next to her son, spoke in a low voice.
“It can’t be, Wren,” Cass said. “Asher’s gone. You sent him away.”
“But sent him where, Mama?” he asked, not looking at her. She didn’t have an answer.
“I don’t understand,” Gamble said. “You mean your brother’s one of them down there?”
Wren took another step closer to the edge of the building, but Cass reached out and grabbed his shoulder. He stopped in place, just stared down at the crowd of Weir still chanting below.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “He’s all of them.”
It was almost too much to comprehend, the very idea too much to bear. After the events in Underdown’s throne room, when Wren brought Cass back to herself and Three lay dying, Asher had been there on the floor. At least his body had been. His eyes had been open, fixed and staring, but there had been no life in him. It hadn’t been any use asking Wren what he’d done to his half-brother; he didn’t exactly know himself. But as terrible as Asher had been, and as dangerous, Wren had still never really forgiven himself for taking Asher’s life.
I just wanted him to stop, was all he would say.
Could it be that somehow, in some way, when Asher’s mind had been cast out of his body, he hadn’t truly been destroyed? Cass looked down at her hands, the slender fingers with their metal blades beneath the nails. There had been a time before that she could’ve believed it impossible. No longer. As shocking as it was for her mind to accept, she found she didn’t need to fully understand it to find herself believing.
“Spshhhh. Naaaah.”
“What’s ‘Spinner’?” Sky asked. “What does that mean?”
“It’s what Asher used to call Wren. Before,” Cass explained. “They called us different names.”
“So you’re saying your dead brother is controlling those things down there?”
Wren nodded.
“How do you know?” Gamble asked.
“I can feel him,” Wren said.
In the street below, the cluster of Weir remained pressed together. Others still wandered in and around the enclave, but no more joined the group. A number of them even seemed to be returning to the buildings from which they had come.
“He’s different,” Wren said, after a moment, “…but not.”
“What does that mean for us?” Mouse asked.
“Nothing good, I’m sure,” Gamble said. “But for now the situation hasn’t really changed, has it? I mean, if we kill all of ’em, will that be the end of it?”
“I don’t know,” Wren answered. “I don’t think so.”
There was noise back behind them, across the roof, and Cass turned to see Finn and Swoop rejoining the team. Both went immediately to Wick. Finn crouched down beside his brother. Swoop remained standing and seemed to exchange a few words with Wick, before heading over towards Gamble and the rest of them.
“How we lookin’?” Swoop asked.
“Not good,” Gamble said.
Gamble gave Swoop the rundown, as much as she could. There wasn’t really any good way to try to describe or explain what was going on with the Weir. Swoop took it all in with his usual stoicism.
“What about the rest of ’em?” Swoop asked.
“What do you mean?” Gamble said.
“Looks like about a hundred or so down there. Why aren’t they all together?” he asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Maybe he can’t control them all,” Wren said.
Finn and Able joined the group.
“Who’s on the door?” Swoop asked as they approached.
“Wick’s got it,” Finn said.
Swoop glanced at Mouse, but Mouse didn’t say anything.
“I know he’s in trouble,” Finn said, replying to the look. “He’s hurt, not dead. He’s got the door. So what are we doing?”
Everyone looked at Gamble.
“If anyone’s got ideas, now’s a good time,” Gamble said.
Swoop started off. “Blow the door. Shoot the rest. Make a run for it.”
“We’re not running,” Mouse said. “Not with Wick in the shape he’s in.”
“We can start picking them off from up here,” Sky said. “See how many we can get through.”
Gamble shook her head. “We’re not going to kill a whole town’s worth. Not before sundown.”
“I’m light on ammo anyway,” Finn said. “How about you all?”
“Same,” Swoop said.
Able waggled his hand, indicating he still had some, but not as much as he’d like.
“No chance they’re going to leave us alone, I guess,” Mouse said.
“Wouldn’t count on it,” Gamble said.
“We could go back in, start reinforcing floor by floor,” Finn said. “Start at the top, work our way down. See how far we get before they come. Try to get them choked up in the tight spots.”
“Take it to blade-work then,” Gamble said.
Finn nodded. “Haven’t had to reload one yet.”
Everyone stood silently considering. It would be hours of work, clearing and reinforcing each floor. And there was no telling when the Weir might actually launch their attack. For now they seemed to be content to stand out front, but Cass didn’t expect them to remain that way. Certainly when night came, the enclave would empty, and the full strength of the Weir would be upon them. And then they would have to fight until morning.
Images from the battle on the night they escaped Morningside flashed through her mind. They would never last.
“What about Lil?” Cass said.
“What about her?” Gamble replied.
“I could pim her. Maybe they could help.”
“I don’t see how,” Swoop said.
“I know they don’t look like much,” Cass answered, “but they lived in the open – in a village without walls – for years. They’re fighters.”
The team exchanged looks. Cass didn’t know what other options they thought they had. The sun was high, nearly noon already. “And they’re the only ones close enough to do anything.”
“Might not be time enough for them to get here and us to all make it back,” Finn said.
“Then we should probably ask them to get started now,” Cass said.
Can’t hurt to ask, Able signed. Maybe they know something we don’t.
Gamble gave a little nod. “Alright, do it.”
Cass pimmed Lil. She explained the situation as best she could, hoping to impress upon her how much trouble they were in – without making it sound like she was inviting them to certain death. After hearing it all, Lil told Cass she would talk to her people and see what they could come up with.
“She’s going to get back to us,” Cass told the others.
Five minutes passed. Ten. In the street below, the Weir remained pressed together, but they had thankfully given up their chant. The others had disappeared. Cass guessed they’d all returned to the shelter of the enclave. Mouse went to check on Wick again, and the rest of the team split time between watching the Weir and standing around restlessly.
Fifteen minutes. Still nothing.
“They’re not coming,” Swoop finally said. “And we’re losing on our own time here. I’m with Finn. Reinforce what we can, pull a staged retreat. Take as many of ’em as we can.”
“Roof as a final fallback,” Finn said. “Only one way up. Maybe we can choke the stairs with their dead. Make ’em change their minds.”
“If we blow the lower stairwell, we might be able to hold them there for a while.”
“How long do you think it’ll take to set up?” Gamble asked.
“Pretty much as long as we have,” Swoop said.
“Then let’s get started. Sky, keep eyes on, let us know if there’s any change. Mouse, stay close to Wick. Cass, Painter, I’m going to need you to come help.”
