by Jay Posey
It was as they were crossing the roof back towards the stairwell that Lil finally pimmed Cass a simple message: “We’re coming.”
“Hold on,” Cass said to the team. “She says they’re coming. They’re on the way.”
“How long?” Gamble asked.
Cass asked Lil for an estimate, and communicated the reply. “Three hours.”
“And what’re they going to do when they get here?”
“Whatever you tell them to.”
Gamble thought for a moment, while the others stood by. “Mouse.” She waved him over, and they spoke together in lowered voices. “If we put him on a litter, can we move Wick out?”
“If we have to move him, yeah, that’s our best bet. But that’ll put us down three shooters.”
Gamble nodded. “You’ve got one?”
“Collapsible, in my pack, yeah.”
“You know when you whisper, I can tell you’re talking about me, right?” Wick called.
“We’re trying to decide whether to roll you down the stairs or just drop you over the edge,” Finn answered.
“Either one’s better than all this sitting around,” Wick said. He was trying to keep it light, but his voice already sounded thinner than usual.
“Swoop,” Gamble said, “how’s downstairs rigged?”
“Trip on the door, thirty-second delay off that on the stairs, plus another trip at the top.”
“How tough to rewire the door to a clacker?”
“Easy day… Unless they decide to come knockin’ while I’m workin’ on it.”
“Alright. Change of plans, gentlemen,” Gamble said. “We’re going to do some blockade running.”
“So, pretty much what I said the first time?” Swoop said.
“Yes, Swoop, you’re very smart, we should always listen to you, et cetera. We’ve still got to hold out three hours.”
Gamble quickly laid out the plan. Mouse, Sky, and the three principals would remain on the roof with Wick: Sky to relay information about the Weir and their movements, Mouse to keep an eye on Wick, and the others, Cass assumed, largely to stay out of the way.
Swoop, Finn, Able, and Gamble were all headed back down to the bottom floor to rewire the explosives. Or rather, the three of them would provide security while Swoop did the work. And if the Weir came while they were down there, they would try to make a withdrawal up the stairs while continually engaging.
“And if that doesn’t work…” Gamble said, looking at Cass with a flat expression. “Good luck.” She held out her jittergun to Cass.
“You keep it,” Cass said.
“Won’t do you any good if it’s on me and we get overrun.”
“Don’t get overrun then.”
Gamble extended the gun out further and bobbed it up and down, waiting for Cass to take it. Cass held her hand palm out, and then flipped it around. Her thin blades sprang from their housing under her fingernails with a snick. For a moment the two women just looked at each other. And then, with a sigh, Gamble returned the jittergun to her leg holster.
“I can come with you, you know,” Cass said.
Gamble shook her head. “Better up here. Puts four shooters top and bottom. Well… three shooters and Miss Fancy Nails up top, I guess.” She flashed a quick smile. “Back in a few.”
The four of them headed towards the stairs, but Finn stopped and jogged back. He knelt down by Wick and put his head against his brother’s, and whispered a few words. Wick gave a little nod and patted him on the cheek. Then Finn rejoined the others and they disappeared down the darkened corridor.
“What do we do?” Painter asked.
“I suppose we wait,” Cass said.
“And hope the Weir don’t get tired of just standing around,” Sky said. He gave a little nod and returned to his position at the edge of the roof. Painter went and found a place near one of the large ventilation shaft covers, where he could be in the sun, but out of the wind. He plopped his pack down to use as a pillow and stretched out on his back, with an arm over his eyes.
Wick, of course, was still sitting, propped against some of the packs, with his rifle laid across another one where he could keep it aimed at the door. Mouse grabbed two of the packs off the ground, one in each hand, and lugged them over towards the door. Cass guessed they were a good sixty pounds each, but he didn’t seem to have too much trouble with them. He swung the door shut with his foot, and then piled the packs in front of it, one on top of the other.
“Gamble, Mouse,” he said. “Door’s braced, let me know when you’re on your way back up.”
Wren had gone to join Sky by the roof’s edge. He had his hood up, and was sitting cross-legged next to him. Cass walked over and sat down beside her son.
They all sat in silence for a time, watching the Weir down below. As terrible as they were, Cass found that the fear they inspired was diminished by the broad daylight. Surely the darkness of night lent them some greater measure of terror. Even so, seeing so many gathered as one force was daunting. The thought of the battle that awaited them was not one she relished.
But at the same time, if what Wren said was true, if Asher was alive in some measure, and exerting control over those creatures, something stirred within her at the idea of doing all she could to destroy them. Asher had hounded them long enough, had caused them more than a lifetime’s worth of sorrow. Cass would do whatever it took to ensure that he would never reach Wren again.
And another thought hung like a black cloud in the back of her mind, one she didn’t even want to acknowledge. The great dreadful unknown that had haunted her since her Awakening: the fear that she might somehow revert to a mindless thrall of the Weir. Now, a new possibility arose, more nightmarish than any previously conceived.
If Asher had found his way into the Weir, was there anything preventing him from reclaiming Cass as well?
“Hey, Governor,” Sky said. “All those down there. Any chance you could wake any of them?”
Wren was still and quiet for a few moments – before he finally shook his head slowly.
“Yeah,” Sky said. “Just thought I’d ask. Makes me feel better if I know that before I have to shoot them.”
The comment lingered in the air, heavy with the imminent storm that awaited them all.
“Could you do it again?” Cass asked. “Could you send Asher away again?”
“I don’t know, Mama,” Wren said. “I wouldn’t know where to start.” She leaned forward so she could see his face beneath his hood, and his eyes were sweeping back and forth, as if searching for a solution. “It’s him. I know it’s him. But he’s different somehow. He seems… bigger.”
Cass didn’t know what to make of that. Though it seemed that she so rarely knew what to make of anything these days. She put her arm around her son, not knowing what else to do.
“I wish Three were here,” Wren said.
“I know, baby.”
Surely it was pure coincidence. But moments later, the Weir below erupted in a truly appalling clamor, an evil cacophony of short barking bursts. Wren instantly clapped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. Yet again, it was like no sound Cass had ever heard them make before. Even as she winced against the noise, her brain processed it all with the knowledge that Asher was behind it. And just as their strange call had become intelligible to her, this too she understood. It was the sound of a horrible mechanical laughter.
And she knew that Asher was mocking them. Taunting them. Toying with them, as was his way. Cass understood now. He wouldn’t breach the building. Not while the sun was up. He was content to keep them contained until dusk, when the full force of the Weir would be available.
Rage kindled in her heart. Not an explosive, violent anger, but a cold, hardened wrath. And as she cradled Wren’s head to her chest, she found herself no longer dreading the impending battle – but instead inviting it.
Sky was a patient man, but knowing his wife was downstairs with nothing but a couple of doors between her and all
that trouble made every minute into a test of his will and focus. Everybody had their jobs to do. His was to watch all those Weir in the street below. It was not his job to worry. But, well, he was worried. He just had to trust his teammates to do their jobs the way they trusted him to do his.
When Gamble and the others finally returned to the roof, everyone huddled up near the middle, where Wick was. As he joined them, Sky hoped his relief at seeing his wife again wasn’t too obvious. The team always gave him grief over it, but never as much as Gamble did herself.
“Gettin’ close to go time,” Swoop said.
“Yep,” Finn answered.
It’d been about two and a half hours since Lil had sent her first message. They’d already gone over the plan multiple times, with multiple contingencies, but they talked it through again anyway. It all came down to basically the same thing. Swoop had rigged the fused front doors with a heavy charge, laid out to disintegrate a good portion of the entrance and turn it into a massive shotgun blast. After it detonated, Gamble, Swoop, Able, Finn, and Sky would kill as many Weir as they could, while Cass and Mouse carried Wick out, and Wren and Painter made a run for Lil and her people. After that, it was pretty much react and hope for the best.
Not much of a plan, really. But then Wick always said a plan was just a list of stuff that never happened anyway.
At that point, they’d all done everything they could to prepare. Now it was just sit and wait.
“I’m going back to my spot,” Sky said.
“Don’t get too comfy,” Gamble answered, and then winked at him. He gave her a little squeeze and returned to his position at the edge of the roof, smiling to himself. The wink had given her away. He hadn’t been the only one worried.
When Cass received Lil’s pim a few minutes later, a swirl of emotion came with it; relief that help was near tempered by the thought of what it would take to reach it. Cass steadied herself with a deep breath, and then signaled to Gamble and passed the message along.
“They’re about twenty minutes out.”
The team all started moving at once.
“Finn,” Gamble said. “They close enough to hook in to the secure channel?”
“Yeah, probably, I’d guess.”
“Patch Lil in so we can talk to her.”
“Check.”
“And go ahead and loop our principals in while you’re at it,” Gamble said, glancing over at Cass. “This would be a bad time for communication to break down.”
A few moments later Cass responded to a connection request and found herself tied in to the team’s secure comms channel. Finn quickly talked her through it; it wasn’t much different than pimming, though the voices were tinny and had a little static to them. Much lower resolution than normal, and significant compression. Standing next to someone, she could hear a tiny delay between their real voice and the one through the channel. Cass guessed it all helped reduce their signature in the open, and maybe had additional layers of encryption.
“Alright, let’s get Wick loaded up,” Gamble said. “We’ll move into position in five.”
Mouse had already assembled his emergency litter, and he worked with Finn to get Wick transferred and strapped into it. Wick didn’t make any jokes about it, and didn’t put up any fuss, which worried Cass a great deal. While everyone else was making ready, she pulled Gamble aside.
“Let me go out first,” Cass said.
“Out of the question,” Gamble replied immediately.
“Gamble–”
“Cass, it’s not up for discussion. We’ve got a plan, we’re sticking to it.” Gamble turned to walk away, but Cass reached out and caught her arm. She gripped tighter than was strictly necessary.
Gamble looked down at Cass’s hand and then back up into her eyes. “I thought we covered this, Cass. Out here, I call the shots.”
“You don’t know what you’re up against, Gamble,” Cass said. “And you don’t know me. Not really.” Cass released Gamble’s arm, but she didn’t back down. “Asher will come for me, no matter what. If I go to him, it’ll give you time to gain some distance. You transfer Wick to Lil’s people, and then you’re back up to almost full strength. I can fall back to you then, and you can pick off the pursuit.”
“They’ll tear you to pieces, Cass. I can’t allow that.”
“I’m not going to let anyone else die for me,” Cass answered. “Not anymore.”
Gamble continued to stare her down, but Cass could see the wheels spinning.
“I’m not going to convince you otherwise, am I?” Gamble said.
“No.”
“And you’re not going to recognize my authority on this, are you?”
“No.”
“Should I even bother to offer you the jitter?”
“And the knife,” Cass said.
Gamble handed her the jittergun and slid the knife out of its sheath. It had a thick, heavy blade, nearly a foot long, and curving slightly forward. There were symbols etched along it, though Cass didn’t recognize them. Gamble flipped the knife in her hand and held the hilt out towards Cass. “This has been in my family a long time,” Gamble said. “I want it back.”
“I’ll deliver it myself,” Cass said. “Though I might need to clean it first.”
“See that you do.”
“Change of plans, boys,” Gamble called. She gave a curt nod, and then went to explain the new plan to the others.
Out of the corner of her eye, Cass saw Wren was standing off to the side, looking at her. She went to him, crouched down to his height.
“I thought you were going to carry Wick,” he said.
“I’m going to help a different way now,” she answered.
“I don’t like it when you fight, Mama.”
“I know.”
“It won’t be like usual.”
“I know.”
Wren looked at her with his fathomless eyes, weary and sad. But Cass saw no fear there. “I’ll help you if I can,” he said.
“You just run to Lil, baby. I’ll come to you when I can.”
He nodded, and then approached and wrapped his arms tightly around her neck. She hugged him back with everything she had. And hoped it wasn’t goodbye.
Afterwards, they all gathered their things. Swoop had stripped out some of the weight from their packs. It seemed a shame to leave perfectly good supplies behind, on the roof, outside a Weir-infested enclave, where no one would ever find them. But it seemed far more foolish to risk someone’s life over a couple of extra batteries.
They moved down to just inside the hall on the second floor. Gamble and the others had taken the time to check the rooms on that floor on their last trip down. Even that was closer to the blast than Swoop was comfortable with, but it was safe enough, and Gamble didn’t want to risk giving the Weir too much time to recover after the initial explosion. If they got stalled trying to get out of the door, that would be bad news.
Painter had taken over Cass’s spot carrying Wick, and Mouse had put him in the front, near Wick’s feet. Whether that was because it was the light end or because it would be less risky if Painter dropped him, Cass didn’t know. Able had taken charge of Wren, and would ensure that he made it safely to Lil.
Swoop and Gamble stood just behind Cass.
Lil called in and let them know they were a couple of minutes out. They were going to stay out of sight until the initial blast. No one was sure how the Weir were going to react once they showed up, and Cass wanted to make sure that the bulk of the fighting didn’t fall on them. As far as she was concerned, they were here to get Wren out, and as much of the team as they could. If they all made it, she’d consider that a bonus.
“Ready?” Swoop asked.
Cass gripped the knife in her right hand and the jittergun in her left. She drew a deep breath. Focused her mind. Asher was out there. Waiting. However many of them there were, they were all Asher to her.
“Do it,” Cass said.
“Fire in the hole, fire in the hole,” S
woop said calmly, just loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear. He squeezed a device in his hand three times, and then hell itself seemed to shake the building.
Dust leapt from every surface, and bits of concrete crumbled down the stairwell. Even two floors up, the blast vibrated Cass’s teeth and made her ears hurt. But there was no time to think. Swoop banged her on the shoulder with the palm of his hand, signaling for her to go, and Cass took off.
All anxiety melted away as she felt the surge of focus. She was on the ground floor without having registered taking the stairs.
Down the hall ahead of her was an opaque white and grey smoke, swirling where she knew a door once stood. Cass plunged through, heard the crunch of debris beneath her feet and knew she was through the front room and then out into the open. The smoke was dissipating in the steady wind, just enough for her to start making out the charred, twisted, and broken forms of the Weir who’d been caught in the blast.
For a brief moment, she wondered if – by some miracle – the explosion had killed them all. The hope was quickly dispelled by an electric scream from somewhere in the smoke ahead of her. They were coming.
The first Weir leapt from out of the smoke in front of her, just to her right, and Cass spun to avoid it and fired a burst from the jittergun into its back as it landed. A second lunged from her left, and she met it with a cleaving stroke from the knife, dropping it at her feet.
She could see them now, lurching through the cloud towards her, two here, three there, and a fury overtook her. She fired one burst, then another, and then leapt forward and drove her knee into the chest of an approaching Weir, before severing its head from its body. The knife flashed almost of its own accord, perfectly balanced, deadly with every stroke.
Weir closed in from the sides, and she met them head on, smashing her fist into one’s face and then whirling to shoot another. To her surprise, they seemed to be moving at almost half-speed, and Cass found herself anticipating their movements. One crouched back as if to pounce, and Cass stomped forward, crushing her heel into its face before it even started forward.
A quick spin and she took a leg just below the knee, and then came up and caught another Weir in the throat with the muzzle of the jitter. She squeezed the trigger as it stumbled back and didn’t even bother to watch it fall.
