Morningside Fall (18 page)

“OK.”

“The backup is only for if you get cut off. You got it?” Gamble asked.

“Yeah, I got it.”

“If we had more time I’d have you pick two more.”

“I won’t even need the backup,” Kit said.

Gamble kept looking at her, but said, “Sky, our guest is going to give us a hand… yeah… yeah, she can do it. Front door. Anybody tries to get a bead on her on her way out, you drop him.” And then to Kit, “You sure you want to do this?”

Kit nodded with confidence, but she licked her lips as if they’d just gone dry.

“Alright,” Gamble said. “Pull your hood up. And run like all hell is on your heels.”

One of the trickier parts of Sky’s job was keeping track of all the targets; not just how many and where they were, but how they were armed, their estimated skill level, who was in charge. If the team was ever forced to engage, it made everyone’s jobs easier if they knew who the biggest threats were and where the bad guys were getting their orders from before the shooting started. Cleaning up the Weir was a lot easier. One was pretty much as good as another when it came to target selection.

“Finn, you still got two back there?” Sky whispered over their secure channel.

There were two clicks in the channel, the sound of Finn quickly opening and then closing his broadcast without speaking. The bad guys were so close he didn’t want to risk answering.

“You in trouble? Gimme one for yes, two for no.”

A pause. Then:
Click. Click.

Right now, there were six guardsmen prowling around the perimeter of Mister Sun’s Tea House, and Sky didn’t recognize any of them from before. In fact, he didn’t recognize any of them at all. He had eyes on four of them standing in a knot about thirty meters up the street from the Tea House. Two others had approached and disappeared around the back side. A few moments later, those two emerged from behind the building.

“Alright, I’m clear,” Finn said. “I think those two were doing a quick high-low.” Checking for entrances above or below street level.

“That’s a lot of attention for the night.”

“Might just be following up from before.”

“That’d be nice. You think so?” Sky asked.

“No.”

“Yeah.”

Sky had already identified the head man in charge, which he just dubbed Headman; one of those close-crop haircuts, square-jawed, perpetually angry guys who was so emphatic he had to use a fully opened hand to point at things instead of just a finger. Two of the other guards had coilguns, small sidearm-style jobs that usually went to low-grade officers. And at least one was toting something heavier. The last two were a couple of grunt-level foot soldiers, each carrying a stunrod.

Three officers and a specialist meant something more than just the average foot patrol. This was a unit. And they were loaded for bear.

Sky adjusted his optic and scoped each target in order of importance; Headman, Heavy, Coilgun A, Coilgun B, Footie One, Footie Two. If they were a seasoned team, he’d have to drop half before they broke. If he was lucky, he might just have to take the first two. He never counted on being lucky.

The six guards broke into three teams. Headman and Heavy stayed back while each Coilgun paired up with a Footie and started spreading out on either side of the building. But they were keeping some distance. Sky got the impression that they might be there more for observation and containment than an assault. Or they might be an advance force, staging before the rest of them got there.

“Gamble, Sky,” he whispered over comms. “I don’t think this is gonna work, Ace.”

“Nice timing,” she answered.

Sky flicked his eyes to the front door. A split-second later it slid open, and he saw a figure standing in the entrance. Straggler. Kit. She had her hood back up. Gamble had updated him about her, but as he watched her come down the stairs, Sky stood by his original assessment; she definitely walked like a dude. Why was Kit walking?

Coilgun A and Footie Two were the pair of guards closest to the front, and they reacted almost immediately, shouting and gesturing at Kit, Coilgun A with his hand on his holstered coilgun. She just kept right on walking, head down, like she had nowhere in particular to be. Sky scoped in on the Headman. He and Heavy hadn’t done anything yet, but they were intent on the situation. The other pair of guards had stopped in their tracks, but they were still far enough around to one side that there was no way Gamble and the others would be able to slip out unnoticed. Sky looked back to find the guard had his coilgun out now, pointed at Kit, and she had her hands up.

“What exactly were you expecting her to do?” Sky asked.

“Run. Why, what’s she doing?”

“Pretty much the opposite.”

Kit lowered herself to her knees, and then placed her hands behind her head. Footie Two had the stunrod out. He eased his way toward her while Coilgun A kept her covered. Sky was too high up to hear what was going on, but from the body language it looked like they were talking back and forth. Was she giving them up?

“She’s talking, Ace. She’s talking to ’em.”

Footie Two had stopped about six feet away from Kit, and he turned back to look at Coilgun A. Coilgun A turned back and motioned towards the Headman. He and Heavy started approaching. Sky started sighting in again. Headman, Heavy, Coilgun A. Hopefully the grunts would just scatter and at least
they’d
get to go home.

“Finn, can you get a bead on those two around the side?” Sky said.

“Stand by,” Finn answered. This was exactly how it wasn’t supposed to go. Both sides just doing their jobs, and people ending up dead for it. “Yeeeah, I can get ’em if they don’t move too much more your way.”

“Check, I’ll pick ’em up last if I have to.”

“We going?” Finn said.

“Not yet.”

“Alright, on your shot.”

“Check.”

Kit laid back her hood, and then pointed away up the street, back towards where Headman had been standing. What was she doing?

“Sky, status,” Gamble said.

“Bad, getting worse,” Sky said.

And just as the last word was leaving his mouth, Kit was in motion. It was tough to follow exactly what happened after she closed in on the grunt, but somehow she ended up with the stunrod. There was a burst of shouting and commotion, and Heavy stumbled back a couple of steps. Sky snapped his weapon up and sighted in on Heavy, just as the guard was shouldering his weapon. But something made Sky hesitate, something almost reflexive, too fast to consciously process. If Heavy had wanted to fire, Sky had just given him the chance. But neither of them had pulled the trigger.

And now Sky saw why. Footie Two and Coilgun A were both on the ground, out cold, and Kit had an arm around Headman’s neck, using him as a shield. She had the stunrod held up right in front of his face, and he’d gone real quiet. Heavy was tracking her with his weapon, but Kit was doing a good job of keeping the Headman between them. She started backing slowly up, towards the alley across the street from Mister Sun’s.

“I’m losing ’em,” Finn warned. He was losing his shot on the other two. But that was actually good news. It meant they were moving towards Kit, which meant they were moving away from the back door.

“I think she’s actually gonna pull this off,” Sky said. It wasn’t going anywhere near according to Gamble’s plan, but if Kit could just get clear…

“Sky, what’s going on out there?” Gamble said.

“Get ready to move,” Sky said. “On my call.”

Kit was walking backwards slow and steady, maybe fifteen steps from the alley. Twelve. Ten. Coilgun B had his gun out, but his angle was worse than Heavy’s. Footie One just kind of stood there, slightly behind Coilgun B, looking lost. Headman must’ve been talking, judging from the look on Heavy’s face, but Kit just kept retreating towards that alley. Sky was going to lose her once she made that corner, but he didn’t want to risk repositioning at such a critical moment. He just kept on Heavy, watching the man’s face through that optic. Heavy was intense, grim. A total pro. Just waiting for his opening.

“Let her go, man,” Sky whispered. “Let her go.”

If Sky could’ve talked to her, he would have told Kit to just keep backing down that alley until she could make a lateral move. Dump the Headman and take off before Heavy got a clean shot. Unfortunately, Sky couldn’t talk to her.

The Headman went limp, and then violently ragdolled forward, straight at Heavy. But Heavy leapt sideways and dropped to a knee, and got two shots off before Sky could reacquire him.

“Sky?” Gamble called.

“Go, Gamble, move!”

“Moving.”

The other two guards rushed over to the fallen Headman, and Coilgun B knelt beside him, checked for a pulse. From the looks of it, Kit had hit him with the stunrod and then tossed or kicked his body at Heavy. Heavy was still on one knee, at least. Kit was gone, somewhere down that alley. No way to tell from where Sky was whether she’d been hit or not. Judging from the fact that no one was chasing after her though, he had a pretty good guess.

“Sky, Finn,” Finn said. “Precious cargo is away. We need to roll out, brother.”

“Alright, check,” Sky answered. He gave one last look at Heavy, still in his sights. It’d be so easy. But now it’d just be revenge. Heavy stood slowly and advanced cautiously into the alley, weapon still shouldered. “Sky moving.”

Wren was trembling, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the cold, or the nerves, or a combination of the two. He felt it mostly in his chest, and no matter how hard he squeezed his arms into his sides, his ribcage just kept on vibrating like he had some kind of machine stuck inside. He pulled the hood up on his coat. It made it a little harder to see what was going on around him, but maybe that was OK. Wren was just focused on keeping near Mama anyway. And Wick. His job was to stay with Wick.

He hoped Kit was OK. He’d heard the shots, of course. But everything had happened so fast after that, and no one had mentioned anything, and he wasn’t supposed to talk or ask any questions. He’d always liked her, even though Wren didn’t know her very well. She’d been one of the first he’d Awakened, even before Mez, and she’d been the easiest to help. And now Mez was dead, and Luck, and now maybe Kit too. It seemed especially cruel, to him; like life had been twice stolen from them. The hollow promise of a second chance, snatched away.

The heavy quiet still seemed eerie, like the silence that falls after some background noise everyone had grown accustomed to suddenly goes away. And everything they did seemed too loud in it. Their footsteps, the jangle of their gear, even their breathing. Wren found himself breathing through his mouth, just to try to keep quiet.

The air was cold enough that he could just see his breath every once in a while, if he was looking for it, and there was enough light to see. For the most part, though, Wick was leading them through back alleys and narrow passages where the street lamps were fewer and the shadows were darker. If Wren had ever been down any of these paths, he certainly didn’t recognize them now. He wasn’t even sure which direction they were headed, except he assumed they were getting steadily closer to the wall. Wren also realized he had no idea how long it’d been since they’d left the Tea House. It seemed like they’d been walking a long time, way longer than it should’ve taken. But he remembered traveling with Three, and how sometimes when you were scared and tired, a few minutes could seem like an hour. And right now, Wren was a little scared, and really, really tired.

He bumped into Cass without even realizing he’d lost focus. Apparently they were stopping. A few steps ahead, Wick was crouched low, whispering something that Wren couldn’t make out. Wick turned around and motioned for them all to get low. Straight ahead looked like a brick wall, so they were either at an intersection of alleys, or a dead end. They waited in silence for several minutes, or what seemed like it anyway. Wren heard Gamble whisper, and then a few moments later Wick did too. Talking to each other, probably. It was strange, the way they communicated. Wick had called it their
secure channel,
but Wren didn’t know how it worked. It wasn’t like pimming, exactly, and somehow it didn’t
feel
the same. It sounded funny; tinny, with static. Low signal, low profile. Maybe it was something they had developed to avoid attracting the Weir when they were out beyond the wall.

Gamble and Wick took turns, whispering back and forth a few times, and then Gamble came up from the back of the line and crouched down next to Wick. Wren couldn’t help but wonder if something had gone wrong. They hadn’t seen any patrols, or really anyone for that matter, since they’d left Mister Sun’s. Whether that was because Wick was such a good pathfinder, or because Finn and Sky were out there somewhere helping guide them around, Wren wasn’t sure. But this was the first time they’d stopped in one place for this long. Wren’s legs were starting to go to sleep.

Finally, Wick moved forward and disappeared around a corner, but Gamble turned to face them and held up a hand, signaling for them to wait. She seemed to be listening intently for something. After another minute or two, she nodded.

“Alright, check,” she whispered. “Wren first.”

Wren didn’t like the sound of that. Gamble pointed at him, and then motioned for him to join her. He walked to her bent double, and his legs were all tingly from the long wait. When he got to her, she put a hand on his shoulder and her lips right next to his ear.

“We’re going to cross one at a time,” Gamble whispered. “Wick’s waiting around the corner. I want you to go first, OK?”

“OK.”

“Here, look.” She leaned Wren out a little so he could see around the corner. They were in a small T-intersection, and beyond it there was a wide stretch of open ground ending at the wall. Almost there. Gamble let him stand up straight again and then said, “Just run straight across. Wick’s waiting right on the other side, OK?”

“OK. You want me to run?” he asked.

“Yep, the quicker the better.”

Wren nodded.

“OK, Wick,” she whispered, “Wren’s coming across. Let me know when it’s safe.”

She smiled at him while they waited, but Wren wondered what she meant by
when it’s safe.
Did that mean it wasn’t safe now? Or were they just double-checking to make sure it was clear? He was still thinking that when she said, “OK, go, Wren!”

And the next thing he knew he was running, running out of the alley, and running across that wide stretch, and once he was in the open, it seemed a whole lot wider than it had before. And he knew he should just look straight ahead, but Wren couldn’t help it. He glanced to the side, just for a second.

Just for a second.

Maybe there was a crack in the concrete, or maybe the surface wasn’t as level as it looked. Maybe he was just too tired. Wren hardly had time to notice he had tripped before he felt his palms skid and his chin slam into the ground. The impact left him stunned and disoriented. There was a funny taste in his mouth, and Wren’s hands felt like he was holding fire. Everything was completely dark. Why couldn’t he see? And there was a funny drumming in his ears. It took him a few seconds before he realized what it was.

Footsteps.

Someone was running towards him. Wren was just lifting his head when he felt hands grabbing at his coat. Someone was picking him up. Running with him. He almost called out, but then he could see again, and Wren realized that his coat had gotten twisted and he’d been looking into his hood. And then they were at the base of the wall, and he was on his feet and someone was in front of him.

“Are you OK?” he whispered. “Wren, are you
OK?
”

It was Wick. Wick had come to get him.

Wren nodded. “I fell,” he said.

Wick smiled. “I saw.”

“I’m sorry, Wick.”

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Wick said, and then, “It’s OK, buddy. No harm done. Except maybe your chin there.” Wren touched his chin and it stung. His fingers came away wet.

Wick said, “We’ll get Mouse to take a look at you when we see him. You still got your teeth?”

“I think so.” Wren checked the inside of his mouth with his tongue and found a place that felt funny inside his cheek, like there was a piece of food stuck there that wouldn’t come off. “I think I bit my cheek.”

“Yeah, that was a good tumble. When we get where we’re going, maybe I’ll teach you how to roll, huh?” Wick smiled again and clapped Wren on the shoulder once. “Hang tight while we get the others across.”

Wick gently moved Wren closer to the wall, and Wren knelt down again, feeling stupid. He watched silently while Painter came across, and then Cass, and finally Gamble.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Cass asked.

He just nodded because he didn’t want to talk about it, even though his chin really hurt and the place in his cheek felt gross.

“Wick, go,” Gamble said, and then mercifully they were off again and no one had a chance to talk about the fall anymore. They moved along the wall and found a set of stairs that climbed in a switchback. Wren expected that they’d have to take them slowly, but Wick actually accelerated as they went up, and when they reached the top, Wren understood. Sky was already there waiting for them.

“Finn?” Gamble asked, and Sky just pointed over the wall. “Alright, good. Wren, come on, you’re up.”

Wren didn’t know what that meant, but he stepped over to Sky like he was instructed. Sky had on some kind of harness that Wren hadn’t seen before, and there was a loose loop of strap hanging off the front.

“Legs through here,” Sky said as he crouched down. The next thing Wren knew, a couple of pairs of hands were helping him get his legs in the right place, and then Sky stood up, and Wren went with him. “Hold on tight, Mister Governor,” Sky said. “And you might not want to look down.”

Sky sat back on the parapet and swiveled around. Wren had figured out what was going to happen, but he was still trying to work out exactly how – when Sky lurched, and it felt like the world turned upside down, and Wren shut his eyes and forgot everything but hanging on. There was a whizzing sound that started high and then got lower, and it felt like they were falling in slow motion. And then there were hands grabbing at him again, and Sky chuckled and said, “You can open your eyes now, sir.” Finn was there, and they were on the ground again, but outside the wall.

It took a few moments to get Wren unhooked from Sky. Once Wren was clear, Sky went back over and put a foot on the wall, and then all of a sudden went floating right back up, kicking off and bounding his way to the top. Wren watched him the whole way up, and he finally saw the thin cable that was connected somewhere high above.

“Oooh, what happened to your chin?” Finn said. “You bang it coming down?”

Wren shook his head. “I fell. Before.”

Finn nodded. “We’ll get Mouse to take a look at it.”

Wren couldn’t help smiling at hearing it again. “Wick said that too.”

“Yeah, well… he manages to get things right every once in a while.”

The whizzing sound started again, and Wren looked up. The others came down in a different arrangement, clinging to Sky’s back with their legs around his waist and their arms hooked around his chest. It didn’t look comfortable for anybody, but nobody said anything. Wren figured they were all just glad to reach the bottom.

Gamble came last, and once everyone was down, Sky had them move away from the wall. When they were clear, he fiddled with some kind of device near his waist where the cable was attached, and the line went slack and fell. The device whirred and the cable retracted into it. Wren didn’t get to see exactly how it all worked, because Wick had already started moving out, and Mama had pulled Wren along to keep pace.

The group formed up with Wick leading the way; and Finn and Gamble slightly ahead and to either side of Cass, Painter, and Wren. Sky caught up and trailed a little behind, forming the final point in a protective diamond around them. It was a few moments before it really sunk in for Wren.

He’d been so intent on the danger they faced in escaping Morningside, he’d actually felt relief once they’d touched down outside the wall. For a brief time, he had forgotten what lay ahead. But not for long. As they moved together into the dead cityscape, and the great wall of Morningside faded behind them, it dawned on Wren that they were leaving the realm of men – and walking straight into the arms of the Weir.