Morningside Fall (22 page)

“Yes, ma’am, I know. But I think we’ll be alright,” Gamble said. “I probably don’t
need
to stay up myself, but we don’t leave things to chance. Plus, the boys won’t sleep if they think no one is on guard. They’ll all just lie there listening for trouble.”

“You’ve got a good team, Gamble.”

“The best. But you’re a pretty good fit yourself, Miss Cass.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Well, you
did
forget a move call right there at the end. Otherwise, pretty tight for your first time out.”

Cass almost said it hadn’t been her first time out, but just smiled instead. She thought back on what it’d been like for her, back when she’d been part of a crew. “Is it hard for you?”

“What’s that?”

“Well… six men, you’re the only woman…”

“We’d have more,” Swoop said from behind them. “But we’re the only ones that can keep up with her.” He was just re-entering the courtyard. “Perimeter’s good. Doesn’t look like anyone’s been through this way in a while.”

“Check,” Gamble answered. “Go crash out. I want you on graveyard tonight.”

“I’m good, G. I slept a couple of days ago.”

“Get some sleep, Swoop, or I’ll put Wick on graveyard with you.”

“She’s a cruel mistress,” Swoop said to Cass. He moved off and found a spot to rest as ordered.

“He’ll sleep maybe an hour, and then he’ll insist on staying up all night,” Gamble said. “Sometimes I’m not sure he’s human.”

Cass smiled a little sadly. “I used to know someone like that.”

“You should rest too, Miss Cass. We’ll be plenty safe.”

“Thanks, Gamble.”

Gamble nodded again and crossed the courtyard to exchange quiet words with Mouse and Able. Cass’s eyes felt dry and a little too big for their sockets, and she thought she might just close them, even though she didn’t feel all that sleepy. She didn’t even notice when she started dreaming.

Wren felt something heavy on his back and gradually became aware of someone saying his name. It took conscious effort to get his eyes to open, but he eventually managed it. The brightness surprised him and made him squint. Someone was crouched next to him. Someone big. Several seconds went by before Wren remembered where he was and what was going on. Mama wasn’t there, though. He’d been using her lap as a pillow, but now her bag was under his head instead.

“Wren, buddy, can you wake up for me?” Mouse said. It was Mouse’s hand on his back. Wren forced himself to sit up, even though it seemed like gravity had tripled since he’d fallen asleep. “Sorry to wake you, but we’re going to get started here again in a little bit, and I wanted to take a look at your chin before we do.”

Wren nodded and yawned and rubbed his eyes. He thought about looking around to find his mom, but it felt better to keep his eyes closed, so he just sat there with them shut while Mouse looked him over.

“I’m going to clean it up, OK, bud?” Mouse asked.

Wren nodded again. A few seconds later, a cold shock made him grimace and pull away.

“Sorry, it’s probably going to sting a little.”

“It’s OK.” Wren clenched his jaw and tried to hold still while Mouse cleaned up the wound and assessed it. By the time Mouse had finished, Wren was much more awake but no more ready to start walking again.

“Seems like you’ve been getting roughed up a lot lately,” Mouse said. “You keep it up, I might start making you do this yourself.” He smiled and clapped Wren on the upper arm, knocking him a little sideways.

“Thanks, Mouse.”

“Sure thing, bud.”

It was about 11.00 GST by that point, and the morning had warmed pleasantly; still cool with the breeze, but good weather for long walks. They’d stopped for almost four hours, which seemed like a long time to be stopped, but not very long to sleep. Cass brought him some food and water, and Painter sat with him while he ate. Wren was glad of the company, even though neither of them spoke much. The rest of the adults were busy repacking the final bits of gear. They must’ve unpacked everything and redistributed it all while he’d been asleep, because everybody’s loads looked a lot more even now, and the two storage bags from Mister Sun’s were empty.

Once all the bags were prepped, Gamble came over to them carrying a couple of smaller packs. She set them on the ground in front of them. He’d never seen her so loaded down before. In addition to her pack, she was wearing a harness with multiple pockets across her midsection, along her hips, and even a couple of smaller ones that ran up the shoulder straps. They all bulged with hardware, though Wren didn’t know what much of it was for. Except the ammo. Seemed like Gamble had a lot of that. Though when he looked more closely, he noticed a couple of the magazines were empty. Not as much as he’d thought. Her short weapon hung across her chest on a sling, her jittergun was strapped to her thigh, and a long heavy-bladed knife dangled from her belt. Wren hadn’t noticed it until now, but all of them had blades of some kind, in addition to their other weaponry.

“You fellas about set?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Wren answered. Painter nodded.

“OK. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover today. I know you’re tired, but once we get where we’re going, we should all be able to rest a good while. You up for it?”

Wren got to his feet. “Yes, ma’am,” he repeated. Painter was a little slower to rise.

“Good. These are for you.” She slid the packs towards them with her foot. Able came over and joined them while Wren and Painter picked up the packs and put them on. At first, Wren was surprised by how heavy his was when he lifted it. Once he got it onto his back, however, he was even more surprised at how comfortable it felt. There were clasps at the waist and across the chest that Gamble fastened for him. The weight was noticeable, but didn’t drag at Wren the way he had expected. Then Able helped him adjust the straps to make it even more secure and evenly distributed.

“Each of you has a buddy,” Gamble said, while they were adjusting their packs. “Painter, you’re with Mouse. Wren, Able’s yours, of course. While we’re out here, your job is to stay with your buddy, OK? Go where he goes, do what he tells you to. Anything you do, you do with your buddy. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Wren said again. Painter just nodded.

“Alright,” she said. And then louder, “Alright, let’s spin it up, boys.” And everybody else started slinging their packs on with practiced fluidity.

Wren noticed there was a black tube attached to his pack that came over his left shoulder, with a funny looking knobby ending. It was clipped to the shoulder strap.

“Able, what’s this for?” he asked.

Water,
Able signed. He unclipped it and held it up in front of Wren’s mouth. Wren took it.
Squeeze this between your teeth to drink.

Wren put the knobby end of the tube in his mouth and bit down on it slightly. A surprising gush of water flowed out and made him choke and splutter. Most of it ended up down his chin. When he looked up at Able, Wren could tell he was trying really hard not to laugh.

It takes a little practice.

Wren wiped his mouth and chin on the sleeve of his coat and then clipped the tube back in place. After that, they joined the rest of the team in the middle of courtyard, and they all set off together.

The team spread out into its familiar formation. Wick led the way, Finn and Sky pushed out to the sides, and Swoop brought up the rear, forming an outer ring of defense around their protectees. They set a steady pace, but Wren found that it was not difficult for him to keep. He was thankful. Sometimes when he traveled with adults, they seemed to forget that he had to take two or three steps for every one of theirs. Most times.

The team maintained focus as they passed through the empty urban ruins, speaking rarely, eyes constantly scanning. Even so, it seemed to Wren like they were almost relaxed. Though once he thought it about it, it kind of made sense. They were used to being out at night when deadly things were literally out hunting for them. Probably walking through the ruins in the daylight was a pleasant change. And even if there were bad people out here, it didn’t seem likely that anyone would be dumb enough to try to start something with a group so obviously well-armed.

As it was, they saw no one else the entire day. They took a handful of short breaks along the way, but for the most part they made good progress with very little trouble. Only once did Wick decide to change direction and lead them in a detour. Wren wondered how it was that Wick never seemed to be at a loss for which way to go. It was almost like following someone around their own neighborhood. He rarely stopped to think, and when he did it was never for long.

By the time the sun was sinking towards the horizon, they’d reached their destination: a burned-out, partially collapsed structure. Wren actually wouldn’t have thought it was safe to go inside of if Wick hadn’t strolled so confidently through the gaping hole in the front. Even though the ceiling sagged enough in the middle, enough to make Wren nervous, Wick took them all inside and then did something with his hand to a place on the rear wall. A few moments later, there was a clicking sound and what looked like one of the exposed concrete support beams swung gently open. There was a metal staircase leading upwards into darkness.

It was a wayhouse, cleverly hidden within the failing structure. Wren gave another look at the bulging ceiling.

“It’s safe,” Finn said, seeing his concern. “It’s actually reinforced, though you can’t really tell from here. Clever bit of work, really.”

They all filed in. Wick came in last, closing the door behind him. The air was a little stale, but not foul, which was reassuring. Wren noticed the door made a rubbery sort of sound when it shut, like it was vacuum-sealed.

It turned out there weren’t actually that many steps. Someone activated the lights, and Wren was surprised at the size of the room at the top of the stairs. From where he was standing, it looked far too shallow for all of them to fit, and Mouse had to hunch down to keep from hitting his head on the ceiling. Swoop, Sky, Finn, and Mouse paired up and disappeared from view, two to the left and two to the right.

When Wren reached the top, he saw that the room was actually very wide, spreading out maybe four times wider than it was deep, with the staircase right in the middle. The four men had split off to check the wayhouse, he realised. Wren could see them moving quickly down the halls on either side.

There were no real rooms that he could see; just one long corridor with a few short walls jutting out every so often to form stalls. To his right, the feet of several sets of steel-framed bunk beds poked out from several of the stalls. Off to his left, the place opened out a little more, and Wren assumed that was probably where the dining area and bathrooms were. He hoped there were doors on the bathrooms.

“It’s clear,” Swoop called as he came back towards the rest of the group. “Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves.”

“Anyone been through recently?” Gamble asked.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“Doesn’t smell like it either,” Wick said. Wren looked up at him. “That’s actually a good thing. I’ve been in a couple that were
fuuunky.
” He held the word out for extra emphasis.

“Give it till morning,” Swoop said. “We ain’t exactly a bunch of sweet-smellin’ petunias.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sky said. “
I’m
as fresh as a baby’s bottom.” He tossed his pack on the floor in the stall closest to the entrance. “I call top bunk.”

“Just make sure it doesn’t squeak,” Finn said as he moved by, further down the corridor. Gamble kicked his backside as he passed. The others started making themselves at home, laying claim to various stalls by slinging their packs down. Gamble shepherded Cass, Wren, and Painter along the hall towards the beds. She stopped them at one a few down from the entrance.

“I’d like to put you two in here,” she said, indicating Cass and Wren. There wasn’t much to it. A set of bunk beds with thin mattresses, bare concrete floor, bare concrete walls. There was a single light fixture in the middle of the low ceiling. “And Painter, if you don’t mind, we’ll put you right next door with Mouse.”

Painter nodded. He looked exhausted. His goggles were down around his neck, and Wren could see the dark rings under his eyes, so dark they almost looked like bruises. Wren realized he couldn’t remember the last time Painter had actually spoken.

“Painter, are you OK?” Wren asked.

Painter looked at him and nodded. He inhaled deeply, like it was an effort. “Just r-r-really tuh-, really tired.” He gave a weak smile, but Wren got the impression there was something else going on.

“You go right ahead and sleep if you want,” Gamble said. “We’re here until morning.” Painter nodded again and wandered to the next stall over. “Same for you two. Rest and recover as much as you can, but feel free to do whatever you like. Just don’t leave.” She said the last part with a smile.

“Thanks,” Cass said.

Swoop passed by, on his way further down the hall. “I’m gonna rack out for a few.”

“Good,” Gamble said, and then a moment later called after him. “Make sure you eat something too.”

“You’re startin’ to sound like Mouse,” Swoop called back.

The remainder of the day was unremarkable for Wren. He and his mother ate some of their rations together in the dining area, on a wobbly steel table with mismatched chairs. Afterwards, he was so tired he just wanted to sleep. Cass helped him get ready for bed, which pretty much amounted to taking off his shoes and spreading his coat out on top of the mattress. Cass said she didn’t want Wren lying directly on that old thing. She kissed him on the forehead and then went and removed some things from her pack, so she wouldn’t wake him later. As Wren watched Cass, he saw her partially withdraw something and look at it for a moment.

She didn’t pull it all the way out of the pack, but he recognized the grip of Three’s pistol. She’d brought it along, even though he knew she didn’t have any ammunition for it. Maybe for her it was like his knife was to him. He didn’t really expect to use it, but he was glad to have it.

Cass glanced up and caught Wren looking at her. She smiled a little sadly and pushed the pistol back down into her pack, and finished whatever it was she had been doing. Then she came over and kissed his cheek again, and then switched off the light in their stall.

Wren wondered briefly if all the other lights and activity would make it hard for him to fall asleep, and that was his last thought before drifting off.