Zhukov's Dogs (40 page)

The next two days passed by in an exhaustingly stressful, sleep-depraved blur. When we weren’t busy managing the evacuation process, gathering funds to bribe the train conductors to work quickly and quietly off the clock, and enlisting people to fight the Grey Men, we were training. It was like new recruit week all over again, like I’d been handed a fresh battalion of misfits and told to whip them into combat-ready state.

We split our early morning hours. One team would oversee the evacuation, leading civilians to the train station via back roads and staked out routes to avoid Grey Men patrols. The other team spent that same period of time running through the city, using main roads as little as possible to familiarize themselves with parts of the city the Grey Men might not know about, the sort of places which could be used as refuge or rendezvous locations if we got separated.

Around noon, we regrouped topside. The frozen city above was a much quieter and safer place to work on marksmanship. The dockworkers there were happy to help us by providing additional cold weather gear, training tips, and even setting up targets for us. Almost all of the dockworkers were Grey bastards—not like Val or Anya, but more like Tibbs or a small bulldozer. Naturally, they were some of the first people we recruited to join in the fight.

When we finished with target practice, we headed underground. After the Second Avenue fires died out, the city was darker and colder than ever before. Two days and the power was still out. An impenetrable wall of Grey Men surrounded the power plant by the canal as well as the generators in King Street Station, gunning down anyone who dared approach. Emergency lighting fixtures had been set up along the canal, and their generators grinded nonstop all hours of the day. Fritzi estimated evacuation nearing sixty percent by the end of day two, so while it was much easier to scour the city for food, it was also much eerier. Everything about the underground was beginning to feel like the city above.

With our energy restored, we set off in search of an empty factory or mill along the water where we could bunker down for the night. Those who were more than ready for combat, namely Tibbs, Val, and Fritzi, went to rally more support while I worked on close range combat with the others.

After one last dash through the city, we returned to the hideout for a round of advanced combat and to bunker down for the night. It was my favorite part of the day. We agreed it was our time to go all out, no restrictions save for a universal safety word. Tibbs was a powerhouse, Val like lightning, and Fritzi a clever combination of the two. Those who didn’t participate watched and cheered, sometimes placing bets, and we all went to bed afterwards too tired to stay up worrying about the impending threat from The Council.

For two days, we kept up the routine, hurrying the evacuation and counting the days until Operation Oxford. I was amazed how efficiently we managed to move people out of the city. The only people who would be left in the underground after tomorrows’ scheduled evacuation were either staying to defend it or too stubborn to leave.

As we sat gathered on the third floor of an empty distillery, the heat lamps taken from the ammunition factory forming a warm perimeter, Gemma mumbled, “Not long now.”

There was a quake of fear in her voice that Tibbs was quick to chase off. He clapped her on the shoulder, hooked his arm under her jaw, and pulled her into a noogie. “Until we kick the ass of every Grey Man in our city.”

“We’ll make this city ours before it’s all over,” Fritzi added with a laugh, pinching one of Gemma’s cheeks like she’d do to the children.

There had been a lot of talk like that over the last two days. They might have gotten ahead of themselves, planning for what happened after we got rid of the Grey Men and stopped the demolition of the pillars, but their enthusiasm was uplifting, and I found myself buying into it. “Governess Gemma. I can see it now,” I said.

Gemma giggled and waved her hands like she was trying to keep the title away from her. “Oh no, no. Nope. Not me. Never.”

“Well, someone has to run this place,” I said. “What would be your first order of business, Governess Gemma?”

“Appoint someone else to be in charge!”

We laughed until it hurt then each took turns being the governor of Seattle. Our decrees ranged from the ridiculous, like making Ice Cream Sunday a weekly holiday, to more the serious, long overdue changes. The metal factory doors slid open with a screech, our conversation abruptly ending as we all dove for a weapon.

It turned out to be Val and Benji returning from a late scavenge. From the look of the half-empty sack over Benji’s shoulder, their run hadn’t gone well, but we were happy just to have them back in one piece. Benji handed out square rolls of bread to the four of us who sat awake, while Val said, “Not much tonight guys. We’ll do better tomorrow.”

It wasn’t like Val to sound discouraged. Something must have happened. My protective boyfriend instincts had grown stronger every second I spent around him. Even when Val insisted he didn’t need to be doted on, I liked to think my concerns were justified. After all, there were an abundance of Grey Men swarming the city streets and only a day or two until the sky literally fell.

Benji fell into a spot across the circle from me. Between the two of them, Benji was the least likely to downplay what happened, so I asked him, “Run into some trouble?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Val shaking his head as he tied off the bag of supplies.

“Some Greys, but we shook them. It seems like there are more of them than usual out tonight,” Benji said with a mouthful of bread.

“Not hurt, are you?”

“We’re fine,” Val assured me, stressing the words. He tossed the rest of the supplies they’d collected into the corner and stretched his arms behind his back, vertebrae cracking as the tension between them released. Gemma shuddered at the sound and hid her face in her scarf.

“The Grey Men weren’t a big deal,” Val said. “It’s the temperature that’s brutal. I swear it’s dropped ten degrees in the last hour. It’s freezing outside.”

When he stepped over the perimeter of heat lamps and collapsed next to me, the cold radiated off his skin, and his teeth chattered. Freezing must have been an understatement. I leaned forward and snagged a blue blanket off the floor. Val took it and wrapped himself tightly. It took five minutes for his teeth to stop chattering, and in those five minutes, I’d managed to discreetly scoot closer to him.

“You’re not as sneaky as you think,” Val said under his breath so the others couldn’t hear over their own conversations.

I scoffed. “I totally am.”

Val smiled and slouched against the wall behind us. I followed, slipping an arm around his shoulders as he leaned into me. We didn’t need to be discreet about our relationship, anymore. Everyone around us knew we were together, and none of them were bothered by it, even when we locked hands or kissed in plain sight. There were far more pressing matters than our relationship anyway… But none I could focus on with Val so close. Those last few nights we spent, huddling around heat lamps, sharing blankets, and sneaking off after the others went to sleep, were the best I’d ever had.

“How’s your shoulder?” Val asked.

“I told you, it’s fine.”

Val didn’t believe me. The supplements the Y.I.D. provided me with had worn off, and I wasn’t healing as fast as I used to. Val had done a good job of cleaning and stitching the wound, though, and I still had morphine to help take the edge off.

We settled into comfortable silence, listening to the others discuss their plans for renovating the city. I kept expecting Val to jump in with great ideas of his own, but he seemed tired and content to just rest against me.

“I see Zoe got you,” he said with a nod toward the drawings poking out from under my sleeve.

I’d almost forgotten about the green squiggles. While Val and Benji were on their supply run, Zoe had drawn on all of us with her lunchbox-full of magic markers. Anya said she did it for luck anytime a big mission was coming up and personalized each one. Since finding out about me and Val, Zoe had warmed up to me, and I felt like she took extra time working on the red bird at the center of her masterpiece on my arm.

“You know, she finally spoke to me,” I said.

Val lifted his head off my shoulder, eyes widening as he asked, “Really? What’d she say?”

“Take care of my brother, Nik-Nak.”

“Nik-Nak.” He snorted.

If Val thought he could hold the nickname over my head, all I had to do was mention his full name to put an end to it. “Valery Grey,” I replied. We both silenced for a spilt-second, weighing who had a worse name, then laughed and conceded that they were equally terrible.

Val shrugged his blanket off and handed one end to me, an invitation to join him in the cozy bundle. I pulled the raggedy blanket over my shoulders and put my arm around him, pressing a quick kiss to the side of his head.

“For the record, I do plan on taking care of you,” I said, giving his frame a slight squeeze. Val smiled and rested his head against my shoulder.

I’d only just begun to nod off when a loud explosion woke the entire city and ripped tremors through the ground. Boxes, half-completed pieces of machinery on conveyer belts, and anything else not bolted to the floor toppled over. Light fixtures rattled and swayed overhead. I threw one hand over my head and pulled Val to my chest with the other to keep him shielded from whatever might fall.

Fall? No! Not yet, not yet! We still have one more day
.

The second the ground stopped shaking, we jumped to our feet and rushed from the factory to see what happened. If we did have one more day, one more day to evacuate the last of the people in the city and organize our troops, then I must have been dreaming the cloud of dust rising from between the buildings only blocks away. My eyes followed the cloud to the ceiling where moonlight, debris, and snow poured in through the gaping hole left by one of the Oxford pillars.

People filled the streets, staring up in wonder. They raised their hands and wound their fingers through the moonlight. For so many, this was their first time seeing pieces of the world above ground, and it distracted them from the oncoming cataclysm.

I turned to Val and took hold of the sides of his face. “Listen to me,” I said, pulling his gaze away from the ceiling and directly into mine, “Run to the docks. Tell the Greys up there it’s starting, and we need them down here now.”

“What? No! I’m more useful down here.”

I shook my head and reminded him, “You’re the fastest one here. Run. Run and bring back as many of them as fast as you can.”

“We’ll get the mill workers that are still awake and have them rally everyone else,” Gemma said with a tug on Benji’s sleeve. The two of them took off while Tibbs passed around weapons and ammunition, instructing Anya to take the children into the basement of the distillery we’d been hiding in. Val still hadn’t budged. Even with everyone else preparing for the worst, he remained completely still.

“Go. Now. We’ll be here when you get back,” I said, doing my best to sound both stern and reassuring. I didn’t doubt we’d be there when he came back; I just wasn’t sure there wouldn’t be a frozen city crushing us. We had to try, though.

I leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss against his mouth. Val snapped out of his stupor, gripped my shoulders, and kissed back with urgent desperation.
Absolutely not a goodbye kiss. Absolutely not,
I had to tell myself when it ended too soon. We broke apart, and Val took off down the street. I watched him disappear around the corner as Fritzi handed me a gun.

“Think you can focus?” she said in a bitter tone, bothered that my attention was elsewhere. I recognized the feel of the gun—it was my own—and I cycled through the usual checkpoints without even needing to look at it.

Fritzi seemed satisfied and even gave me a small smile. “You guys are cute… Makes me sick.”

It was the closest thing to a compliment she’d ever given me. “Thanks, Fritz.”

With Fritzi, Tibbs, Finn, and Michael in company, I set off for the site of the collapsed pillar. Frigid wind whipped through the fissure in the ceiling and whistled through the city, dropping the temperature by the second. We made it a block before the ceiling groaned and splintered above.

I threw my hand out to the side and shoved the others out of the street, following them under a sturdy carport as large chunks of ceiling broke free. Masses of earth and cement crashed into the street, plummeting through homes, leaving craters in their wake, and sending the entire city into a screaming panic.

“Will it hold up?” Michael asked.

Tibbs nodded and said, “Benji said it’ll take four or more to bring it all down.”

Just as he finished the sentence, another explosion erupted through the night, much closer this time. We fell as the ground shook, my ears ringing from the tremendous noise. In the distance, no more than four blocks away, I could see another Oxford pillar crumpling.

“That’s two!” screamed Finn. While the rest of us were already on our feet, he remained huddled over, clutching the ground.

Fritzi grabbed his collar and yoked him to his feet with a stern, “All the more reason to not snivel like a baby.”

“Fritz is right,” Tibbs said, clapping his massive hands together. “Split up, head for the remaining pillars, and defend them with your lives! Reinforcements will be here soon!”

Tibbs took off faster than I’d ever seen him run, Fritzi bolted off in the opposite direction, and Michael ran to find his own pillar after suppressing his nerves. Finn, however, merely stood there, stoic, gripping his rifle with both hands. His face was pale, and his jaw quivered as he stared straight ahead in shock.

“Finn!” I gave him a quick smack across the face.

His eyes shifted into focus, and he stared at me, practically begging to be saved. Finn wasn’t a soldier. He wasn’t brave, but tonight he had to be. “I can’t do it,” he stammered. A sob left his mouth, and his whole body shook. “I can’t!”

“Yes, you—”

“NO!” Finn screamed, collapsing to the ground like the pillars we were supposed to be defending. His hands shot up to yank at the unruly curls on the side of his head. One wet sob followed another, and soon he was reduced to a quivering mess.