Jay Posey - Morningside Fall

The calls of the Weir were coming almost on top of each other now, from all directions. At least that’s what it seemed like to Cass. With the way the walls carried the sounds and the echoes, it was impossible to accurately judge numbers, distance, or location. But Cass felt the hair stand up on her neck and knew they were walking a knife’s edge. She could feel the Weir, in a way. A kind of wild pressure, like the tension in the air just before a violent storm.

Wick took them down a short side street and then ushered them quickly across a narrow gap between buildings and into a deep recess under an overhang. At first glance, it looked something like a concrete U, and Cass didn’t much care for the idea of getting boxed in. But on closer inspection, she saw a narrow opening near the center. She didn’t have time to see much more, though. With a single aggressive hand gesture, Gamble directed her, Wren, and Painter to crowd back into the left-most corner.

Cass obeyed immediately and instinctively crouched down, though she didn’t really know why. It just seemed like the right thing to do whenever they stopped moving. Wren slid in next to her, and Painter flopped down beside them. He leaned back against the concrete wall and closed his eyes.

Wick and Sky remained near the entrance of the alcove, each on a knee and weapons shouldered. Scanning for targets. Behind them, Gamble and Finn stood next to each other in conference.

“Swoop, Gamble,” Gamble said in a low voice. “Status…? Check. We’ve reached the alternate rally. It’s pretty sporty out here. How is it your way…? Got an estimate…? Alright, check. See you in a few.”

She looked up at Finn. “Think they’ve got a line on us?” Gamble said.

“Good chance,” Finn answered.

“Anything you can do?”

“Not from here. Wick and I can go out, try to draw them away.”

“Negative, I don’t want to get split up more than we already are.” Finn waited in patient silence while she thought through the options. “We’ll hold here and hope the others get here first. Check that hall, make sure it’s secure.”

Finn gave an easy nod and moved towards the opening Cass had seen on their way in. Out in the open, the moonlight had been enough to navigate by, but beneath the overhang it was much darker. It didn’t bother Cass, of course, but she wasn’t sure how Finn was going to clear the corridor. He had his rifle up, pointed down the hall, but he hesitated at the entrance. A red light flicked on from somewhere alongside his weapon, bathing the corridor in a sinister hue. Low intensity, enough to see by without disturbing night-adjusted vision.

A necessary risk, and minimized, but still it made Cass nervous, knowing how little they could afford to draw any more attention to themselves. She didn’t bother to ask for permission. She patted Wren on the back, and then slipped down the wall towards the darkened hallway. Her motion caused both Gamble and Finn to look at her sharply, and Cass held up a hand to let them know nothing was wrong.

“I’ll check it,” Cass said to Finn.

“I’ll take care of it, ma’am,” he said, as Gamble joined them.

“Finn, I can do it without the light. It’s safer.”

“What’s going on?” Gamble asked.

“I’m going to clear the corridor,” Cass answered before Finn could speak. “I don’t need the light.”

Gamble just looked at her for a moment.

“Finn, kill the light.” Finn grunted in disapproval, but he switched the light off and lowered his weapon. “Back Sky for me.”

Finn grimaced, but he nodded and went over to take a position between Wick and Sky.

“Down to the end and back,” Gamble said. “I want to be sure we can get through there if we have to.”

Cass nodded. Gamble pushed something into her hand. Cass looked down. Her jittergun. “You know how to use it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cass answered, glancing back up to read Gamble’s face. She was focused and serious, but Cass thought she could see a hint of fear behind Gamble’s eyes. Cass couldn’t remember a time when Gamble had feared anything.

“Shouldn’t need it, but just in case,” Gamble said with a fleeting and unconvincing smile.

“Be right back,” Cass said. Gamble nodded, and Cass turned to face the entrance of the corridor. She eased her way slowly around the corner, carefully scanning it for any sign of trouble.

It was a concrete tunnel, smooth-walled and only about ten yards long, wide enough for maybe three people to walk shoulder-to-shoulder. It looked like it opened out into a similar configuration on the other side, into an open space beneath an overhang. There were a number of unevenly spaced gaps on either side of the hallway, though, and Cass couldn’t tell if they were shallow alcoves or additional corridors.

The weight of the jittergun and the texture of the grip was oddly comforting, and she looked down again at the stubby weapon in her hand. It wasn’t the same model as the one jCharles had given her long ago, but all the controls were basically in the same place. Memories returned: the air-rending buzz as it fired, the rapid vibration in her hand. The last time she’d used one of these, she’d been trapped in the Strand with Wren and Three. She’d killed a lot of Weir with it that night. But not enough.

Cass took a breath and gripped the jittergun a little tighter. And started down the corridor. There was debris strewn all along the floor. But no tracks through the rubble and dust. At least, no obvious tracks.

The first opening was to her right, and she moved as far to the left as she could. She brought the jittergun up with both hands and worked around the corner with cautious steps, not wanting to expose any more of herself than she had to. If there was anyone or any thing in there, the first thing it was going to see was the muzzle of the jitter, followed shortly thereafter by its devastating payload.

It didn’t take long for her to see the back of the alcove. Not a corridor after all, for which Cass was thankful. Still, she moved carefully, carefully, around in an arc, making sure both corners were clear. There was nothing there but a couple of piles of debris that the wind had swept into the corners.

Cass continued down the hall, checking each alcove in the same fashion, taking nothing for granted. But they were all essentially the same. She reached the end without uncovering any surprises and became aware that her fingers were aching. She lowered the jittergun and relaxed her grip.

As expected, the corridor emptied out into a sort of three-walled room, a mirror image of the one where the others currently stood guard. Out across from her was an open area leading into another cluster of buildings. She stood there for maybe thirty seconds, carefully scanning for any sign of the Weir, but saw none. Satisfied they were secure, Cass turned and started walking back towards the others.

About halfway down the hall, a faint scraping noise sounded behind her, and made her stop dead. A gust of cold air funneled down the corridor and swirled around her. Had that been all it was? She couldn’t take any chances; she ducked into the nearest alcove and crouched down. Gamble was just at the end of the hall. Fifteen feet away. But Cass had to be sure.

She peeked out around the corner. There was nothing there. Not yet. Something in her gut told her to wait. And then sure enough, there — far out beyond the end of the corridor — a Weir crept into view. It croaked once as it moved down the open expanse between Cass and the buildings across from her. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be headed their way, and eventually it turned into another alleyway and disappeared.

Cass waited in her hiding place a bit longer, just to be safe, and then rejoined the others.