Jay Posey - Morningside Fall

Mouse had Wick sitting down on the floor, propped against the wall at the mouth of the corridor. Wick’s eyes were open and he seemed alert, but his breathing was labored. He had a hand pressed hard into the hollow where his neck met his left shoulder, just above the collarbone. Cass could see the blood burbling out around his fingers. After a moment she realized Mouse was calling her name.

“Cass, I need you!” he called. She snapped into the moment. Cass was still holding Wren, so she slid him to his feet and then went and crouched next to Mouse. “Help me get his pack off.”

Mouse leaned Wick gently forward while Cass worked on the buckles. They were gummed with blood and were hard to work.

“Steady your breathing, Wick,” he said. “Slow it down.”

“You first,” Wick said with a clenched jaw. He grimaced, and Cass saw blood on his teeth. They got the pack off his back and scooted him back against the wall.

“Hey,” Mouse said as they were helping him move, “you didn’t have to run all that way, haulin’ you.” He said it with a smile, but Cass could see the concern in his eyes. Mouse gave a quick tug to a pouch on his chest harness, and it fell open, revealing the neatly packed and secured contents of his trauma kit. He worked quickly to get Wick’s chest rig out of the way so he could assess the wound.

“Talk to me, Mouse!” Finn called.

“He’s busy!” Wick responded. “…And mind your business!” And then more quietly, he said, “Is it bad, man?”

Mouse moved Wick’s hand and blood pooled in the hollow of his clavicle, but Cass didn’t have time to see the wound before Mouse poured some kind of gritty powder over it and started packing it with gauze.

“Quit leaking everywhere,” Mouse said, “and it won’t be. Cass, put pressure right here, hard, even if he squeals.”

Cass did as she was instructed, and Wick locked eyes with her.

“You’re going to be fine,” she said.

“You’re just saying that.”

“It makes me feel better.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I know.”

Outside, the Weir continued to squall, but they sounded scattered and didn’t seem to be getting any louder or closer that Cass could tell. Gamble came back down the hall past them and grabbed Able’s shoulder. He turned his head to look at her, but kept his weapon up and pointed at the door.

“Go help Sky on the stairs,” she said. Able nodded and hustled down the hall and up the stairs. Gamble came and dropped to a knee alongside Wick. “Wick, how bad are you?”

“More scared than hurt,” he said.

“Mouse?” Gamble asked.

“Couple of punctures, just behind the clavicle, some tearing,” Mouse said. “Jugular and carotid are probably OK, but if it hit the subclavian, could be bad news.”

“Can we move him?” she asked.

“If we have to.”

“I want to get higher, rig the stairs.”

Mouse nodded. “Gimme a few, see if we can make sure this clots up.”

A sudden impact made the doors shudder, snapping everyone’s attention to the front. Except for Mouse. He was intent on Wick, calmly evaluating him.

“Might not have it,” Gamble whispered.

They waited in tense silence, waited for that next blow to fall. Ten seconds passed.

“What do you think those doors are rated?” Finn asked in a low voice.

“Nothin’ like that gate was,” Swoop answered quietly. Finn readjusted his grip on his rifle.

Thirty seconds. Sixty. But no more blows fell on the doors.

“Seal up the hinges, too,” Gamble said, her voice lowered. “And rig a charge on the center. If we have to get out that way, we’ll go out hard.”

Finn kept the door covered while Swoop cautiously approached. He produced another strip of the same putty-like substance Able had slapped on the middle of the door. This time, however, Swoop drew a large knife from its sheath on his chest rig and cut the strip into quarters. These he placed on the hinge-side of the doors, two on each, high and low. He ignited them in succession, and they each rained sparks to the floor. Once they’d finished, Swoop dropped his pack and dug out a few components that Cass didn’t recognize.

“When you say ‘go out hard’, how hard do you mean?” Swoop asked, as he started assembling pieces.

“Hard enough to kill everything on the other side,” Gamble answered.

Swoop nodded and grabbed another two components out his bag, and then started affixing them to the doors.

Wren was still standing in the hall where Cass had left him, with his hands over his ears, just watching those doors with wide eyes. Jaw clenched, lips white.

“Any chance they didn’t actually see us come in here?” Finn asked.

“It’s hard for them to track in the daylight,” Cass said. “Maybe they lost us.”

Mouse patted her on the arm and shifted position to take over putting pressure on Wick’s wound. Cass lifted her hands slowly while he slid his in underneath and piled more gauze on top of the wound. Cass’s hands were tacky where the blood had soaked through the first layers of the dressing.

“They know we’re here,” Wren said from the hall. Gamble looked at him, and then at Cass.

“If he says they know, they know,” Cass said.

Gamble nodded.

“Sky,” she said, “we need some elevation… Understood… Can you check for roof access…? I understand that. I’m not asking to clear the whole thing… Alright, check.” She shook her head. “Can we get Wick up nine flights?”

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Mouse said. “I don’t want him going into shock.”

“I’m not dead yet,” Wick said. “You don’t have to talk about me like I am.”

“Sorry, you lost a lot of blood,” Mouse replied.

“I didn’t really lose it, it’s all right outside.”

“Knock it off, Wick, this isn’t a joke,” Finn said.

“I can make it up some stairs,” Wick said. “If someone can carry my pack.”

“I’ll take it,” Cass said, before anyone else could respond.

Swoop finished rigging the charge on the door and dropped back. Outside the cries of the Weir had dropped off. Mouse had Wick hold the gauze in place and started winding a wide bandage over the wound and around under his armpit.

“What happened in there, Finn?” Swoop asked.

“I don’t really know,” he said. “We were clearing rooms, everything was fine. Come around a corner, and we’re staring at a crowd of Weir packed into a little dark room in the middle. Just standing there, all packed in together. Tried to back out, one of ’em pounced. Wick went down and it was on top of him, and the rest started coming after us. Like walking into the middle of a hornet’s nest.”

“My fault,” Wick said. “Took it too fast…”

“No way anyone could’ve anticipated that,” Finn said. “It was like they were switched off, and we woke ’em up. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I don’t think anyone has,” Swoop said. “Never gave much thought to where they went during the day.”

“Alright,” Gamble said. “I want to get up to the roof, get a good look at what we’re dealing with. Swoop, Finn, rig the first two flights of stairs. If they breach that door, I want it to cost them.”

“You want to drop the stairs, or just kill a lot of ’em?” Swoop asked.

“Both.”

He grunted. “That’ll take most of what we got.”

“I’d rather use it all than die with it in your pack.”

Swoop gave a little nod. “Check.”

“Everybody else, we’re moving topside,” Gamble said.

“To the t-t-top floor?” Painter asked.

“No. To the roof,” Gamble said. “We don’t have time to clear the whole building, but we can control the roof. Get your stuff, and we’ll move up.”