Jay Posey - Morningside Fall

“They’ll tear you to pieces, Cass. I can’t allow that.”

“I’m not going to let anyone else die for me,” Cass answered. “Not anymore.”

Gamble continued to stare her down, but Cass could see the wheels spinning.

“I’m not going to convince you otherwise, am I?” Gamble said.

“No.”

“And you’re not going to recognize my authority on this, are you?”

“No.”

“Should I even bother to offer you the jitter?”

“And the knife,” Cass said.

Gamble handed her the jittergun and slid the knife out of its sheath. It had a thick, heavy blade, nearly a foot long, and curving slightly forward. There were symbols etched along it, though Cass didn’t recognize them. Gamble flipped the knife in her hand and held the hilt out towards Cass. “This has been in my family a long time,” Gamble said. “I want it back.”

“I’ll deliver it myself,” Cass said. “Though I might need to clean it first.”

“See that you do.”

“Change of plans, boys,” Gamble called. She gave a curt nod, and then went to explain the new plan to the others.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cass saw Wren was standing off to the side, looking at her. She went to him, crouched down to his height.

“I thought you were going to carry Wick,” he said.

“I’m going to help a different way now,” she answered.

“I don’t like it when you fight, Mama.”

“I know.”

“It won’t be like usual.”

“I know.”

Wren looked at her with his fathomless eyes, weary and sad. But Cass saw no fear there. “I’ll help you if I can,” he said.

“You just run to Lil, baby. I’ll come to you when I can.”

He nodded, and then approached and wrapped his arms tightly around her neck. She hugged him back with everything she had. And hoped it wasn’t goodbye.

Afterwards, they all gathered their things. Swoop had stripped out some of the weight from their packs. It seemed a shame to leave perfectly good supplies behind, on the roof, outside a Weir-infested enclave, where no one would ever find them. But it seemed far more foolish to risk someone’s life over a couple of extra batteries.

They moved down to just inside the hall on the second floor. Gamble and the others had taken the time to check the rooms on that floor on their last trip down. Even that was closer to the blast than Swoop was comfortable with, but it was safe enough, and Gamble didn’t want to risk giving the Weir too much time to recover after the initial explosion. If they got stalled trying to get out of the door, that would be bad news.

Painter had taken over Cass’s spot carrying Wick, and Mouse had put him in the front, near Wick’s feet. Whether that was because it was the light end or because it would be less risky if Painter dropped him, Cass didn’t know. Able had taken charge of Wren, and would ensure that he made it safely to Lil.

Swoop and Gamble stood just behind Cass.

Lil called in and let them know they were a couple of minutes out. They were going to stay out of sight until the initial blast. No one was sure how the Weir were going to react once they showed up, and Cass wanted to make sure that the bulk of the fighting didn’t fall on them. As far as she was concerned, they were here to get Wren out, and as much of the team as they could. If they all made it, she’d consider that a bonus.

“Ready?” Swoop asked.

Cass gripped the knife in her right hand and the jittergun in her left. She drew a deep breath. Focused her mind. Asher was out there. Waiting. However many of them there were, they were all Asher to her.

“Do it,” Cass said.

“Fire in the hole, fire in the hole,” Swoop said calmly, just loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear. He squeezed a device in his hand three times, and then hell itself seemed to shake the building.

Dust leapt from every surface, and bits of concrete crumbled down the stairwell. Even two floors up, the blast vibrated Cass’s teeth and made her ears hurt. But there was no time to think. Swoop banged her on the shoulder with the palm of his hand, signaling for her to go, and Cass took off.

All anxiety melted away as she felt the surge of focus. She was on the ground floor without having registered taking the stairs.

Down the hall ahead of her was an opaque white and grey smoke, swirling where she knew a door once stood. Cass plunged through, heard the crunch of debris beneath her feet and knew she was through the front room and then out into the open. The smoke was dissipating in the steady wind, just enough for her to start making out the charred, twisted, and broken forms of the Weir who’d been caught in the blast.

For a brief moment, she wondered if — by some miracle — the explosion had killed them all. The hope was quickly dispelled by an electric scream from somewhere in the smoke ahead of her. They were coming.

The first Weir leapt from out of the smoke in front of her, just to her right, and Cass spun to avoid it and fired a burst from the jittergun into its back as it landed. A second lunged from her left, and she met it with a cleaving stroke from the knife, dropping it at her feet.

She could see them now, lurching through the cloud towards her, two here, three there, and a fury overtook her. She fired one burst, then another, and then leapt forward and drove her knee into the chest of an approaching Weir, before severing its head from its body. The knife flashed almost of its own accord, perfectly balanced, deadly with every stroke.

Weir closed in from the sides, and she met them head on, smashing her fist into one’s face and then whirling to shoot another. To her surprise, they seemed to be moving at almost half-speed, and Cass found herself anticipating their movements. One crouched back as if to pounce, and Cass stomped forward, crushing her heel into its face before it even started forward.

A quick spin and she took a leg just below the knee, and then came up and caught another Weir in the throat with the muzzle of the jitter. She squeezed the trigger as it stumbled back and didn’t even bother to watch it fall.

The smoke continued to clear as Cass pressed forward, cutting her way through the throng. Her thoughts flashed back, back to the night, long ago, in the Strand when she’d fought among them, with a different result. Now, her full fury and vengeance coursed through her and into the Weir who could not stand before her.

But still they came, and where one fell, two soon took its place. As the air cleared around Cass, she saw that the blast had killed many and left others stunned. But she had little time to count casualties. The Weir were gathering their strength, and unity of purpose.

Cass felt the sting of claws sinking into her left shoulder, followed by a heavy impact from behind that sent her stumbling forward. She allowed the momentum to carry her, rolled, came up in a crouch and drove her blade into a Weir. Fired a long burst into the mass that rushed towards her now. And when she released the trigger, still they fell.

She leapt to her feet and spun to take the arm from the Weir who had been behind her, and then on the backswing, crushed its skull with the pommel of her blade. Cass continued her spin and brought the jittergun up, knowing the other Weir would be nearly upon her.

She fired off a burst, and then another, and found herself with more breathing room than she’d expected. Then she understood. Gamble and her team were out now, assisting.

Cass plunged forward, throwing herself into the nearest pack of Weir, trusting in the team that supported her. But as she fought on, she found the Weir rapidly changing tactics. They began to coalesce around her, feinting and falling back from one side, and instantly surging forward from another. Before Cass could react, she found herself being swallowed up and driven further away from her companions.