J. Mitchell - Midnight City

“Oh, sure, yeah,” he called sarcastically after them. “I’ll just limp my way up to the top, then. I’m sure I can make it on my own.”

“You only got grazed!” he heard Mira shout from the hall. “Hurry up.”

Holt could already hear the sounds of the crowd outside the ship, and try as he might, he couldn’t muster the same enthusiasm as the others. Midnight City was an unpredictable place in the best of times, and dangerous in most others. At least he wouldn’t be staying long.

But that was just it, wasn’t it? Leaving, as necessary as it was… meant leaving Mira and Zoey.

How had he let it happen? Somehow he’d gotten right back in the same spot where he started. A place he’d put up walls to prevent himself from ever going again.

Survival was everything. It’s what he believed, it’s what he was taught, and the world had shown him it was true over and over again. How could he let this happen ? It wasn’t for lack of trying: He’d kept his distance from Mira and Zoey at first, but in spite of that, something about them refused to be ignored.

Holt shook his head. The way he saw it, he had two choices.

Leave them here at Midnight City and let Mira and Zoey face the dangers alone. It was Mira’s agenda, after all, not his. Survival dictated he head east, toward the Low Marshes. The Menagerie was still looking for him, and the longer he stayed in any one place, the less safe it became. And, most important, if he left, he wouldn’t have to watch it all happen again. He wouldn’t have to watch someone he cared about Succumb to the Tone right in front of him.

Or…

He could stay. He could risk the pain and the loss, and try to find a way to make sure it didn’t happen again. He could find a way to save Mira. And with Zoey, if what had happened in the trading post was real… maybe he actually could do it. The thought filled him with strange emotions, scary ones. Ones that felt almost like… hope.

Holt sat on the bed a long time, thinking, listening to the sounds of the churning masses outside float in through the small window.

All he knew was, either way, he couldn’t go through all that again….

MIRA EMERGED FROM THE LOWER DECKS of the Wind Shear into the bright morning sun with Zoey and Max.

From the ground, she could tell the ship was made of a whole host of different parts, but up close, Mira saw it all in a new light. The pieces—train, automobile, parts of buildings or boats, the airplane wings for masts—it hadn’t just been haphazardly stuck together in the shape of a giant vessel. Instead, it was meticulously constructed and melded together, and the individual components gleamed in the sunlight, their rough edges polished smooth. There wasn’t a hint of rust anywhere, and each piece had been shaped to flow effortlessly, one to the next, all held together by crafted wood. Pieces from old floors or boat decks or giant ceiling rafters—even a section from an old basketball court—all of it buffed and lacquered to a brilliant shine that sparkled in dozens of different colors and hues.

The Wind Shear wasn’t just this crew’s transportation; she was also their home, and you could tell by how beautifully maintained the ship was. And to think, in the Barren, there were a hundred of these ships, each one as unique as the Wind Shear in its own way.

Something about that made the world seem less small, Mira thought.

She watched the crew—about two dozen, Mira guessed—moving over the ship and preparing her to dock. Pulling the sails, stowing equipment, unhinging lengths of rope to tie off.

“Mira, come on!” Zoey shouted as she and Max ran past her. Mira smiled and moved to the edge of the ship’s deck with them. Below was what once was a giant dam that marshaled the Missouri River, huge walls of concrete plunging over a steep drop several hundred feet below to where a diminished version of the river continued to wind southward through a huge floodplain.

It had once been called Fort Bennett Dam, but now it was the exterior of North America’s largest permanent population center, a place infamously known as Midnight City.

The real “city” lay deep underground, Mira knew, in the natural cavern system behind the structure, but she stared at it with a far-off, haunted look nonetheless. It was strange, looking at a place you used to call home, a place you used to feel safe in, and knowing that it was now hostile to you, that not only did it not want you anymore, but it would also hurt you if it got the chance. Seeing the city again was both exciting and sad.

Mira felt another twinge of sadness as she realized what else the city represented. The possibility of another good-bye. Surely Holt wouldn’t stay now that they had reached Midnight City, not with a price on his head. He’d said his plan was to head toward the Low Marshes, to try to outdistance his problems. That possibility, inevitable though it was, left a hollow feeling in her stomach. Mira didn’t like the way it felt.

“You okay?” Holt asked beside her. He’d followed them up, had his gear slung over his back. She looked at him softly, something passing between them. And then she nodded and touched his arm.

“Wow!” Zoey exclaimed, taking Mira’s hand. The little girl was staring at the port outside the ship with amazement.

Mira smiled down at her. “This is nothing—wait till we get into the city.”

“What’s it like?” Zoey asked.

“It’s… beautiful, actually. Dark and bright at the same time. Full of energy, more people than you’ve ever seen in one place. It’s not like anywhere else you’ll ever go.”

Zoey gazed out over the port below them.

Midnight City actually had two ports, one at the top where the Wind Shear was docked called Upper Berth, and one far below, where the Missouri River came out of the dam and continued south, called Lower Berth.

Lower Berth was for River Rat crews who brought their ships up from the south for trade. Mira looked over the edge of the dam, all the way down to where dozens of river boats and barges were docked far below. The crews and kids moving down there looked like ants from this far up.

Upper Berth was the land entrance to Midnight City, and traders moving on foot, as well as the occasional caravan or Landship from the Barren, docked and entered the city here. There were two other Landships tied off next to the Wind Shear, both a similar mix of different parts and pieces, all meticulously and artfully put together, and the crews of all three vessels had spun lines of cable between them, so that cargo or messages or even people could pass easily to and from them.

On the ground, hundreds of survivors moved between the ships and Midnight City’s main entrance, a huge opening in the concrete structure at the far side of the port that probably once allowed vehicles down into the dam’s interior.

“Would it be a waste of time to try to convince you to stay on?” a voice asked from behind. Mira turned and saw Dresden studying her. “It’s a long road west, and your expertise would come in handy. Not to mention… you bring a definite beauty and charm to the ship.”

Mira blushed, even as she noticed Holt’s glare. The Captain was certainly cute, and he had a way with words, but he was also more kinds of trouble than she could probably name. “I’m sad to say the answer’s still no. But you have a nice way of reasking the same question, Captain.” Mira saw Holt roll his eyes and pretend to focus on the port below.

“I see your friend found his legs,” Dresden said, looking at Holt. “That’s good. When you fell, I thought you were a goner. Hell, for a second, I thought we all were. Way those things chased after us… you’d think they were interested in you three personally.” Dresden smiled pleasantly, but it wasn’t completely disarming. He had his suspicions, it was clear.