Jay Posey - Three

Glancing down to judge their distance, Cass was surprised to see she could still make out details far below despite the darkness. The street underneath them was tinted in a faint blue, not unlike moonlight. It took her groggy mind a few seconds to realize what that meant, to replay her fall and what had caused it.

Weir.

Two shapes moved in the darkness, their electric starlight eyes roving. A muted burst of white noise from one. A soft answering call from the other in that otherworldly, organic static. Almost like the quiet whuffing of wolves in the night. Cass wondered briefly if that was how they whispered.

To her surprise, Three thrust upwards to a new position. He must have known the Weir were in the street below. Apparently far less concerned by them than she was. Cass only then realized she was holding her breath. The Weir crept along beneath them, and continued out from under the maglev line, picking their way cautiously in the direction of the Vault. Soon enough they were lost in the night.

Three jolted again, driving upwards, and something round and hard thudded off the top of Cass’s head with a dull, metallic thunk . A broad and throbbing pain radiated through her skull, down her spine, and into her toes. She squeezed her eyes shut, saw stars, bit off the cry that tried to escape her lips.

“I am so sorry,” Three hissed. “You OK?”

Cass realized he’d bounced her head off the underside of the maglev line. They’d reached the top.

“Fine,” she whispered, still not opening her eyes. Another wave of nausea washed over her, the strongest yet. She hoped she didn’t have a concussion.

“Can you pull yourself up?”

Cass shifted slowly, carefully, and saw that they were just underneath the main line, where a gap about two feet wide allowed access to the top side of the track. In answer to Three’s question, she reached up and dragged herself up through the gap. Flopped on her belly. Pulled leaden legs along behind. And lay still.

Three joined her a few moments later, lying on his back, drawing deep breaths. For a while, the two of them just lay there, recovering. The wind was colder up here; more constant, more biting. Cass rolled to her back, shoulder to shoulder with Three, eyes still closed as she fought off the vertigo.

She felt him shift closer, press into her, felt his warmth against her arm.

“Hey,” he said, close now. “Take a look.”

Cass couldn’t tell from his tone what she’d see when she opened her eyes. When she did, she gasped. Above her, the sky was afire.

Stars. More than she’d ever seen; beyond counting, beyond even imagining. Like a spray of diamonds cast across a sea of velvet. Light, wispy clouds glowed from a half-moon, blending some stars into a milky translucence and highlighting the burning intensity of those out of the clouds’ reach.

Instinctively, Cass stretched out a hand as though she could feel them, or collect them. And instantly thought of Wren, longed for him, knew how awestruck he would’ve been to see what she now saw.

“I wish Wren…” she started, and couldn’t finish. She shut her eyes again, felt tears roll, chilling her cheeks in the wind.

“He’ll see ’em one day,” Three whispered. “Promise.”

Cass didn’t respond. She thought back to Wren’s two word pim, wondered what it meant. Maybe he was hiding. Or in danger. Or worried about Asher discovering their location. Why had she ever let him go?

“Come on. Let’s get you out of this wind.”

Three rose to his knees.

“Give me another minute.”

“Feeling sick?”

Cass was too tired to lie. She nodded without thinking.

“Repeater probably. You’ll get used to it after a while.”

She had no idea what he meant, and it took too much effort to talk so she didn’t ask. Just another minute. Her injuries and nausea and exhaustion mingled into some unholy perfection of personal pain. But she could force herself up in another minute. Maybe two.

She didn’t have to. Without permission or fanfare, Three scooped her up off the ground and carried her down the line, cradling her like an overgrown child.

“I can walk,” she said, fidgeting in protest.

“I don’t know. Pretty sure you got heavier since we got up here.”

He kept walking.

“Put me down, Three. I can manage.”

“Fine.”

He dropped her legs, and helped her upright. Cass made a show of adjusting herself, as if he’d somehow mishandled her and maybe owed her an apology.

“Where are we going?”

“Here.”

Cass looked around and sighed. They were standing at the edge of what looked like a very short tunnel. Six concentric rings of gray steel stacked tightly together along the track, forming an enclosure around the rail about nine feet tall and twice as long. It seemed to be emitting a faint, low hum, just at the edge of hearing; one that seemed imagined if you listened for it, but obvious if ignored. Cass ran a hand along its smooth curving surface. It was cool to the touch, not the cold she expected.

“This is a repeater?”

“Yeah,” Three answered. “Something about the magnets. Weir don’t like ’em.”

Nausea swept over Cass again, the strongest yet, and she thought for a moment she might actually faint. She leaned her head against the repeater wall until it passed.

“I don’t think I like them either,” she said, more to herself than Three. Cass leaned back and looked again at the repeater, the rail itself. Thought about the general state of disrepair. “I’m surprised this thing is still… doing whatever it does.”

Three shrugged in the moonlight.

“Me too. Lucky.”

“How’d you know it was running?”

“I didn’t.”

Cass thought that over briefly.

“Well, what would’ve happened if it’d been dead?”

“Nothing good.”

His tone was his characteristic brand of flat, matter-of-fact. Somehow understated, yet completely honest. Cass reflected back to their climb and wondered if maybe she’d been wrong, if maybe he really was a machine after all.

“Come on,” he said. “Might as well get comfortable. Not much left to do tonight except sleep.”

He walked down into the middle of the repeater, where it was darkest. Cass followed along one pained step at a time, her body ceasing to give her any localized sensations and having resorted to one generalized mass of hurt. She lowered herself to the ground, sat cross-legged, leaned her back against the repeater wall, surprised by how much she could still see with the moon- and starlight filtering in from both open ends. It might’ve been comforting if not for the void in her lap, where Wren usually slept. She felt empty.

Three slid in next to her.

“We’ll be safe here, don’t worry.”

He swept something heavy over her, covering from her shoulders down over her legs. It was damp, but extremely warm. His coat.

“Sleep. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

Deep down, Cass felt she should make some sort of protest, to remind Three that she didn’t need him or anyone else watching out for her. But deeper still, she knew that was fast becoming a lie. She let her eyes fall closed, and welcomed the embrace of dreamless sleep.

Three’s eyes snapped open, but careful discipline kept the rest of him as still as death. He counted to ten before shifting his gaze to check the periphery, letting his ears do the preliminary work. Nothing seemed immediately out of place. At some point, Cass had slipped sideways into him, and was now sleeping soundly with her head on his shoulder and a hand tucked just inside his elbow.

It hadn’t been a sound that had awakened him, but he felt the pumping adrenaline as if someone had called his name, or smashed out a nearby window. Instinctive alarms were screaming in his head.