Shade's Children (15 page)

They were only a few feet behind the Myrmidon line when Gold-Eye’s Deceptor crown slipped off his hanging head. Ella caught it before it hit the ground and had it back on again in a second, her heart pounding. Had any of the creatures noticed a human suddenly wink into existence and out again?

Fortunately the Myrmidons were all facing the other way. But one of the Myrmidon Masters—the extra-tall one in the swirling, garish green armor—wasn’t. It was staring right at them when Ella looked back. But it didn’t shout out orders or react in any way, so Ella forced herself to turn and face the front, to help Ninde steer the trolley through the gap in the moving Myrmidon line.

For a couple of minutes they just kept pace behind the line, readying to line the trolley up for a quick dash. Then, as the two chosen Myrmidons leaned in opposite directions, they pushed—as hard and as fast as they could, streaking toward the gap.

The trolley flew forward, straight as an arrow, then obstinately veered to the left, regardless of the girls’ efforts to redirect it—and Gold-Eye’s feet, sticking out one side, clipped the thigh of the Emerald Crown Myrmidon as they zoomed past.

It turned, bellowing something in Battlespeech—but they were invisible to it and already past, pushing on to sunshine and open air. So it chose the obvious target, swinging its halberdlike weapon in a vicious decapitating blow at the Silver Sun Myrmidon on its right.

It missed, and the other Myrmidon slashed back with a broad-bladed sword, weapons meeting with a clash even louder than their battle cries. Then the other Myrmidons in each maniple were charging in, shouting and bellowing, weapons crashing on weapons, screeching off armor.

Ella was still looking back over her shoulder at this sudden, violent melee when she felt a shadow pass over—followed an instant later by something smashing her, Ninde, and the trolley to the ground.

It was so unexpected that it took Ella several seconds to realize that she was lying on the ground and should try to do something about it. At the same time, she saw a Winger flopping around a few feet away, its great eyes dazed and half shut, its wings pathetically trying to move as though still flying. The net, with its human captive, a white-clad Dormitory child, lay at its feet.

Obviously the Winger had landed right on top of them, oblivious to their Deceptor-clad presence….

Deceptors! thought Ella, with a chill. Quickly, she checked the crown and battery. Both seemed intact. One eyepiece of her gas mask was cracked, but she had planned to take it off anyway, so she did, taking a deep breath of fresh, sun-warmed air to calm herself—not very successfully, as the noise of the Myrmidon battle just behind her grew even louder without the mask.

The trolley was on its side not far away, with Gold-Eye and Drum next to it, limbs tumbled together by the fall. Ninde was on her hands and knees nearby, checking her own Deceptor. She already had her mask off, and her nose was bleeding. A bright trail of blood ran down into her gasping mouth.

Ella forced herself to her feet and staggered over to Gold-Eye and Drum, checking their Deceptors before she even considered looking for broken bones or other injuries. The Myrmidons were only yards away, and they would put their animosity aside in a second if they saw humans—or any species of victim, considering their current state of combat readiness.

“Your nose is bleeding,” Ella said as Ninde crawled over. She repeated it as the shouting of the Myrmidons and the clash of steel drowned her words.

Ninde looked surprised, licking the top of her mouth with a hasty swipe of the tongue. Tasting blood, she grimaced but went straight to Drum and tried to lift him onto the trolley. She knew how close the Myrmidons were too.

Ella grabbed the big man’s legs to help, and they got him on the trolley just as the Myrmidon battle started to spread out—toward them. Other maniples were approaching across the parking lot at double time, shouting encouragement or threats. The whole area was becoming one enormous battle—and the Overlords would soon be there….

“Start pushing Drum toward the cars!” shouted Ella, bending down to grab Gold-Eye. “I’ll carry Gold-Eye!”

“No, I will!” Ninde shouted back, pushing her aside to lift Gold-Eye up in a fireman’s carry. “Hurry up and push!”

She led the way, staggering a little, with Ella pushing the trolley haphazardly behind her. Almost as they left, four Silver Sun Myrmidons came stumbling across where they’d been, driven back by a vicious Emerald Crown assault.

This time Ella didn’t look behind her. She pushed, praying that Drum wouldn’t fall off, or the wheels on the trolley jam, or another Winger crash into them. The safety of the cars—temporary at best—seemed so far away, farther than her remaining strength could take her. But still she pushed, no longer trying to steer the trolley so much as just point it in the right direction and maintain its momentum.

They were almost at the cars when the Screamer sounded again, back in the Meat Factory. Almost at once, the sound of the Myrmidon battle subsided, the shouts diminishing, the sharp, steely bite of weapons on armor fading. The scream continued, rising and falling like a trumpet call. It was the call announcing the arrival of an Overlord.

Hearing it, Ninde broke from a controlled stagger to a run, and Ella found that she too had some small strength left in her to push harder still. They had just reached the shelter of the shadows between two station wagons when a giant Winger passed overhead and circled to a landing.

Neither Ella nor Ninde looked to see which Overlord it was. They were too intent on getting Drum off the trolley, placing him down next to Gold-Eye, and slinging the trolley on its side, so they were all safely in the shadow of the cars.

“They’ll probably start searching before too long,” said Ella when she’d got her breath back. “And we’re going to have to change batteries soon….”

“Why dod’t we jus’ go oud the gates dow?” asked Ninde nasally, her nose firmly pinched to stop the bleeding. “So’s we dod’t run oud of badderies.”

“It’s shut,” said Ella wearily. “Till the Ferrets go out at dusk.”

Ninde let go of her nose, checked it had stopped bleeding with a wipe from the back of her hand, and said, “It looked open to me when we were crossing over here—and all the Myrmidons had run back to the building.”

“Are you sure?” asked Ella. Cautiously she levered herself up the side of the car and took a peek. Sure enough, the gates were slightly ajar, and there was no sign of Myrmidons. There were none left outside the hangar doors either—the Overlord must have summoned them all inside.

“The Overlord is probably giving them a lecture,” said Ninde cheerfully. “Like Shade does when there’s brawls in the Sub.”

“It’s probably killing the ones that started it,” said Ella matter-of-factly. “Still, if it keeps them all inside the building for a while…you’ll have to do most of the pushing, unless they wake up.”

Both looked at the sprawled bodies of Gold-Eye and Drum. Neither looked alive, but they didn’t exactly look dead, either. Ella leaned over and slapped them both on the cheeks—quite hard—but there was no reaction.

She took a deep breath and shook her head, feeling the painful approach of that moment when her decision would mean life or death for them. Finally she said, “Let’s load them up and make a break for it. Okay?”

Ninde smiled tentatively and bent her knees to get a good grip under one of Drum’s armpits, while Ella took the other. “Ready? One, two, three, heave!”

This time they got Drum half on the trolley and half on the hood of the car, so it was relatively easy to roll him fully onto the trolley and then lay Gold-Eye across his stomach.

They took a last look at the Meat Factory building. Then Ella nodded and they were off, the trolley bucking across the uneven asphalt as they sprinted toward the gate.

Panting, Ella ran to the side, keeping Gold-Eye on the trolley and taking occasional glances back to the building. She kept expecting to see the Overlord, gauntleted hand pointing at them, or using some fearsome distance weapon….

Ninde, however, seemed almost carefree. Even pushing as hard as she could, cheeks flushed almost white with exertion, she looked as if she still believed that everything was going to work out….

And she was right, as far as the gate was concerned. It was open, so they slowed just enough to get the trolley through and then accelerated again on the road. There was still no sign of the Myrmidons coming back out, though Wingers were starting to appear in the sky again, gliding down to deliver their burdens.

The morning sun shone brightly on Ella’s hands and face and lit the pallid faces of Gold-Eye and Drum. Birds were moving about in the thistle fields on the side of the road, little fantailed birds that flitted so quickly from place to place, they seemed almost to have perfected instantaneous transport.

If she hadn’t known that the Meat Factory and all its creatures and stolen children were so close behind her, Ella could have smiled at the sheer joy of being alive on such a beautiful day.

But the Meat Factory was there, and the city was still full of creatures, and the Overlords would soon be sending out forces to discover who—or what—had infiltrated their realm, killed Drones, and stolen the precious raw material that humans called Drum.

She was thinking of that and calculating the total hours left in their Deceptor batteries when Ninde let out a surprised yelp and stopped the trolley.

Ella stopped, sword half drawn, eyes scanning the thistle bushes for the sudden ambush, the Myrmidons or Trackers bursting out of hiding. Then she realized that Ninde was looking at the trolley. Gold-Eye, draped over Drum, was moving.

“He’s alive!” cried Ninde. She threw her arms up in the air in a dramatic gesture, then bent down, grabbed Gold-Eye by the ears, turned his head painfully, and gave him a very movie-star kiss. Or tried to, since he wasn’t participating.

“Wh…at?” he mumbled dully. Ninde let go, and his head flopped back down toward the road. He seemed to be lying across something, which Ninde was pushing—and they were outside! The last thing he could remember was blue dust falling from the ceiling, great clouds of blue dust….

“Drum?” he said, lifting his head again and squinting against the sun. He could see Ninde—and Ella behind her—but there was no sign of Drum. Had they failed because he’d tried to run away from the blue dust?

“You’re lying on him,” said Ninde, smiling.

“What?” said Gold-Eye again, twisting to the left and right to see what on earth Ninde was talking about. When he discovered that he was indeed lying across Drum’s imposing middle, he pushed himself up and half slithered, half fell to the ground. It was ground that seemed to want to move up and down rather than remain flat—but he ignored that and got shakily to his feet.

“Drum okay?” he asked as they started off again. Then, seeing the clotted blood around Ninde’s nose and mouth, “Ninde okay?”

“Everyone’s okay—for the moment,” said Ella, with a glance back down the road. The Meat Factory gates were still very visible, for the road ran straight up to them. But the Myrmidons had not returned to guard the gate, and their bright tents were empty.

“We’d better start cutting across to the freeway, Ninde.”

Ninde nodded and turned the reluctant trolley off the road into the thistle field. But as soon as it left the hard surface, the wheels dug in and it tipped over, almost off-loading Drum in the process.

“Damn,” said Ella. “I was afraid of that. We’ll have to drag him. Ninde, grab that arm….”

Gold-Eye looked at them blearily as they lifted Drum off and started dragging him backward, each with an arm hooked through one of his. The heels of his huge wet-suit boots left a furrow in the dirt. He was facing the sun now, his closed eyes staring back unseeing at Gold-Eye.

They were almost at the freeway when Ella had to call a rest. She nearly fell herself as they lowered Drum down. Even dragging him was very hard work.

“Just five minutes’ rest,” she panted, resting her head on her knees for a moment, trying to summon up some more strength from somewhere. When she raised it again, a dark shadow flitted across her face and she flinched, thinking it was a Winger. But it was cloud shadow blotting out the sun. Great dark, rain-laden clouds were blowing in from the west, a long line across the whole horizon. Moving swiftly, too swiftly to be carried by a natural wind.

“They know we use the drains,” said Ella quietly, looking at the black sky. “So they’re trying to cut off our escape. They must guess it was us at the Meat Factory. No. We left the gas masks. They must know.”

Lightning flickered under the imminent clouds, forks dancing sideways across the sky before striking down. Cold air that smelled of rain hit, taking away the last of the sun’s warmth.

“The drains will flood,” said Ninde, watching the haze of rain falling behind the clouds. It would be falling on them within ten minutes. Gold-Eye watched too, remembering the flood from the Main Junction, water bursting in everywhere before it exploded down the tunnels….

“We’ll have to hole up somewhere till the rain passes,” decided Ella. “Somewhere we can save on the Deceptor batteries.”

She looked around, seeing only the dark bulk of the Meat Factory, lit behind with lightning; the flat expanse of the thistle fields; the freeway with its littered vehicles; the vast cemetery rolling up the hills behind, with the mighty pine trees lording it on the ridge.

“Trees,” said Gold-Eye, pointing at them. “Good to hide. Safe from Ferrets later.”

“Not so good for lightning,” commented Ella, looking back at the approaching storm. She looked around again, hoping to see something else or suddenly remember some closer haven…but there was nothing there. She felt too tired to think any further, too weary to come up with ideas of her own.

“The trees it is,” she said finally. “We’d better get across the storm-water channel before the rain hits. Gold-Eye, do you feel strong enough to help drag Drum?”

“Yes, but…” Gold-Eye said, holding up his injured hands—one with two fingers splinted and the other purple and black with bruising.

“Ah…I forgot,” muttered Ella. “I wish the big bastard would just wake up.”

“I am awake,” said Drum, his high-pitched, reedy voice piercing above the distant growl of thunder. “I’ve just been gathering my wits for a few minutes.”

He propped himself up on his elbows and said, “Is that the Meat Factory over there?”

Ella didn’t say anything. She just stared at his strange, round, pinkish face till he smiled and said, “You came and got me.”

“Yes,” said Ella. She couldn’t help smiling herself. “We did.”

Drum nodded and, reaching out with one large hand, patted hers gently. Then he did the same to Ninde and Gold-Eye. He had never touched them voluntarily before, except to help or drag or throw them. Never lightly, with a smile.

“We’d better go,” he said. “I’ll piggyback you, Ella.”

“I’m okay,” protested Ella, but when she tried to stand up, her knees buckled and she fell against Ninde and Gold-Eye. They held her up, and Drum lumbered around to kneel with his back to her. Still protesting, she wrapped her arms around his neck and collapsed on his back, weakly putting her legs through his stirruped arms.

“You smell of seawater,” she said to his high wet-suit collar. “But…thanks for the lift.”

“Hang on,” said Drum, and then they were away, moving quickly between the cars, heading toward the cemetery hill and the mighty pines.

Behind them, the rain hit the Meat Factory, splashing it with huge drops. Wind blew more rain inside the hangar doors, where rank after rank of Myrmidons and Trackers stood in silence. There were three Overlords there now, standing next to a pyramidal pile of Myrmidon bodies. Three dead Myrmidon Masters lay at their feet, their postures suggesting suicide.

One of the Overlords—Black Banner—was holding a gas mask with a cracked lens. No words were spoken, but it was clear the Overlords were communicating with each other. Emerald Crown was pointing at the door to Red Diamond’s storage area, and Silver Sun was waving its long-taloned gauntlets around, indicating the standing Drones and the Myrmidons.

Eventually some sort of agreement was reached. Other Myrmidon Masters strode out from the ranks of the waiting creatures and approached their Overlords, going down on their knees to shuffle the last few feet.

Again no words were spoken, but the Myrmidon Masters shuffled back, stood up to bow, and returned to their forces, shouting commands in Battlespeech.

A few minutes later, six maniples were marching through the rain toward the gate, with Trackers loping ahead, faces wet from sniffing through the puddles. Wingers were leaving their captive nets behind and taking to the stormy skies, flying low in ever-widening circles around the Meat Factory, wings battling the rain and wind.

The storm front moved on, leaving soaking showers in its wake. It crossed the road and began to turn the thistle fields to mud—but not before Trackers found the abandoned trolley and then the footprints and drag marks of the humans. Confused by the absence of accompanying scent, they milled about and scratched at each other, till one went back to report the anomaly.

A few minutes later a Myrmidon Master was there, a mind-call medallion firmly stuck to its forehead as it examined the trolley, counted the footprints—and then began to follow them.

The storm-water channel had already begun to fill with water rushing in from the distant beginnings of the storm, but Drum waded through with ease, Ella on his back and the others holding on to him.

They were about to go straight up the other side when Drum looked back and saw their muddy footprints on the concrete, and deep impressions higher up on the earthen bank—impressions too deep to wash away.

“Walk along for a while,” he said, turning back into the current. “Lay a false trail.”

“It’s okay for you—you’ve got a wet suit on,” said Ninde, struggling along behind him. “I’m drenched….”

“Would be anyway,” remarked Gold-Eye correctly, as the rain suddenly burst upon them, huge fat drops splintering into spray on his nose and making loud plops in the rushing water. “How far?”

“This will do,” said Drum, about fifty yards along from where they’d entered the channel. There was a wider concrete apron there, so they wouldn’t leave any obvious footprints in the mud higher up. And the rain would wash the apron clean in seconds.

“Are you okay back there, Ella?” he asked.

“No,” replied Ella. “But I’m hanging on.”

“Hold on tighter,” instructed Drum, launching himself up the apron. Bent forward almost double, he let his momentum carry him up the side. Gold-Eye and Ninde followed more slowly, with several slips and minor fallings-back.

“Tread in my footsteps,” warned Drum as they left the concrete. “Confuse anything following.”

“Should I check to see if anything is?” asked Ninde, touching her Deceptor crown.

“No!” said Drum and Ella in unison. Then Ella turned her head just a little to look at Ninde and said, “There could be Wingers above us in this rain—and they can see a lot better than we can.”

“I was just asking,” said Ninde. “You’d think I couldn’t be trusted, the way you two carry on. If I hadn’t been there in the Meat Factory, no one would have been rescued.”

“I know,” said Ella seriously. “And we’re all very grateful.”

“Oh,” said Ninde, and shut up.