Waging War (49 page)

I heard a bullet ping against something
metallic, and then a buzzing sound like an amplified electric
transformer, or a great, mechanical bee, filled the station. I
whipped my head around for the source of the sound, and then I
stared up in horror.

It was a buzzbee that had lodged in the
ceiling. It had been activated by a stray bullet, and the buzzing
sound came from it.

Ringo had dragged Archer down onto the
tracks out of the line of wild gunfire. George was still shooting
the places where we’d stood until Ringo threw a brick at his head
that knocked him down. No one seemed to understand that the buzzing
sound was a very, very bad thing to hear, and we all needed to stop
what we were doing and run.

The buzz filled my head with a sound we had
to escape. And suddenly, escape was all we could do. I jumped back
up to the platform and began to retrace my spiral.

Archer – Present Day

The shooter was young, barely out of his
teens, and terrified. I didn’t care who he was or why he was there.
I ripped the gun from his hands and hurled it out of the
passage.

“Run.” I growled at him.

Blood loss made me dizzy, but I spun and
leapt to the ground. I landed badly and hands helped me to my feet.
“Where’s the Wolf. We have to go,” I said, my voice alarmingly
weak.

“He’s hurt and can’t walk,” said a voice I
didn’t recognize. I looked up and registered the green, spiky hair
first, then a face about Arman’s age with intelligent eyes and
interesting features. “Jesus, so are you.” His voice was awed as he
stared at the blood that had soaked my shirt red.

“There’s a bomb. Unexploded V-1.” I
indicated the ceiling above the last car and Tam’s expression
changed immediately.

“That explains what I’ve Seen. Right, we’re
going back up.” He meant the passage and I stared at him in
shock.

“No, we’re getting Connor and getting
out.”

“We won’t make it. The Wolf is hurt, you’re
practically dead. We can’t get far enough. The whole tunnel
collapses. I’ve Seen it.”

Just then the Monger shooter dropped down
behind me and bolted for the tunnel entrance. Tam spat. “He’ll die.
Serves him right.”

I found I expected Ringo’s voice to come
from Tam’s mouth, and it made me trust him. “I’m not healing like I
should,” I said wearily.

“No kidding.” The awe was back in his voice
as he surveyed the array of old wounds on my body. He couldn’t see
the sword slashes and stab wounds that I knew were under my shirt.
“I’ll boost you up and hand the Wolf to you.”

I looked over to where Connor’s Wolf lay
curled around himself, breathing heavily and in obvious pain. His
eyes watched me, and I finally nodded.

Then the room went silent.

“Twelve seconds,” I whispered.

Saira – 1944

The room went silent. For an instant I
thought I’d lost my ability to Clock, but then the hum and buzz of
the portal began to grow with each turn of my finger, and I
realized what the silence meant.

“Twelve seconds!” I shouted to Ringo and
Archer. “The bomb blows in twelve seconds!”

Ringo understood my words immediately, and
he helped Archer to his feet. The whole front of Archer’s white
shirt was red with blood. I was terrified for him as he struggled
to stand, and I knew he’d been shot multiple times. I just barely
resisted the urge to fling myself at him.

“Ringo, get to Saira! I’ll bring Walters.” I
heard Archer’s voice gasp the order. They were only about twenty
feet from me, but dragging a wounded Monger could slow Archer down
to a dangerous degree. I opened my mouth to protest, but it was
pointless. Ringo would do what Archer wanted.

The buzzing in my head intensified and I
could feel the portal open, so I stepped back to avoid being pulled
in. Ringo stopped about ten feet away from me and turned back
toward Archer, who was bent over George Walters checking for a
pulse.

“Leave him! Let’s go!”

The silence count had reached five and panic
squeezed my throat.

George suddenly clutched Archer’s shirt with
an iron grip, and the flash of gold on his finger was suddenly more
than just a ring – it was the Monger ring. Archer tore himself from
George’s grasp and rose like a phoenix behind Ringo, his eyes never
leaving mine as he mouthed the words, “I love you.”

Archer – Present Day

I could see her face clearly in my memory,
hear the music in her voice as she promised to love me forever in
that walled garden in Oradour-sur-Glane. I could see the love that
shone in her eyes, the softness of her hair in the moonlight, and
the smile that danced on her lips.

And I smiled.

The Wolf lay curled next to me, and my arm
draped over him protectively. The young man with green hair
crouched opposite, watching us both with concern.

And then the world outside the passage
burned hot and bright.

And everything went black.

Saira – 1944

A blast tore through the station, and fire
consumed the air. Heat seared my lungs and concussion filled my
head with dull, thudding silence. Ringo hit me so hard we went
through the wall - through the spiral portal and
between
where shock hit me like ice water. I blindly grabbed for a hand
that I didn’t feel but knew was there, and then hit the floor with
a
whump!

London – 1944

I lay there, dazed, and then staggered to my
feet and stared around me. I’d landed in the bishop’s attic at
Guy’s Chapel – the attic I’d brought us to after the massacre at
Oradour-sur-Glane.

My vision cleared enough to see Ringo on the
floor coughing fiercely.

But no one else.

“Archer!” I gasped, stumbling forward.
“Where’s Archer?”

Ringo couldn’t speak through his cough, and
I gripped his shoulder and shook him hard. “WHERE’S ARCHER?!” I
shouted into his face. His eyes cleared just long enough to
realize, and then they filled with despair.

“He pushed me,” Ringo gasped for breath,
“into you.”

I staggered under the weight of the pain his
words sent searing through me, and then shoved it off my shoulders,
determined to be able to move. “I have to go back,” I choked.

“You can’t Clock into a bomb site.”

“I have to! He’s a Vampire. He can
survive.”

Unbelievably, the marker was still clutched
in my hand, and I crouched down to draw a spiral around my feet.
Ringo tried to crawl to me, but I croaked at him, “No, stay
here!”

The hum began immediately, and I pictured
the ghost station clearly in my mind. As I left the attic, the
blackness of
between
consumed me.

And it didn’t let go.

I frantically tried to picture a tunnel
filled with debris, but the portal didn’t open.

If it had been an actual door, I would have
pounded on it, slammed into it, scratched at the edges until my
fingers bled. I kicked out at the blackness, punched the darkness,
threw myself against the nothingness where the portal should have
been, but there was no door. There was just endless
between
.

Noooooo!
I shrieked in my mind.

I couldn’t reach Archer. I couldn’t get back
to the place I’d left him.

The bitter cold and dark of
between
filled me,
became
me.

Between
stole the air from my lungs
and I felt the blackness curling around my brain as oxygen
deprivation became real. I had only a few moments of consciousness
left before I was robbed of whatever choice I still had to leave
the endlessness that was
between
time and place.

I could choose to let go. I didn’t have to
face a world where Archer’s light was extinguished, where he would
never smile at me, where his arms would never hold me again. I
didn’t have to go back to face the aftermath of his death.

A small spark of will still burned bright in
me, and it pushed back against the blackness. I would not choose
oblivion, because I would rather feel pain than feel nothing at
all. I grabbed onto my choice for life with both hands, and I felt
the dim light of the pre-dawn attic draw me like a moth to the
weakest of flames. I used the last of my strength to pull myself
toward it.

I didn’t feel the impact of the attic floor
when I finally emerged from
between
. I was alive, but Archer
was dead, and the truth of it rode the breath I took and filled my
lungs with searing pain. I had no strength left to stand, and I
curled into a fetal ball as liquid darkness filled my core and
consumed me from inside.

Strong hands pulled me up, and I was wrapped
in arms I couldn’t feel. “It’s gone,” I whispered. “I couldn’t find
the door.” I felt hands tighten on my shoulders, and they shook
me.

“Saira,” Ringo said urgently. His tone
snapped my eyes to his, and I saw Rachel behind him. “We can run
there. Go down through ‘Olborn station. We ‘ave to try.”