“They can do it, master,” said Treasa, moving forward to clutch at his sleeve. “We could get out. You could get out.”
“I don’t care about myself,” the Smith said, and I knew he was telling the truth. The Tanner had been out for himself, but the Smith only wanted to protect his makeshift family. He rubbed his jaw and peered up at Treasa, a glimmer of hope in his eyes that flickered as the ground beneath us shook again, powerfully enough that the facade of a building across the street cracked. Heavy chunks of cement crashed to the pavement.
“All right. We could try,” he finally said, nodding to his guards. “Nazir! Take a group to the garages and fuel the carts. Holloran! Gather everyone in the yard.”
He turned to us. “You can take the lead vehicle. We must leave at dawn, well before the fire hour. We don’t have much time.” He glanced toward the east, where the cruel sun would rise, then back to us. “I’m trusting you with the souls of these people.”
“Then we need to borrow a vehicle and make a little side trip first,” I said, looking at Ana.
The Smith scowled. “For what purpose?”
“We need to get to the square.” I laced my fingers with Malachi’s and squeezed, a plan forming in my mind. “Everyone in this city needs to hear the good news.”
I stared at the hulking beast, pulling my cloak a little tighter. “The biggest thing I’ve ever driven is a Corolla.”
The looming vehicle the Smith had provided was the size and shape of a front loader, or maybe an industrial-grade snowplow. It had a massive scoop on the front and crudely fashioned rubber tires that were as tall as I was. It was the largest and most powerful in the Smith’s fleet, and we would need it, because we had to crash through the barricades and possibly hundreds of Mazikin to get to the main square.
“Good thing Treasa’s driving then,” called Ana as she strode over to us from the direction of the Smith’s armory, fingering the new blades at her thighs. Treasa was with her, and she scaled the side of the vehicle and dropped into the driver’s seat behind a steering wheel as big as she was.
I craned my neck. “Are your feet even touching the pedals?” I asked as I climbed up the ladder on the side of the thing.
“You’re funny,” she said, and though her tone was flat, she wore a smile.
My grip tightened as the ground shook again. The earthquakes were brief but getting stronger and more frequent. At some point, the river would break free, and we’d either ride out on a wave—or maybe end up pressed against the dome, caught within a giant hellish snow globe.
The Smith’s people were all around us, bustling in their preparations for the mad dash they were about to make. Everyone had a job—some were gathering the oldest and weakest and gently placing them on raised platforms atop the twenty or so wheeled vehicles that lined the block. Each vehicle was different, some with huge exposed engines, some with thick metal bumpers and shielded drivers’ compartments, a few with plow blades like ours, and several wide flatbeds, onto which most of the Smith’s people were climbing. Others were shouting orders and tucking weapons into their belts as they clung to the sides of the vehicles—these were the guards, the ones who would defend the vulnerable if any Mazikin tried to attack. A small group of men and women huddled near the destroyed fence around the yard, each holding a wickedly curved blade. The Smith had told us they were supposed to take care of those who couldn’t make it to the wall. A quick decapitation would ensure that those too weak or injured would not be left to the mercy of the Mazikin. It wasn’t an ideal solution, since those who died inside the city were much weaker when they came back, but it still gave them a chance.
He’d given us the use of his most powerful vehicle for one purpose—to make it to the city’s central PA system. When I’d told Malachi what I wanted to do, he’d rewarded me with a kiss that I’d felt all the way down to my toes.
Someone banged against the side of the vehicle, and I looked down to see the Smith, a row of knives arrayed down his arms and around his belt. “We leave as soon as you return.” His dark eyes met mine. “I’m entrusting these people to you, Guards.”
“We will not fail,” said Malachi, who had been given a new set of clothes and equipped with a holster for knives that crisscrossed his chest. He climbed up next to me, followed by Takeshi and Ana, who was still favoring her right arm.
The engine growled as Treasa put it in gear. The Smith grinned at her. “Bring it back in one piece,” he shouted.
She saluted him, then gestured at us to hold on. Without giving us much of a chance, she floored it, and we went shooting forward. She swerved around the other vehicles in line, and I caught a glimpse of blurred faces, eyes wide and hopeful. The glowing light in the south tugged at me, but in the distance, I could hear the roar of a Mazikin horde. Treasa took a sharp right at the end of the block. Malachi’s knuckles were white as he clung to the bar and laid himself flat next to me on the roof of the vehicle. Ana and Takeshi were on his other side, squinting up ahead.
A massive barricade, made of metal scraps and bones, blocked the road in front of us. Treasa pushed a lever forward, and the heavy plow blade hit the street. Sparks flew from the road as it scraped the surface, and Malachi threw himself on top of me, holding my head against his chest as we collided with the barricade, sending debris flying up and over us. We crunched over what remained and roared onto a street past the Smith’s domain.
It was crowded with Mazikin and their slaves. Many of the humans were weighed down like pack mules with the Mazikin’s possessions. They were fleeing south, away from the rumbling ruin of the Bone Palace, and they scattered as we motored up the road. Treasa hadn’t bothered to raise the plow blade, preferring to mow through anything or anyone caught in our way. She’d been given one mission—get to the square and get out again—and she seemed determined to make it happen. Her head was low over the wheel as we collided with a mechanized cart that had broken down in an intersection. Metal shrieked as the vehicle scraped and skidded along the road ahead of us, finally careening onto the sidewalk as we barreled forward.
Through the windows and spaces between buildings, I could see that the ruins of the palace were giving off an eerie sapphire light. “Do you think the portal is still intact?” I yelled.
“Not if you dropped a grenade in it,” shouted Ana as we crashed into a smaller car and went up on one wheel as another flattened the car’s hood.
“The blue substance might not have been destroyed, though,” said Malachi close to my ear. “We don’t know what it was.”
I stared at it, new fear riding down my spine. Then I reminded myself that the dome was open, for now, at least, and that meant we had to have destroyed the portal. It meant Juri couldn’t possess anyone else. He might, in fact, be dead. The fight could be over.
If we got out of the city. Ahead of us, the stadium lights of the square were blinding. Mazikin scrambled from points west and north. A few humans wandered aimlessly, still wearing collars, while others lay destroyed on the street and sidewalk. It looked like a war zone.
“The Mazikin sought to punish all humans when the Tanner declared he had killed the Queen,” Takeshi said, his face grim.
Treasa slowed as she entered the square, where bodies lay thick on the ground, and blood was smeared across the cement. She ground to a halt in front of the platform where Malachi had been tortured. As we stood up on the flat part of the vehicle’s roof, the creatures spotted us. Some shrieked and dropped to all fours, scattering, but most ran forward.
“We have to keep them off of us,” I shouted to Takeshi and Ana. “And we’ll have to take turns.” I pointed to the steps that led up to the platform. Malachi’s blood still darkened its silvery surface. Malachi shuddered against me but didn’t say a word.
“We’ll keep them off you,” Takeshi said as he and Ana leaped off the loader and began to carve their way through any Mazikin stupid enough to approach. Treasa hunched at the w
heel, knife at the ready, while Malachi and I jumped from the back and onto the steps.
The PA system the Queen had used to address the entire city was only a few yards away. “Watch my back,” I said to Malachi as three Mazikin rushed the steps from the opposite side, out of Ana and Takeshi’s reach. “Then we’ll trade.”
He nodded and drew two knives, and he looked so fierce that the beasts slowed and began to circle him. I sprinted for the podium, stopping only to slam my blade into the chest of a torn-eared Mazikin who tried to get in my way. I grabbed for the microphone and pressed a button on the side, causing feedback to ring through the speakers.
I gazed up at the bright-white glow, the cracking dome, the carnage all around me. And I began to speak. “Attention, everybody. There’s a way out of this city. Go to the gates in the south, where the light is. Help whoever you see. Every human needs to go to the city gates. There’s a way out.”
I lowered the mic to find several of the humans in the square staring at me, dumbfounded. I looked right at them and repeated the instructions, pointing toward the south. “Malachi,” I called when I was finished. “Get up here and repeat that in every language you know!”
He finished off the last Mazikin opponent with a brutal twist of his blade and ran toward me, flinging a knife at an oncoming creature along the way and hitting it square between the eyes. He took the microphone from me and began speaking in a language I couldn’t identify. I left him to it and headed down the steps, searching the chaos for Takeshi and Ana, who were nowhere in sight.
“They need help!” called Treasa, waving her arm toward the first floor of a building at the edge of the square. “The Mazikin took them that way!”
I glanced back at Malachi, who was speaking in a different language now, and he frantically gestured at the building, telling me to go.
I ran down the steps, leaping over bodies and debris, and saw a cluster of Mazikin, all wearing cloaks with black triangles on the back. Ana was on the ground, blood splattered around her, and Takeshi was in front of her. He had a grenade in his hand.
“No!” I shouted, throwing myself forward and landing on a cloaked Mazikin’s back. I drew my blade across its throat and kicked another as it tried to stop me. “Get her to the vehicle!”
Takeshi had been seconds from blowing them both up—along with all of our grenades. It would have gotten us all to the gates, but not the way I wanted. While the Mazikin descended on me, all claws and jaws, Takeshi carried the unconscious Ana toward the vehicle. I stabbed and punched with all my might, taking out another and wounding one more, all while listening to Malachi’s steady voice, now speaking Spanish, repeating my message to the people of the city. I only hoped they listened.
Fangs clamped over my arm, sending a shock of pain screaming up to my shoulder. I opened my mouth to cry out, but a clawed hand closed around my throat. I kicked my captor, but he deflected and gestured to two others. They grabbed my arms between their teeth and pulled, a grisly game of tug-of-war. A rending agony knifed down the center of my body as the Mazikin in front of me raised his claws, preparing to tear me to shreds.
Suddenly, the world heaved and shook, knocking us all to the ground. Rocks rained down, and the Mazikin who’d had my arms let go, yelping. I began to crawl toward the open square, stones hitting my back and legs. Then one hit me hard in the head. The cement beneath me was churning like ocean waves, making it impossible to get to my feet.
Arms closed around my chest and dragged me forward. My feet skimmed along the ground as Takeshi said, “I think our work here is done, Lela.”
We were both thrown to the roiling ground as a fissure opened below the archway next to the platform and streaked its way across the square, creating a five-foot-wide chasm separating us from our vehicle. Malachi and Ana were already on top of the loader, though Malachi looked like he was about to leap off again to get to me.
“Get up!” shouted Takeshi as I felt a strange sensation.
Water. It gushed up out of the fissure at an incredible rate, flowing over my hands and soaking my knees. I shoved myself up and held Takeshi’s hand as we jumped over the widening fissure, splashing onto the cement and stumbling against the side of the front loader. The engine coughed and roared as Treasa began to back it up. Takeshi pushed me up the ladder, and Malachi grabbed my outstretched hand and pulled, wincing as he saw the torn places on my forearms. He laid me down on top of the loader and helped Takeshi up as a massive explosion sent a shock wave over the square. I raised my head to see a huge geyser of water rocket up from the ruins of the Bone Palace and hit the dome.
“Go!” I screamed to Treasa.
She slammed her foot against the pedal. We shot out of the square and headed west as the river rained down.
TWENTY-FOUR
TREASA WAS A TOTAL badass behind the wheel, crashing through anything that got in our way as we raced back to the Smith’s compound. Malachi held me close, doing what he could to heal my arms as we huddled on the top of the front loader. Takeshi was doing the same for Ana, but her wound was much worse—she’d nearly been disemboweled by Mazikin claws. She was pale, and so was he. He’d buried his face against her neck as he murmured to her, his desperation palpable. We’d have to fight to get to the gates, and she was barely conscious. The grenade belt was coiled around his arm, and I tugged it away from him and counted—we still had five left.
Malachi watched my shaking hands as I stroked the little spheres. “Do you think it worked? Do you think the people will head south?” he asked, bowing his head over mine as the deflected river water poured down.
“If our words didn’t do it, the river will.” It was a few inches deep on the roads now, flowing south. The force of the water hadn’t overcome the thick dam—instead, it had found another route, bubbling up and into the city. With nowhere else for the water to go, the place would fill up. We might have to swim to the gates.
Treasa motored back through the barricade and hit the horn as she shot along the road where the rest of the vehicles were parked. We were to be the lead, and the rest of the drivers shifted into gear, the fighters holding on to the sides, weapons at the ready.
The Smith’s voice boomed over us—he had a bullhorn pressed to his lips as his vehicle, another one with a plow attached, pulled away from the courtyard fence. “Help anyone who needs a ride. Kill any Mazikin who attempt to stop us. We only get out of this if we’re together!” He took a noisy breath and then repeated his message in two other languages before handing the bullhorn to Nazir, who repeated it in a few others. Already, other humans were flocking to the vehicles, which were sagging toward the flooded streets as their loads grew heavier. We’d never be able to take everyone. I could only hope the rest would follow after.
Malachi pulled his hands away from my arms. “They’re a little better,” he said as water dripped from his hair and into my eyes.
“They’re a lot better,” I said, flexing my fingers.
He ran a finger down my cheek. “You know why.”
I nodded, leaning in for a quick, devastatingly sweet kiss. I trusted his love completely. All I wanted was a future where I could explore that with him, and now it felt within reach. “How are you feeling?”
“Strong enough for one more fight,” he said as we lurched forward again.
I hung on while Treasa plowed through yet another barrier. The Mazikin were scarce here, but the humans were swarming. The Smith’s people grabbed the injured and heaved them onto the carts, calling to the others in at least a dozen languages, urging them to follow. The direction was hardly necessary; the water was rolling in waves over ankles and lapping at cloaks, threatening to weigh people down. One man sprinted toward us from the south, away from the gates. He waved his arms, and Treasa slowed enough for him to grab our ladder. He had a cloak over his head and grimy hands that grasped the rungs. “English?” he yelped as Malachi heaved him up to join us. The man pu
shed his hood back. He was covered in mud and soot, maybe having come up from the mines, and immediately threw himself down on his belly to keep from sliding off the side. “Name’s Keller,” he said. “Heard someone tellin’ everyone to run south!”
“That was us. What’s going on up there?” I couldn’t see more than a few blocks ahead. The light at the gates was so bright that it was blinding.
“The beasts have put up roadblocks and barricades. They’re not letting anyone through,” Keller replied, his head low over the bar we were clinging to. “No humans allowed beyond the edge of the mining zone. You might want to turn back.”
“Not a chance,” Treasa yelled.
“The mining zone ends about ten blocks north of the gates,” Takeshi shouted over the belching of the engines. He was stroking Ana’s hair. She was starting to come around, but she still didn’t look good.
Takeshi looked at the grenades in the belt, which I’d slung over my shoulder, and raised his eyebrows. “You’re the ranking officer. What do you want to do?”
I exhaled slowly, reminding myself that I had been Captain once before. I could do this. “We have to get as close as we can before we use the grenades,” I said. “We only have five, and we’re going to need at least one to blow the gates.” We were streaking by the jagged rock formations that marked the mining zone, heading for a light so bright it was now impossible to look at directly.
Treasa crossed an intersection where the water was only an inch or so deep. “There they are,” she shouted, pointing over the wheel at a brown mass of bodies on the other side of a roadblock.
“One block to the end of the mining zone!” Takeshi yelled back. “Get ready!”
We all drew weapons, and I handed one of mine to Keller. Treasa accelerated. “Hold on tight!” she called, looking over her shoulder. She did a double take when she saw Keller.
He grinned at her—then lunged forward and plunged his knife into her neck.