“Keep in contact, Preston,” Bartz said. “And the rest of you, I want you to make sure the Barnyard and the surrounding areas are absolutely secure. I’ll be watching.”
The others nodded.
Bartz nodded in turn, then marched out the exit with his four enforcers. They didn’t bother to close the door behind them.
LOFTY HEIGHTS
Flora stumbled forward, wheezing from exhaustion. She was one of the chosen few who had to carry a large duffle bag. It must have weighed at least a hundred pounds. The bag scraped and bruised her flesh from being thrown about. Worse was the aching tension in her lower back. She worried she might seize up, or even fall flat on her face.
But who was she to complain? If she’d been on the leading edge of the advance, she could have died, like so many had already. On the last push they lost another five men against a well-defended outpost at a key Seeville intersection. If they hadn’t been able to use the rocket launchers they might never have made it through at all.
Now, finally, they had broken through to the mall. It would only be a few more blocks. At least that’s what she told herself.
Seeville’s pedestrian mall no longer looked like a bustling hub of commerce. On the first segment, there was nobody to be seen. It was mess of bullet holes, broken glass, and dead bodies. Smoke and pungent chemicals permeated the air. Gunshots echoed from farther down the mall.
She remembered when the sight of blood made her ill. Had she become so desensitized to violence that her soft stomach no longer reacted? She didn’t find this to be in any way reassuring.
The group slowed as they came closer to the sporadic gunfire. They began skulking along the side, from shop to shop. Cecile took out her scope and examined the situation.
“The enforcers have a defensive barricade set up, but it’s not protecting them from this direction,” Cecile said. “They’re firing on positions farther down the mall, probably Adherents or mules. Once they see us that will change. Let’s take advantage while we can.”
They all nodded. Flora dropped her pack and prepared to run in with her weapon drawn.
When Cecile gave the go ahead, they charged, while Mehta more formally announced their presence with another rocket.
His aim was getting better. The rocket obliterated the entire right flank of their position. The rest scurried away and didn’t stand a chance.
“Genial,” Cecile quipped. She flagged the outposts down the mall and they gave a thumbs-up. “Grab the equipment, and let’s get to the rendezvous. Vite, vite.”
The rendezvous was in the eastern part of the mall. It was there that they could access the Old World high-rise condos that overlooked the southern end of the city and the sprawling railroad operations.
They passed through another stretch of the mall that had seen heavy fighting. In one area the whole front side of a building had collapsed inward. Fragments of metal, brick, wood, and blood were scattered about in a broad radius.
The group slowed and moved cautiously, some covering their noses and mouths with their hands. Not much farther down a door opened, and a woman with a tarnished face and tattered shirt urged them over. “We’re in here,” she whispered emphatically.
The woman was leaning out of the back entrance to one of the high-rise condos. The façade of the building was covered with the finest Spoke festival designs, including silver wheel frames arranged in a hexagonal formation. The windows sported freshly painted trim and the brick had a superficially distressed look. It was where many well-to-do Seeville businessmen lived, including Quenton Bartz. The Spoke people called the condos “Lofty Heights,” an appropriate moniker considering they housed the pinnacle of Spoke society.
Cecile led the approach. “Who’s we?” she asked. “Is Duncan here?”
“No. Some of the remaining Adherents and mules are here though.”
The group entered the indulgent building. A fake dog statue made out of tire inner tubes, gears and spokes greeted them in the foyer, along with a very real mule standing guard and wearing a grim expression. He gave them a cautious nod.
The woman led them down a corridor to a large living space. The walls were painted in a bright turquoise color, and glass statues in the shape of various types of birds adorned shelves on either side. Near the back was a leather couch where a man was lying down. Two other injured men were sitting with their backs to an old fireplace.
Two duffel bags similar to her own had been deposited haphazardly on the floor. There were also three bloodied bodies piled in a far corner.
“Venter, what happened?” Cecile asked, going to kneel by the man on the couch.
“Careful,” the woman with them said. “He’s pretty shaken up. Some broken bones.”
Venter raised his forearm in greeting regardless. His face was pale and covered in dirt.
“The guardian, it threw me down. Then it got Duncan, knocked him out. One of the Adherents managed to trigger one of the explosive packs, though. Took out the guardian.”
“So where’s Duncan?”
“Sorry,” Venter said, shaking his head slowly, and with visible anguish.
Cecile closed her eyes, her jaw clenching. Her focus returned quickly. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Besides the position we have on the mall, there’s only about twenty of us in the upper lofts here. Ten here, five next door, five a few doors down. There are more down near the wall, ready for the assault.”
Cecile nodded. It looked like the simple act of talking was taking its toll on him. “You need to rest. Who’s in charge?”
“Arsalan—by the windows, upstairs.” Venter pointed diagonally up toward the back of the building.
Cecile turned toward the staircase at the back of the room, but she paused when she heard some commotion from the rear of the house, from where they’d come in.
They all tensed and drew their weapons, until the same woman who had led them in escorted in three additional men. One was Nobura, a thick bandage around his neck. Beside him was another stern Shinogi, and on the other side was Talon. Despite herself, Flora draped her arms around Talon, an embrace that he reluctantly accepted but didn’t reciprocate.
Nobura looked mildly peeved by Flora’s sentiment, so she quickly relinquished her hold on Talon. Nobura held his neck and wheezed emphatically at Cecile, “I’m here now, while my people are dying.”
Cecile answered smartly. “Yes. Thank you, General. Please follow me.”
Flora trailed behind the Shinogi, Mehta, and Cecile as they made their way up two flights of stairs, and then into the back half of the building. They crowded into a dark room with closed shutters. Three men were already there, two of them looking out a slit in the shutters. A rocket launcher lay on the floor, as well as a number of rifles and stacks of ammo.
Gunshots and explosions reverberated behind the windows, making the shutters tremble.
Arsalan turned to them, a grim look on his face. “Took you long enough,” he said.
“We actually got here faster than I expected,” Cecile said, frowning. “There was little resistance on the mall.”
Arsalan cast a cautious glance at Nobura. “That’s because our SLS friends are kicking up a stink down there, but they won’t hold for long. There’s a bunch of spider bots repairing the automatic machine-guns they have in the guard towers. Once those are up again they’re going to eat it bad.”
Arsalan moved to the side, motioning for them to take a look for themselves.
They took turns glancing out through bends in the blinds. It provided an excellent view of the Barnyard and the surrounding area. Directly below them was a forty-foot drop onto the main train line. Past the train line was the Barnyard wall and two large gun turrets. From their vantage point they could make out two main areas of conflict, one far along the Barnyard wall to the west, and one far along the Barnyard wall to the east. Hundreds of Essentialist men in each location were assaulting the walls.