“The other entrance?”
“Yes. It comes out on the other side of the Haven.”
Roman scowled. Sparks hadn’t mentioned any other way into the cells.
They found a place near the back of the eager spectators, far from the groups of Gavin’s men who patrolled around. There were far more thugs than usual tonight. Gavin wasn’t taking chances.
The crammed hall made Roman claustrophobic. The bare walls echoed the crowds excited chattering, and the stench of hundreds of unwashed bodies clogged the air. He supposed he should be thankful for the large turnout; it made it that much harder for them to be noticed.
He looked up at the large fluorescent lights which lit the hall. No power cut just yet.
Caleb and Sparks better hurry the hell up.
“Um… Boss,” Tan said, “we may wanna get out of sight. Now.”
A group of six thugs approached, pushing through the crowd.
“Shit. Come on, let’s make ourselves scarce.”
Forcibly pushing Kelvin, they shuffled back several rows, hiding their faces until the guards had passed. Roman let out a sigh of relief. They had been lucky, so far. And for this to work, they needed all the luck they could get.
With a metallic shriek, a thug pulled open the gate, and the crowd went silent. All eyes watched, waiting for the first fighters to emerge. Roman’s heart hammered in his chest. His thoughts raced with each potential disaster. What if they planned on killing Spencer first? What if Candle showed up before the lights died and Roman could sneak through the gate?
As the wait for the fighters grew longer, the silence was replaced by a low murmuring. The thug who opened the gate shrugged, shuffling his feet awkwardly.
Where were the fighters?
Had something already happened down there?
At that moment, Kelvin finally decided to be brave, or be an idiot, depending on whose side you were on. He spun around, grabbed Roman by the arm, and shouted at the top of his lungs, “Help!” As one, the whole hall turned to look at them.
Fuck.
Roman punched Kelvin in the face with his free hand. Kelvin fell backwards, but his grip held strong and he pulled Roman down with him. They rolled down the stone steps, knocking over everyone in their way. Roman cursed, room spinning around him, one hand pushing Kelvin away from him, the other trying to keep hold of his gun.
They finally stopped, knotted into a pile of fallen bodies. Kelvin was still yelling. People scrambled to get away, but no one seemed able to find their feet. Roman head-butted Kelvin, smashing his forehead into the bastard’s nose. Kelvin’s grip still held.
Tan appeared, knife in hand. In one smooth motion, he reached down, grabbed Kelvin by the neck, and cleanly sliced off his one remaining ear. Kelvin’s yelling turned to howls of pain. He released Roman.
Roman scrambled to his feet, darting back up the bleachers. People hastened to get out of his way. “Run. Now!” he shouted, as if Tan wasn’t already two steps ahead of him.
He spared a glance backwards for Ruby. There was a flash of her auburn hair, scurrying between two men, then she was gone. Good. When Roman looked back in front of him, Tan had also disappeared. Roman reached the top step and jumped down into the narrow gap between the rubble-made bleachers and the wall. Pain shot up his legs as he landed on the concrete floor.
The gap was barely a yard wide, and he sprinted down it. He was out of sight, but he would be stuck down here until he made his way around to the other end of the wall. He had to get there before—
An arrow clanged into the floor in front of him.
Roman skidded to a halt, looking up. There were three of them, scowling down at him from the top of the bleachers, all armed with crossbows.
“Fuck my luck,” Roman whispered to himself, then raised his hands in surrender.
Gavin’s mutated face appeared, grinning madly. “Good evening, my good man,” he called down.
Roman’s hand twitched, every muscle screaming at him to pull out his gun and nail the bastard between the eyes. Fortunately, his better judgment prevailed.
“Evening Gavin,” he replied. “It’s bad for business to treat your guests like this. I just came to watch a good fight.” It was a long shot to expect Gavin to let him walk out. But, truth be told, there weren’t many other options.
Gavin shook his head. His mutie eye rolled with the movement. “I don’t believe that’s why you’re here. I think you’re here for Spencer. So let me help you out: I’ll send you to Spencer. I’ll even let you share a cell.”
Roman slowly nodded. Please, if there really is a god of luck, he prayed, now would be a really good time for a power cut.
The lights stubbornly remained on.
What the hell were Sparks and Caleb doing?
14
Sparks beamed at the overcast sky. He opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, tasting the rain. Cold. Crisp. Rubbing his hands together excitedly, he turned his gaze to the power relay station below them. He had never seen anything like it. Hundreds of thick black cables hung between giant steel-framed towers. Sparks swore he could hear them humming. Beneath them were hundreds of huge metal cubes, forming a maze of alleyways. He wondered what they were for. Could you store electricity inside one of those?
He scratched his head. What did electricity even look like? He had always imagined little balls of light traveling through wires. But thinking about it now, that seemed foolish. Whatever. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was about to be activated.
Beside him, Caleb said, “I could use a smoke.”
“What you really need is a bath. You reek.”
They were standing on the roof of a neighbouring building, three stories high. From here they had a perfect view of the entire station. It was lit by four huge spotlights, one on each corner. Sparks spied a large building in the centre of the station; that had to be the control room. An obvious target. But how was he meant to know how to switch off an entire power station? That sounded technical. He wished Caleb had approved of Sparks’ plan to just tear the entire place down.
“Security’s a bit tighter than usual, I reckon,” Caleb said. “I don’t like it.”
Sparks had counted over two dozen militia so far, patrolling in pairs, most of them armed with axes. At least two had crossbows, and Sparks hated bows — where was the thrill in fighting from a safe distance? At least none of the guards had guns, as far as he had seen.
“Who cares how many there are?” he said. “There’s one of me. They’re totally outmatched.”
Caleb ignored him. “It’s just strange. There’s four of these stations around the city. Why have so many men at this station? Why do they expect Candle to target the power stations at all?”
“Makes sense, doesn’t it? Electricity is important. Gotta defend it.”
“Yes. But, at the very least, Candle’s obvious target would be the wind farms themselves, or the relay station in district 12.”
“Why is that one important?”
“That station connects directly to the wind farms,” Caleb explained. “If Candle destroyed that one, it would cut the power to the entire city.”
“How do you know so much about this anyway?”
“I’m not just a pretty face.”
“You and I have very different definitions of pretty.”
The rain was falling harder now. Sparks shook his head and sent drops spraying from his hair. His excitement was quickly growing. He couldn’t believe his luck — Roman was letting him attack a whole squad of militia! Then he would rush to the Haven to help Roman capture Spencer. Sparks grinned at the idea of fighting in the Haven. There would be plenty of good competition there. It would be like old times.