The first of them came into view.
Sparks gasped, eyes widening.
It was the militia, marching down the street. He watched as they continued to appear. Shit, there must have been well over a hundred of the bastards, dressed in their bulky armour, holding axes, hammers, knives, and guns.
Sparks moved deeper into cover, heart hammering. Why the hell were the militia leaving Reformation square? Was it because Sparks had destroyed a power station? He liked that thought — it meant that he had done something important.
The first line of militia passed his hiding spot. He watched them carefully. They didn’t walk like fighters. It was obvious in their footing, their stance and the way they held their weapons. These were men who spent more time eating than fighting. Pathetic. But, Sparks noted with a frown, they were well armed. Many had crossbows, and dozens had the most cowardly weapon of alclass="underline" guns.
Sparks listened to what the militia were shouting.
“Shit on Candle!”
“Kill them all!”
“Fuck the bloody muties!”
When they had passed, Sparks crept to the alleyway corner and peered out. Where were they going? There was only one answer that made sense: they must have found Candle’s hideout.
That left Sparks with a choice. He turned to the four towers of the Ministries, then back to the militia. Should he follow them, or use this opportunity to get into the Ministry building?
Wasn’t much of a choice. If he didn’t follow then he would be left out of the fighting. And that wasn’t an option.
He kept to the shadows as he stalked the mob. Not that any of them bothered to look behind. Two streets on, he saw one of the militia separate from the pack and step into a side alley. Sparks smiled, quickening his pace. Once all the militia were ten paces from the mouth of the alley, Sparks darted inside.
The militia had his back to Sparks and was pissing on the ground. His axe leaned against the alley wall beside him. It was almost too perfect.
Sparks snuck forward and grabbed the axe. “You should have held it in,” he said casually.
“What the—” The militia spun around, nearly spraying Sparks with piss.
Sparks rammed the axe’s handle into the man’s throat, silencing him, then kicked his kneecap, hard. In true manly fashion, the man didn’t let go of his dick as he fell, landing face first.
Sparks placed his boot against the side of the man’s head, pushing it firmly against the ground. He placed the edge of the axe against his neck. “You thinking about screaming?”
“Oh shit. Oh shit. You gotta be—”
“Shut up and this might not be your very last piss.”
The man quickly shut his mouth.
“Much better. Okay, so I’m going to call you…” Sparks gaze passed over the militia’s thick mane of blond hair, then to where he was desperately fumbling to buckle his trousers. “Small. Is that okay with you?”
Small nodded, eyes focused on the axe.
“Good. Now let’s start with the easy question. Where were you going?”
Small didn’t answer. Sparks pressed the axe down harder.
“Argh. Stop, please! We’re going to the southern power station.”
“Why?”
“That’s where Candle’s hiding!”
Sparks frowned, confused. “Why would he be there? The Ministry controls the stations.”
“I don’t know, I swear!” Small was turning pale. “We only got our orders tonight.”
“And what were your orders?”
“To capture Candle, as all of the other mut—” Small stopped himself before he could finish saying muties.
“Is Juliette with you?”
“Yes.”
Sparks raised the axe. “Anything else you think you should share?”
“I swear I don’t know any—”
“Cool.” Sparks slammed the butt of the axe’s handle into Small’s temple, knocking him out. He tossed the weapon and returned to the street. None of the militia were coming back to find their lost man.
Sparks grinned as he set off after them. This was going to be fun.
26
“Wake up.”
Roman grew aware of a hand on his shoulder, shaking him. Without bothering to open his eyes, he grunted and tried to squirm away. His aching body didn’t want to move.
“Wake up, Roman.”
“Fuck off,” he muttered. He had been dreaming of something… bad. He couldn’t remember. Gavin had been in it, his freakish eye glaring at Roman.
“Wake up, damn it.”
“You should listen to him, Boss. We gotta go.”
It felt like he had only been asleep for a couple of minutes. He forced one eye open. With a groan of dismay, he recalled the events at the Haven. Spencer got away. Ruby was captured. Fuck.
A pair of large hands grabbed his body and pulled Roman from his chair. He staggered, but the hands held him upright. “What’s going on?” he mumbled.
Caleb slung Roman’s arm over his own shoulder and led him to the door. “I’ll explain on the way.”
Outside, the rain had stopped. Roman regained enough consciousness to let go of Caleb and walk unaided. It was still dark, so he couldn’t have slept for more than four or five hours. Tan led the way, looking as exhausted as Roman felt.
“Where are we going?” Roman asked.
“South.”
“Why?”
“The militia are on the move,” Caleb said. “All of them.”
“What?” Roman shook his head, trying to wake himself up properly. He must have misheard. “Juliette wouldn’t—”
“She is.”
“How do you know?”
“She sent messengers to every available mercenary crew, offering a small fortune for a one-night job. Tonight.”
“Juliette’s never hired mercenaries before.”
“She has now.”
Roman frowned. “You think many will take the offer?”
“They’re a greedy bunch, so some will. But most won’t, I reckon. I spoke with an old colleague. He turned her down as soon as he heard what she wanted.”
“Let me guess,” Roman said, knowing there was only one reason why Juliette would leave Reformation Square, “she’s discovered where Candle is hiding.”
Caleb nodded. “I reckon she had men watching the Haven. After the attack, all they would have to do is tail Candle — he would have led them right to his base.”
“Which is where?”
“That’s the strange part. It’s the south power station.”
“Huh?” Roman rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Candle has taken over the station?”
“Juliette thinks so.”
“All the electricity from the wind farms goes through that station, right? So Candle could cut the power to the entire city…” Roman trailed off as he looked up at the nearest street light. It was still on.
“Apparently.”
Roman frowned. He felt like Candle was two steps ahead of him, planning something that he couldn’t see. Why destroy the lights and the fuse boxes wherever he goes, then take over a power station and not cut the power?
“This isn’t right,” he said, mostly to himself.
Tan laughed. “That’s a fucking understatement of the decade. We got into this mess because you wanted to kill Candle, for Juliette. Now we’re going to try stop Juliette taking Candle, because we need him. That’s fucked up.” Tan spun a long serrated blade in his hand as he talked. Roman hadn’t noticed it before. “Oh and it gets better: Gavin cut my hair! In case you haven’t noticed, that’s worse than not right.”
Caleb chuckled. “Your hair looked stupid anyway.”