Wren noticed there was a black tube attached to his pack that came over his left shoulder, with a funny looking knobby ending. It was clipped to the shoulder strap.
“Able, what’s this for?” he asked.
Water, Able signed. He unclipped it and held it up in front of Wren’s mouth. Wren took it. Squeeze this between your teeth to drink.
Wren put the knobby end of the tube in his mouth and bit down on it slightly. A surprising gush of water flowed out and made him choke and splutter. Most of it ended up down his chin. When he looked up at Able, Wren could tell he was trying really hard not to laugh.
It takes a little practice.
Wren wiped his mouth and chin on the sleeve of his coat and then clipped the tube back in place. After that, they joined the rest of the team in the middle of courtyard, and they all set off together.
The team spread out into its familiar formation. Wick led the way, Finn and Sky pushed out to the sides, and Swoop brought up the rear, forming an outer ring of defense around their protectees. They set a steady pace, but Wren found that it was not difficult for him to keep. He was thankful. Sometimes when he traveled with adults, they seemed to forget that he had to take two or three steps for every one of theirs. Most times.
The team maintained focus as they passed through the empty urban ruins, speaking rarely, eyes constantly scanning. Even so, it seemed to Wren like they were almost relaxed. Though once he thought it about it, it kind of made sense. They were used to being out at night when deadly things were literally out hunting for them. Probably walking through the ruins in the daylight was a pleasant change. And even if there were bad people out here, it didn’t seem likely that anyone would be dumb enough to try to start something with a group so obviously well-armed.
As it was, they saw no one else the entire day. They took a handful of short breaks along the way, but for the most part they made good progress with very little trouble. Only once did Wick decide to change direction and lead them in a detour. Wren wondered how it was that Wick never seemed to be at a loss for which way to go. It was almost like following someone around their own neighborhood. He rarely stopped to think, and when he did it was never for long.
By the time the sun was sinking towards the horizon, they’d reached their destination: a burned-out, partially collapsed structure. Wren actually wouldn’t have thought it was safe to go inside of if Wick hadn’t strolled so confidently through the gaping hole in the front. Even though the ceiling sagged enough in the middle, enough to make Wren nervous, Wick took them all inside and then did something with his hand to a place on the rear wall. A few moments later, there was a clicking sound and what looked like one of the exposed concrete support beams swung gently open. There was a metal staircase leading upwards into darkness.
It was a wayhouse, cleverly hidden within the failing structure. Wren gave another look at the bulging ceiling.
“It’s safe,” Finn said, seeing his concern. “It’s actually reinforced, though you can’t really tell from here. Clever bit of work, really.”
They all filed in. Wick came in last, closing the door behind him. The air was a little stale, but not foul, which was reassuring. Wren noticed the door made a rubbery sort of sound when it shut, like it was vacuum-sealed.
It turned out there weren’t actually that many steps. Someone activated the lights, and Wren was surprised at the size of the room at the top of the stairs. From where he was standing, it looked far too shallow for all of them to fit, and Mouse had to hunch down to keep from hitting his head on the ceiling. Swoop, Sky, Finn, and Mouse paired up and disappeared from view, two to the left and two to the right.
When Wren reached the top, he saw that the room was actually very wide, spreading out maybe four times wider than it was deep, with the staircase right in the middle. The four men had split off to check the wayhouse, he realised. Wren could see them moving quickly down the halls on either side.
There were no real rooms that he could see; just one long corridor with a few short walls jutting out every so often to form stalls. To his right, the feet of several sets of steel-framed bunk beds poked out from several of the stalls. Off to his left, the place opened out a little more, and Wren assumed that was probably where the dining area and bathrooms were. He hoped there were doors on the bathrooms.
“It’s clear,” Swoop called as he came back towards the rest of the group. “Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves.”
“Anyone been through recently?” Gamble asked.
“Doesn’t look like it.”
“Doesn’t smell like it either,” Wick said. Wren looked up at him. “That’s actually a good thing. I’ve been in a couple that were fuuunky.” He held the word out for extra emphasis.
“Give it till morning,” Swoop said. “We ain’t exactly a bunch of sweet-smellin’ petunias.”
“Speak for yourself,” Sky said. “I’m as fresh as a baby’s bottom.” He tossed his pack on the floor in the stall closest to the entrance. “I call top bunk.”
“Just make sure it doesn’t squeak,” Finn said as he moved by, further down the corridor. Gamble kicked his backside as he passed. The others started making themselves at home, laying claim to various stalls by slinging their packs down. Gamble shepherded Cass, Wren, and Painter along the hall towards the beds. She stopped them at one a few down from the entrance.
“I’d like to put you two in here,” she said, indicating Cass and Wren. There wasn’t much to it. A set of bunk beds with thin mattresses, bare concrete floor, bare concrete walls. There was a single light fixture in the middle of the low ceiling. “And Painter, if you don’t mind, we’ll put you right next door with Mouse.”
Painter nodded. He looked exhausted. His goggles were down around his neck, and Wren could see the dark rings under his eyes, so dark they almost looked like bruises. Wren realized he couldn’t remember the last time Painter had actually spoken.
“Painter, are you OK?” Wren asked.
Painter looked at him and nodded. He inhaled deeply, like it was an effort. “Just r-r-really tuh-, really tired.” He gave a weak smile, but Wren got the impression there was something else going on.
“You go right ahead and sleep if you want,” Gamble said. “We’re here until morning.” Painter nodded again and wandered to the next stall over. “Same for you two. Rest and recover as much as you can, but feel free to do whatever you like. Just don’t leave.” She said the last part with a smile.
“Thanks,” Cass said.
Swoop passed by, on his way further down the hall. “I’m gonna rack out for a few.”
“Good,” Gamble said, and then a moment later called after him. “Make sure you eat something too.”
“You’re startin’ to sound like Mouse,” Swoop called back.
The remainder of the day was unremarkable for Wren. He and his mother ate some of their rations together in the dining area, on a wobbly steel table with mismatched chairs. Afterwards, he was so tired he just wanted to sleep. Cass helped him get ready for bed, which pretty much amounted to taking off his shoes and spreading his coat out on top of the mattress. Cass said she didn’t want Wren lying directly on that old thing. She kissed him on the forehead and then went and removed some things from her pack, so she wouldn’t wake him later. As Wren watched Cass, he saw her partially withdraw something and look at it for a moment.
She didn’t pull it all the way out of the pack, but he recognized the grip of Three’s pistol. She’d brought it along, even though he knew she didn’t have any ammunition for it. Maybe for her it was like his knife was to him. He didn’t really expect to use it, but he was glad to have it.