“Trip on the door, thirty-second delay off that on the stairs, plus another trip at the top.”
“How tough to rewire the door to a clacker?”
“Easy day… Unless they decide to come knockin’ while I’m workin’ on it.”
“Alright. Change of plans, gentlemen,” Gamble said. “We’re going to do some blockade running.”
“So, pretty much what I said the first time?” Swoop said.
“Yes, Swoop, you’re very smart, we should always listen to you, et cetera. We’ve still got to hold out three hours.”
Gamble quickly laid out the plan. Mouse, Sky, and the three principals would remain on the roof with Wick: Sky to relay information about the Weir and their movements, Mouse to keep an eye on Wick, and the others, Cass assumed, largely to stay out of the way.
Swoop, Finn, Able, and Gamble were all headed back down to the bottom floor to rewire the explosives. Or rather, the three of them would provide security while Swoop did the work. And if the Weir came while they were down there, they would try to make a withdrawal up the stairs while continually engaging.
“And if that doesn’t work…” Gamble said, looking at Cass with a flat expression. “Good luck.” She held out her jittergun to Cass.
“You keep it,” Cass said.
“Won’t do you any good if it’s on me and we get overrun.”
“Don’t get overrun then.”
Gamble extended the gun out further and bobbed it up and down, waiting for Cass to take it. Cass held her hand palm out, and then flipped it around. Her thin blades sprang from their housing under her fingernails with a snick. For a moment the two women just looked at each other. And then, with a sigh, Gamble returned the jittergun to her leg holster.
“I can come with you, you know,” Cass said.
Gamble shook her head. “Better up here. Puts four shooters top and bottom. Well… three shooters and Miss Fancy Nails up top, I guess.” She flashed a quick smile. “Back in a few.”
The four of them headed towards the stairs, but Finn stopped and jogged back. He knelt down by Wick and put his head against his brother’s, and whispered a few words. Wick gave a little nod and patted him on the cheek. Then Finn rejoined the others and they disappeared down the darkened corridor.
“What do we do?” Painter asked.
“I suppose we wait,” Cass said.
“And hope the Weir don’t get tired of just standing around,” Sky said. He gave a little nod and returned to his position at the edge of the roof. Painter went and found a place near one of the large ventilation shaft covers, where he could be in the sun, but out of the wind. He plopped his pack down to use as a pillow and stretched out on his back, with an arm over his eyes.
Wick, of course, was still sitting, propped against some of the packs, with his rifle laid across another one where he could keep it aimed at the door. Mouse grabbed two of the packs off the ground, one in each hand, and lugged them over towards the door. Cass guessed they were a good sixty pounds each, but he didn’t seem to have too much trouble with them. He swung the door shut with his foot, and then piled the packs in front of it, one on top of the other.
“Gamble, Mouse,” he said. “Door’s braced, let me know when you’re on your way back up.”
Wren had gone to join Sky by the roof’s edge. He had his hood up, and was sitting cross-legged next to him. Cass walked over and sat down beside her son.
They all sat in silence for a time, watching the Weir down below. As terrible as they were, Cass found that the fear they inspired was diminished by the broad daylight. Surely the darkness of night lent them some greater measure of terror. Even so, seeing so many gathered as one force was daunting. The thought of the battle that awaited them was not one she relished.
But at the same time, if what Wren said was true, if Asher was alive in some measure, and exerting control over those creatures, something stirred within her at the idea of doing all she could to destroy them. Asher had hounded them long enough, had caused them more than a lifetime’s worth of sorrow. Cass would do whatever it took to ensure that he would never reach Wren again.
And another thought hung like a black cloud in the back of her mind, one she didn’t even want to acknowledge. The great dreadful unknown that had haunted her since her Awakening: the fear that she might somehow revert to a mindless thrall of the Weir. Now, a new possibility arose, more nightmarish than any previously conceived.
If Asher had found his way into the Weir, was there anything preventing him from reclaiming Cass as well?
“Hey, Governor,” Sky said. “All those down there. Any chance you could wake any of them?”
Wren was still and quiet for a few moments — before he finally shook his head slowly.
“Yeah,” Sky said. “Just thought I’d ask. Makes me feel better if I know that before I have to shoot them.”
The comment lingered in the air, heavy with the imminent storm that awaited them all.
“Could you do it again?” Cass asked. “Could you send Asher away again?”
“I don’t know, Mama,” Wren said. “I wouldn’t know where to start.” She leaned forward so she could see his face beneath his hood, and his eyes were sweeping back and forth, as if searching for a solution. “It’s him. I know it’s him. But he’s different somehow. He seems… bigger.”
Cass didn’t know what to make of that. Though it seemed that she so rarely knew what to make of anything these days. She put her arm around her son, not knowing what else to do.
“I wish Three were here,” Wren said.
“I know, baby.”
Surely it was pure coincidence. But moments later, the Weir below erupted in a truly appalling clamor, an evil cacophony of short barking bursts. Wren instantly clapped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. Yet again, it was like no sound Cass had ever heard them make before. Even as she winced against the noise, her brain processed it all with the knowledge that Asher was behind it. And just as their strange call had become intelligible to her, this too she understood. It was the sound of a horrible mechanical laughter.
And she knew that Asher was mocking them. Taunting them. Toying with them, as was his way. Cass understood now. He wouldn’t breach the building. Not while the sun was up. He was content to keep them contained until dusk, when the full force of the Weir would be available.
Rage kindled in her heart. Not an explosive, violent anger, but a cold, hardened wrath. And as she cradled Wren’s head to her chest, she found herself no longer dreading the impending battle — but instead inviting it.
Sky was a patient man, but knowing his wife was downstairs with nothing but a couple of doors between her and all that trouble made every minute into a test of his will and focus. Everybody had their jobs to do. His was to watch all those Weir in the street below. It was not his job to worry. But, well, he was worried. He just had to trust his teammates to do their jobs the way they trusted him to do his.
When Gamble and the others finally returned to the roof, everyone huddled up near the middle, where Wick was. As he joined them, Sky hoped his relief at seeing his wife again wasn’t too obvious. The team always gave him grief over it, but never as much as Gamble did herself.
“Gettin’ close to go time,” Swoop said.
“Yep,” Finn answered.
It’d been about two and a half hours since Lil had sent her first message. They’d already gone over the plan multiple times, with multiple contingencies, but they talked it through again anyway. It all came down to basically the same thing. Swoop had rigged the fused front doors with a heavy charge, laid out to disintegrate a good portion of the entrance and turn it into a massive shotgun blast. After it detonated, Gamble, Swoop, Able, Finn, and Sky would kill as many Weir as they could, while Cass and Mouse carried Wick out, and Wren and Painter made a run for Lil and her people. After that, it was pretty much react and hope for the best.