Dawnbreaker: Legends of the Duskwalker - Book 3 (23 page)

She was still in the room. Gamble was still in the room.

“Cass!” Mouse called.

Cass walked to the base of the compound and gathered up the rope. The end was fuzzed where it’d been cleanly severed. She looked back up at the window above. Listened to the mass of cries. They were filling the room. The room where Gamble was.

“Cass!” Mouse barked. “Move! Now!”

His commanding voice burned away the last of her daze and the magnitude of their danger crystallized.

“Moving,” Cass said. She didn’t bother trying to unhook with one hand, just stuffed the remaining rope into the crook of her left arm, against her body. “Moving to you!”

She took off, running as fast as she could, the rucks bouncing and threatening to overthrow her with every step, while a storm of Weir swirled and raged above and behind her. And as the gap widened and their cries faded, no matter how much she wanted to wake from this new nightmare, Cass knew there was nothing she could do to save her friend and sister now or ever.

j
Charles stared
out the window of his apartment, watching the sun slide into the horizon, taking his spirits down with it. He hadn’t slept much in the past thirty-six hours, and time was dragging, either slowing him down or maybe making the world move faster. Either way, he felt like he was having trouble keeping up.

Edda had said the trip would take her three days. It was now the fourth day since she’d set out for Morningside, and it was drawing to an end with no sign of her. jCharles had spent the day before anxiously expecting her arrival until nightfall, and then spent the night anxiously speculating about what her failure to show might mean. None of the possibilities were good. Maybe she’d just made off with the money. When he considered the idea of Edda being a talented con who’d just taken him for a big chunk of his limited funds, he actually felt a little relief. And when jCharles realized he was considering that the
best
case scenario, it made all the other options seem that much worse.

He was going to have to talk with Hollander. Hollander was one of the top dogs in the Greenmen; the semi-official police force that kept Greenstone’s citizens in check and its many conflicts behind the scenes. Not quite a friend, maybe, but a professional with whom jCharles mostly had common cause. Mostly. If jCharles had any hope of defending Greenstone, Hollander was going to have to be part of the plan. But how could jCharles even begin to explain?

A familiar knock at the apartment door interrupted his thoughts; Nimble. jCharles crossed to it.

“Yeah, Nim,” he called through the door, before he reached it. And then, opening it, “What’s up?”

“Edda’s back,” Nimble said. jCharles had gone so far down the rabbit hole of expecting never to see her again that it took a moment for him to understand what Nimble had just said.

“Oh,” jCharles said. “Oh, great.”

Nimble twitched his head to the side, like maybe it wasn’t so great.

“Think maybe you oughta bring her up,” he said, “’stead a you goin’ down.”

That wasn’t a good sign. Nimble knew jCharles didn’t like doing business anywhere but down in the bar. But jCharles never doubted his man’s instincts.

“All right,” he said. Nimble headed back downstairs. jCharles left the door cracked, went to his private collection and poured two tumblers of the good stuff. As he was putting the bottle away, Nimble knocked again.

“Yeah, come on,” jCharles said. The door pushed open slowly and Nimble ushered Edda in. jCharles could see in an instant she was a changed woman. The lazy self-assuredness was gone, replaced by a barely-restrained wildness about the eyes. He didn’t need to hear her story to know what Wren had told him was all true. He handed her the drink as she came in, and she downed it in one long pull. “Edda. I’m... relieved.”

She nodded, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You need another?” he asked, pointing to the empty tumbler. She nodded again. “Come in, have a seat,” jCharles said as he took the glass and went to pour her a second, fuller glass. Nimble hovered by the entrance, eyebrows raised while he waited for some direction from jCharles. jCharles gestured that he’d take it from here. Nimble nodded and pulled the door quietly closed behind him as he left.

When jCharles turned around, Edda was still standing near the door, looking awkward.

“Please,” he said, holding out a hand towards one of the chairs. She hesitated, then looked down at the clothes. They were grimy, travel-stained. She was worried about getting dirt in his home. The concern was unexpected, and touching. “Don’t worry, I track mud in here all the time.”

She didn’t look convinced.

“Anything gets on the furniture, I won’t make Mol clean it up, I promise.”

She shrugged a little to herself, then nodded and took the offered seat, and the drink. He was glad to see her sip this one. They sat in silence for a few moments, while she gathered herself.

“Took a day one more,” she said. “Sorry ’bout dat.”

“It’s no problem, Edda.”

“I did how you say,” she continued. “Morn’side, just for what I see.” She stopped, took another sip, stared at her hands. Disappeared into herself.

“And what’d you see?” jCharles prompted. Edda came back to herself, but kept watching her hands.

“Death,” she said. “Blood. Rubble.” Then she looked up at him. “Dat city, it gone.”

jCharles sat back in his chair, sipped his own drink.

“But dat already you know,” Edda said, holding up a finger.

“Feared,” jCharles said. “Didn’t know.”

Edda nodded. “And de rest?”

“The rest?”

Edda nodded again, but this to herself, confirming something she’d been uncertain about. “I run up nort’, down sout’, some bit east. Dat why I’m gone four day.” She paused, licked her lips. “Same t’ing all ’round.”

“The same... How?”

She shook her head at the remembrance.

“Like hell come eat ’em up and spit de bones.”

jCharles had thought he’d been expecting the worst; the reality was somehow worse still.

“How many places did you go?” he asked.

“Yours and t’ree beside.” Edda sat back, took another sip of her drink, then set it on the side table between them.

“Anything bigger than Morningside?” jCharles asked. Based on what he’d heard, there weren’t many places left as big as Morningside, maybe in the whole world. But he’d never been to see for himself, and he didn’t know much about the other cities across the Strand.

“Not much out dat way big as Morn’side. Not much here, eit’er.” Edda shook her head. “Dat don’t seem to help it, not one bit.”

All that jCharles had feared and more. Morningside was truly gone, wiped away by the Weir. No, not by the Weir... by Wren’s brother. By Asher. But it hadn’t stopped there. With Edda’s revelation, he felt a tiny hope die in his heart, not having known until that moment he’d even harbored it. The hope that Morningside’s destruction had been an act of vengeance against that city alone, one that would end there. Instead, that had only been its beginning.

Edda was watching him closely, studying his face.

“You t’ink dat comin’ west,” she said. “Comin’ here.”

jCharles nodded.

“Well I take dat meal,” she said. “But you keep de rest your money. I t’ink maybe you need it more I do.” She nodded at him. “Sure I know.”

“Deal’s a deal, Edda. That money’s yours now. All eight thousand.” She shook her head and got to her feet. jCharles rose with her. “I appreciate the thought Edda, but I hate to be in debt to anyone.”

“What happen out dere, dat I not believe if not I see for my own self,” Edda said as she walked over to the door and opened it part way. “What it might be is you just save my life. So I take dat meal. Keep your money, save your own.”

jCharles stood next to his chair, blinked back at her, uncertain of what else to say. She gave him another nod and headed down the stairs to collect the only payment she’d accept. A few moments later, Mol came out of the back room holding Grace. It was obvious she’d listened in to the whole conversation.

jCharles walked over, put his arms around both his girls, and held them tight.

L
ater that night
, jCharles found himself seated in Hollander’s tiny office, listening to a more detailed accounting of Edda’s story. He’d caught up with her down in the bar before she left and convinced her to come along with him to meet with the Greenman. Now, Hollander was leaned back in his chair, chin low, brow furrowed, trying to absorb everything he was hearing. He was a big, dark-skinned man with heavy features; square jaw, strong brow, a cartoon of a law enforcer brought to life.

“And you got all this corroborated,” Hollander said, looking at jCharles when Edda was done.

“Yeah,” jCharles answered. “Or, well, Edda was my corroboration. The first time I heard about it was from a boy who’d escaped it.”

Hollander grunted. “And I can talk to him?”

“No,” jCharles said. “He left a few days ago.”

“But I took vid while I out dere,” Edda said. “If you wanna see for true.”

“That’s not necessary,” Hollander said, holding up a hand. “But uh...” He stopped, sniffed. Shrugged. “I guess I’m just not sure what you’re asking for, here, jCharles.”

“I’m not asking for anything, Holl,” he said. “Not yet, anyway. Seems like the kind of thing you oughta know about though, wouldn’t you say?”

“Maybe. I mean, yeah, it’s bad news, obviously. But there’s not much we can do for anybody over that side.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” jCharles said. “I’m worried about when it hits this side.”

“I don’t see why you think it will,” Hollander replied. “Seems like an eastern problem to me.”

“It’ll spill over the Strand at some point. It’s coming, Holl. And we’re right out there on the tip of it. When it comes, it’s gonna hit us first.”

“You sound awfully sure.”

“I
am
sure.”

“Well,” Hollander said. And he shrugged again. “I got about two hundred men and women between active and reserves. Every one of ’em willing to die on that wall if it comes to it. So, again, beyond that, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Maybe recruit more? Issue a warning? Something besides sitting around waiting to get smashed?”

“And tell people what, jCharles? That bad things
might
be coming from the east one day? Get everyone all riled up, so they start hoarding everything? Looting? Last thing I want to do is stir up anything that looks like fear. I’m not sure you appreciate just how fine a line we all walk between getting along and tearing ourselves to pieces out here.”

“Oh, I do,” jCharles said. “Probably more than anyone but you.”

“Yeah, well,” Hollander said. He laced his fingers together and rested his hands on top of his head. “You have the privilege of walking in the grey there, don’t you? I’m the one that’s gotta be the white hat.”

“You know I do everything I can to help you and your people, Holl.”

“You do, and I appreciate it. We all do. Mostly. I just mean people expect different things from me. You can nose around, call in favors, do whatever you need to do, and everybody just assumes you’ve got some business you’re handling that no one else needs to know about. As soon as
I
start that up, people get antsy. Uptown, Downtown, the Dive, doesn’t matter... every triggerman out there would assume I’m about to roll on them. Half the time I’m fighting off
baseless
rumors. I can only imagine what might happen if I
actually
started gearing up for something. Particularly something that might not ever happen.”

jCharles looked down at Hollander’s desk, frustrated. He should’ve been able to make a better case than he was, but he didn’t know how to get through to the man.

“Look at it like this. If it was the Bonefolder sitting here, telling me this instead of you,” Hollander continued, “I’d give it about twelve hours until you were knocking on my door, asking about what she had to say. And less than half that if, after she left, I started calling up the reserves. I fully expect I’m gonna hear from her by lunchtime tomorrow already, just on account of this meeting.”

“This is bigger than all of that, Holl. Bigger than any of us.”

“I’m not arguin’ that.”

“So you do believe me.”

Hollander’s top lip disappeared behind his bottom teeth. It reappeared a moment later with a quiet smack. “I believe that you believe.”

“All right,” jCharles said, and he got to his feet. He knew that was the best he was going to get from Hollander. “Thanks for your time, Holl.”

“Door’s always open,” Hollander said. “Long as you call first.”

“Yeah,” jCharles answered.

“How’s that baby?” Hollander asked.

“Perfect in every way.”

Hollander smiled. “Make sure you enjoy every day with her. Even the ones where you feel like a walking dead man.”

jCharles nodded, flashed a smile he didn’t feel, motioned for Edda to exit ahead of him. She squeezed by and out into the hall. Before jCharles left, Hollander spoke.

“Hey,” he said. jCharles looked back; Hollander was leaning forward in his chair now, serious. “Anything comes over that wall, I’ll be the first one to meet it. Count on that.”

“Yeah, Holl. I know,” jCharles said. And then after a moment, added. “I’ll be right there with you.”

Hollander nodded. “Give my best to Mol.”

“Sure thing.”

jCharles followed Edda out, down the narrow corridor to the narrow stairs. Everything about Hollander’s office seemed about one-third too narrow. They exited on the ground floor, stepped out onto the sidewalk out front. There weren’t many people out on the streets at this time of night, the in-between time, after the respectable citizens had closed up and hunkered down and before the less respectable ones were up and about. And it wasn’t usually that busy at any time of night over by where the Greenmen had set up shop anyway.

“I run on my way, I reck’n,” Edda said.

“You have a place to stay for the night?”

“Sure.”

“And you’re not going to let me pay you what I owe you?”

“Son, you can send it straight if it make you feel better, but I send it right back.”

jCharles chuckled, held out his hand for a shake. Edda took it in both hands, but didn’t shake it. Just pressed firmly.

“What’ll you do now, Edda?”

“Same as you,” she said. “Run west.”

jCharles smiled, couldn’t quite bring himself to tell her he wouldn’t be leaving Greenstone.

“Take care of yourself,” he said.

“Sure. And you.”

He took back his hand, and they separated. But as he turned to head home, Edda’s simple words sunk deep; thoughts of his wife and daughter invaded, shook his resolve. He’d thought he was resolute, ready to guard the city with his life, to protect it at all costs. But what if his wife and child were safe somewhere else? What if he could pack them up, send them away with Edda, with Nimble maybe? Was he willing to stay behind? He turned back.

“Edda,” he called. She was crossing the street, but stopped and looked at him. “If you find a place that seems safe enough, you think you could let me know where you end up? In case I might uh... in case I want to follow along?”