The morning passed slowly, and the view changed little as they marched east and maybe a bit to the south. They certainly hadn’t intended for it to be quite so roundabout, but the path they’d taken from Morningside — to where they were now — would’ve thrown off all but the most determined of trackers. If nothing else, certainly no one would be able to anticipate where they were headed based on their previous movements.

As they walked, Cass mulled over all she knew about the situation in Morningside. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get the pieces to fit together in any way that made sense to her. She might have misjudged North altogether, but it still didn’t account for all that had occurred. There were too many threads dangling, too many unanswered questions. But then, maybe she was thinking about it all wrong. She’d been assuming there had been a single plan all along, perfectly executed. What if, instead, it hadn’t gone to plan at all?

There had always been politics at play when it came to the Council. She didn’t for one moment believe that they had agreed to elevate Wren to governor out of any sense of altruism. He had been largely intended as a figurehead, to quell the rising panic after Underdown’s death, and she’d agreed, knowing it would secure their place in the city. But once Wren’s abilities had become widely known, the people of Morningside had seemed to revere him even more highly than his father. Had the Council members truly been trying to unseat him? Or had something gone terribly wrong?

“Hey,” Wick said from the front. “Persona non grata. What’s the plural of that?”

“I reckon we are,” said Finn.

“Personae non gratae,” Swoop muttered.

“Oh ho ho,” Wick said, looking over his shoulder at Swoop. “A gentleman and a scholar, huh?”

Swoop spat.

“What does that mean?” Wren asked, and it dawned on Cass that she’d never told Wren and Painter about the executive order from Morningside.

“It means an unwelcome person,” Sky said.

“Like an exile?” Wren said.

“Pretty much,” Sky said.

Wren was quiet for a moment.

Cass was still trying to figure out how to share the news when he spoke again. “Does that mean we can’t go home?”

Gamble glanced at Cass and grimaced, only then realizing the situation.

“For now,” Cass said. “But we’re going to figure it out, OK?”

“Wait,” said Painter. “What?”

“We found out last night, after you were asleep,” Cass said. “The Council cut us off.”

“What? Whuh-wh-why?”

“Because of what happened… to Connor and Aron.”

“Actually,” Finn said, “it didn’t mention Aron. And it didn’t mention Painter, either.”

It took a moment for the implication of that to sink in for Cass. “They think I killed him?” she said.

“Or,” Mouse said, “they want everyone else to think that.”

They all walked on in thoughtful silence for a few moments.

Cass didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to her before. Of course they’d think she was the one who had killed Connor. There were no witnesses, and no reason for anyone to suspect that Painter would ever have been involved. Maybe it’d been a mistake to bring him with them after all.

“Well,” Wick said. “On the bright side, at least one of us can go home.”

“We’re all goin’ home,” Swoop said. “Just might get a little loud when we do.”

“I hope Uncle Aron’s OK,” Wren said quietly.

They marched on, breaking every hour or so to rest, often while Wick and Swoop scouted ahead, behind, or around. Cass never was sure what exactly they were looking for, but the fact that they hadn’t encountered any traps or other travelers thus far probably had a lot to do with their vigilance.

At every stop, Mouse made the rounds to double-check everyone’s water intake, and he fussed mildly at both Wren and Painter for not drinking more. Both the boys had kept mostly quiet during the journey, which was fast becoming the norm.

Their progress was steady over the course of a few hours. The streaks of clouds overhead steadily thickened and drew together and eventually hid the sun from view. Around them the area began to open out; buildings were spaced farther apart, and didn’t tower as high, rarely reaching more than three stories. The streets and alleys were wider here, and abandoned living quarters sat comfortably between deserted shops and empty taverns. Whatever the place used to be, its layout gave Cass a less rushed feeling, like it was once a community where it had been alright to take your time, and people had a little more room to live. In the distance, Cass caught a glimpse of a tall building towering above the others.

“We’re not far now,” Wick said. “How do you want to handle the approach, G?”

“I hate to split up too much,” she answered. “But I don’t think it’s wise to roll up to the front gate with our Awakened friends without announcing ourselves first.”

“What if they just keep covered up?” Swoop asked.

“Might draw more attention than we want. And questions.”

“I don’t see how we can escape that,” Mouse said. “And I don’t think any explanation is actually going to prepare anybody.”

“Fair enough,” Gamble said. “Miss Cass, what do you think?”

“I’d rather stay together if we can make it work,” Cass answered.

“Then we’ll make it work,” Gamble replied. “Tighten up a little, keep the weapons casual but in plain view. I want to look threatening without having to threaten. And Sky, I want you on overwatch anyway.”

“Yep, check,” Sky said.

In another ten minutes or so, they came to a wide intersection, and Sky broke off from the group and went to find a position. Nobody said anything, but Cass could almost feel the sharpening of focus. Nervous energy built. She drew closer to Wren, and tried to calm her breathing. It felt very much like they were walking into a fight.

When the enclave finally came into view, Cass quickly understood how it’d gotten its name. The tall building she’d seen before dominated the area, nine stories high. It was actually about fifty yards outside the wall of the enclave, just to the right of it from their direction, looming over it like a headstone.

“Main gate’s just around to the right,” Gamble said. “Swoop, Mouse, with me. We’ll take point. Wick, fall back and watch the rear. The rest of you stay about five meters behind me. If anybody starts popping off, just hit the ground until it’s quiet again. Or until I tell you otherwise.

“Sky,” she said, “you set…? No, we’re coming up on it now… alright. Well, stay put, we’ll check it out.”

“That’s weird,” Wick said.

“Maybe they’ve loosened up,” Gamble answered. “Still. Eyes up.”

Cass wanted to ask what the exchange was about, but thought better of it. Everyone else was switched on, no need to distract them. They approached the enclave, which was surrounded by a hexagonal concrete and metal wall, maybe fifteen feet high. The wall itself looked fairly well assembled; clean welds held the obviously scavenged parts together. It wasn’t the prettiest place she’d seen, but they’d constructed it with some skill. There were a few scattered watchtowers peeking over the top, though as they got closer she could tell the towers were actually constructed next to the wall on the inside, rather than on top of it. Maybe not ideal, but certainly functional. She got the feeling the place had been added on to over the years, rather than having been planned from the start.

Wren tensed up beside her.

“Mama,” he said quietly. “It’s not right.”

Cass slowed her pace. He stared straight ahead at the wall, eyes wide, shaking his head.

Gamble was just turning the corner around the wall and getting a view of where the gate was. She stopped short, and Swoop walked up right beside her.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me,” Swoop said. He readjusted his weapon on its sling and started towards the gate.

The rest of the group gathered behind Gamble. Wren called after Swoop. “Don’t go in,” he said. “It’s not safe.”

Now that Wren brought it to her attention, Cass could feel it too. There was a weird energy there. Ethereal, evasive. Wild. Angry. But something vaguely familiar that she couldn’t place.

“Not again,” Wick said.

The gate had two doors, opening inward, and at first it just looked like the people of Ninestory had left it open. It wasn’t that uncommon for towns to let people enter freely during the day. But as Cass drew nearer, it became clear something had gone wrong. Towards the center, the metal was bent inwards, as if it’d been struck by some great force. Near the top of both doors, the hinges had flexed and pulled away. Something had most definitely breached the gate.

“Mama, don’t,” Wren insisted. He was hanging back, away from the gate. Wick and Swoop moved into the enclave with cautious steps. Finn and Mouse followed after, and the four men began to fan out with their weapons lowered, but shouldered.

“Sky, bring it in,” Gamble said. She and Able remained outside the gate with Cass and the boys. “You boys be careful.”

“Wren, what is it? What are you feeling?” Cass asked.

“There’s something in there, Mama.”

There were a number of buildings visible from the main entrance, but they were all closed up, windows dark. For all intents and purposes, the place looked completely abandoned.

“I don’t think there’s anything in there, Governor,” Gamble said.

Think they all left? Able signed.

“Could be. Seems odd, though. Ninestory’s been around for years. Don’t see why they’d pull up and head out now.”

There was a noise behind them, and Cass turned to see Sky jogging up to join them.

“What’s the word?” he said as he drew near.

“Dunno yet,” Gamble answered. “Could be an attack. Could be they up and left.”

Sky let out an exasperated sigh. “Didn’t we just do this?”

“Pretty much.”

“Wasn’t that great the first time, you know.”

Inside the enclave, the four team members were approaching the nearest building. Wick led the way, with Finn right behind him, while Mouse and Swoop held off a few yards and covered their flanks.

“Yeah, Wick, I got you,” Gamble said. “…Check. Just be careful. You see something you don’t like, you come right back out.”

“Please,” Wren said, “please, let’s just go. Let’s go back.”

Cass went down on one knee and drew Wren to her. He was trembling.

“Gamble, I really think we should listen to Wren,” Cass said.

“I hear him,” Gamble said. “Don’t worry, we’re not gonna stay long.”

Wick eased open the front door and flowed in with Finn in support. They disappeared into the darkened building. Mouse and Swoop waited outside, weapons up, casually scanning.

“Check,” Gamble said, and then looking back at Cass and Wren, “Front room’s clear. They’re just gonna check the lower level.”

The words had barely left her mouth when the gunfire barked from inside the building. Gamble cursed, and immediately the whole team switched on, weapons up, closing in on the building. Wren clapped his hands over his ears.

The gunshots continued, and a few seconds later Finn appeared in the doorway, firing his weapon with one hand and dragging something backwards with the other. He was screaming for Mouse.

It took a moment for Cass to realize what Finn was dragging: Wick. He was on his back, and his legs were fishtailing along the ground, trying to help his brother propel him backwards away from the building. Wick still had his weapon up, firing.

Mouse and Swoop started advancing towards the door — right as the first of the Weir stumbled out into the daylight. They both opened up, and the Weir dropped, but it was quickly replaced by another, and then another. Cass’s mind couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing, as a stream of Weir came pouring out into the street.

“Back! Fall back!” Gamble shouted, and all guns were up and firing, cutting down the impossible wave that flowed out of the building. Finn went down hard, fighting to drag Wick further away, but no matter how many they killed, the tide of Weir kept gaining ground. Mouse ran forward and skidded to a knee beside Wick, firing into the advancing horde.

Swoop let out a howl of pure rage and walked forward, unleashing an unrelenting torrent of gunfire. Able sprinted towards his comrades. Sky remained at the gate, methodically firing shot after shot after shot, with barely a second in between to acquire a new target.

And just when Cass thought the team was sure to be overwhelmed, the tide broke and the last of the Weir toppled to the ground, mere feet from where Wick lay.

“Come on, get him up, get him up!” Finn shouted, but Mouse was already there, lifting Wick to his feet. Mouse wrapped one of Wick’s arms over his shoulder and hauled him up, jogging away from the building and the mass of bodies that lay sprawled in the street. Even from where Cass knelt, she could see the dark stains soaking Wick’s chest, and the paleness of his face.

The others kept their weapons up as they backpedaled towards the gate. Cass was still trying to process what had just happened when the sounds started. It was muffled at first, an indistinct mass of white noise coming from somewhere within the enclave. But as it grew in intensity, it also sharpened, and Cass realized she wasn’t hearing a single sound, but rather some countless number of them blending together.

The whole enclave was full of Weir. And they were coming.

“Back, to the building!” Gamble ordered. “Get to the building!”

Cass didn’t hesitate. She swung Wren up in her arms and took off, sprinting for the tall building just over fifty yards away. The indistinct sounds became clearer, and she recognized the telltale cries of the Weir echoing behind her. But there was no sound of gunfire. Yet.

As she reached the door to the nine-story-tall building, Cass realized she had no idea what was on the other side of it. If there were Weir in the enclave, was there reason to think they wouldn’t also be inside the building?

She skidded to halt just in front. Gamble caught up and didn’t slow down. With a stomping kick, she slammed the double front doors open and entered aggressively with her weapon shouldered.

After a few moments she called from the inside, “Clear, let’s go!”

Painter was staring back at the gate, eyes wide, unmoving. Cass grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, and shoved him through the door ahead of her, following him in closely. The entryway was a small dusty front room that led to a narrow corridor. The corridor was lined with a number of doors on both sides, and there was a concrete stairwell at the far end.

“Come on, come on!” Gamble shouted.

Cass pushed into the corridor to make room for everyone else. Gamble waited by the door, motioning fiercely to the rest of the team, as if by waving them in she could propel them that much faster.

Mouse was the first one through, carrying Wick across his shoulders. Cass couldn’t believe he was able to carry both Wick and all their gear, and still walk, let alone run, but he managed to cover the ground with impressive speed. The others must’ve been holding back to cover Mouse, because as soon as he made it into the front room, the others piled in quickly behind. Swoop was the last one in.

He and Gamble slammed the doors shut behind them, and Able grabbed something off the side of Swoop’s pack. Cass’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the relative darkness of the room; the only light now came in from two narrow horizontal slot windows, placed high and covered over with steel grating on the inside. In two seconds Able was at work, running a wide band of what looked like some kind of thick grey putty down the center of the doors, overlapping both where the doors met in the middle. When it was in place, he made a flicking motion and stepped back, and seconds later the strip let off a shower of white-hot sparks, dazzling in the darkened room, fusing the doors together.

Everyone seemed to be moving all at once, but there was no chaos in the motion. Gamble was barking orders that the team seemed to be able to respond to faster than Cass could process. They put three guns on the door: Swoop, Able, and Finn.

Gamble sent Sky to check the stairwell, and he pushed past Cass with such intensity it seemed like he barely registered she was even there. Gamble started down the hall, checking the doors on either side.

Mouse had Wick sitting down on the floor, propped against the wall at the mouth of the corridor. Wick’s eyes were open and he seemed alert, but his breathing was labored. He had a hand pressed hard into the hollow where his neck met his left shoulder, just above the collarbone. Cass could see the blood burbling out around his fingers. After a moment she realized Mouse was calling her name.

“Cass, I need you!” he called. She snapped into the moment. Cass was still holding Wren, so she slid him to his feet and then went and crouched next to Mouse. “Help me get his pack off.”

Mouse leaned Wick gently forward while Cass worked on the buckles. They were gummed with blood and were hard to work.

“Steady your breathing, Wick,” he said. “Slow it down.”

“You first,” Wick said with a clenched jaw. He grimaced, and Cass saw blood on his teeth. They got the pack off his back and scooted him back against the wall.

“Hey,” Mouse said as they were helping him move, “you didn’t have to run all that way, haulin’ you.” He said it with a smile, but Cass could see the concern in his eyes. Mouse gave a quick tug to a pouch on his chest harness, and it fell open, revealing the neatly packed and secured contents of his trauma kit. He worked quickly to get Wick’s chest rig out of the way so he could assess the wound.

“Talk to me, Mouse!” Finn called.

“He’s busy!” Wick responded. “…And mind your business!” And then more quietly, he said, “Is it bad, man?”

Mouse moved Wick’s hand and blood pooled in the hollow of his clavicle, but Cass didn’t have time to see the wound before Mouse poured some kind of gritty powder over it and started packing it with gauze.

“Quit leaking everywhere,” Mouse said, “and it won’t be. Cass, put pressure right here, hard, even if he squeals.”

Cass did as she was instructed, and Wick locked eyes with her.

“You’re going to be fine,” she said.

“You’re just saying that.”

“It makes me feel better.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I know.”

Outside, the Weir continued to squall, but they sounded scattered and didn’t seem to be getting any louder or closer that Cass could tell. Gamble came back down the hall past them and grabbed Able’s shoulder. He turned his head to look at her, but kept his weapon up and pointed at the door.

“Go help Sky on the stairs,” she said. Able nodded and hustled down the hall and up the stairs. Gamble came and dropped to a knee alongside Wick. “Wick, how bad are you?”

“More scared than hurt,” he said.

“Mouse?” Gamble asked.

“Couple of punctures, just behind the clavicle, some tearing,” Mouse said. “Jugular and carotid are probably OK, but if it hit the subclavian, could be bad news.”

“Can we move him?” she asked.

“If we have to.”

“I want to get higher, rig the stairs.”

Mouse nodded. “Gimme a few, see if we can make sure this clots up.”

A sudden impact made the doors shudder, snapping everyone’s attention to the front. Except for Mouse. He was intent on Wick, calmly evaluating him.

“Might not have it,” Gamble whispered.

They waited in tense silence, waited for that next blow to fall. Ten seconds passed.

“What do you think those doors are rated?” Finn asked in a low voice.

“Nothin’ like that gate was,” Swoop answered quietly. Finn readjusted his grip on his rifle.

Thirty seconds. Sixty. But no more blows fell on the doors.

“Seal up the hinges, too,” Gamble said, her voice lowered. “And rig a charge on the center. If we have to get out that way, we’ll go out hard.”

Finn kept the door covered while Swoop cautiously approached. He produced another strip of the same putty-like substance Able had slapped on the middle of the door. This time, however, Swoop drew a large knife from its sheath on his chest rig and cut the strip into quarters. These he placed on the hinge-side of the doors, two on each, high and low. He ignited them in succession, and they each rained sparks to the floor. Once they’d finished, Swoop dropped his pack and dug out a few components that Cass didn’t recognize.

“When you say ‘go out hard’, how hard do you mean?” Swoop asked, as he started assembling pieces.

“Hard enough to kill everything on the other side,” Gamble answered.

Swoop nodded and grabbed another two components out his bag, and then started affixing them to the doors.

Wren was still standing in the hall where Cass had left him, with his hands over his ears, just watching those doors with wide eyes. Jaw clenched, lips white.

“Any chance they didn’t actually see us come in here?” Finn asked.

“It’s hard for them to track in the daylight,” Cass said. “Maybe they lost us.”

Mouse patted her on the arm and shifted position to take over putting pressure on Wick’s wound. Cass lifted her hands slowly while he slid his in underneath and piled more gauze on top of the wound. Cass’s hands were tacky where the blood had soaked through the first layers of the dressing.

“They know we’re here,” Wren said from the hall. Gamble looked at him, and then at Cass.

“If he says they know, they know,” Cass said.

Gamble nodded.

“Sky,” she said, “we need some elevation… Understood… Can you check for roof access…? I understand that. I’m not asking to clear the whole thing… Alright, check.” She shook her head. “Can we get Wick up nine flights?”

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Mouse said. “I don’t want him going into shock.”

“I’m not dead yet,” Wick said. “You don’t have to talk about me like I am.”

“Sorry, you lost a lot of blood,” Mouse replied.

“I didn’t really lose it, it’s all right outside.”

“Knock it off, Wick, this isn’t a joke,” Finn said.

“I can make it up some stairs,” Wick said. “If someone can carry my pack.”

“I’ll take it,” Cass said, before anyone else could respond.

Swoop finished rigging the charge on the door and dropped back. Outside the cries of the Weir had dropped off. Mouse had Wick hold the gauze in place and started winding a wide bandage over the wound and around under his armpit.

“What happened in there, Finn?” Swoop asked.

“I don’t really know,” he said. “We were clearing rooms, everything was fine. Come around a corner, and we’re staring at a crowd of Weir packed into a little dark room in the middle. Just standing there, all packed in together. Tried to back out, one of ’em pounced. Wick went down and it was on top of him, and the rest started coming after us. Like walking into the middle of a hornet’s nest.”

“My fault,” Wick said. “Took it too fast…”

“No way anyone could’ve anticipated that,” Finn said. “It was like they were switched off, and we woke ’em up. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I don’t think anyone has,” Swoop said. “Never gave much thought to where they went during the day.”

“Alright,” Gamble said. “I want to get up to the roof, get a good look at what we’re dealing with. Swoop, Finn, rig the first two flights of stairs. If they breach that door, I want it to cost them.”

“You want to drop the stairs, or just kill a lot of ’em?” Swoop asked.

“Both.”

He grunted. “That’ll take most of what we got.”

“I’d rather use it all than die with it in your pack.”

Swoop gave a little nod. “Check.”

“Everybody else, we’re moving topside,” Gamble said.

“To the t-t-top floor?” Painter asked.

“No. To the roof,” Gamble said. “We don’t have time to clear the whole building, but we can control the roof. Get your stuff, and we’ll move up.”

Cass grabbed Wick’s pack. It was a lot heavier than she’d anticipated, and she once again marveled at Gamble and her “boys”. As far as she knew, none of them were modified or enhanced with chems, or gene splicing, or servorganics. Just raw humanity and determination. It made their skill and stamina that much more impressive. Cass looped the straps over her shoulders, backwards, so she could carry his pack in front of her. Then she took Wren’s hand, and together they followed Gamble down the corridor towards the stairs.

Behind them, Mouse helped Wick to his feet, and looped Wick’s right arm over his shoulders.

“Lean on me, let me do most of the work,” Mouse said. “And try to keep that left arm as stable as possible.”

“Alright,” Wick said.

“You let me know if you start feeling weak, dizzy, or like you can’t catch your breath.”

“I feel like all that right now.”

“Then let me know if it gets worse.”

“Alright.”

They all started up the stairs together, Gamble leading the way, cautiously leading with her weapon. Cass came right behind, with Wren by her side. Painter followed them. Mouse and Wick brought up the rear.

The stairwell was plain: bare concrete floor and stairs, a simple iron railing. Vertical slot windows were spaced every so often, lending enough light to see by, but they were too narrow to give any meaningful view of what was going on outside.

Down below them, Finn started laying out charges and some other devices Cass hadn’t seen before, while Swoop went to work rigging them up on the first set of stairs. Cass had never been around so many explosives before, and she found it wholly unnerving, even as much as she trusted Swoop as an expert.

“Hey,” Gamble said, calling back down to Swoop and Finn. “Make it good enough, not perfect. I don’t want you fiddling around down here.”

“Ain’t the kind of thing you rush, G,” Swoop answered.

“We’re more spread out than I like already. I don’t want you guys getting cut off.”

“Go on,” Finn said. “We’ll be right behind you.”

Gamble looked like she was about to say something else, but instead she just nodded and resumed leading them up the stairs. Once they got to the top of the second floor, she said in a lowered voice, “Sky, we’re coming up.”

She kept her weapon up and swept the angles as they presented themselves, constantly vigilant for any sudden threat. Each floor was virtually indistinguishable from the others. At each landing, the stairwell connected to a long, dark corridor with doors on either side.

As they passed each one, Cass tried not to think about Gamble mentioning how they didn’t have time to clear the whole building. There was no telling who — or what — might be lurking down any one of those halls, or behind any one of those doors. The fact that they hadn’t heard or seen any signs of danger gave some small comfort, but the memory of the cascade of Weir pouring out of that building was still too fresh.

They took their time climbing the stairs, not wanting to rush Wick, not daring to get separated. Though it wasn’t really that far to climb, by the time they reached the top floor, Cass’s legs were starting to burn from all the weight she was carrying, combined with the slower pace.

Beyond the ninth floor, the stairwell extended up in a fully enclosed corridor, like a toppled chimney. There were no windows, and Cass knew for the others it must have seemed an overwhelming darkness. At the top there was a single door, which she assumed led out onto the roof.

Gamble halted at the bottom of the steps, and flicked on the red light affixed to the underside of her gun. “Sky, we’re coming out.”

She led them up the final flight of stairs, and swung the door open. The flood of sunlight overwhelmed Cass completely, and everyone shielded their eyes. When they made it out onto the roof, Able was waiting for them there by the door. Cass drew her veil down. When her eyes finally adjusted, she saw Sky set up at the edge of the roof, facing the enclave.

The roof itself was flat, with a few industrial-grade vents — and large dormant machinery of unknown purpose — clustered near the center. Here and there were scattered broken remnants of once-useful things. Cass guessed anything of value had long ago been scavenged by the residents of Ninestory. Or rather, by the former residents.

The team piled their gear by the rusted machinery. Mouse eased Wick to a sitting position, leaning back against their packs and facing the door. Wick was pale, his face slick with a thin sheen of sweat. His breathing seemed shallower and more labored than it had before, and Cass hoped it was just from the exertion of the climb. Mouse knelt next to him and checked his vitals. He didn’t look happy with the results.

Cass walked across the roof to join Sky and Gamble at the edge. The wind was up, chilly even in the full sun. She flipped up the collar of her coat to keep it off her neck. As she crossed, she was amazed by the commanding view the roof provided of the surrounding cityscape.

It was the tallest building for miles around, and even though it wasn’t all that high compared to many places she’d been before, the unbroken urban sprawl that surrounded them made Cass feel like they were on an island mountain amidst a concrete sea. What she saw when she reached the edge, however, took her breath away.

Far below, what looked like hundreds of Weir teemed throughout the enclave and the surrounding area, swarming like insects from an overturned nest. Just in front of the building, however, a stationary knot of them had formed. Most of the ones in motion didn’t seem to be following any particular pattern, but whenever an individual drew near the cluster, it quickly diverted its path to join the group, like iron filings collecting around a magnet. Even stranger, they had all gone utterly silent.

“I just don’t understand it,” Sky said, as he watched the creatures scurrying below. “They wiped out the whole enclave?”

“Looks that way,” Gamble said. “And then took it over.”

“I’ve never heard of that happening before. Ever.”

“Me neither. Like Swoop said, I hadn’t really thought about where they went after dark. Never would’ve guessed that, though.”

Everything about it seemed wrong. Even more wrong than usual. Cass thought back to the night they’d attacked the gate of Morningside. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something about the Weir had changed. Something significant. Something dire.

“You think they can see us up here?” Sky asked.

“Tough to say,” Gamble said. Then she looked at Cass. “What do you think, Miss Cass?”

Cass stared down over ninety feet. Even through her veil, the sunlight affected the details she could make out like a thin mist.

“I’m not sure if they see the same way I do,” she said. “But I can make out the shapes fine, just not much detail.”

“I didn’t think they’d come out in the daylight,” Sky said.

“They usually don’t on their own. It isn’t natural,” Gamble said.

“Nothing about them is,” Sky replied. He gave Cass a little look out of the corner of his eye right after he said it, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, or he was afraid she’d take it the wrong way, but Sky didn’t say anything else.

“I think Wren’s right,” Cass said. “They know we’re in the building. But I have no clue what they’re doing about it.”

“Never known them to be much for planning,” Mouse said from behind them. He came up and stood next to Cass, between her and Gamble.

“How’s Wick?” Gamble asked.

Mouse shook his head. “I’m worried.”

“You’re always worried when someone’s hurt,” Sky said.

“Not like this,” Mouse answered. “I think he’s got some internal bleeding. Lots of ways for that to be real bad, and most of ’em I can’t do anything about out here. Could go into hypovolaemic shock, might be fluid leaking into his chest cavity…” He shook his head. “Even if it stops on its own, things get too heavy, his blood pressure could drop to critical.”

“So, what’re you saying?” Gamble asked, and the fear was evident in her voice, no matter how much she was trying to control it.

Mouse wouldn’t look at her. He just kept staring down at all the Weir below. “I’m saying we don’t all get out of here without some kind of miracle.”

“Finn know?” Sky asked.

“Not yet.”

“How about Wick?”

“He knows he’s in trouble. Pretending he’s not.”

They all stood in silent thought after that, each no doubt running through the scenario from every angle they could think of, looking for a good solution. Nothing was presenting itself to Cass. It’d never occurred to her that any of Gamble’s team might not survive, not really. Up until now, they’d all seemed invincible. But now, in that moment, everything became entirely too possible.

And then the Weir broke the silence.

“Spshhhh. Naaaah.”

The call, or chant. Worse this time. A chorus in perfect unison from every single Weir in that cluster.

“Spshhhh. Naaaah.”

The Weir stood down below, packed tightly together, staring up at the roof. Stragglers continued to join the cluster. And as they did, they each took up the call. They were packed so closely together it was almost impossible to get a count on how many there were, but Cass estimated a hundred or so.

“What is going on down there?” Sky said.

“I don’t know, but I hate it,” Gamble said.

“Can I start shooting?”

“Not yet.”

“Spshhhh. Naaaah.”

“I know what it is,” Wren said from behind them. Cass hadn’t even heard him walk up. They all turned and looked at him. He was standing just a few feet away, eyes wide and glassy, even paler than usual. “I know what it is, now.”

“Spshhhh. Naaaah.”

“What is it, baby?” Cass asked, knowing in her heart whatever the answer was, it would be more frightening than the uncertainty.

He looked at her with absolute despair.

“They’re saying ‘Spinner’, Mama. They’re saying my name.”

Cass involuntarily grabbed Mouse’s arm. He in turn caught her arm in reflexive support, but she knew that he didn’t understand what Wren was saying. None of the others did. But now that Wren had made the connection, she knew he was right, no matter how much she wanted to deny it.

“Spshhhh. Naaaah.”

She could hear it too, now. The electronic squall was no longer just bursts of white noise. Instead, inhuman voices mimicking human speech.

“What?” Sky said.

“What are you talking about, Wren?” Gamble asked.

Wren walked closer to the edge and peered down. “It’s Asher. He’s in the Weir.”