Surviving Arkadia

Amris and I fled across the formal garden. We caught up with Tommy and Angela as we reached the abandoned building.

I grabbed Tommy as gently as I could and threw him onto my back, piggyback style. “Hold on tight, don’t worry about pulling my hair out, don’t panic if I have to drop to all fours or leap over something.

Amris reached for Angela but she batted his hand away and pushed through the door saying, “I can keep up. Don’t worry about me.”

Indeed we should not have worried about her. The moment she was through the door she took off like a greyhound after a rabbit. I realised that every time I’d seen her moving with the exaggerated care of an invalid she’d been with Tommy, she’d been keeping him company, moving at his pace.

We ran. Amris showed no sign of being slowed by the weight of Trudy’s body. Tommy weighed barely anything at all but I found myself clutching his hands, worried that his grip on my jerkin wouldn’t be enough to keep him in place.

All around us was evidence of the fleeing Scavenger teams; large objects of metal and wood that had been dropped because they were too heavy to run with, small things that had tumbled from open bags and boxes, broken things that had been trampled into the floor by many running feet. To either side of us I could hear the warded glass that had survived for 20 years being shattered as my crews hurled themselves from windows.

We reached the back door and in a moment we were back out into the sunlit, overgrown meadow. There was no sign of the children except for the trampled grass where they’d been playing.

As I ran for the train I scanned the edge of the treeline, half convinced that we must have lost someone. The evacuation was going too well. There had to be someone left behind.

Angela reached the train first and leapt aboard screaming something about needing a doctor. By the time Amris reached the train there was someone standing there in hospital whites to accept Trudy’s body.

I wondered if Angela had somehow not realised that Trudy was dead. Was she in denial? Maybe she knew something I didn’t. Maybe there was still hope?

That terrible moment of hope sat in my chest like a ball of lead. I knew there couldn’t be any way to bring Trudy back. I’d seen the light leave her eyes.

Which was weird. She’d been shot in the back. Even if the bullet destroyed her heart there should have been a few seconds of brain activity.

I helped Tommy onto the train, put my bag inside and pulled the officer’s gun out of my belt. I examined it until I found a catch that let me break it like a shotgun and look at the chambered round. The slug, the part of the bullet that would be propelled into a target, was engraved with runes that gave off a sickly reddish glow.

“Oh shit.” It was Asser’s voice. He was standing just inside the train. He must have come to see what the delay was.

“What is it?” Amris said, looking from the bullet to Asser and back.

“Well I can’t see the exact runes from here but from the colour I’m guessing it’s some kind of life drain enchantment.”

“Assassin rounds,” said Sarah, still on the top of the train but crouching down to get a better look. “I’ve only heard of them but I’ve seen Assassin arrows. One hit, one kill.

I could hear running feet inside the building. The remaining soldiers must have finally organised themselves to pursue us.

Amris jumped onto the train and pulled me after him without waiting to see if I would get on.

“Everybody better try really hard not to get shot,” I said, as the train began to move.

Amris swung out of the still open door and clambered up onto the roof of the train. I wondered if he was intending to help Sarah or if he just couldn't stand being down here with Trudy’s body.

I decided that I probably had a minute or two before the shooting started. I grabbed my bag, mostly full of pill containers, and carried it through to the workshop. Asser followed me.

“I already had most of the parts I need to make a shotgun and now I’ve found the stuff I need to make cartridges. I just need you to drill some barrels out for me.”

“Sure,” said Asser. “Not going to be finished today though.”

“Well obviously. I’ll just have to kick arse with my actual feet.” I pulled off the boots I wore while scavenging. They cost me some speed and my clawed kick but at least they protected my feet from broken glass, splinters and rusty nails.”

“Give me two seconds before you go running off,” said Asser. He went raking around under one of the work benches and came up carrying a package wrapped in bright cloth. “I knew we’d probably have to fight at some point so I made these for you.”

I unwrapped the bundle and inside was a small repeating crossbow, a quiver full of broad-head bolts that were engraved with tiny purple runes, and a blade in a scabbard.

“Take your belt off and I’ll fit the quiver and scabbard for you.”

I whipped my belt off just as I heard the first warning shouts that the soldiers were sighted. While Asser fiddled with the quiver I took the blade from the scabbard for a better look. I’d thought it must be a big machete or a short sword but it was a Messer, very similar to my now lost one, but of a much higher quality. The surface had a pattern of ripples that glinted as the light caught it.

“Holy shit,” I said, “Did you make a Damascus Messer blade?”

“Runic Damascus,” said Asser. “That thing will cut through any physical armour and some shielding spells. The scabbard has a regeneration charm on it to speed up wound healing. The quiver has a warding charm that reflects a lot of combat spells.”

He helped me strap the belt back on and I slotted the Messer into its scabbard. I picked up the crossbow. It had a long strap that I could wear across my body. “What did you put on the bolts?”

“Lightning. Improved accuracy and does bonus electrical damage even if the heads don’t punch through armour.”

“Nice. You got anything under there for Amris?”

“He said he preferred his claws to anything I could make him so I made him this to keep him clawing. It has the same charms as your scabbard and quiver.” It was a bandolier belt full of potion vials. Each one was tiny and full of glowing colourful liquid. The glass had the familiar iridescence of enchanted glass but much brighter than usual. I reckoned they’d stand up to a lot more punishment than the windows of the hospital.

From outside came the sound of gunfire and the muffled boom of something nearby exploding. It didn’t feel like the train but it had to be something close to the track.

Asser swore under his breath and hit a control panel on the wall to open one of the transparent roof hatches. “Do you want a leg up?” he said, cupping his hands together.

I stepped into his hands and he flung me skyward with the kind of force normally reserved for tossing cabers.

Out of the train and into the middle of a firefight.