The tunnel beneath the highway turned out to be a service passage. Dusty and dim, Sestus assured them that it only ever saw real use when something had gone wrong with the road above. The urchins had put considerable effort into duplicating the swipe cards that provided access to what was a generally restricted space. The gemstone eyed fiend informed them that it was a small part of an extensive library that aided the eternally youthful gang’s mobility. More than any underground base, it was this cumulative access to unused spaces that made the group so effective. Traversal between tiers of the city would be the largest obstacle to stealth, and Mickie had no doubt their guide had more than one way up.
Their little group eventually swapped the service tunnel for a sprawling housing district of stacked tenements. As far as suburbs in hell went, this one was nicely ordered, with concrete buildings and square blocks laid out in a grid of intersecting paths. In fact, everything was so symmetrical it bordered on unnerving. At times it felt as if they were moving in circles, prompting the occasional glance over the shoulder from everyone but Sestus.
As they walked ever onwards the ramp at the far end of the district began to loom large. This time, instead of the another climb Sestus led them through a second service passage, sneaking by the guards at the shadowed border. It was in the adjacent district that the group finally turned their heading towards the city’s upper levels. Sestus ushered them into a run-down warehouse, tucked away in the shadow of the highway. The inside was a poorly lit depot, housing a bulky transport in the process of being loaded.
‘You cut it close, Sestus.’
Though deeper than Mickie remembered, the voice was a familiar dead monotone, one that raised Mickie’s hackles. Miz-Mag started in alarm on his shoulder.
‘Kid, that’s…’
‘Mechanist.’
He hissed. In an instant his gun was raised towards the shadow recesses of the warehouse, waiting for movement.
‘By the nine! Don’t shoot!’
Sestus waved at him to put the gun away, but Mickie ignored the golden fiend.
‘How strange, you truly are invisible to my sensors, yet I can hear you clearly. Not only that but you know of the progenitor. Then this must be the one rumoured to have come from the palace.’
A large form shifted in the dark, stepping forward with a heavy clank of steel. The mortal’s sights were on the machine in an instant, finger resting on the trigger. Lights reflected off grimy, dented steel as the robot came to a stop, just far enough into the dim glow that Mickie could make out its tri-legged body.
‘You’re one of the mining bots.’
‘Oh, you have seen my kind before? Out on the ice I assume?’
Mickie was not going to be the one answering questions.
‘How are you here machine?’
This was the first Mechanist made robot he had seen in some time, certainly since he had arrived in the city. He had no idea what had happened to the remaining machines in the palace since their master died. Until now his best guess was that they had all dropped dead or gone insane.
‘I am here because I live here. As I have since I escaped the progenitor.’
Mickie doubted that the palace’s dead machine caretaker would be willing to allow any of it’s spawn to roam free. No only that, but he knew from experience that the Mechanist could store itself in the bodies of it’s creations. If there was even a shred of it in this mining bot, Mickie would turn it into scrap, escape plans be damned.
‘And how do I know you don’t have a bit of the Mechanist rattling round inside?’
‘Impossible. The progenitor is dead.’
It took a moment for the words to sink in, yet they did, like needles into flesh. The only way the machine could know that was if it had been in the palace right before the lockdown.
‘So, you want revenge?’
‘Mickie! Stop this!’
Sestus stepped before his weapon, angry for the first time in the short while Mickie had known the demon.
‘You will ruin the plan, our chance to escape. I trust Chink, I’ve known it for years.’
‘Then how does it know about the Mechanist’s death?’
The machine drawled an answer in its eery monotone.
‘I was born of the progenitor. Escaped it decades ago. Yet the link remained, however faint, however impotent. Then the connection was broken. Something that could only mean the death of my old master.’
‘And I spoke to Chink of it. After Miz-Mag,’ Sestus gave his companion a meaningful look, ‘told me about your escape.’
Mickie eyed the fiend on his shoulder. Miz-Mag gave him a nod and a shrug. Slowly, the branded man lowered his weapon, but did not banish it entirely. He refused to place any real trust in this machine, not after his time in the palace.
‘Good.’ Their golden guide breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Clink you ready to go?’
‘Yes. You have the payment?’
‘I do. Kalistra, Mickie, leave the bags here.’
Kalistra squinted at the demon.
‘You said these were supplies.’
‘They are supplies, essential for my good friend here. Now leave the bags.’
Mickie glared at the machine, grip tight on his gun. Miz-Mag gave a sigh of resignation on his shoulder.
‘Look kid, I don’t like it any more than you, but we gotta let this one slide. Especially if this bag of bolts is our way out of the city.’
The branded man inhaled slowly. His partner was right. They needed to leave this city before Belphegor or Illiath caught their trail. And yet, this machine was of the Mechanist, a parent that he had helped kill. If it had emotions, would it seek revenge? Or did it hold no affection for the being that had given it life?
With a scowl Mickie banished his gun and turned about to dump his pack. There was also the fact of this machine’s apparent intelligence. He could not recall any robot other than the Mechanist being able to speak, nor any that showed much inclination towards independence.
They did not pile into the cab or tray of the bulky vehicle. Rather, Chink grasped an innocuous panel and pulled it aside to reveal a cramped crawl space. It was hunched between bulky pipework segments, barely providing enough space for them all to sit. The group clambered in with Kalistra taking the lead, followed by Sestus, then Mickie. Outside the worn miner hoisted the panel back into place.
‘The journey will take approximately one hour and thirty-seven minutes. Prepare yourself.’
They were sealed inside with a click, Mickie noticing that light still filtered through slots in the metal seal. He brought his eyes near to it and discovered a narrow view of their surroundings. When the truck rumbled to life and the view shifted from dim warehouse to haggard streets, Mickie made his ire known.
‘You should have told me about this before.’
He jostled about to nail Sestus with an angry glare.
‘And how would you have reacted? Poorly, if your showing just now is anything to go by.’
‘I would have listened.’
The golden fiend sighed.
‘Yes, then you might have refused to go. An outcome we could not afford.’
Mickie glared, but could not refute the demon. It was true that if he had known who would be smuggling them in advance, he might have made his own way.
‘I’ve known Clink for a long time. They’re odd, but they hold to a deal. I paid well to get us up and into the final tier, and that machine always delivers.’
‘But how do you know you can trust it? Machines do not have emotions like we do. Just because it has yet to betray you does not mean that it won’t.’
It was Kalistra who spoke up. For the most part she had treated their current situation with reserved indifference. Only once their path out was secured did she make her stance known.
‘Not you too.’
Sestus released a breath.
‘Look, I told you that the final tier of the city is guarded, not just the paths to the four towers, but every district. It was always going to be, Belphegor does not let pets to slip the leash. Even before he freed Kalistra, Mickie was going to have a bounty on his head.’
The trucked halted, and Sestus went silent along with the grumbling engine. Voices came from outside, too faint to discern, the high chatter of an imp followed by a monotone reply from Chink. Whatever had been said must have been satisfactory, for they were soon moving again, turning out of the district and onto the sloped highway.
‘I understand the plan. I just do not think your faith in this machine is warranted.’
Kalistra picked up the conversation once they had cleared the checkpoint.
‘I don’t get why the machine does it, but Chink is the perfect smuggler. No poker face to break, no cool to lose. Miz-Mag surely you…’
Sestus cast about the small space for the red fiend but came up short.
‘Where’s our friend.’
Mickie cracked a knowing smile.
‘Unlike you, Mag doesn’t take the robot’s word at face value. Little guy is up in the driver’s cab, keeping an eye on things.’
‘Smart move.’
Kalistra’s approval seemed to vex Sestus, the demon releasing a long sigh.
‘I suppose it is. Now, as riveting as this conversation has been, I think we should stick to silence for the remainder of the journey. It would be embarrassing if our bickering gave us away once we reach the upper city.’
It was as close to an admission of defeat as they were going to get from their golden guide. The group fell into a barbed silence, each doing their best to ignore the uncomfortable proximity of the others. Mickie was still irritated at Sestus’ lack of communication, but found his anger fading as he watched the city roll by through the slots in the panel.
The plan itself made sense from an analytical standpoint, otherwise he would never have agreed when Sestus gave them the broad strokes. However, now he was on the move Mickie found himself constantly on edge. Stranger still, he had made and acted on plans with far less thought and significantly more risk. Perhaps that was just it though, they had been his plans. It was the lack of control in this escape that got to Mickie, more than any reminder of the Mechanist.
His assisting the Kindle Kin in their fight for the palace had been little more than a spur of the moment decision. Even worse was his and Miz-Mag’s initial plan to escape the spire, a rushed scheme which had failed. In both of those cases he had been the one holding the cards, calling the shots. Even when he had woken in the spire after being turned to stone, he had made the plan his own. Freeing Kalistra when it might have been a smarter move to flee immediately.
Mickie was not so self-absorbed that he failed to see the cause of his frustration. As the seventh layer of the sunken city rolled by and they approached the eighth, he did his best to push away the lingering frustration. There was still much to come before they reached the urchin’s supposed tunnel out. Sestus had described a hidden path out of the city, one that would require some travel on foot. He could not afford to be a hindrance the entire way.
The group pulled off the highway and into yet another sprawl of dreary architecture. For a moment the mortal glimpsed the nearby tower leading to the sixth circle, a monolith of metal ascending into darkness. So close, yet still completely out of their reach. Sestus had not lied when it said the structure was blockaded. It was only a glimpse, but Mickie made out the slick glimmer of dark machines, interspersed with huddling figures. Then the view up the sloped highway was gone, and they were pulling into yet another checkpoint.
While he felt more nervous entering a district than exiting one, the robot got them through with only a brief exchange of words. Beyond was a jumble of derelict grey concrete and dirty streets, populated by mortals and demons as worn as the décor. It was the closest thing to a slum that Mickie had seen so far. The shanty town beneath the highway had come close, but it had only looked like slum. This place had the smell and sound of one.
Mickie was wondering which demonic house owned the district when something caught his eye. A figure in the milling crowds, one that appeared the same as any other downtrodden soul yet drew his attention. His narrow window to see the demon soon passed, and Mickie was left contemplating what had grabbed his attention. The truck took a sharp turn, and he was drawn to yet another demon, this time leaning against a wall nonchalantly.
What was it about them? Something in the way they held themselves. A tightness gripped the back of his spine, ice sliding down his back. Not one, but two suspicious demons attempting to blend in with the crowd. It could be paranoia, but Mickie’s trusted in his instincts.
When he caught sight of the next plain clothed demon, the branded man was ready. He catalogued every feature that drew his attention. The fiend stood too taller than its fellow pedestrians, shoulders square and confident. It tracked the movement of their transport, with a scrutiny that stumbled past casual. A clawed hand rose to an ear, as if to scratch an itch. Then the demon’s mouth moved as if it were speaking to someone, and a stone rolled through Mickie’s gut.
‘They know.’
‘What?’
He spoke softly, voice soon drowned by the rumble of their engines. The small sound was still enough to draw startled attention from the crawl space’s other occupants.
‘There’s enforces outside, they know we’re coming.’
Mickie was certain of it. Those demons on the street were no ordinary denizens. They might appear like any other pedestrian, but he had recognized something in their demeanour. A way of standing, of focussed surveillance, the stance of a hunter. Sestus began to hiss out a surprised question but was cut off by a sudden squeaky shout.
‘By the blood! Kid, it’s them! Belphegor’s lot!’
Miz-Mag slipped between a narrow gap in the metal sheets above and landed on Mickie’s knee. The tiny fiend looked frantic, golden eyes wide as marbles.
‘I saw one. That snake guy from back when we first got to the city. From when you climbed those pipes. It’s here, on the streets.’
So, he had been right. It was the enforcers.
‘Miz-Mag are you sure? You recognized this demon?’
Sestus’ voice had lost any trace of the irritation it held during their argument. Instead, there was the hollow ring of fear to the tone.
‘Of course I’m serious. What are we gonna do kid?’
‘What is it, what’s happening?’
Kalistra interjected, only catching half the conversation. Despite himself, Mickie felt his lips twitch upwards at the sudden chaos. Their golden ally’s plan had been going too smoothly for too long. Now they were going to do things his way.
‘I’m not sure how but Belphegor got onto us. Could be the driver, could be something else. Doesn’t matter. Either way, we need to get out of this truck and make a break for it.’
The gorgon cursed as he turned his attention back to the streets, peering through the slits in the panel. They needed an alley, something that they could disappear into to drop any pursuers.
‘Alright. When I say go, we move. I’ll pop the hatch, you all follow me through. Once we’re out Sestus will have to guide…’
A sudden thunderclap echoed through the winding streets of the district, and the engines roared as their truck abruptly spun sideways. The turn was too sudden, too sharp, the vehicle tilting dangerous as Mickie realised they were about to flip. There was a moment of stomach-churning nausea as the group lurched towards Kalistra’s side of the crawl space. Then they were thrown forwards and atop one another as the engines died and the vehicle wailed with the sound of metal on bitumen.
Mickie was groggy, trying to make sense of what had happened. They had stopped moving, and the truck had somehow fallen onto its side. His body hurt but nothing appeared to be broken, one benefit to being in such a tight space at least. Miz-Mag poked its head out from a fold in his jacket as Sestus squirmed beneath him. The tiny fiend was attempting to say something, but Mickie’s ears were ring too loudly to make it out.
A word slipped through, read from the lips of the frantic demon. Belphegor. The enforcers. The recollection shot through him with a spike of adrenaline. They needed to move. Mickie twisted about, looking upwards toward the panel that sealed them in. The cramped confines of the crawl space meant he needed to do little more than twist himself upright to reach it. Even that proved to be a challenge however, the two squirming bodies beneath him making movement difficult.
Mickie shoved at the slitted metal once, twice, then a third times without any noticeable shift in sealed metal. Figuring he couldn’t hear anyway, the branded man called forth his weapon and fired upwards. The volume of it was enough to break through the recovering whine of his ears and reinvite absolute silence, but it worked. They had a way out now, and Mickie dismissed his gun as he reached for the smoking opening.
With a heave the mortal dragged himself and Sestus out and onto the side of the upturned vehicle. Their ride had veered sideway on the road, nearly sending them straight into an adjacent building. The top of the drivers cab was a scant foot or so from the dreary concrete. Between the two was a space that would serve as a brief shelter, and Mickie dropped a groggy Sestus down into it.
The sudden crash had clearly not been expected by the residents of the district. They were collectively screaming and fleeing the scene, all bar a few demons. These walked with urgent purpose, pushing through the crowd and towards the smoking wreck. He cursed and twisted back towards the crawl space, aiming to haul Kalistra out aswell. Something punched hard into his bicep, spinning the mortal sideways and off the upturned truck.
A bullet had clipped him but failed to penetrate, shot from hidden spot on a rooftop. Mickie cursed as he hunched down beside their woozy guide. They had bumbled straight into a trap. The driver, something must have happened to the robot. He tried to catch sight of the mining machine, but the driver’s window was facing towards the enemy. Clink was on its own, he had to prioritise getting Kalistra out.
Now the gunmen had a bead on the hatch it was going to be hard to get the gorgon out. They would drop her in an instant. Except, that couldn’t be right. The mortal shook his head, willing away the fog clouding his thoughts. These rooftop snipers likely shot their robotic driver, it was probably the reason they had crashed in the first place. If the hidden gunmen could hit a driver in a moving truck, yet failed to shoot him, it was because they had orders not to kill.
Kalistra would, at the very least, not be shot dead. If they had orders not to finish him then it would be the same for her. A positive development offset by several plain clothing enforces closing on them at this very moment. He would need to risk it to drag her out now. Mickie pulled his jacket over his head and stood, only to find Kalistra clawing her way out of the crawl space. A head emerged from the dark, hood shaken free and glasses half falling from her face.
Noticing the danger, Mickie turned his head aside even as he reached for his ally. The approaching enforcers however, failed to react in time. Trained professionals and panicked bystanders alike were turned to stone even as the gorgon was dragged aside. Another bullet ricocheted off the vehicle, and Kalistra snapped her head upwards. Mickie did not know if she managed to catch the rooftop shooter in her gaze, because moments later they were toppling backwards into the safety between truck and wall.
On the ground Sestus appeared groggy but functional, giving them an empty, wide-eyed look. Kalistra shouted something to him, but Mickie could not quite make it out as his ears recovered. He turned to the gorgon, finding she had her sunglasses back in place.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
‘What do we do?’
The second exclamation finally registered.
‘Got to run. Will be more on the way. Sestus, can you move?’
Only the ground their golden guide gave an unsteady nod and pulled itself upright.
‘Good. Alright. We need to drop these guys and make for the exit tunnel.’
Mickie secured his hood over his head and waited for the group’s acknowledgement.
‘No, not the tunnel.’
Sustus seemed slightly dazed, tripping over the words as it spoke them.
‘What’s that?’
‘Tunnel. Too far. Got an urchin base closer, we’ll head there first. Get backup.’
The branded man swiped hair from his eyes with a grimy hand.
‘Alright. Base it is. You’ll need to take point though Sestus.’
The Soul Lords old lackey gave a shaky nod and staggered towards the far end of the overturned vehicle. Clearly tired of its position in his jacket, Miz-Mag scampered out and onto his shoulder.
‘Seems about standard for us, doesn’t it?’
‘Sure does.’
He addressed the group.
‘On my mark.’
The clamour of the crowds had disappeared. Yet all was not quiet, already Mickie could hear the approach of their pursuers. He threw a glance at the cab of the truck. No movement or noise had come from within since the crash. If the machine had double crossed them then it had chosen poorly.
‘Set.’
He moved to the edge of the cover and peered out. Clear for now, it was go time.
‘Mark.’
And they were off.
----------------------------------------
A trio of figures in ragged robes hobbled along a dirty alley, keeping to the shadows with hoods raised. Any onlooking denizen of the district would think them just another local fleeing the nearby attack. Tensions had been high all throughout the city following the chain’s fall and the hive’s burning. The recent attack within their own haggard slice of darkness reminded all the residents just how little life meant in their slice of darkness. Not only that, but the word had spread that armed enforcers were combing the streets, hunting teams with dog-like Slithestra leading the charge. It was enough to send anyone running for the safety of home.
It had not been easy to lose the enforcers, they only made it with Sestus’ knowledge of the area. The golden demon knew all the right alleys to dash through and all the best places with crowds in which they could disappear. Even then it had been close. There had been more than one rooftop shooter, and their constant bombardment and communication kept the ground forces on the group’s heels. Having finally slipped free, they were almost at the nearby urchin base where they could hide until everything blew over.
‘We’re getting close. Got a secondary entrance we can use.’
The paths the group walked grew ever more absent of life, until finally they alone padded down a street nearly as dark as the cavernous ceiling far above. Sestus got Mickie and Kalistra to shift a grate aside before leading the way inside.
‘One of these days, we’ll pull off a plan smoothly. Mark my words kid.’
Miz-Mag had been silent for most of the escape, but failed to hold itself back now they were approaching safety.
‘Usually, my plans stay on course for the most part. You and Mickie certainly have a powerful influence to have derailed two escape plans in a row.’
‘Watch it Goldy! It ain’t my fault the kid feels a constant need to poke the bear.’
Mickie only sighed, too relieved at their narrow getaway to speak up in his defence. They walked in complete darkness for a time, the claustrophobia of the narrow passage pressing hard upon the branded man. Sestus’ gemstone eyes granted it with the ability to see in the total darkness of the passages, a trait that Mickie found himself desperate for as bounced painfully down the cramped tunnels. Occasionally directions would arrive, accompanied by the description of some feature invisible to the mortal. While it did hamper is capacity to navigate, Mickie did not point out the problem to the golden fiend. It was an insight to the creature’s abilities, and he did not want to lose the chance of finding out more.
‘Hmm. That’s strange.’
Mickie bumped into Sestus as their guide came to a sudden stop, hardly getting an oomph out before Kalistra stumbled into him.
‘What’s that old boy?’
Miz-Mag piped up while the mortal and gorgon righted themselves.
‘There should be a guard posted here. One checking for passphrases.’
‘Where are they then? Taking a smoke or something?’
‘I do not know. The spot should never be unattended.’
Kalistra sighed as she straightened.
‘It is odd hear you all talk to Miz-Mag. Like standing next to someone on one of those digital communicators.’
‘What? Like a phone?’
Did she not know about phones and radios? Mickie had thought they were rather common in hell. His question was ignored by the gorgon.
‘Could the base have been discovered? They did seem to know that we were in the truck.’
Sestus seemed alarmed at the possibility.
‘It’s not unheard of. Though news like that normally spreads fast through the urchins, I should have been informed.’
‘Unless it only just happened.’
Miz-Mag offered, drawing grim looks from those who could hear it.
‘Did the robot know of the base?’
Mickie asked. Even if their driver had met an unfortunate end, he would not rule it out.
‘No. We had a good relationship, and all good relationships require boundaries.’
The mortal peered into the dark, unable to even see the tunnel ahead. If only they could send a scout in.
‘Mag, any chance you could take a look?’
A rustle came from his shoulder.
‘Kid, I might have better eyes than you, but I still need light to see.’
‘That’s a no then.’
Mickie contemplated suggesting they turn back, but swiftly discarded the notion. Even if there was the risk of a trap, they needed to confirm if something had happened to the urchins here. Light abruptly bloomed behind the mortal, emerging from an orb in Kalistra’s hand.
‘What are you doing?’ Hissed Sestus. ‘That glow will spread through the tunnels like a beacon.’
‘Well, if we’re going to head in, which I assume we are, then I want to see what’s happening.’
The gorgon must have snagged the orb on their way out of the previous base. There was a logical argument against using the light, but Mickie gave it scarcely a thought once the tunnel came into view. He hated how vulnerable the darkness made him feel.
‘I agree. If something happens Kalistra and I will need light to act. It’s better we risk being seen if it means we aren’t caught off guard.’
Seeing there was no chance of winning the argument, Sestus sighed and turned towards the passage.
‘Very well. If we’re going to take the risk, then we might as well get on with it.’
The group moved onwards, eyes and ears straining for any sign of life. They paused at an intersection so Sestus could crack a hidden door, before making the final stretch towards the base. No one spoke, wary of drawing attention, yet Mickie could see the tension in the way their golden guide moved. Even if the guard had left its post, there should have been other signs of activity as the group neared the base. Yet the only sound to reach them was the echoing of their footsteps, the only movement in the dark their own cautious progression.
Miz-Mag had moved away from Mickie’s shoulder to scout ahead. His partner’s distance was constrained by the faint light of the lamp, but hopefully it would be enough to forewarn them of any ambushes. They came upon the base, finding it as empty as the halls beyond. The lights were out, lending the place an eery stillness that felt so different from the bustling hub in which Mickie had so recently rested.
‘Hey, I think I got something.’
There was a strain to Miz-Mag’s voice, a tension that spoke of unease. The taller members of the group found the demon a couple of turns away, standing beside a slumped figure. Kalistra held the glowing orb high, casting its light upon the body of an urchin. Something twisted in the back of Mickie’s mind, heat building in the base of his skull and dropping hard into his gut. A painful kind of anger, impotence and sadness congealed into viscous weight.
Logically, Mickie knew the urchins were not as young as their appearance suggested. Yet, the boy was still and silent, absent of any aged intellect that might break the youthful illusion. Someone was speaking, but his ears were filled with the drone of dying cicadas. There were lines. Things even someone as fractured as Mickie would never do, things he would never condone. The urchin, the boy, was a lance through the hollow calm he had been maintaining. A puncture that allowed a memory to swirl into his mind like an unwanted fog.
He was no longer in an underground bunker, but standing instead on soft carpet in a sun dappled room. A woman with dark hair stood by the door, giving him a look of wary concern. Mickie hardly registered the presence of his sister, fixated instead on the two mounds covered by white sheets. He had seen beneath that thin layer of fabric. Had forced himself to check, to be sure.
‘Why Lu?’
The woman sighed.
‘You know how these things go Mik. They weren’t supposed to be here, your hit on the shop should have scared them into hiding.’
Not that. He had known that.
‘Not that’
He spat.
‘Why are they dead?’
A breeze blew through the open window, tickling his face and flaring his anger. Lucia was slow in replying, attempting to place her words carefully.
‘You know they sent in Gil, right. He says they came looking, saw too much.’
‘Gil is a fucking animal! They were kids Lu!’
The anger felt good, felt right. But it fled swiftly, leaving Mickie alone with the loathing. It was always there now days, simmering below the surface.
‘I know Mik. You need to let me…’
‘Let you what? Complain to Claudia? She won’t do shit about it.’
He was fed up. Tired of feeling so empty all the time, tired of running away from emotion so he could keep hold of his last shred of sanity.
‘I’m.’
Mickie swallowed hard.
‘I’m done Lu. I can’t do it anymore.’
Lucia stiffened.
‘What do you mean?’
He did not respond, there was nothing left to say. The loathing he felt was bubbling over, poisoning Mickie, killing him from the inside out. He headed for his sister and the door beside which she hovered. It was time to leave it all behind.
‘Mik, please. What are you doing?’
Stepping past his sister, Mickie made to leave but was stopped by a hand clamping about his forearm. Lucia spun him around, so their eyes met. The look he gave her was dead as ash, and as tired as the oldest ghost.
‘You really want to know?’
He asked with a sigh. Lucia barked a laugh before responding. It was a weak thing, a single ha that mixed anger with a nervous kind of fear.
‘Of course I do, just asked, didn’t I?’
‘Fine. I’m going to go have a chat with Gil. Then I’m going to leave. Go somewhere far away.’
He turned, clenching a hand briefly before releasing it with a sigh. It would be futile, but he had to at least try.
‘You could come. We could start fresh. I know a someone who could get us new identities.’
Mickie was not looking at his sister, but he could hear the pain and desperation that must have been etched upon her face.
‘I can’t go Mik. You can’t go! You know Claudia would never let us leave.’
The empty boy gave a dry laugh of his own.
‘She won’t lift a finger. She knows how much it’ll cost her to stop me.’
‘So what? You just abandon the family? Leave me to the wolves?’
Lucia’s voice had turned angry, nails digging into the meat of his arm. Mickie ripped the appendage from her grasp and met her furious stare. The anger was not the only thing in those eyes, pain danced with resignation in their depths. A small spasm ran through his sister’s top lip, the closest to crying he had ever seen her come.
‘You were always stronger than me Lu.’
Mickie said, his voice tired but resolved.
‘I don’t know what it is that drives you, but I certainly don’t have it.’
He turned away.
‘I’ll leave you a burner in the beach side dead drop. If it all goes to shit and you want out, send me the old code. The one we made up before dad died.’
As he walked away Lucia shouted down the hall after him, a parting shot that would prove to be so terribly prophetic.
‘You really think you can walk away? You are this life Mickie, and eventually you are going to come back to it. I’ll be waiting when you do.’
----------------------------------------
If Mickie had been put off by the dead urchin, Sestus was downright distraught. They had to leave the golden demon standing beside the corpse after Kalistra and Miz-Mag failed to coax a response from it. The remaining trio headed further into the urchin base, less cautious of an ambush but still wary. It was clear from the condition of the body that whatever had happened here had not been recent. Which left the question of why news of the attack had yet to get out.
Luckily the base appeared to have been operating on a skeleton crew, and they only stumbled upon another couple of bodies splayed out in the halls. Mickie moved past them after only a cursory glance. It had taken a concerted effort to push away the twisting loathing that had bubbled up at the sight of the first body. He did not want to test his capability to keep a clear head.
Eventually the three of them came upon a room with a body slumped across the threshold. Partway out, the urchin looked as if they might have been running for the exit when they were struck down. Giving Kalistra a meaningful look, Mickie stepped over the corpse to enter a compact meeting room. The residents of the base must have been gathered for a discussion when the attacker struck, because the space was thick with shadowed mounds.
Mickie felt the buzz starting up at the sight, the drone of cicadas through that open window. He steadied himself, breathing slow of air scented by death. He need to stay empty, stay focussed. Keep it all out.
‘What in the nine happened?’
Kalistra had been stoic at the sight of the first few bodies, but even she struggled to maintain her cool at the carnage laid out before them.
‘I’d say they died.’
Miz-Mag attempted to act unaffected at the death, but Mickie knew his companion well enough to hear the unease behind the bombast. The gorgon did not hear the little demon, moving past the two of them to enter the room. Light reflected off surfaces coated in congealed red, illuminating the grim contents for all to see. Mickie did not follow his serpentine ally through the door, doing all he could to avoid looking directly at the youthful dead. It was through these efforts that he saw it, painted across a wall in crude, bloody strokes. Curved and dripping, a crimson crescent moon.
‘By the blood.’
The curse was little more than a squeak, Miz-Mag having followed his eyes to the mark. Kalistra somehow sensed their unease, because she glanced towards Mickie. On the gorgon’s forehead her tattooed brand stood proud, a ring of bones with a crescent in the centre. Swallowing, the mortal nodded towards the painted wall. Kalistra turned and went rigid as she noticed the very same crescent that marked her, writ large upon the dull steel.
‘I believe.’
Mickie said.
‘That Illiath did not take the sabotage of her mission well.’
Kalistra did not respond, but her hair revealed the turmoil that roiled beneath a stoic exterior. Snakes writhed in agitation, occasionally snapping at one another. No one spoke, moments passing in silence as the group took in the bloody crescent painted across the wall. When a change occurred, it was subtle. Mickie felt a shift in the air, an incomprehensible weight emanating from the serpentine warrior. Realising what was coming, the mortal stepped away from the door and out of sight.
The power spiked and faded, Mickie returning to the room to find Kalistra still standing with her back to him. One clawed hand loosely held her aviators, slack with an empty fatigue that Mickie knew all too well. The bloody wall had been turned to flaky stone, yet the crescent was still discernible as an indentation upon its surface. Kalistra returned her glasses to her face, stomping heavily towards the results of her power.
With a shout of animalistic fury, she drove a scaled fist into the stone, shattering it outwards and into an adjacent storage space. Mickie did not comment as she turned about, walking past him and back down the hall.
‘We should grab Sestus, it’s time to move.’
Her hair was limp, resigned as the women it concealed.
‘And Mickie, that was some good advice you gave, back in the last urchin base.’
They said no more. Kalistra might have been reluctant at first, hopeful perhaps that they might slip past her master. Now they were likely not going to have such luck. His ally felt the cage falling back about her, and was willing to take greater risks than she first realised to stay free.
Mickie could not say for certain if this meant Illiath was on their trail. This attack felt more like revenge than a tactical strike. If the shadowy demon had known they were coming this way, the group would have likely met with an ambush instead of a bloody warning. However, Illiath might have managed to find out something during the strike on the urchins. It was very possible that the meeting at which they had perished was called to discuss Mickie’s imminent escape.
Sestus met the group partway back to the first body. The golden fiend seemed subjued, mourning the loss of its urchins. However, the dumbstruck immobility was gone, and their guide was all too keen to hear what they had discovered alongside Mickie’s thoughts on the attack. Once the mortal finished explaining his logic, even Kalistra seemed a touch more upbeat than before.
‘The question remaining.’ Mickie finished. ‘Is whether Illiath managed to figure out where we are headed.’
‘It would not surprise me.’
Kalistra said, still dour from the scene in the meeting room.
‘It doesn’t matter either way. The tunnel is the only way out of the city, there is nowhere else to go.’
Sestus spoke softly, fear and reluctance colouring the demon’s tone.
‘Is it still worth the risk? We could try for one of the towers.’
Mickie was not one to back down from an enemy, but Belphegor’s forces knew they were in the district and now Illiath was also prowling about.
‘No! The towers are a lost cause. Even if we get you through the forces below there will be more waiting at the top.’
The vehemence with which their guide spoke caught him off guard.
‘You must climb. You must. If we do not succeed now Belphegor will close his hand about us and squeeze. This is the only chance!’
There was a fervour to Sestus, one which reminded Mickie of the vision he had when last asleep. One in which the leader of the urchins had taken orders from the Soul Lord.
‘Why does it matter so much to you that we head up? Old boy, you just lost a whole base, and this is what you take away from it?’
The demon on the mortal’s shoulder made its own suspicions known, and Mickie agreed with Miz-Mag’s point. It was beginning to appear that Sestus’ prior torpor had not been due to grief for the fallen, but fear for the failure of its plan.
‘How can the two of you have been under Belphegor’s thumb and still not agree with me? I don’t think you understand. That old demon has an obsession with the Soul Lord, an unhealthy one. Now that it knows I’m helping you, it will come for you harder than ever. This is the only chance; you need to get to the seventh circle.’
‘I agree with Sestus.’
Kalistra finally broke her silence, anger having steeled into resolve.
‘We need to hope the tunnel remains undiscovered and leave before we are caught.’
Silence fell, the two demons pausing for any further arguments.
‘Ah well kid, while I like this new streak of common sense you got going, we managed a daring escape in the castle. I’d bet we can pull it off again here too.’
That settled it then, all or nothing.
‘Alright. Let’s do it.’
----------------------------------------
A sound echoed through the omnipresent dark as the group trekked through the tunnels, a distant ringing patter. Kalistra reacted immediately, the light of the lamp vanishing as they all came to a standstill. No one spoke, ears straining to pick up the noise. It came again, a rhythmic tapping that grew slightly louder before going silent.
‘Slithestra.’
Sestus spoke the word like a curse into the dark. It was the name of the strange dog-lizard Mickie had seen back when he first arrived in the city. A beast with a head that would unfurl like a flower to release slick tentacles. If he recalled correctly, it had an astounding sense of smell.
‘You can tell that’s what it is? Just from that sound?’
Miz-Mag was impressed, if a little concerned.
‘Yes. Come, I’ll explain as we walk. You can turn the lamp back on Kalistra.’
Light pushed back the veil of darkness, and their golden guide wasted no time in setting off at a brisk pace.
‘There are few things that the urchins hate more than those blighted slithestra. Every time we’ve had a base uncovered it’s because one of those slimy monsters picked up a scent. If you hide beneath the city, you learn to identify the sound of a slithestra’s approach.’
‘So, you know how to lose it?’
Mickie asked, hopeful they might be able to shake the tail before exiting the tunnels.
‘I do not. Sometimes we set up decoy scents, or overwhelm the beast’s senses. Those are always remote traps though, we can’t do it right now.’
‘Then what’s the plan old boy?’
Miz-Mag enquired while casting a wary look behind them.
‘We get out as fast as we can. The slithestra will be coming from the way we entered, and we’re heading in the opposite direction.’
‘Aren’t they fast? Shouldn’t we be running?’
The branded man recalled how quickly the slippery beast had vanished when its handler lost control.
‘On their own, sure. Notice how its approach is staggered though? That’ll be the team they sent down, reeling it in before it gets too far.’
‘And we are currently moving faster than the hunting team?’
Kalistra asked from the back of their procession. Sestus gave a low chuckle before replying.
‘Yes, that we are. I mentioned scent traps for the slithestra, well, we usually have other surprises waiting for uninvited guests. The kind that instils a heavy dose of caution. Belphegor’s lot will be moving at a snail’s pace.’
‘Wouldn’t they know the base has fallen though?’
‘Likely not.’
Mickie responded.
‘Belphegor knew we were coming, and to an extent, how we were arriving. If it had known of this base, it would have set an ambush.’
‘Exactly. Illiath was probably cut loose after failing at the hive.’
Sestus concluded while leading them up a narrow shaft and into a broad service tunnel.
‘We’re getting close to the exit now. The rest of the way will have to be covered above ground.’
Mickie hoped that they would be able to fly under Belphegor’s radar. If the old lord did not know about the escape tunnel, then its forces should be spread thin throughout the district. The group reached a ladder leading to a hatch, and their golden guide waved for a stop. In the distance Mickie could still hear the faint sound of pursuit from the slithestra.
‘Keep close. We’ll be leaning more into speed then stealth this time around.’
After receiving confirmation from the mortal and gorgon, Sestus grasped a rung of the ladder and hauled itself upwards. They all followed close behind and in moments Mickie was pulling himself into a narrow alleyway. A ragged group of demons nearby swiftly made themselves scarce as Kalistra’s serpentine hair emerged from the dark. The branded man watched them flee, hoping they were too afraid to mention anything the enforcers prowling their streets.
The group ran hard through trash strewn streets in the shadow of stained concrete housing. The group of demons Mickie had noted when emerging from the underground turned out to be a rare sight. Unlike their ride into the district there was almost no one left wandering beyond the safety of four sturdy walls. The presence of the enforcers had scared everyone inside.
While not the greatest boon to their chances of remaining undiscovered, the lack of crowds allowed for rapid progress. When everything started to go wrong, it did so without warning and at incredible speed. So much so, that Mickie almost missed the moment when their luck ran out.
A grey blur hurtled out from a street up ahead, twisting towards them with the clack of claws on stone. Sestus’ arms shifted under its cloak, and something flashed beneath the dim glow of an overhead lamp. The grey mass was resolved as a slithestra, one that had a rune encrusted dagger buried in the meat of its unfurled head.
Without slowing Sestus raised a hand, flicking its wrist as if motioning for something. The bloody runes on the weapon glowed intensely, before the sharp sliver of steel was hurtling through the air towards them. Their golden guide caught the dagger and it vanished into a fold of dark cloak. The entire encounter had lasted the space of moments, but everyone in their party knew what it meant. They had been discovered.
As if in confirmation of the thought a shout went up as they passed the street from which the slithestra had emerged. As they ran past Mickie glimpsed a large force of demons pounding the pavement in their direction, weapons raised. They had avoided these enforcers, but already the branded man could make out calls in every direction.
They fled, taking sharp turns at reckless speed, risking a fall for a chance at escape. Then Mickie rounded a bend to discover Sestus partway up a tall demon, one hand grasping its jacket while the other buried a dagger in its neck. The enforcer’s companions were reacting with surprise, giving the gunman the time he needed to summon his weapon and shoot into their midst. Before the first of the demons could even shout at the attack Kalistra was upon them.
‘By the blood, blighted savages is what you all are.’
Miz-Mag cackled as the party continued onwards, moans and shouts of pain in their wake. When the next encounter with their pursuers came, it was with far less luck. Belphegor’s minions must have figured out their heading because Mickie approached a corner only to be met by Sestus coming back the other way. The crack of gunfire followed, chipping small craters in the surrounding concrete.
‘Blockade. Big one. We’ll need to go around.’
Mickie cursed but did not object, and the party wrapped through another series of twisting alleys. The mortal had no doubt that this would cost them precious time, a resource of which they were in slim supply. When Sestus once again retreated from a street he almost took the corner anyway. He had stormed blockades in the palace, he could do so again here. The golden fiend seemed to have read his thoughts, catching Mickie’s arm and pulling him aside.
‘You cannot risk yourself, you must…’
Power built in the air behind them as Kalistra rushed by. The gorgon took the corner without hesitation and was met by the crack of gunfire. Mickie wrenched himself free of the golden fiend’s grasp and followed as the serpentine warrior’s gaze tore into the enforces. He came about the bend to the sight of a small army of stone figures.
Kalistra had caught most of them in her attack, but not all. A collection of enforcers at the back were desperately weaving about their petrified comrades. Mickie had no such obstacles and charged the barricade as the gorgon sagged in exhaustion. Shots zipped past as the demons attempted to fire at him through the stone forest of bodies. The mortal raised his jacket arm before his head and barged right into the first row of rigid statues.
He hit the densely packed ranks like a battering ram, crashing through one and knocking over half a dozen others. The effect dominoed out from his position and soon all the stone enforcers were tipping over, catching their fleshy counterparts in the fall. Miz-Mag laughed in glee as Mickie got to work.
At some point Sestus caught up to lend assistance and by the time they were done with the blockade Kalistra had recovered enough to jog over. The power the gorgon had expended was tremendous, and it showed in the slump of her shoulders and lethargy in her step. Mickie could see a couple of bloody marks where bullets had clipped her in the moments before she struck. They had no time to rest however, and ran from the remnants of the fight with as much speed as they could muster.
The golden demon at their head appeared to be leading them in a strange route. It took sporadic turns, never doubling back but also avoiding a single direction. While odd, the reason was soon made apparent when no further blockades formed in their path. By scrambling their heading Sestus hampered the enforcer’s ability to set themselves up ahead of the party. Soon they were closing in on a monstrous wall, nearly as tall as the cliffs between districts. It was the border of the black city, a barrier protecting the metropolis from the endless darkness of the eighth circle.
‘We’re close. Can lose them in the tunnel.’
Even a demon like Sestus could tire, rasping out the words between mouthfuls of air. Mickie was no better, his lungs burning and chest heaving. Yet, they had almost made it. Had even managed to shake the enforcers enough to give themselves a bit of breathing room. Sestus took one final turn and came to a stop beside a nondescript door in an alley. Their guide fumbled in its cloak, pulling free a swipe card and inserting it into the lock.
They slid into a grubby maintenance room, characterised by an open hole in one corner. A hatch sat ajar, the open path of their escape route. Sestus paused momentarily at the sight, but swiftly shook itself and got to work. The fiend grabbed a strange device from a cloth bag on the shelf and set it on the floor.
‘What are you…’
‘No time. Let’s go.’
The head urchin straightened, waving them towards the open access hatch. With a parting glance to the odd box now sitting exposed on the floor, Mickie followed Kalistra into the dark, on the final stretch towards freedom.