“What’s the difference?” Dianna said.
“From what we understand, Fury’s citizens choose if they want to fight in their army. The citizens of Fear have no such luxury. If you’re old enough, or sometimes you only have to be large enough, they dress you in a blue uniform, put a baton in your hand, and send you to war with a hearty slap on the back.”
The boy downstairs heaved again.
“Hawk!” Olga lunged for the stocky hunter. She missed, grabbing air where he’d been seconds before.
Hawk slipped down the stairs.
The soldier’s next heave got cut short, Hawk gripping him in a headlock.
Gracie’s face twisted, her skin puce. “What’s he doing?”
“Am I his fucking minder?” Olga said.
A scuffle played out, and a few seconds later, Hawk emerged, the muscles in his right arm bulging from where he dragged the soldier up the stairs.
Even Max’s expression had changed, his jaw hanging loose.
Hawk dragged the soldier into the middle of the room and dropped him on the floor.
When the blue uniformed boy opened his mouth to scream, Gracie shoved Hawk aside and kicked the kid in the head. The crack of her connection whipped around the room. Fear’s soldier fell limp.
Gracie bared her teeth at the still-grinning Hawk. Veins stood out on her neck, and her eyes bulged. “What are you doing?”
Hawk’s grin fell. He looked at the others. While they might not have levelled the same rage on him, from the way his expression sagged further, he realised he’d done something wrong. He pointed at the soldier. “I thought I’d eliminate the threat.”
“What threat?” Gracie hands slapped against her thighs from where she’d thrown up a hard shrug. “He was puking his guts up. All you’ve done is blown our cover.”
“But I-I—”
“You what, Hawk? Is there really a sane justification for what you’ve just done?”
“I wanted to protect everyone.”
“But you’ve done the exact opposite.” The ginger girl tapped her temple. “If you used that small brain of yours and thought for a second …” Her cheeks bulged with her exhale. “We were in hiding up here. We could have rested and waited for this to pass.”
Just the mention of rest dragged on William’s frame.
“B—”
“What do we do now when someone comes looking for him? Because they will.”
“I thought a hostage would come in handy.”
“We’re trying to get out of this city. What do we want a hostage for? We want nothing from them.”
Artan stepped between the two. “It’s done now. The question is, what the hell do we do with him?”
“Jason?”
The soldier’s partner had returned to the shop. Gracie shook her head at Hawk while pulling her knife from the back of her belt.
William reached the top of the stairs by the time Gracie stepped from the bottom. The blue soldier turned her way, his mouth hanging open, his response silenced by the hard crack of Gracie’s knife entering the top of his skull.
They joined Gracie downstairs. She levelled her blood-soaked blade on Hawk. “Next time, use your fucking brain, yeah?”
“I just—”
“You screwed up, Hawk,” Matilda said. “Accept it and shut up.”
Hawk frowned and stumbled back as if Matilda’s chastisement had a physicality to it.
“Now maybe we can still get out of here.” Gracie lifted the dead soldier, hooking a hand under each armpit. Olga helped, the two girls heading towards the stairs. “If we can get this soldier upstairs, at least it’ll take them a while to find him. It might give us the time we need.”
The room lit up with a bright white glow. A drone fixed on them. Its guns whirred.
“Shit!” Gracie dropped the corpse. “Follow me!” She ran through the back of the shop.
Adrenaline came to William’s aid again. Driven by a hard surge, he followed his friends out of the derelict building.
Chapter 16
The glow from the drone’s brilliant white beam sent the group’s shadows streaking ahead of them, stretched-out versions of their fleeing selves. At least it drove away William’s fatigue. He could push through that, but maybe not the numb buzz in his shins. How long before that pain got the better of him? At some point it would hit him with both barrels, and he’d grind to a halt. Hopefully, that moment would come after they’d found safety.
Gracie set a demanding pace with her zigzagging run. An example of how to avoid being shot.
At the rear again, Matilda directly ahead of him, William ran left and then right, all the while trying to keep up with the rest. Each sudden change in direction could be his last, his legs wobbling, threatening to give. The sharp chips of asphalt spurred him on. They sprayed a stinging attack against his calves and the backs of his thighs from where the drone tried and failed to execute him.
Gracie led them left down a tight alley.
Seconds after William entered, the place glowed with the drone’s bright white glare, but the sharp turn made it crash into one wall and then the other. The battle for control halted its fire.
William reached the end and turned left. Another main road, but at least the alley had slowed the drone. Gracie led them into another shop like she had the route mapped out in her mind.
William ducked the spray of plaster from the wall on his left. The drone too far away to hit them. It clearly realised the same. The bullets stopped again. Why waste ammo? It had to run out at some point, right?
Matilda called back to him, “You okay?”
His lungs were tighter than ever. His response would rob him of the breaths he needed. The gap grew between him and Matilda. He waved her on when she turned to look at him. “Just keep running!”
The high street behind them, Gracie ran for another gigantic building. Its entrance made from a steel frame, the remains of the windows it would have once held lay spread out in a glistening mess on the ground. Fifty feet wide and as tall, this place must
