Ahead of us, a Scorp warrior has made its way to the rooftops – but before it can let out the terrifying scream and alert the others of its kind, Forn throws both of his twin daggers through the air – right into the Scorp’s glowing, red eyes.
The scuttling creature falls instantly, and Forn yanks his deadly weapons from its shattered skull. If nothing else, the Aurelians can certainly make short work of even these monstrous creatures.
But, once again, where the hell did they come from?
Don’t they know that Aurelians are banished from this sector? And have been for three decades? Don’t they know that if the Capital’s troops catch them, they’ll be executed, shot on sight, or worse?
Even if we do make it out of Barl, I realize it’s going to be just the start of our problems.
We approach the towering walls. The city gates are supposed to have guards stationed there, with rifles – but they were either taken by the Scorp already, or abandoned their posts and fled the moment they saw the huge, organic ships plummeting down across the city.
I have the sickening suspicion it was the second option. Who could stand to defend themselves against such vicious creatures, when the freedom and safety of the empty plains beckoned just steps beyond the walls?
The Aurelians would stand and fight – that much they’ve proven to me already.
The walls of Barl are where the poorest of the poor live – who dwell in miserable shanty towns erected from scrap, right up against the city walls. Every few months the government comes and bulldozes the structures, but they’re generally rebuilt by the very next day.
There’s a certain irony to it. The poorest of the poor were treated like scum in Barl, and yet they were the only ones close enough to the city gates to escape the city.
As we reach the walls, I clamber down the side of the lopsided buildings, helping the four children as we descend.
They’re even more nimble than I am, but we still have to be careful to avoid falls and injuries. I still have my med pack, but supplies are dangerously low – and we’re running out of time.
Where do we even go once we escape? Aurelians are lucky if they aren’t killed on sight.
My gut is telling me to head towards the Capital. It’ll be the safest place for the children – but the most dangerous for the Aurelians. If a Capital patrol saw us as we approached…
…would the patrol wait long enough to let me explain that these Aurelians saved my life? The lives of the kids?
Or would they kill us all on sight?
The city walls now stand before us, eerily empty. I point through the southern gateway, not knowing where else to send us, and together our little group walks through the empty, swinging, totally unguarded city gates.
As we step outside the city limits, I think about what strange company we make: The burly, tattooed Aurelians – who can’t even speak their own damned language and are clad in loincloths, like a bunch of savages.
Then there are four dirty children, with scrapes on their knees and determination in their eyes.
Finally, there’s me – just a girl trying to keep my sanity in a world gone increasingly mad.
I take one last look behind me, nervous that Scorp warriors are in hot pursuit. I feel like I’m saying goodbye to the godsforsaken city – but it’s not just the Gods that have forsaken it now.
There are no Scorp, at least. I guess they’re all busy in the city streets, tearing through homes and dragging out the last of the screaming survivors. It’s a grim thought.
If the Capital doesn’t send troops soon, there’ll be no one left to save.
We walk away from the city – marching for an hour in complete silence. Each of us is processing the horror of what we just survived in our own, individual way.
Eventually, we draw closer to a forest in the distance. As we approach, I realize it might give us shelter for the night.
Yet, even as I’m thinking we’ve reached temporary safety, Forn stumbles ahead of us, falling to the dirt without a sound.
I rush to him, but before I can reach the fallen warrior, his two battle brothers are already kneeling next to him. They pull a flask from their belts and give him a sip of water. Forn takes a draught – and then coughs violently, choking.
I suddenly realize how weak he truly is. Forn has taken all of the blows, and that gunshot wound would have already proven fatal if I hadn’t used a charge of the sealant gun on it.
“He’s dying,” says Stacy ominously.
“Good,” replies Runner, and I gasp at his tone of hatred.
“Runner! He saved your life!”
“Aurelians are evil inc-arn-ate,” he growls, stumbling over the unfamiliar word.
I know Runner must have heard his father say that Aurelians are ‘evil incarnate’, and is merely repeating it. Hearing the words of his prejudiced father echoing through his abandoned son makes me sick.
Prejudiced father? Who am I kidding? I cursed the Aurelians myself when my damned wrench broke earlier today. Maybe I, too, have misjudged the species. These three Aurelians went with me to save Runner and Tyler when they could have left just the city and avoided all this danger completely.
I run my hand over Forn’s sweating face. His eyes roll back until I see the whites of them, and Hadone points to his battle-brother’s thigh; at the small wound where Forn plunged the barb of Scorp-venom into his leg.
I nod, understanding instantly. Forn is in a deep, feverish state from an overdose of venom. Somehow, these Aurelians are able to survive the poison – but it affects them in ways I still don’t understand.
Good. Think critically. Think like a nurse.
It’s hard to
