If I’d thought buildings dark before, they were virtually black inside due to the thick curtain of rain. Fawke pointed to a button between my eyes, then pushed his. A flashlight beam shined from his forehead.
I smiled, thinking it merely a piece that helped hold the suit together, and pressed mine. Now that we could see, Fawke continued forward, pulling his sword.
We saw no sign of Malignants on the first floor of the building and climbed iron stairs in a narrow stairwell to the next floor. The door hung on rusty hinges. A cursory glance showed a large, mostly empty room with overturned cabinets, shattered windows, and charred walls. The third floor looked the same. Nothing here.
Down the stairs and to the next building. Even with the mask the foul air almost choked me. The Malignants had been there, recently.
Fawke motioned me forward, heading in the direction the odor came from. We stepped into a room full of mounds of dried grass in the shapes of large bird nests. While it was obvious the creatures slept here, none were in sight. Keeping against the wall, we continued through the building.
I strained my ears for the slightest sound. It wouldn’t come from us unless we brushed up against or rattled something. The rubber soles of our suits made very little noise. The gray of the material blended us into the walls. Someone on the hill had thought through the purpose of the suits. My guess was a former Stalker. For our good or our demise was left to be determined. I had the sinking feeling we were considered very expendable despite my words to the contrary.
Fawke halted us at the rattle of a stone to our right. He motioned his fingers for me to follow him in that direction.
A Malignant squatted in the middle of a room, his nostrils twitching. It never turned its head in our direction.
I smiled. It could see the light, but it couldn’t smell us through the rubber. They might have brains, but were too stupid to think this new strange creature in front of them a danger.
I kicked a piece of rubble, sending it crashing into a wall. The creature turned its head in that direction and screamed. I raised my sword and removed its head. I started to ask why we didn’t wear the suits every day in our quest to rid the world of the vermin, but the sweat pouring down my back answered me. I removed my mask and lifted my face to a cool, but rancid breeze wafting down a hallway.
Fawke allowed a few seconds before motioning that I put the mask back on. I understood my scent was traceable without every inch of me covered, but I wasn’t used to the same discipline and hardships he was.
By mid-day, we’d gone through four of the buildings across the street and only seen the one creature I’d killed. Fawke led me to the top of a building where he bolted a steel door, preventing anything from joining us. A metal awning over a steel box provided us a safe place to sit from the rain.
I removed my mask and pulled the suit from my head. I hadn’t felt anything so good in a very long time.
Fawke handed me a canteen. After I drank and handed it back, he handed over a firmly packed protein bar. I grimaced, knowing it would fill my belly and provide necessary nutrients but would taste like dirty cardboard.
I perched on the steel box and took a bite. “Have you had contact with your mother since The Wheel?”
“No. I miss her every day, but it doesn’t do me any good to dwell on that fact. I’ll see her in two years, if she’s still alive. Thank you for letting me know she misses me and is well.”
I almost hoped another Stalker would arrive, someone to tell me Mam was well. Homesickness sat heavy in my chest every second since I’d arrived there. Fawke was the closest I could call to a friend in the city, and even that was questionable considering the way Gage had gazed at him. Loneliness was a constant companion. I wasn’t sure I could endure ten years of it.
“What happened to your father?”
“He died in the mine. Yours?”
“Same.” Most of the men died that way. Mine had fathered me and soon after left my mother a widow with an infant to raise. “Mam is a seamstress working on clothes for the rich, people she never sees. I’ve seen her run her hands over the silks and satins with a faraway look in her eyes. Sometimes, I dreamed she was one of them who’d been cast out because she’d fallen in love with a poor boy.” I laughed without humor. “Childhood fantasies.”
“You still dream, Crynn. I hear you sobbing in your sleep.” Worry shadowed his features. “Some can’t handle the life we live. They snap.”
“And die. That won’t happen to me.”
“I hope not. You’ve been a smart leader so far. The black tracks on your face are fading.”
I touched my cheek. “Will I be punished for not replacing them?”
“I’ve not read a rule that says you have to replace them if they fade, only that you cannot remove them. I think it’s a test of some sort.” He smiled. “The sweat is helping them to disappear.”
I’d be painting them back on as soon as we returned. I wasn’t taking any chances of spending the rest of my life here for such a small infraction.
I stood. The
