She took a sharp breath then pressed her lips together, expecting an icy rush of water to surround her. Instead, they hit a dock. Even cushioned by Dorran’s body, Clare had the air forced out of her. She couldn’t stop a cry as her shoulder jarred.
They rolled to a stop. Clare prised open her eyes. Dorran had caught the rope’s loop on one of the dock’s pillars to pull the boat within jumping distance, but without the other end secured, the vessel was already drifting away.
The captain appeared, crouched on the railing like a bird of prey, eyes flashing as he peered down at them. He looked ready to leap, but Dorran moved forward, blocking the end of the dock, hands raised in preparation to rebuff the attack. The captain’s teeth parted to release a hiss, and hatred flashed through his eyes. Then, reluctantly, he slunk backwards, disappearing into the ship.
Dorran waited until the boat was out of reach then slumped back. He turned to Clare, his words a whisper that almost disappeared under the pounding rain. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She crept to his side. They waited a moment, listening. Nothing came down the dock towards them. Nothing appeared between the buildings. Clare could only hope the rain had masked the noise of their disembarking.
The riverboat continued to drift, carrying its captain with it. Clare wondered where it would end up—trapped somewhere downriver, perhaps. Or the boat might make it all the way to the ocean, carrying its loyal owner onto far rougher seas than the ship had been designed for.
Dorran’s hand wrapped around hers. Even with the gloves in the way, it was a comfort. He helped her stand, then they turned towards the city and the tangle of metal and glass that hid Helexis Tower.
Chapter Forty
Clare’s breathing echoed inside the mask. She tucked at the fabric around her neck, making sure it was tight and that none of her skin would be visible. The rain had already soaked through her jacket, and her skin crawled as icy water ran over it.
She followed Dorran along the dock. Its end connected with a concrete platform, with stairs leading up to a brick-patterned street. That part of the city had been designed for tourism. Overpriced eateries faced the water, and a small shack nearby offered to sell tickets to a river taxi.
The area was showing its age. Water stains marked the concrete, and sun exposure had discoloured the eateries’ signs. As she and Dorran climbed onto the street, Clare saw dark stains scattered across the brown interlaced bricks. The frenzy of the quiet zones must have caused people to spill their drinks.
No. Not drinks. Her stomach turned. Blood.
The stains were the only remnants of what must have been a massacre. She held Dorran’s hand. He squeezed back. They couldn’t risk speaking, but she was grateful to have him at her side. She didn’t think she would have had the courage to step into the city otherwise.
The brick street ran along the river’s edge, sometimes widening to make room for a children’s play area, sometimes being encroached on by overturned plastic restaurant chairs. Seeing it empty felt strange. Straight ahead, the bricks led between two apartments to reach the first proper road. There wasn’t much light with the angry clouds choking the sky, and the towering apartments conspired to block out what little there was. The walkway between them was dark enough to be night.
Dorran bent close so that she could hear his whisper over the drumming rain. “I think speed will be to our advantage. We stay together but move quickly. Agreed?”
Clare nodded. She wanted to keep holding his hand, but it would slow them down too much, so she reluctantly let go. Her fingers felt empty. She flexed them, wishing she had some kind of weapon to hold, at least. She might find something inside the restaurants if they took the time to search them. But that carried too much risk. Every minute they were exposed only invited more danger.
Was this a mistake? Helexis Tower was only five blocks away. She had to keep her eyes fixed on it and not look back. We didn’t have anywhere else to go. This is our best chance. Isn’t it?
She was acutely aware that the tower had the ability to save them or destroy them. They were too deep into the city to walk out intact. Five blocks to the tower was likely all they could manage, and even that was a terrible risk.
Dorran was silent at her side. She had led him further than either of them had planned. He had never even wanted to leave Winterbourne, but he had, for her sake. Every step of the path had been her decision. Clare prayed she hadn’t brought him to his death.
Their pace quickened from a walk to a jog as they crossed the stained bricks. They put their heads down as they passed between the buildings. Clare could feel their presence over her, smothering her like a heavy blanket. She hazarded a look towards the structure at her right.
Faces pressed against the windows. Emaciated bodies bobbed as the apartment’s occupants, trapped inside their rooms and without enough wits to know how to open the doors, paced. They watched the two humans below them, hands slapping the glass, hungry and frustrated. Clare’s eyes moved higher up the building. There were dozens of them. Never more than one per room, though. It was like what she’d seen in the cars; the hollows would hunt in loose packs in the wilderness and forest, but when trapped in close quarters, the weaker members were eaten.
Those would have been family, once. Best friends. Parents and children on a holiday, excited to visit the city, enjoying their views over the water.
She turned to face the road again, eyes burning. Cars blocked the street. Two had crashed, their tyres riding up onto the sidewalk and their crumbled bonnets hanging through
