Swoop cracked a half-smile at that. He actually seemed to be thinking about what Wren had said. That was more than Wren had hoped for. He decided to push.
“If you’ve ever thought of me as your governor, Swoop, please believe me now. I have to go back. Let us go.”
Swoop worked his jaw. “You givin’ me an order?”
“I’m asking you.”
Swoop shook his head. “Are you giving me an order, sir?”
It still took Wren a second to understand what he was saying. And then he got it. “Oh. Yes. I order you to let us go.”
Swoop nodded.
“Gamble, Swoop,” he said. “…No, everything’s fine. Just wanted to let you know Painter and the governor are with me… Yeah, check. I’ll explain later.”
He’d said it so casually Wren wasn’t exactly sure what he’d meant. “So, you’re going to let us go?”
“I’m gonna take you there myself.”
“No, Swoop, you can’t…” Wren started, but Swoop raised his eyebrows and gave him a look that made him stop mid-sentence.
“Give me five minutes to gear up.”
“Swoop, I don’t know what they’ll do to you if you go back. And I don’t think I’ll be able to stop it.”
He shook his head. “That’s my home,” Swoop said. “Earned in blood. I don’t reckon anybody has say over whether I get to keep it.” He held up his hand with all five fingers up. “Five minutes.”
Swoop headed out of the entryway back down the hall with his aggressive pace. Painter and Wren stood awkwardly waiting, neither really sure what had just happened or what it would mean. Wren had to admit he felt a lot better about the trip, knowing Swoop would be along too. And maybe he’d be able to convince Swoop to hang back as they got closer to Morningside, at least long enough for Wren to get an idea of what might happen.
It didn’t even take a full five minutes before Swoop was back and all geared up.
“Governor,” he said. “After you.”
Wren led the way out through the door of the building. As they stepped outside, the morning air chilled Wren almost instantly. The sky above was steel grey and heavy with clouds, and there was a stillness to the air that made Wren think of snow. Their breaths came out in cloudy puffs. Wren pulled up his hood and jammed his hands in his coat pocket.
“Your mama’s gonna kill me,” Swoop said.
“And me,” Painter said.
“I assume you got a plan for the gates?” Swoop asked.
Wren nodded and stepped towards them. They were large and heavy, but the locks that held them fast were simple encoded devices, easy to see. Wren stretched out through the digital and unlocked them. Painter pushed the first open, and then closed it behind them. Swoop got the second.
“Make sure you lock ’em back,” Swoop said as they passed through. Wren didn’t even need to turn around to do it. Together, with Wren leading the way, the three of them set out into the cold grey dawn.
TWENTY-THREE
Once they’d gotten a few minutes out from the refuge, Wren shared the route information he’d learned from Wick with Swoop. The path took them almost due east for a number of miles, to an old bridge called the Windspan. Wren didn’t know why it was named that, just that it was supposed to be big. Swoop didn’t like the idea.
Wick had mentioned that it wasn’t a good area, but he hadn’t specified why, and Wren had been too afraid to ask what he meant. After Swoop explained why, Wren was even more relieved that Swoop had come with them. The northern end of the bridge, where they’d be starting their journey across, was apparently a known thoroughfare for scrapers and other kinds of people that none of them wanted to meet.
Swoop wanted to find a different route, but it didn’t take long for him to realize the Windspan really was the best option. At least, in the sense that it seemed to be the only option if they wanted to make the trip in a single day. After that, they didn’t spend much time talking. Swoop took over leading the way, and Wren was glad to have someone else to follow.
Even though he had done his best to prepare himself for what the day would bring, Wren couldn’t stop thinking about having left Mama behind. He’d had to say goodbye to her once before, but he hadn’t had any choice back then. Now, with each step taking him further and further away from her, his throat and chest tightened. At least she would be safe, or safer anyway, apart from him. He guessed he himself would be the target of Asher’s fury, and maybe that would make everything OK for Mama. He was glad he had his hood up, so the others couldn’t see him cry.