“I’ll be moving fast, Mouse.”
“I’m not going to try to change your mind, Cass, but I hope you know we’re trying to do the right thing by you and your boy. All of us are.”
Cass just focused on her packing. Good enough. She closed it up and slung the strap over her shoulder. Cinched it tight against her body. She turned and faced the door, where Mouse was standing.
“Let us know when you get there,” Mouse said.
“I will.”
Mouse nodded and backed out of the door reluctantly. “Watch yourself out there,” he said as she passed by. She stopped next to him.
“This isn’t how I wanted things to go,” Cass said.
“I know.”
“Take care of yourself.”
“You too. We’ll catch up when we can.”
Lil was waiting for her by the front entrance. They exchanged a few brief words, warm but hurried. Lil led her out through the gates and, unexpectedly, embraced Cass before they parted ways. Cass thanked her a final time and started off at run, trusting that her body would perform what she demanded of it. East to the bridge, and then south.
The snow was falling steadily in big wet flakes, coating the ground in a thin layer of slick grey slush. Just deep enough to leave footprints. It looked pretty as it fell, though, and made everything feel more peaceful to Wren. It seemed somehow less likely that anything bad could happen when it was snowing.
“Alright, check,” Swoop whispered. He stopped walking and turned towards the boys, motioned them close. “Mama’s on the way.”
“I thought Guh, Gamble was going to keep her there,” Painter said.
“Said she’d try.”
“Is she mad?” Wren asked.
“I’d count on it.”
“Are we going to wuh, wuh… to wait for her?”
Swoop shook his head. “We can’t sit in one place for long. She’ll have to catch up on her own.”
He paused and scanned their surroundings, intensely, like he was looking for something in particular. He’d been leading them in a fairly predictable path for the first several miles, mostly straight ahead. But for the past half hour or so, Wren had noticed a change in their pace and their pattern of movement. Their progress had been inconsistent, with more pauses, and they’d taken to winding through different alleys, sometimes even doubling back.
Wren knew they weren’t lost, but it almost felt like that. For all the walking, they hadn’t made nearly as much progress towards the bridge as Wren would’ve expected. Wren was briefly tempted to check their location, but he’d decided it was too risky. If Asher was out there looking for him, he might be able to locate Wren’s signal.
Swoop lowered his head and leaned towards them again.
“Look,” he said. “I don’t want to scare you, but it’s best if you know. We picked up a couple of stragglers. Been trailin’ us about fifteen minutes now.”
“Who are they?” Painter asked.
“Nobody we want to meet. Keep your eyes up.”
They nodded, and then Swoop turned and led them forward. As they moved, Wren glanced behind them, looking for any sign of the people Swoop had seen. He didn’t notice anyone, but he understood in a flash why Swoop had been shaking his head at the sky earlier. Their trail was clearly marked; three sets of slushy footprints, highlighted by the edges with crusted white. The snow would cover it up eventually, but definitely not soon enough to hide their tracks from their pursuers. He hoped they wouldn’t have to fight anyone. But he checked his knife in his belt anyway.
Swoop took them through narrow streets and alleys, hemmed in on both sides by sagging tenements with holes through the walls. The amount of debris and rubble in the streets was more than Wren could ever remember seeing. It was almost like someone had picked up each of the surrounding buildings and shaken their contents out all over the street. Most of the junk had been transformed by the snow into white lumps with the occasional jagged edge or frayed cable poking out. Wren could hardly believe that anyone would be living out here. But he couldn’t escape the feeling that others were around them. And not just behind them. He felt sure they were on all sides.
The snowfall had lightened, the flakes smaller and swirling on the wind. But it was starting to accumulate in a thin sheet of white, almost like frost on top of the slush. Wren glanced to his left as they passed an alley and caught a glimpse of two figures at the far end. They seemed to have just been standing there, and Wren got the feeling that maybe they’d been waiting there.
Off to his right, a loud squawking call went up, echoed through the side streets. Further ahead on their left, it was answered by a screech. They sounded more like animal noises than any kind of human.