“Alright, check,” Sky answered. He gave one last look at Heavy, still in his sights. It’d be so easy. But now it’d just be revenge. Heavy stood slowly and advanced cautiously into the alley, weapon still shouldered. “Sky moving.”
Wren was trembling, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the cold, or the nerves, or a combination of the two. He felt it mostly in his chest, and no matter how hard he squeezed his arms into his sides, his ribcage just kept on vibrating like he had some kind of machine stuck inside. He pulled the hood up on his coat. It made it a little harder to see what was going on around him, but maybe that was OK. Wren was just focused on keeping near Mama anyway. And Wick. His job was to stay with Wick.
He hoped Kit was OK. He’d heard the shots, of course. But everything had happened so fast after that, and no one had mentioned anything, and he wasn’t supposed to talk or ask any questions. He’d always liked her, even though Wren didn’t know her very well. She’d been one of the first he’d Awakened, even before Mez, and she’d been the easiest to help. And now Mez was dead, and Luck, and now maybe Kit too. It seemed especially cruel, to him; like life had been twice stolen from them. The hollow promise of a second chance, snatched away.
The heavy quiet still seemed eerie, like the silence that falls after some background noise everyone had grown accustomed to suddenly goes away. And everything they did seemed too loud in it. Their footsteps, the jangle of their gear, even their breathing. Wren found himself breathing through his mouth, just to try to keep quiet.
The air was cold enough that he could just see his breath every once in a while, if he was looking for it, and there was enough light to see. For the most part, though, Wick was leading them through back alleys and narrow passages where the street lamps were fewer and the shadows were darker. If Wren had ever been down any of these paths, he certainly didn’t recognize them now. He wasn’t even sure which direction they were headed, except he assumed they were getting steadily closer to the wall. Wren also realized he had no idea how long it’d been since they’d left the Tea House. It seemed like they’d been walking a long time, way longer than it should’ve taken. But he remembered traveling with Three, and how sometimes when you were scared and tired, a few minutes could seem like an hour. And right now, Wren was a little scared, and really, really tired.
He bumped into Cass without even realizing he’d lost focus. Apparently they were stopping. A few steps ahead, Wick was crouched low, whispering something that Wren couldn’t make out. Wick turned around and motioned for them all to get low. Straight ahead looked like a brick wall, so they were either at an intersection of alleys, or a dead end. They waited in silence for several minutes, or what seemed like it anyway. Wren heard Gamble whisper, and then a few moments later Wick did too. Talking to each other, probably. It was strange, the way they communicated. Wick had called it their secure channel, but Wren didn’t know how it worked. It wasn’t like pimming, exactly, and somehow it didn’t feel the same. It sounded funny; tinny, with static. Low signal, low profile. Maybe it was something they had developed to avoid attracting the Weir when they were out beyond the wall.
Gamble and Wick took turns, whispering back and forth a few times, and then Gamble came up from the back of the line and crouched down next to Wick. Wren couldn’t help but wonder if something had gone wrong. They hadn’t seen any patrols, or really anyone for that matter, since they’d left Mister Sun’s. Whether that was because Wick was such a good pathfinder, or because Finn and Sky were out there somewhere helping guide them around, Wren wasn’t sure. But this was the first time they’d stopped in one place for this long. Wren’s legs were starting to go to sleep.
Finally, Wick moved forward and disappeared around a corner, but Gamble turned to face them and held up a hand, signaling for them to wait. She seemed to be listening intently for something. After another minute or two, she nodded.
“Alright, check,” she whispered. “Wren first.”
Wren didn’t like the sound of that. Gamble pointed at him, and then motioned for him to join her. He walked to her bent double, and his legs were all tingly from the long wait. When he got to her, she put a hand on his shoulder and her lips right next to his ear.
“We’re going to cross one at a time,” Gamble whispered. “Wick’s waiting around the corner. I want you to go first, OK?”
“OK.”
“Here, look.” She leaned Wren out a little so he could see around the corner. They were in a small T-intersection, and beyond it there was a wide stretch of open ground ending at the wall. Almost there. Gamble let him stand up straight again and then said, “Just run straight across. Wick’s waiting right on the other side, OK?”