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Chapter 103

So, as official leader/gatherer/person-who-settles-everything, I get to introduce our little band of rebels to the army of the Old City.
I line them up nice and proper and as straight as I can get them, to look impressive in front of Purr, who's hundred or so soldiers fall into order flawlessly within a space of seconds, while Bugs runs around in circles for about ten minutes whining that he has to pee.
They all stand looking a little awkward while I rattle off names. Luckily, Purr doesn't do that too, or we would be there for a much, much longer time. The awkwardness ends when Joe sneezes hard and blows herself ten feet up in the air. I really don't know what to say to that.
I wonder what Coal would say to - Where's Coal?!
"Um, yeah, well, I'm sure we're all feeling wonderfully chummy and, erm, disturbed," I eye Joe, who's fallen to the ground from laughing, while the soldiers of the Old City slap each other on the back and laugh just to look like they know what happened. "And I'm going to go and, uh, consult my, er, consultant..." I nod to Purr, who shrugs, and turns to her soldiers, commanding order.
But I barely hear her shouting above the howling and rowdy laughter. Any thought of Joe's- whatever that was- leaves my mind. Terror hits me, and I try to choke it down. He's just hiding somewhere and waiting to jump out and just being an idiot like usual. Right?
This time it feels different, though. The fear that hit me back in the Wold when he hid was different, more like my imagination taking action where my consciousness failed. This time, I feel dumbfounded, and empty, because there's no feeling of fun and chase this time.
There's death on the air.
I roam the streets, hoping I don't lose myself, though you never know. I strain my ears, pupils dilated to search the shadows for any sign, anything. If anything, the City is even more quiet that when we came in, once I round a few corners and the sound of the soldiers fades away altogether.
"Coal?" I whisper when I hear a rustling up ahead, around the next bend. No reply, but I'm too scared to cry out. Who knows what kind of horrible mutilated Beasts call this place of dilapidation and death home.
Instead I tip-toe silently as only I can, on the balls of my feet, taking care to step around shards of glass and rock and metal. The thick layer of ash that coats everything also blankets the sound of my footsteps, and my only concern is that I may inhale it and cough loudly.
I breath through my nose as I pad stealthily toward the sound, keeping to the shadows. The closer I get, the more the sounds grow. There's a whole swarm of hushed voices now, low, gruff ones, too serious and intellectual to be soldiers of the Old City. I press my back to the last building, and try to peer around the corner without tumbling over.
The looming figures of the buildings seem to glare hostilely down at me, the silence in every direction but forwards is a menacing presence.
I peek around the corner and gasp.