Skye City: The Darkness of Emmilyn

Overstay

We climb the interior of the shard which now feels uncomfortably cold to the touch. As we approach halfway, we reach snow which has collected on the slight ledges we use for hand- and foot-holds. The surfaces are becoming slippery and I am unsure whether proceeding is even safe. I repeatedly stop climbing to clear snow and blow into my hands to ensure I can maintain my grip. This is slowing me down significantly and my efforts appear to be in vain. Traces of snow are melting on contact and my feet are losing traction.

'Hey, guys, I'm struggling here. What about you?' I say.

'It's certainly slippery,' Bex says.

'You think we should stop?' I gasp, thinking I could maybe rest with my feet on a ledge.

'And do what? Slide back down?' Sirah says.

'The way we're going, we may end up sliding down anyways,' I say.

'Nah, the slope isn't much steeper than forty-five degrees. We can–'

'Whoa!' My foot slips hard and then my hand loses grip of the ledge. I slide down the shard at an awkward angle, thumping into the next ledge and tumbling. As my body rolls over another ledge, I grab onto it, almost dislocating my shoulder, but I somehow hold tight. I reach my other hand to the ledge, stabilise myself and gasp for breath. The bone in my upper-arm hurts like shit, but the fact I am holding tight means it cannot be broken.

'Are you okay down there?' Bex says.

'Nothing to worry about. I just almost broke my arm!' I say.

'You need to be more careful. Slow steady movements. We're almost there,' Sirah says patronisingly.

Curling my lips, I continue the climb, slow and steady, and I meet the girls at the snow-filled mouth. I had forgotten how high the drop is, but the snow on the rooftop is now so deep, the steel drums are almost concealed and the flames are no longer burning. The huts have become a sequence of shadows and the occupants must be in hibernation with the boys.

We sit with our legs dangling over frosted metal, catching our breath, and my throat stings. The coldness spreads into my lungs, freezing my whole chest as white flakes swirl in the wind. I need my breathing to settle so the pain stops.

BOOM! CRASH! The shard trembles and lurches a few inches in response to an explosion, but somehow none of us tumble down. 'Jump, before it falls!' I say and we leap into the deep snow which provides a gentle landing, but may now prove a hazard.

BOOM! CRASH! My ears are ringing. My bones are shaking. It sounds like buildings are collapsing all around, and this building is vibrating like crazy, meaning it could be next.

'Get as far from the shard as you can!' I yell.

We wade through the snow, desperately trying to sprint, but unable to move faster than a snail's pace. The resistance seems to increase with my effort and my leg muscles are burning intensely. As we near the huts, a creaking becomes unbearably loud, and I glance back to see the shard shift about ten feet. I can hear the cracking, crumbling of masonry as snow slips from the roof-ledge, and I can feel the shockwaves beneath my feet. This place is no longer stable and one more explosion could trigger major collapse.

'Guys, the shard is moving. We need to get to the other side of the rooftop,' Sirah yells and the others nervously emerge from their huts, apart from Kezan. We wade through snow to the far end of the roof which is about seventy yards from the shard. Even this distance does not seem far enough from the instability.

'They must be fighting nearby. Those explosions probably mean tanks or mechs. It sounded like buildings were collapsing. We need to get out of here,' Sirah says.