The Rain (Part III of the Runner Series)

Chapter 22

The steel scaffolding that makes up Babel's sky rattles beneath my feet. I adjust my tread, cursing the unfamiliar boots and the rest of the unwieldy Enforcer uniform. The armour lays awkwardly across my shoulders and chest, throwing me off-balance and adding a noticeable lilt to my approach of the airship hangar.

In sharp contrast, Luca wears the armour as though it weighed nothing. He strides silently ahead of me, navigating the narrow walkways seamlessly.

Remaining a couple steps behind, I scan our surroundings to make sure that the only suspicious activity occurring is our own. This close to curfew, our sole company upon these rickety paths is our fellow guardsmen. The Enforcers are countless but seem to be sticking to their sectors, tracing patterns in the elevated cityscape that Luca memorized long ago.

I tear my eyes from the scene for a moment to study Luca. His posture is as straight and his footsteps as soundless as ever, but there is an undeniable friction between us. We've barely spoken a word all day; a difficult feat when you're confined to an enemy flat. The silence and extended time spent caged between roofs and walls splintered my nerves into fragments and when Geoff finally showed up with an Enforcer uniform roughly my size, I nearly hugged him.

The lift comes into view as we make a sharp right and sidle our way past a pair of courtesans flirting with some guards. The girls' shrill laughter sets my skin to crawling and I flinch involuntarily, quickening my pace in an effort to distance myself from the memory. Arriving at the entrance to the lift a few moments later, we join the throng lining up before the great glass tube. Luca stands a few feet off, his gaze carefully averted from mine as he stares up at the illuminated chamber gradually making it's way towards us. When the light overtop the gate blinks to life we board with the dozen or so other guards, jostling for position in the cramped capsule. The last person to enter makes to slam the gate closed when he's halted by a sharp whistle. More shuffling and I have to bite down a grunt of pain as someone trods on my foot. Two Brutes are ushered inside, their steel-plated implements and deathlike stares at once filling what little space remains.

As the floor rumbles and sways, I continually steal sideways glances at the pair. The Brutes appear much the same as they always have: unfeeling, hollowed-out shells with uncannily familiar features. Despite Geoff's horrifying recollection of what they are and are most decidedly not, I can't keep from searching their unseeing faces for some humanity, some inkling of a soul.

The light above us blinks again and the lift shudders to a stop. There is a mass exodus and we are left behind with only the Brutes and their keeper. I catch the lone Enforcer eyeing us with some curiosity so I lead Luca past him, lagging a beat behind the rest of the group We turn purposefully but blindly to the side, not sparing a glance back as the gate closes and the lift continues it's journey.

Luca catches up with me once the Brutes and Enforcers have sufficiently dispersed. Reclining back against the guardrail he directs his question to me but not his eyes.

"You wish to continue on foot?" He indicates the shaky flight of stairs further along the catwalk.

"I'm not sure yet." I chew on my lip thoughtfully, watching the shadows overhead. The ominous scrape of boot against metal indicates more Brutes up above. We listen for a spell, simultaneously counting and gauging our odds.

"Were the airships always this heavily shielded?" Luca asks, speaking low.

I shake my head. "No. When I was last here these paths were all but deserted."

"Perhaps your visit changed that practice."

"Perhaps." I say doubtfully. I lean out over the rail, craning my neck. The dome's steep pitch and scant amounts of sunlight effectively hide the hangar's entrance, but I am nonetheless granted a view that raises the hair on my skin. The remaining levels are patrolled by layers upon layers of Brutes.