The Rain (Part III of the Runner Series)

Chapter 29

I Ignore the bright yellow signs warning of Danger and Explosives pasted outside the door and wrap my fingers around the cool metal handle. Twisting the hatch open, I step back so that I remain in it's shadow and wait until silence convinces me that it's safe to look inside. Easing around the entrance, I grope for a switch and watch as one by one, the lights overhead reveal the vault's contents.

Tawny did not disappoint.

Rows upon rows of powder kegs line the walls of the cavern, reaching high over my head and stretching as far as the eye can see. The chamber is so large that it appears to twist away from me, following the dome's curvature. I place a cautious foot forward, then another until I am standing surrounded by the barrels of black powder. Moving toward the nearest shelf, I warily eye the darkened paths of scaffolding overhead before forcing my heartbeat to steady and taking a deep breath.

It's time to get to work.

The first barrel is loosed easily enough. I pull a keg from one of the bottom shelves to the floor, cringing when it lands with a dull thud. Rolling it towards the hatch door I discover that two of Tawny's rebels are already clearing our path of the Brutes' bodies. I leave the barrel at the door and go to grab another, then another.

We work efficiently and one by one, the chamber's contents are swallowed up by the tunnel leading to the Tower's gruesome workshop. I imagine the barrels stacked in piles before the Lab's various entryways, rubbing my arms when my muscles begin to protest. As the shelves steadily deplete their reserves I keep my senses on high alert, stubbornly refusing to fall into any traps.

When sounds of the fight first reach my ears they are still a ways off. I freeze, standing stock-still while straining to decipher the noises.

"What—?" One of the young rebels sticks his head through the hatch door, breaking off his question when he sees me.

The scuffle grows louder, met with shouts that echo distantly off the stone walls.

"You need to run." I say simply. The order is directed at the boy but my eyes dart around the storage facility. Pathways and vantage points reveal themselves to me, the possibilities glowing red.

"I can fight." The boy's brave offer is betrayed by a waver in his voice.

"I know." I let my gaze fall to him. In the dim light he appears as white as a ghost, growing even more pale when the distinct clicking of many metal gears sounds from the darkness. "But there is nothing you can do here, tonight. Save that fight for tomorrow, when you can actually do some good."

"What about you?"

My dagger has found it's way into my hand. I finger the worn hilt, the familiar weight my companion through more battles than I can recall.

"I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be." I hear myself say, the boy already forgotten. "Go."

He disappears, leaving me surrounded by kegs of gunpowder and walls of stone. I vaguely register his retreating footsteps while I stand and wait, ready and able to fly the instant they come for me.

And come, they do.

Brutes spill into the chamber, blank and ruthless and primed for battle. I dance backwards, parrying off the first few monsters before ducking through one of the emptied shelves and inviting them to follow. Armoured shoulders shove their way between the heavy racks and drive towards me, their weapons raised. I kick out, knocking away sword after sword, placing a foot on the back of one mechanical soldier and leaping into the would-be sky.

Grasping the edge of a rack I pull myself up, clambering shelf-by-shelf toward the ceiling. The Brutes' dead, unseeing eyes track me as they fill the ground below, clambering over one another in relentless pursuit. Once I have gained a few feet I brace myself and grit my teeth, shoving one of the barrels free of it's perch and grinning with a grim sense of satisfaction when it smashes into the head of a Brute. The rack beneath me sways dangerously with the weight of too many enemies and I leap across to land on another, barely managing to regain my balance as the first shelf slowly topples over.