Thanks (Shade's Children fanfiction) Part 1: Chapters 1-4
Ella isn't sure what to think of Drum when she first meets him, but through trouble and grief they are there for each other. The events that led to their deep understanding and friendship.
Warning: PG-13 violence, character death
Part 2
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The first thing she noticed was his size. Of course, it was kind of hard to miss.
"You're here. Good," said Shade's hologram where it sat behind its desk. Ella nodded without looking at him. She couldn't take her eyes off the man who stood to the side of the desk, softly illuminated by the hologram's glow.
The shadows obscured his face, and for a moment Ella thought the gargantuan body must have belonged to an adult, maybe a military man. The idea of a hidden army, ready and equipped to fight the Overlords, flashed into her mind. But it was gone just as quickly when the man leaned forward enough that the light caught his face, and Ella saw that he was just a boy no older than herself. It didn't take her long to put together what he was. She knew about what went on in the Training Grounds.
"New recruit, Shade?" said Ella, back to her businesslike self.
"Yes," said Shade, "I would like you to meet Drum. Drum, this is Ella, the young woman I told you about."
Drum inclined his head almost imperceptibly toward Ella, but never opened his mouth to speak.
"Ella," Shade resumed, "You've been with us for some time now, and your work has been consistently excellent. Brat says that you're the best tactician he's ever had on his team, and I've seen your improvement with your swordplay and your Talent firsthand. I think it's time I gave you your own team."
Ella stared for a moment, then narrowed her eyes. "You're taking me off Brat's team?" she demanded.
Shade's expression made it clear that he would brook no arguments. "We need sensible team leaders like you, especially after our string of losses in the last month," he said, "And now that we have a escapee from the Training Grounds…" He gestured to Drum, who remained silent. Ella hoped the boy was just nervous, and not dimwitted. "I can't just put him on anyone's team. He's too much of an asset. But I'm sure you'll be able to use him to his full potential."
Ella wanted to say that she had only just started feeling at home with her friends on Brat's team, that she hadn't been so happy since before the Change, and that she felt like Shade was taking all that away from her and starting her back at square one. But she held her tongue. She was painfully aware of what she owed to Shade. If he hadn't taken her in she would still be on the streets, barely scraping by day to day. He was the reason that they were organized, well-fed, and armed. The children on the Sub owed Shade everything, and though some refused to admit it, Ella knew. She couldn't refuse her savior.
"I'm sure I will," she said.
Minutes later, Ella found herself back in the corridor with the silent giant beside her. Shade had given them a simple mission to start with, to ease them into the transition. They were to raid a grocery store to stock the Sub's galley. Ella had been on similar missions with Brat, and she knew that if they left immediately they could be back before sunset brought the Ferrets out of their holes. "Follow me," she said to Drum, and marched toward the main hatch.
Halfway there, a figure leaped lightly out of a side hall and landed next to Ella, quickly falling into step with her. It was a gangly boy with a mischievous grin. "So, he's taken you away from us," he said, "It was only a matter of time. You were too good for me anyway."
Ella smiled, an expression that would become increasingly rare in the following years. "Don't say that, Brat," she said, "We'll still see each other around the Sub. It's even better this way, since we're both team leaders. I'm your equal now."
Brat put a hand over his heart dramatically and shook his head. "Oh, my sweet Ella," he said, "We were never equals. You're a saint, and I… well, I live up to my name! So where are you going with this big lug? No offense." He directed the last words at Drum, who indeed looked completely unoffended.
"That's Drum," said Ella, "He's my new team. We're going to raid the corner store over Ten West."
Brat gave Drum an appraising, but not unfriendly, stare. "Doesn't talk much, does he?" he observed before responding to Ella, "Oh, sure, I know the one. Been there a few times myself. I thought it was almost tapped out, but you might still find some good stuff. Ah, food runs are the best kind of mission. You get to take whatever you want off the top before handing it over to the galley."
"That's not allowed," said Ella, knowing what Brat's response would be.
"And when has that ever stopped me?" said Brat, grinning, "Well, I'd better be going. I have a mission of my own, and now that you're on the fast track it's down to just me and Corbie. It's a shame to lose you." Ella thought she detected a rare note of gravity in Brat's voice at that last statement.
"Good luck," she said as Brat peeled away from her and Drum, "Don't get killed."
"Never!" shouted Brat over his shoulder.
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"Do you speak at all?" Ella asked, exasperated. She had led Drum to the exit hatch, tried and failed to find a set of coveralls to fit him, and showed him the way out the hatch and into the mouth of the Main Drain, but through it all he had remained completely silent. She was beginning to worry that he was truly stupid.
"Yes," said Drum, "I'm sorry. This is all very new to me." Ella was surprised at the high register of his voice, and at the thoughtfulness and intelligence behind it. She immediately softened towards him, but she still wasn't sure if he would be any more useful than a blunt weapon. His strength made him an asset, but if he was too timid or slow to use it properly he would be useless to her.
"Fine," she said, "You'll have more time to get used to the Sub when we return. As for the drains, they're easy enough." She explained the drain system as they walked, and aside from the occasional question Drum remained quiet. They passed through the Main Junction and continued down the Ten West drain.
"So what's your Talent?" Ella asked after a particularly long stretch of uncomfortable silence. She figured it made sense for her to know what her teammate's abilities were before they ran into trouble.
"I move things," Drum said. Ella waited, but Drum failed to elaborate.
"Seems redundant," she said finally, "You look like you could move anything you wanted anyway with muscles like those."
Drum shook his head. "I mean I can move things without touching them," he said, "I just think them someplace else. It's how I got rid of my tracer." Ella nodded her understanding. She knew there was a word for that, but she couldn't think of what it was.
She expected Drum to ask her how she got out of the Dorms next. It was a common topic of conversation for escapees. But though she saw his eyes flick to the raised and discolored scar on her wrist, he said nothing. "You want to know how I got it out?" she asked. She was tired of telling the story, but at least it would be something to talk about.
"It doesn't really matter," said Drum, "When you get right down to it, there are only two ways to do it: the easy way, and the hard way." He indicated her wrist, where she had cut herself open and popped the lump of metal from where it had been wedged between her wrist bones. "And I can tell you did it the hard way."
They had reached their manhole, so Ella cut the conversation short to climb up to the street and look around. The sun was beginning to go down. They would have to hurry if they wanted to be back in the drains before the Ferrets came out.
"All clear," she said, and pushed the manhole cover to the side. She clambered nimbly onto the street. Drum followed more slowly, the ladder creaking under his weight.
When they entered the little store, Ella could see that Brat had been right. The closest stores to the Sub had long since been emptied, and ones like this, that were only a little farther away, were beginning to get picked over. Soon teams would have to venture farther and farther from the Sub to collect food, assuming the Overlords didn't discover their little base before it came to that.
Squinting in the dim light, Ella could see that there were still things worth taking. She unslung the empty backpack she had brought and began filling it with candy and cans of vegetables. Anything that had survived the fifteen-year span without rotting to nothing, the kids on the Sub would eat. None of Shade's children were picky. They had all been on the streets at one time or another, and they knew what it was like to starve.
Drum found some cans of fruit in a storage room, and he disappeared to fill his own backpack. Ella cleaned out the front of the store. When her backpack was almost full, she noticed something on a shelf near the ceiling. The other teams that had been through the store had obviously missed it, but Ella recognized the treasure right away: a case of batteries. Power was always a concern on the Sub. The grid was sporadic at best, so batteries and gasoline for the generators were priceless.
Ella began climbing. If the box had been on a set of standing shelves, she would have just tipped them over, but it was on a shelf bolted directly to the wall. By standing on the front counter, she could almost reach it. She grasped at air while grunting, frustrated.
Suddenly, she became aware of a figure below her. Drum was crouching under the shelf, cupping his hands near the ground like a step. She hadn't even heard him approach. Ella climbed down from the counter and put one foot in Drum's hands, and then he stood, effortlessly lifting her up along with him. She steadied herself against the shelf, which was now just at the height of her eyes, and grabbed the box of batteries. Drum lowered her back to the ground.
"Thanks," said Ella as she stuffed the box into her backpack. Drum returned to the storage room to clean out the last of the canned food, then rejoined her at the store front. "Not bad," said Ella, indicating their bulging packs. Hers was heavy on her slender back, but Drum's dangled ridiculously over one massive arm. It was too small to be worn normally. "We're going to have to find you some custom gear," Ella observed as they returned to the manhole.
It was lucky that there was so little light coming through the manhole covers, because Ella was able to see the faint glow of Myrmidon witchlights as they neared the Main Junction.
"Damn," she said, "They sometimes stake out this area, since they know we use the drains. I thought last night's rain would have kept them away for at least a while longer. We'll have to take a detour." She turned down a side tunnel, and immediately the reassuring rush of water around her calves became a trickle that barely reached the tops of her shoes. The tunnel was dry.
Drum scooted around Ella to stand in front. "I'll lead," he said. He didn't mention that Ferrets might be sleeping up ahead, or that he had more blood to lose if he happened to get attacked, or that his body would be big enough to block most of the drain if he fell, giving Ella a chance to escape.
He said nothing, but all these things raced through Ella's mind before she said, "Fine. Do you know the way?"
Drum nodded. "It's a grid. We'll take the next side tunnel to try to get back to a wetter drain that runs west, then link back up with the Main Drain after the Junction." Ella hid her surprise. She had thought that Drum hadn't been listening when she gave him her lecture about the layout of the drains. She made a mental note that his silence didn't mean he wasn't paying attention.
Despite Ella's fears, the drains were empty of Creatures, and they were soon back in the Main Drain with water up to their knees. Ella felt giddy with relief and pride as she and Drum crawled back through the torpedo tube into the safety of the sub's innards. She quickly changed into a dry robe, only to turn around and see Drum still in his filthy, soaking street clothes. She would have to remind Shade to get the poor boy some coveralls and a robe in his size.
"Leave the packs here," she said, "Shade will send someone to pick them up. We have to go make our report before we're done." In a moment of caprice, she opened her backpack a bit and snatched a chocolate bar out of it before making her way to see Shade.
As they approached the hatch to the briefing room, Ella could tell something was wrong. A hysterical voice, alternating between crying and shouting, could be heard even through the thick steel wall. Ella would have waited outside for Shade to handle the problem if she hadn't recognized the voice within. It belonged to Corbie, her former teammate.
Forgetting procedure, she barged into the room in time to hear Corbie shouting at Shade's stoic hologram, "…even if we had completed it! It was a pointless mission and you still rated it higher than our lives! This is your fault, you bastard! You don't even care, do you? Look at you sitting there, putting on airs, while it's us who are fighting and dying…"
Corbie noticed Ella. His young face, when he turned it towards her, was almost unrecognizable under layers of rage and sorrow.
"Ella! Ella," he sobbed, "They took him. Brat's gone."
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For days, Ella did nothing. Instead of crying or storming or waking up in the night in cold sweats, she found herself shutting down, growing numb. She slept most of the time, and when she couldn't sleep she found that she had no motivation to do anything else. So when she didn't have specific duties from Shade, she sat in her quarters or hid out in the vid rooms.
She had rediscovered the vid rooms the day after Brat's loss. They had fascinated her when she first came to the Sub, and she had spent her first few months ravenously watching not only instructional videos but also Shade's interviews with the children. Now she revisited those archives to look for Brat's entrance interview, thinking that seeing his face would help snap her out of her emotional fugue. It didn't, but the vid rooms were as good a place as any to hide oneself away, so she stayed and kept watching. Face after unfamiliar face paraded across the screen. There were thousands of interviews, more than she could ever hope to watch. It was all that was left of those child-soldiers, and now it was all that was left of Brat. Soon, she would join their ranks as a virtual ghost, remembered only by the computer and by Shade.
It seemed that whenever she ventured out, people wanted to give their condolences or ask how she was feeling, as if she were a bereaved widow. It was true that Brat had been more than a friend to her, but she didn't want special treatment from anyone, and the endless questions exhausted her. So she slept, and hid.
She was in the vid rooms five days later when someone knocked on the door. It took Ella a few seconds to register that the sound was meant for her. She wasn't used to being interrupted while hooked up to the archives. She opened the door to find Drum in the hallway.
"Shade wants us," he said. He was wearing new clothes and shoes, and looked a good deal healthier than he had when he first arrived. Ella realized that she had mostly forgotten about him while she had been withdrawn from the world, and a pang of guilt cracked her emotionless shell.
"Why didn't he call me over the intercom?" she asked, surprised at how gravelly her voice was after days of disuse.
"He did," said Drum, his voice somehow conveying his worry without a hint of pity, "Three times."
Sheepishly, she followed him to the briefing room. On the way, he said awkwardly, "I'm sorry about your friend."
He was about to say more, but Ella cut him off with a short, "Don't start. I've had enough of that." They walked the rest of the way in silence.
Shade's hologram greeted them as they entered the briefing room, "Thank you Drum. Ella, when I call you I expect you to respond in a timely manner." His annoyance with her was strangely comforting. At least he wasn't coddling her.
"I have a new assignment for you," Shade continued, "A rather important one, in fact. I'm starting to research a new technology that may well turn the tide of this war. I don't want to make it public knowledge yet, in case the initial tests don't work the way I hope, so I'm afraid I can't tell you exactly what it is. I simply want you to bring me the items on this list." He indicated a piece of paper on his desk.
Drum picked up the paper, glanced at it, and handed it to Ella. She didn't give it more than a glance either. The items were generic enough that nothing could be inferred about the nature of the project, and none were so hard to get that they warranted special mention. She put the list in her pocket.
"Do you want us to leave immediately?" Ella asked.
"Yes," said Shade, "At the next low tide. Anything else?"
"No sir."
"Good. Drum, you are dismissed. Ella, would you allow me to speak with you for a moment longer? Not regarding the mission."
Ella knew this had been coming. "Yes sir," she said. Drum left without a word, and she was left standing in front of the desk alone.
"Ella," said Shade, "I can't help but notice that your behavior over the last few days has been uncharacteristically antisocial. I understand your need to grieve for Brat in your own way, but - and I hope you don't think I'm being insensitive - I need to know that it won't affect your performance in the field." He raised his eyebrows expectantly, and his icy blue eyes sought hers. Dozens of winking red eyes around the darker corners of the room seemed to do the same.
When she met his gaze, her eyes were as cold and steady as his own. It was insensitive of him to ask, yes, and it was also necessary. Tact and manners had no place in this world. It didn't matter what she felt, or how far into apathy and depression she spiraled. The only thing that mattered was the mission, and her ability to complete it. She would fight for as long as she was able, and when she was no longer able she would die. It was as simple and brutal as that. No one could offer her anything better.
She left behind her delusions of home and friendship. Emotional attachments were weaknesses; Brat had taught her that. And she resolved to stop hiding from the world, as if her loss gave her leave to pretend that the war didn't still rage. Everyone had lost someone. Brat was no different from the thousands whose videos now languished in the archives.
For their sakes, she would defeat the Overlords. And as long as Shade shared her mission, she would follow his orders without question or hesitation. Finally understanding what it meant to live in this world after the Change, she gave up being a girl and became a weapon: reliable, functional, and deadly.
"No sir," was all she said, but her steely eyes told the rest of the story. Shade was the first to look away.
"Good," he said, "Dismissed."
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When Ella stepped outside and saw the sun on the horizon, for a moment she couldn't remember if it was sunrise or sunset. She had spent so much time in the vid rooms that she had lost track of the days. After a moment of thought she decided that it must be sunrise. Not the best time for a mission, since Wingers would be out during the day, but Shade had told her to leave at the next low tide.
"Three kinds of wire, tool sets, cell phone batteries…" Ella read off the list as she and Drum climbed into the mouth of the Main Drain, "We can get most of this from the hardware store, and the rest from the electronics store at the mall." She didn't mention that no one liked going to the mall, since it was a known Ferret nest. But the only other electronics store was across town, out of reasonable walking range, so they had no choice anyway.
"Which way?" said Drum, and Ella was almost startled that he hadn't simply nodded and fallen in behind her. Maybe he would become more talkative now that he was more comfortable in his new home.
"The hardware store is over Eight West, so not too far," she replied, "The mall is a little farther, but we should be able to get to both and back to the Sub before noon." She hoped she was right.
The hardware store was uneventful. They loaded up a backpack with various supplies from the list. Some were very specific, and it took them a while to find everything. Finally Ella had managed to open the computer inventory system and locate the remaining items electronically. All together, the items fit in one backpack but were quite heavy. Drum picked up the backpack without a word. Ella noticed that the straps had been specially elongated to fit over his massive shoulders.
"Thanks," she said as she picked up the empty pack. She would fill it when they got to the mall.
Another problem with the mall was that blockages in the drains had kept the routes closest to it dry for years, extending the Ferret nest underground. The closest safe manhole was several hundred yards away from the entrance, across a small park. Ella explained this to Drum as they sat in the drains sharing a can of string beans for lunch.
"Wingers?" he said in his strange voice.
"Exactly," said Ella through a mouthful of beans, "There's nowhere to hide so our best bet is to run for it. If we get inside the building, the Wingers will give up the chase. But if we're lucky, we'll never even be seen." She passed the beans back to Drum, who finished the can in one gulp. "Ready?" she asked. Drum tossed the empty can aside and nodded.
Ella tilted the manhole cover open and scanned the sliver of sky it revealed. It was clear, and it remained clear even when she shoved the cover completely aside. She waited for Drum to struggle through the hole, the backpack adding to his already sizable girth, and then began jogging toward the mall entrance.
Involuntarily, Ella's mind wandered. It had been in a park like this one that Brat had found her, a malnourished street kid desperately trying to choke down grass rather than risk going back into the city, where the Myrmidons patrolled. Ella had always been deathly afraid of Myrmidons, even more so than of the other Creatures. Brat had feared nothing, not even the Meat Factory. As he had said, "Whether your body's lying in the street or cut up and sewn into a Creature, dead is dead. The trick is to stay alive."
She didn't see the shadows that flitted beside them in the grass, though she should have. "Ella," said Drum softly. Ella snapped herself out of her reverie and looked behind them to see the Flight of Wingers that was following them. She wondered if Drum had been able to tell that she wasn't paying attention.
"Run for it," she said, and turned her jog into a sprint. Drum followed suit, and the lead Winger, seeing its prey escaping, dove.
They could both tell that they wouldn't make it to the relative safety of the mall before the Winger hit, so they turned as one to hold their ground. Drum drew his sword and cocked it over his shoulder like a batter watching a pitch fly towards the plate. Ella was impressed; most kids had to be taught to stand and fight after a lifetime of running away, but Drum didn't shy away from battle. But the Winger was picking up speed, and Ella could tell that even if Drum managed to hit it, the impact would almost certainly wound or kill him. She had to find a way to slow the Winger down.
It was hard to concentrate with a Winger bearing down on her, but Ella had had plenty of practice. She forced herself to close her eyes and focus on nothing but the image of a pane of glass backed by silver, its edges ground smooth so they wouldn't cut. Something flat, round, and cool that had not been there before was suddenly in her hand.
Ella held up the mirror in the split second before the Winger struck, reflecting the sun into its eyes. Temporarily blinded, it tried to pull out of its dive and retreat back to the sky. It managed to not crash into the ground, but the bottom of its arc brought it into Drum's striking range. He quickly shifted from a horizontal swing to an overhead slash, and there was a crunching sound and a spray of ichor as his sword connected with the Winger's shoulder.
The Creature flopped to the ground, its wing shattered. Ella and Drum left it behind in a screaming heap and sprinted the last yards to the mall. The rest of the Flight, intimidated by the defeat of their leader, gave them wide berth as they wrenched open the doors and disappeared into the dark.
The mall was a multi-tiered complex, and the top floors were covered in windows and flooded with light. But there was also a basement complex, where no sunlight reached and where the electric lights that had once lit it lay smashed on the floor. In this impenetrable darkness, the Ferrets had taken up residence. In the early days of the Change, they must have favored it as a hunting ground, feeding on Dorm escapees who remembered the mall as safe and familiar, and sought refuge there. Now no one ventured into that dark pit, but the Ferrets remained, sleeping away the day and moving as one fleshy mass.
The electronics store was in the basement, so that was where Ella and Drum ventured now. As soon as the door closed behind them, they were thrust into complete and utter darkness. Ella groped to her right and found the wall, then reached out to her left and felt Drum beside her. Her left hand still held the mirror, and when Drum took her hand he felt it and took it, studying it blindly.
"Is it a mirror?" he guessed, turning it over in his hands, "Where did you get it?"
"I made it," said Ella, "Just then. That's my Talent." She expected Drum to ask why she didn't create food, or explosives, or an airplane so all the kids could escape the city and live in the farmlands or the mountains. She always had to explain that she needed to know an object inside and out before she could actualize it, and that bigger and more complex objects could be difficult or impossible to create. But Drum seemed to assume that Ella knew best, and appreciated the small miracle she had worked without asking for more.
"Flashlights," Ella ordered after a moment of silence. The flashlights provided by Shade worked, but they weren't very bright and the batteries didn't last long. Shade insisted that they used to have better ones, but they were lost one by one on various missions, and each time they were replaced by inferior models. The twin pools of light emitted by Ella's and Drum's lights illuminated a short stairway in front of them and two broken and peeling store fronts in a long hallway. A short way down the hall was a map. Though it was almost completely grown over with mildew, Ella worked out the general layout of the complex.
"This way," she said, and set off into the darkness. She shined her weak light back and forth, scanning inside stores and even on the ceiling. They had seen no Ferrets yet, but she was sure one would spring on her suddenly from the direction she least expected. The darkness was making her edgy, and while once she might have trusted Brat and Corbie to watch her back, now she felt she had to scan every corner herself.
Drum was proving himself to be a good partner, but Ella resisted the urge to trust him as she had Brat. That kind of trust was dangerous. After all, even Brat hadn't been vigilant enough to prevent his own demise. How could she trust anyone to prevent her own? It was difficult and lonely, but she would have to rely only on herself.
She heard the Ferrets before she saw them.
Dozens of bodies breathing together, their pants and sighs echoing in the empty corridors, created a whispery music as Ella and Drum approached. Finally, the edge of Ella's light caught a padded foot, and the nest came into view.
Her first instinct was to count them into groups of five, to see how many Fangs she was dealing with. But Ella soon saw that there would be no counting these Ferrets; they were draped and knotted in a heap so thick that it was difficult to tell one body from the other. And it was huge, blocking the entire hall. Even though Ella could see the window of the electronics store from where she stood, it was impossible to get to it.
"Can you move the things we need over to us?" Ella whispered, "Without waking the Ferrets?"
Drum studied the distant store front and even raised his hand experimentally, seeming to grope for something in the air. But then he shook his head. "I have to be able to see what I'm moving," he said, "Or at least know where it is. I can't see anything from here."
Ella shined her light as far as she could. The store front was completely plugged with Ferrets. Even if they managed to find another way around, they would never be able to get inside. "Looks like we're going across town," she sighed, "Come on. If we get out of here now we'll get back to the Sub before dark, at least." She turned to go back to the staircase and the door, hoping that the Wingers would still be keeping their distance.
And she stopped. Something was moving in the darkness. As she watched, a roiling wave of fur and claws rolled out of a side hallway and across her path. She leaped back, crashing into Drum and sending them both to the floor. Their flashlights rolled away, and in their flickering light Ella caught an impression of the blob that had almost engulfed them: a mass of Ferrets, all half-asleep, each jostling for position in a claustrophobic ball. Their individual movements caused the heap to move as one creature, moving through the halls like an amoeba. Before Ella could react, they had already blocked the hallway and, just as quickly, fallen still.
They were trapped.
Warning: PG-13 violence, character death
Part 2
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The first thing she noticed was his size. Of course, it was kind of hard to miss.
"You're here. Good," said Shade's hologram where it sat behind its desk. Ella nodded without looking at him. She couldn't take her eyes off the man who stood to the side of the desk, softly illuminated by the hologram's glow.
The shadows obscured his face, and for a moment Ella thought the gargantuan body must have belonged to an adult, maybe a military man. The idea of a hidden army, ready and equipped to fight the Overlords, flashed into her mind. But it was gone just as quickly when the man leaned forward enough that the light caught his face, and Ella saw that he was just a boy no older than herself. It didn't take her long to put together what he was. She knew about what went on in the Training Grounds.
"New recruit, Shade?" said Ella, back to her businesslike self.
"Yes," said Shade, "I would like you to meet Drum. Drum, this is Ella, the young woman I told you about."
Drum inclined his head almost imperceptibly toward Ella, but never opened his mouth to speak.
"Ella," Shade resumed, "You've been with us for some time now, and your work has been consistently excellent. Brat says that you're the best tactician he's ever had on his team, and I've seen your improvement with your swordplay and your Talent firsthand. I think it's time I gave you your own team."
Ella stared for a moment, then narrowed her eyes. "You're taking me off Brat's team?" she demanded.
Shade's expression made it clear that he would brook no arguments. "We need sensible team leaders like you, especially after our string of losses in the last month," he said, "And now that we have a escapee from the Training Grounds…" He gestured to Drum, who remained silent. Ella hoped the boy was just nervous, and not dimwitted. "I can't just put him on anyone's team. He's too much of an asset. But I'm sure you'll be able to use him to his full potential."
Ella wanted to say that she had only just started feeling at home with her friends on Brat's team, that she hadn't been so happy since before the Change, and that she felt like Shade was taking all that away from her and starting her back at square one. But she held her tongue. She was painfully aware of what she owed to Shade. If he hadn't taken her in she would still be on the streets, barely scraping by day to day. He was the reason that they were organized, well-fed, and armed. The children on the Sub owed Shade everything, and though some refused to admit it, Ella knew. She couldn't refuse her savior.
"I'm sure I will," she said.
Minutes later, Ella found herself back in the corridor with the silent giant beside her. Shade had given them a simple mission to start with, to ease them into the transition. They were to raid a grocery store to stock the Sub's galley. Ella had been on similar missions with Brat, and she knew that if they left immediately they could be back before sunset brought the Ferrets out of their holes. "Follow me," she said to Drum, and marched toward the main hatch.
Halfway there, a figure leaped lightly out of a side hall and landed next to Ella, quickly falling into step with her. It was a gangly boy with a mischievous grin. "So, he's taken you away from us," he said, "It was only a matter of time. You were too good for me anyway."
Ella smiled, an expression that would become increasingly rare in the following years. "Don't say that, Brat," she said, "We'll still see each other around the Sub. It's even better this way, since we're both team leaders. I'm your equal now."
Brat put a hand over his heart dramatically and shook his head. "Oh, my sweet Ella," he said, "We were never equals. You're a saint, and I… well, I live up to my name! So where are you going with this big lug? No offense." He directed the last words at Drum, who indeed looked completely unoffended.
"That's Drum," said Ella, "He's my new team. We're going to raid the corner store over Ten West."
Brat gave Drum an appraising, but not unfriendly, stare. "Doesn't talk much, does he?" he observed before responding to Ella, "Oh, sure, I know the one. Been there a few times myself. I thought it was almost tapped out, but you might still find some good stuff. Ah, food runs are the best kind of mission. You get to take whatever you want off the top before handing it over to the galley."
"That's not allowed," said Ella, knowing what Brat's response would be.
"And when has that ever stopped me?" said Brat, grinning, "Well, I'd better be going. I have a mission of my own, and now that you're on the fast track it's down to just me and Corbie. It's a shame to lose you." Ella thought she detected a rare note of gravity in Brat's voice at that last statement.
"Good luck," she said as Brat peeled away from her and Drum, "Don't get killed."
"Never!" shouted Brat over his shoulder.
----------
"Do you speak at all?" Ella asked, exasperated. She had led Drum to the exit hatch, tried and failed to find a set of coveralls to fit him, and showed him the way out the hatch and into the mouth of the Main Drain, but through it all he had remained completely silent. She was beginning to worry that he was truly stupid.
"Yes," said Drum, "I'm sorry. This is all very new to me." Ella was surprised at the high register of his voice, and at the thoughtfulness and intelligence behind it. She immediately softened towards him, but she still wasn't sure if he would be any more useful than a blunt weapon. His strength made him an asset, but if he was too timid or slow to use it properly he would be useless to her.
"Fine," she said, "You'll have more time to get used to the Sub when we return. As for the drains, they're easy enough." She explained the drain system as they walked, and aside from the occasional question Drum remained quiet. They passed through the Main Junction and continued down the Ten West drain.
"So what's your Talent?" Ella asked after a particularly long stretch of uncomfortable silence. She figured it made sense for her to know what her teammate's abilities were before they ran into trouble.
"I move things," Drum said. Ella waited, but Drum failed to elaborate.
"Seems redundant," she said finally, "You look like you could move anything you wanted anyway with muscles like those."
Drum shook his head. "I mean I can move things without touching them," he said, "I just think them someplace else. It's how I got rid of my tracer." Ella nodded her understanding. She knew there was a word for that, but she couldn't think of what it was.
She expected Drum to ask her how she got out of the Dorms next. It was a common topic of conversation for escapees. But though she saw his eyes flick to the raised and discolored scar on her wrist, he said nothing. "You want to know how I got it out?" she asked. She was tired of telling the story, but at least it would be something to talk about.
"It doesn't really matter," said Drum, "When you get right down to it, there are only two ways to do it: the easy way, and the hard way." He indicated her wrist, where she had cut herself open and popped the lump of metal from where it had been wedged between her wrist bones. "And I can tell you did it the hard way."
They had reached their manhole, so Ella cut the conversation short to climb up to the street and look around. The sun was beginning to go down. They would have to hurry if they wanted to be back in the drains before the Ferrets came out.
"All clear," she said, and pushed the manhole cover to the side. She clambered nimbly onto the street. Drum followed more slowly, the ladder creaking under his weight.
When they entered the little store, Ella could see that Brat had been right. The closest stores to the Sub had long since been emptied, and ones like this, that were only a little farther away, were beginning to get picked over. Soon teams would have to venture farther and farther from the Sub to collect food, assuming the Overlords didn't discover their little base before it came to that.
Squinting in the dim light, Ella could see that there were still things worth taking. She unslung the empty backpack she had brought and began filling it with candy and cans of vegetables. Anything that had survived the fifteen-year span without rotting to nothing, the kids on the Sub would eat. None of Shade's children were picky. They had all been on the streets at one time or another, and they knew what it was like to starve.
Drum found some cans of fruit in a storage room, and he disappeared to fill his own backpack. Ella cleaned out the front of the store. When her backpack was almost full, she noticed something on a shelf near the ceiling. The other teams that had been through the store had obviously missed it, but Ella recognized the treasure right away: a case of batteries. Power was always a concern on the Sub. The grid was sporadic at best, so batteries and gasoline for the generators were priceless.
Ella began climbing. If the box had been on a set of standing shelves, she would have just tipped them over, but it was on a shelf bolted directly to the wall. By standing on the front counter, she could almost reach it. She grasped at air while grunting, frustrated.
Suddenly, she became aware of a figure below her. Drum was crouching under the shelf, cupping his hands near the ground like a step. She hadn't even heard him approach. Ella climbed down from the counter and put one foot in Drum's hands, and then he stood, effortlessly lifting her up along with him. She steadied herself against the shelf, which was now just at the height of her eyes, and grabbed the box of batteries. Drum lowered her back to the ground.
"Thanks," said Ella as she stuffed the box into her backpack. Drum returned to the storage room to clean out the last of the canned food, then rejoined her at the store front. "Not bad," said Ella, indicating their bulging packs. Hers was heavy on her slender back, but Drum's dangled ridiculously over one massive arm. It was too small to be worn normally. "We're going to have to find you some custom gear," Ella observed as they returned to the manhole.
It was lucky that there was so little light coming through the manhole covers, because Ella was able to see the faint glow of Myrmidon witchlights as they neared the Main Junction.
"Damn," she said, "They sometimes stake out this area, since they know we use the drains. I thought last night's rain would have kept them away for at least a while longer. We'll have to take a detour." She turned down a side tunnel, and immediately the reassuring rush of water around her calves became a trickle that barely reached the tops of her shoes. The tunnel was dry.
Drum scooted around Ella to stand in front. "I'll lead," he said. He didn't mention that Ferrets might be sleeping up ahead, or that he had more blood to lose if he happened to get attacked, or that his body would be big enough to block most of the drain if he fell, giving Ella a chance to escape.
He said nothing, but all these things raced through Ella's mind before she said, "Fine. Do you know the way?"
Drum nodded. "It's a grid. We'll take the next side tunnel to try to get back to a wetter drain that runs west, then link back up with the Main Drain after the Junction." Ella hid her surprise. She had thought that Drum hadn't been listening when she gave him her lecture about the layout of the drains. She made a mental note that his silence didn't mean he wasn't paying attention.
Despite Ella's fears, the drains were empty of Creatures, and they were soon back in the Main Drain with water up to their knees. Ella felt giddy with relief and pride as she and Drum crawled back through the torpedo tube into the safety of the sub's innards. She quickly changed into a dry robe, only to turn around and see Drum still in his filthy, soaking street clothes. She would have to remind Shade to get the poor boy some coveralls and a robe in his size.
"Leave the packs here," she said, "Shade will send someone to pick them up. We have to go make our report before we're done." In a moment of caprice, she opened her backpack a bit and snatched a chocolate bar out of it before making her way to see Shade.
As they approached the hatch to the briefing room, Ella could tell something was wrong. A hysterical voice, alternating between crying and shouting, could be heard even through the thick steel wall. Ella would have waited outside for Shade to handle the problem if she hadn't recognized the voice within. It belonged to Corbie, her former teammate.
Forgetting procedure, she barged into the room in time to hear Corbie shouting at Shade's stoic hologram, "…even if we had completed it! It was a pointless mission and you still rated it higher than our lives! This is your fault, you bastard! You don't even care, do you? Look at you sitting there, putting on airs, while it's us who are fighting and dying…"
Corbie noticed Ella. His young face, when he turned it towards her, was almost unrecognizable under layers of rage and sorrow.
"Ella! Ella," he sobbed, "They took him. Brat's gone."
----------
For days, Ella did nothing. Instead of crying or storming or waking up in the night in cold sweats, she found herself shutting down, growing numb. She slept most of the time, and when she couldn't sleep she found that she had no motivation to do anything else. So when she didn't have specific duties from Shade, she sat in her quarters or hid out in the vid rooms.
She had rediscovered the vid rooms the day after Brat's loss. They had fascinated her when she first came to the Sub, and she had spent her first few months ravenously watching not only instructional videos but also Shade's interviews with the children. Now she revisited those archives to look for Brat's entrance interview, thinking that seeing his face would help snap her out of her emotional fugue. It didn't, but the vid rooms were as good a place as any to hide oneself away, so she stayed and kept watching. Face after unfamiliar face paraded across the screen. There were thousands of interviews, more than she could ever hope to watch. It was all that was left of those child-soldiers, and now it was all that was left of Brat. Soon, she would join their ranks as a virtual ghost, remembered only by the computer and by Shade.
It seemed that whenever she ventured out, people wanted to give their condolences or ask how she was feeling, as if she were a bereaved widow. It was true that Brat had been more than a friend to her, but she didn't want special treatment from anyone, and the endless questions exhausted her. So she slept, and hid.
She was in the vid rooms five days later when someone knocked on the door. It took Ella a few seconds to register that the sound was meant for her. She wasn't used to being interrupted while hooked up to the archives. She opened the door to find Drum in the hallway.
"Shade wants us," he said. He was wearing new clothes and shoes, and looked a good deal healthier than he had when he first arrived. Ella realized that she had mostly forgotten about him while she had been withdrawn from the world, and a pang of guilt cracked her emotionless shell.
"Why didn't he call me over the intercom?" she asked, surprised at how gravelly her voice was after days of disuse.
"He did," said Drum, his voice somehow conveying his worry without a hint of pity, "Three times."
Sheepishly, she followed him to the briefing room. On the way, he said awkwardly, "I'm sorry about your friend."
He was about to say more, but Ella cut him off with a short, "Don't start. I've had enough of that." They walked the rest of the way in silence.
Shade's hologram greeted them as they entered the briefing room, "Thank you Drum. Ella, when I call you I expect you to respond in a timely manner." His annoyance with her was strangely comforting. At least he wasn't coddling her.
"I have a new assignment for you," Shade continued, "A rather important one, in fact. I'm starting to research a new technology that may well turn the tide of this war. I don't want to make it public knowledge yet, in case the initial tests don't work the way I hope, so I'm afraid I can't tell you exactly what it is. I simply want you to bring me the items on this list." He indicated a piece of paper on his desk.
Drum picked up the paper, glanced at it, and handed it to Ella. She didn't give it more than a glance either. The items were generic enough that nothing could be inferred about the nature of the project, and none were so hard to get that they warranted special mention. She put the list in her pocket.
"Do you want us to leave immediately?" Ella asked.
"Yes," said Shade, "At the next low tide. Anything else?"
"No sir."
"Good. Drum, you are dismissed. Ella, would you allow me to speak with you for a moment longer? Not regarding the mission."
Ella knew this had been coming. "Yes sir," she said. Drum left without a word, and she was left standing in front of the desk alone.
"Ella," said Shade, "I can't help but notice that your behavior over the last few days has been uncharacteristically antisocial. I understand your need to grieve for Brat in your own way, but - and I hope you don't think I'm being insensitive - I need to know that it won't affect your performance in the field." He raised his eyebrows expectantly, and his icy blue eyes sought hers. Dozens of winking red eyes around the darker corners of the room seemed to do the same.
When she met his gaze, her eyes were as cold and steady as his own. It was insensitive of him to ask, yes, and it was also necessary. Tact and manners had no place in this world. It didn't matter what she felt, or how far into apathy and depression she spiraled. The only thing that mattered was the mission, and her ability to complete it. She would fight for as long as she was able, and when she was no longer able she would die. It was as simple and brutal as that. No one could offer her anything better.
She left behind her delusions of home and friendship. Emotional attachments were weaknesses; Brat had taught her that. And she resolved to stop hiding from the world, as if her loss gave her leave to pretend that the war didn't still rage. Everyone had lost someone. Brat was no different from the thousands whose videos now languished in the archives.
For their sakes, she would defeat the Overlords. And as long as Shade shared her mission, she would follow his orders without question or hesitation. Finally understanding what it meant to live in this world after the Change, she gave up being a girl and became a weapon: reliable, functional, and deadly.
"No sir," was all she said, but her steely eyes told the rest of the story. Shade was the first to look away.
"Good," he said, "Dismissed."
----------
When Ella stepped outside and saw the sun on the horizon, for a moment she couldn't remember if it was sunrise or sunset. She had spent so much time in the vid rooms that she had lost track of the days. After a moment of thought she decided that it must be sunrise. Not the best time for a mission, since Wingers would be out during the day, but Shade had told her to leave at the next low tide.
"Three kinds of wire, tool sets, cell phone batteries…" Ella read off the list as she and Drum climbed into the mouth of the Main Drain, "We can get most of this from the hardware store, and the rest from the electronics store at the mall." She didn't mention that no one liked going to the mall, since it was a known Ferret nest. But the only other electronics store was across town, out of reasonable walking range, so they had no choice anyway.
"Which way?" said Drum, and Ella was almost startled that he hadn't simply nodded and fallen in behind her. Maybe he would become more talkative now that he was more comfortable in his new home.
"The hardware store is over Eight West, so not too far," she replied, "The mall is a little farther, but we should be able to get to both and back to the Sub before noon." She hoped she was right.
The hardware store was uneventful. They loaded up a backpack with various supplies from the list. Some were very specific, and it took them a while to find everything. Finally Ella had managed to open the computer inventory system and locate the remaining items electronically. All together, the items fit in one backpack but were quite heavy. Drum picked up the backpack without a word. Ella noticed that the straps had been specially elongated to fit over his massive shoulders.
"Thanks," she said as she picked up the empty pack. She would fill it when they got to the mall.
Another problem with the mall was that blockages in the drains had kept the routes closest to it dry for years, extending the Ferret nest underground. The closest safe manhole was several hundred yards away from the entrance, across a small park. Ella explained this to Drum as they sat in the drains sharing a can of string beans for lunch.
"Wingers?" he said in his strange voice.
"Exactly," said Ella through a mouthful of beans, "There's nowhere to hide so our best bet is to run for it. If we get inside the building, the Wingers will give up the chase. But if we're lucky, we'll never even be seen." She passed the beans back to Drum, who finished the can in one gulp. "Ready?" she asked. Drum tossed the empty can aside and nodded.
Ella tilted the manhole cover open and scanned the sliver of sky it revealed. It was clear, and it remained clear even when she shoved the cover completely aside. She waited for Drum to struggle through the hole, the backpack adding to his already sizable girth, and then began jogging toward the mall entrance.
Involuntarily, Ella's mind wandered. It had been in a park like this one that Brat had found her, a malnourished street kid desperately trying to choke down grass rather than risk going back into the city, where the Myrmidons patrolled. Ella had always been deathly afraid of Myrmidons, even more so than of the other Creatures. Brat had feared nothing, not even the Meat Factory. As he had said, "Whether your body's lying in the street or cut up and sewn into a Creature, dead is dead. The trick is to stay alive."
She didn't see the shadows that flitted beside them in the grass, though she should have. "Ella," said Drum softly. Ella snapped herself out of her reverie and looked behind them to see the Flight of Wingers that was following them. She wondered if Drum had been able to tell that she wasn't paying attention.
"Run for it," she said, and turned her jog into a sprint. Drum followed suit, and the lead Winger, seeing its prey escaping, dove.
They could both tell that they wouldn't make it to the relative safety of the mall before the Winger hit, so they turned as one to hold their ground. Drum drew his sword and cocked it over his shoulder like a batter watching a pitch fly towards the plate. Ella was impressed; most kids had to be taught to stand and fight after a lifetime of running away, but Drum didn't shy away from battle. But the Winger was picking up speed, and Ella could tell that even if Drum managed to hit it, the impact would almost certainly wound or kill him. She had to find a way to slow the Winger down.
It was hard to concentrate with a Winger bearing down on her, but Ella had had plenty of practice. She forced herself to close her eyes and focus on nothing but the image of a pane of glass backed by silver, its edges ground smooth so they wouldn't cut. Something flat, round, and cool that had not been there before was suddenly in her hand.
Ella held up the mirror in the split second before the Winger struck, reflecting the sun into its eyes. Temporarily blinded, it tried to pull out of its dive and retreat back to the sky. It managed to not crash into the ground, but the bottom of its arc brought it into Drum's striking range. He quickly shifted from a horizontal swing to an overhead slash, and there was a crunching sound and a spray of ichor as his sword connected with the Winger's shoulder.
The Creature flopped to the ground, its wing shattered. Ella and Drum left it behind in a screaming heap and sprinted the last yards to the mall. The rest of the Flight, intimidated by the defeat of their leader, gave them wide berth as they wrenched open the doors and disappeared into the dark.
The mall was a multi-tiered complex, and the top floors were covered in windows and flooded with light. But there was also a basement complex, where no sunlight reached and where the electric lights that had once lit it lay smashed on the floor. In this impenetrable darkness, the Ferrets had taken up residence. In the early days of the Change, they must have favored it as a hunting ground, feeding on Dorm escapees who remembered the mall as safe and familiar, and sought refuge there. Now no one ventured into that dark pit, but the Ferrets remained, sleeping away the day and moving as one fleshy mass.
The electronics store was in the basement, so that was where Ella and Drum ventured now. As soon as the door closed behind them, they were thrust into complete and utter darkness. Ella groped to her right and found the wall, then reached out to her left and felt Drum beside her. Her left hand still held the mirror, and when Drum took her hand he felt it and took it, studying it blindly.
"Is it a mirror?" he guessed, turning it over in his hands, "Where did you get it?"
"I made it," said Ella, "Just then. That's my Talent." She expected Drum to ask why she didn't create food, or explosives, or an airplane so all the kids could escape the city and live in the farmlands or the mountains. She always had to explain that she needed to know an object inside and out before she could actualize it, and that bigger and more complex objects could be difficult or impossible to create. But Drum seemed to assume that Ella knew best, and appreciated the small miracle she had worked without asking for more.
"Flashlights," Ella ordered after a moment of silence. The flashlights provided by Shade worked, but they weren't very bright and the batteries didn't last long. Shade insisted that they used to have better ones, but they were lost one by one on various missions, and each time they were replaced by inferior models. The twin pools of light emitted by Ella's and Drum's lights illuminated a short stairway in front of them and two broken and peeling store fronts in a long hallway. A short way down the hall was a map. Though it was almost completely grown over with mildew, Ella worked out the general layout of the complex.
"This way," she said, and set off into the darkness. She shined her weak light back and forth, scanning inside stores and even on the ceiling. They had seen no Ferrets yet, but she was sure one would spring on her suddenly from the direction she least expected. The darkness was making her edgy, and while once she might have trusted Brat and Corbie to watch her back, now she felt she had to scan every corner herself.
Drum was proving himself to be a good partner, but Ella resisted the urge to trust him as she had Brat. That kind of trust was dangerous. After all, even Brat hadn't been vigilant enough to prevent his own demise. How could she trust anyone to prevent her own? It was difficult and lonely, but she would have to rely only on herself.
She heard the Ferrets before she saw them.
Dozens of bodies breathing together, their pants and sighs echoing in the empty corridors, created a whispery music as Ella and Drum approached. Finally, the edge of Ella's light caught a padded foot, and the nest came into view.
Her first instinct was to count them into groups of five, to see how many Fangs she was dealing with. But Ella soon saw that there would be no counting these Ferrets; they were draped and knotted in a heap so thick that it was difficult to tell one body from the other. And it was huge, blocking the entire hall. Even though Ella could see the window of the electronics store from where she stood, it was impossible to get to it.
"Can you move the things we need over to us?" Ella whispered, "Without waking the Ferrets?"
Drum studied the distant store front and even raised his hand experimentally, seeming to grope for something in the air. But then he shook his head. "I have to be able to see what I'm moving," he said, "Or at least know where it is. I can't see anything from here."
Ella shined her light as far as she could. The store front was completely plugged with Ferrets. Even if they managed to find another way around, they would never be able to get inside. "Looks like we're going across town," she sighed, "Come on. If we get out of here now we'll get back to the Sub before dark, at least." She turned to go back to the staircase and the door, hoping that the Wingers would still be keeping their distance.
And she stopped. Something was moving in the darkness. As she watched, a roiling wave of fur and claws rolled out of a side hallway and across her path. She leaped back, crashing into Drum and sending them both to the floor. Their flashlights rolled away, and in their flickering light Ella caught an impression of the blob that had almost engulfed them: a mass of Ferrets, all half-asleep, each jostling for position in a claustrophobic ball. Their individual movements caused the heap to move as one creature, moving through the halls like an amoeba. Before Ella could react, they had already blocked the hallway and, just as quickly, fallen still.
They were trapped.