A World of Ash: The Territory 3 (17 page)

Lynn, with Knox Soilwork beside her, stood before the crowd that had gathered in front of the Great Gate, the mob that, just as he’d said, Hank had pointed in the right direction, or at least in the direction he wanted them to go. Word of the plan had spread through the slums and the result was undeniable. It was unlike the organization of any army Lynn could imagine – because that’s what it was, she had realized soon enough – an army. But they were completely unlike the Diggers she had grown up around. The institution of the Diggers had a clear and easily understood hierarchical structure. The organization was designed to be efficient, to be disciplined, like the soldiers themselves. Each Digger knew his place, they knew who they took orders from and who they gave orders to. They were arranged into units with specific purposes. They had support organizations like the Workmen and the Engineers. They had an entire division of administration behind them, paperwork in triplicate to ensure everything was done by the book.

Now, as if they wanted to prove themselves the complete antithesis of this, the army of the slums had sprung up like an organically grown plant, its tangled roots spreading from Hank outward to every corner of the community. Having been raised by a career soldier, and knowing more about the Diggers than she did about any other organization in the Territory, Lynn could not see how this had worked. There was no rank structure, no chain of command and no uniform, and yet somehow this group had formed with a common purpose and a plan they all seemed to understand. They were not following lawful commands given by a superior officer; they were a multitude of desperate people that one man had managed to unite and shape into a single unit with the will to fight.

They had come ready to attack the immense wall that had barred them and their kind from the Alice Inside for hundreds of years. Somehow Hank had put the idea in their heads that they could tear down the mammoth barrier before them with only the clubs, knives, and rusted swords they wielded. Some, Lynn saw, held mechanical rifles over their shoulders, but many of the weapons looked to be as old as the city itself. Lynn saw that many of these slum-soldiers were women. At least that was one way in which they were more advanced than the Diggers. She knew women could fight as strongly and viciously as men if they had good reason, and it seemed the slums knew this too.

Lynn tried to stare the gathered mass down, to intimidate them in some way, as if it was even remotely possible to stare down an entire army. They were looking at her in a mixture of confusion and anger. How could she explain that she didn’t want to stop them from getting inside the Wall? In fact, that was exactly what she was hoping to achieve out here, but she was sure the way they were going about it was wrong. They would be slaughtered. But standing there, looking out at the determined faces before her, she felt for the first time that she might be on the wrong side of this exchange. If Hank could raise this roiling, turbulent militia of men and women simply because he understood the people of the slums, then maybe there was a chance he knew something she didn’t.

Lynn turned to look behind her. Just as she had feared, and just as Knox had tried to warn Hank, the Holy Order were also gathering, and they appeared more than ready to defend the Wall. All along the battlements Lynn could see red cloak after red cloak flapping gently in the breeze. The men of the Holy Order stood motionless, their mechanical rifles at the ready. Lynn could see it now; they would annihilate the army of the slums without ever needing to come down from their position on top of the Wall. They had the perfect defense, and Hank and his slum-dwellers were fighting the very definition of an uphill battle.

As Lynn watched the Wall she saw a dirigible drifting in a low, slow circle above them. She had noticed it before as it passed overhead. It was a small vessel, nothing like the transport ships she had seen flying to and from Alice or the pirate dirigible and Holy Order dirigibles she had flown on. This one would have been lucky to hold three or four people. Her father had spoken of small airships like these, and though they weren’t often seen around Alice they were common further out in the Territory where they were used by the boundary riders to monitor the fence. What was one doing here, though?

Lynn ignored it. It must have been flying ahead to bring word of the horde. If the boundary riders were here then the horde must really be no more than a few days away. When Lynn turned back to the crowd she saw Hank making his way through to the front of the group.

“Lynnette,” Hank called to her, “what do you think you’re doing? You’re not going to achieve anything other than getting yourself hurt.”

“Look up there!” Lynn said, pointing to the top of the Wall as Hank approached, trying to draw his attention to the Holy Order standing ready in defense as if Hank somehow didn’t know they were there. In a quieter voice she hoped wouldn’t carry to the people in the crowd she said, “They’re going to cut you down. That’s what I’m trying to stop, Hank, another unnecessary massacre. I’ve seen enough people throw themselves into hopeless battle for ten lifetimes.”

“These men and women know what they’re doing,” Hank said. “They know what’s at stake. Maybe some of them will die here, but if we do nothing then all of us die.”

“Not necessarily,” Lynn said. “Squid might make it.”

“Might,” Hank said. “As I’ve already told you, I don’t bet the lives of my people on mights. I have found myself in a position of responsibility where I need to make the tough decisions. I didn’t ask for this, much as you have found yourself in a role I’m sure you never expected. Now you are forcing me to make another of these tough decisions. If you do not move aside the people behind me will simply charge forward regardless. You can’t stop them. Please retreat to safety and when this is over, and we have claimed a place of safety within the walls, I will open the gates to you and everyone who seeks refuge from the ghouls.”

Lynn stared at Hank for a long moment, knowing he was right in saying there was nothing she could do. Knox knew it too.

“Come on, Lynnette,” the Chief Minister said. “We best do as Hank says and get out of danger. With your hand and my age neither of us is much suited to joining this fight even if we thought it was a fight worth joining.”

Lynn turned to look back at the Great Gate one last time, the gate she was sure would still be standing when this fight was over, and by the look of the red-cloaks standing disciplined and ready atop the Wall, it was a fight that wouldn’t last long.

As Lynn walked through them, the warriors of the slums parted as if they did have some respect for her after all. She didn’t think they knew who she was or what she had done; perhaps they just respected someone who was willing to stand up for her beliefs in front of an entire army. As she and Knox moved back through the slums Lynn saw men, women, and children, those who were not going to be part of the fight, clambering onto the roofs of structures that creaked under their weight, trying to get a view of the battle about to take place. Lynn looked toward a nearby house, a place with no front wall and an opening directly into the main sitting room and kitchen. Its interior was empty, the residents likely lining up with the army. The roof, a series of overlapping sheets of metal, seemed to be well supported by a criss-cross lattice of wooden beams. Lynn was sure Squid would be able to tell her much more about the structural integrity of the place but it looked sturdy enough to her.

“Come on,” Lynn said. “Do you think you can climb onto that roof?”

Knox nodded. “I believe so,” he said, “though I didn’t think you wanted to watch this.”

“I don’t really,” Lynn said. “But maybe Hank can prove me wrong.”

They used a pile of barrels stacked against an outer wall to clamber up onto the roof beside a group of four local children. The children, their faces dirty and their bare feet hanging off the edge of the sheet metal, were the exact image of how Insiders would portray thieving pickpockets, but as Lynn and Knox made their way up onto the roof one of them, a girl, spoke.

“You were out there?” she said, simultaneously both a statement and a question.

“Yes,” Lynn said. “That’s right.”

“What was you doing out there?” another, a smaller boy this time, asked.

“Trying to stop this.”

“Why?” the first girl chimed in.

“Well,” Lynn said, “I don’t want to see anyone from the slums get hurt.”

The children looked at her in the very appraising way that only children can.

“Make sure you step where the nails are,” the second boy said, “otherwise the roof might break.”

“Thanks,” Lynn said.

And with that the children spun their attention back to what they could see of the Wall. An unspoken agreement seemed to have passed between them that these two strangers were all right, and right now it was more important that they didn’t miss anything that was about to happen. Listening to their chatter, Lynn realized even the young of the slums were of the belief that the event they were about to witness was their liberation. She supposed she could forgive that naivety in the very young, but despite whatever slim hope she clung to that Hank would pull off a miracle, she couldn’t understand the naivety in him.

Above her Lynn noticed again that same small dirigible circling. She hadn’t paid it much attention when she’d first seen it, but now she was certain it wasn’t heading into the city. Why not, if it was a boundary rider tasked with reporting news of the horde? Suddenly she was quite sure it was circling around her in particular. She could see two figures inside, and for a moment her heart raced with the sudden hope that it was Squid and Nim, here with the weapon that would save them all. Then there would be no need for Hank to send his slum-soldiers to war against the Inside. But no, it wasn’t Squid and Nim; one of the passengers looking over the side was too tall and wearing a wide-brimmed hat, and the other, who Lynn could just see through the dirty glass floor, seemed too young. She looked away. She was just being paranoid. She ignored the airship, focusing instead on what was happening in front of her.

They didn’t need to wait long before the conflict that had been brewing for hundreds of years finally ignited. The people of the slums, the downtrodden, the forgotten, the weak, finally rose up and attacked the impenetrable Wall that surrounded those who lived in privilege, those who the slum-dwellers had looked upon with envy ever since the Reckoning. It wasn’t at all like the story Ms Apple had once told, of David and Goliath. It was entirely worse than that; it was ant versus boot, fly versus swatter, wooden stick versus steel sword. It was a hopeless cause and yet, just as Hank had said, it was a cause so desperate that it spurred the army of the slums on like there was fire at their backs. They charged at the solid rock with passionate roars.

The cracking of mechanical gunfire began in earnest from the Holy Order high upon the Wall. Men and women were cut down just as Lynn had known they would be, falling with limbs flailing and weapons dropping, landing motionless or squirming on the red dirt before the gate. Some of the slum-dwellers dropped to their knees, lifted their eclectic collection of rifles and fired off a volley of shots in return, aiming at those gaps in the battlements. Maybe some of the Holy Order were hit, but it was all too much like trying to fight a bushfire with a bucket.

It didn’t escape Lynn’s notice that most of those who had lined up ready to fight for the slums, those who tossed weapons nervously from hand to hand or continuously wiped their palms down their legs, were still standing back where they had started. They hadn’t joined the suicidal charge toward the Wall. It wasn’t cowardice, though it may have looked like that to the untrained eye. Lynn recognized it for what it was: strategy. Those who hadn’t charged were just beyond the range of the red-cloaks on the Wall, or at least at a distance where accuracy would be a problem. From the point of view of the Holy Order their numbers would be indeterminable hidden among the ragged and haphazard buildings of the slums. It was a clear reserve force – though Lynn judged their numbers to be much higher than the Holy Order would be able to estimate – but this advantage mattered little if all they could do was charge at the same sheer face of stone and wood.

Suddenly it looked as if the slums themselves began to march forward. The very materials the place was built from appeared to have sprung to life, like a crudely formed armoured beast. It took a moment for the disorientation to pass and for Lynn to realize that the buildings themselves were not moving but that a structure of metal sheeting, having been camouflaged until now among the houses, had been lifted onto the shoulders of dozens and dozens of men and was being marched toward the gate. As they moved out into the area of empty red dirt in front of the Great Gate Lynn saw many more people shielded beneath the structure, carrying the weight of an immense battering ram.

Bullets fell on the shield like a rain storm stronger than any Lynn had lived to see. The sound of pinging metal and hollow
thunk
s rose to drown out even the shouts of those not protected by the structure. Some of the bullets passed through the protective roof, and as it continued its slow movement forward the bodies of the dead or wounded were being deposited behind it.

But the shield moved inexorably forward, ever closer to the Great Gate. On the wall above there were shouts as red-cloaks moved to concentrate their fire on the shield above the ram. It was clear to Lynn the purpose of the roof was to protect the ram long enough for the slum-dwellers to breach the gate. Then those left huddled among the slums, out of range or out of sight of the Holy Order, would charge forward. Lynn couldn’t help but be impressed by Hank’s strategy, particularly as he had managed to plan and execute it with this ragtag army. If they could bring down the gate, maybe they stood a chance after all. Maybe.

Even under intense fire from the Holy Order the ram reached the Great Gate. The enormous shield was held in place as a resounding boom sounded out, like the hand of God himself knocking on the front door. There was a ripple of movement from the point of impact but the Great Gate barely shifted. It would take many more strikes of the ram to breach it. Shouting started coming from the Holy Order on the battlements as they realized what was happening.

On the battlements above, the cracking fire from the mechanical rifles had slowed. It still peppered down on the shield below but Lynn could see that many of the clergymen had begun moving away. When they returned moments later they were dragging barrels close to the edge of the Wall and working at opening their lids. When they upended the barrels, a thick brown liquid poured in dripping clumps down on the slum-dwellers below. It splattered onto their makeshift shield and spread across the red dirt around them. Even before the Holy Order dropped the flaming torches Lynn knew that it was bio-fuel pitch, similar to the concoction the engineers fired from their artillery guns. She felt her stomach rise as she contemplated the consequences. It would burn hot and long. As the torches landed on it from above, the coating on the shield ignited with the
whoosh
of rushing oxygen. Flames leaped into the air, and seconds later the ground lit up as well. It didn’t take long for the screams to start as the flaming liquid dripped down through the shield and melted into those beneath it.

Lynn looked away, unable to hold her gaze on what amounted to a massive funeral pyre. She could hear the screaming of those burned alive and it was worse, so much worse, than the sounds of the Battle of Dust. There had been nothing like this when they had fought against the ghouls. She tasted bile as nausea rushed her throat. That pitch, she realized, had been on the Wall to pour on the ghouls. It should never have been used on other humans. Why were they fighting each other like this when their real enemy was only days away? The stupidity was astounding. Why didn’t the Insiders just open the gates and let them in? They could fight off the ghouls together and maybe find a way to co-exist, if not all in the city then at least on a more equal footing. But no, they would rather waste their weapons and their lives on the selfish and short-sighted desire to maintain the status quo.

Through the screams and the crackling of flames Lynn could still hear the booming of the battering ram. They were still, somehow, slamming the immense thing against the gate, and she saw that with each strike the gate jolted more. There was the sound of the cracking of thick wood.

Lynn saw more movement either side of her. Two groups of perhaps twenty slum-soldiers each began running forward out of the protection of the slums. Each of these soldiers had individual shields fashioned from scraps of metal strapped to their arms. They held them aloft as they sprinted toward the Wall. Some of the clergymen on the battlements moved to a location where they could better fire upon them but the vast majority remained above the Great Gate, firing and dropping the explosive pitch on the ram below, which they obviously considered the greater threat.

Soon the Holy Order’s focus on the shielded battering ram was rewarded. The slamming of the ram against the gate had begun to slow and eventually stopped completely. With final shouts the burning shield, still held aloft by the brave souls beneath, succumbed to the flames. The center gave way and the wood and metal, alight with bio-fuel, collapsed and pinned the battering ram and those who had wielded it beneath the flaming wreck.

Lynn heard a commotion a short distance away. She looked around to see Hank making his way through the slums. Lynn stood.

“Hank!” she said.

The man was ignoring those who shouted at him with desperate pleas for information. But, as if he had recognized Lynn’s voice, he turned to see her standing on the roof. She bit her lip. She didn’t want to say, “I told you so,” because at the end of the day she would have liked nothing better than to see him come away victorious, and she wasn’t so callous as to want to salt his wounds or disgrace the memories of all those she had just watched die. Instead, she just said, “I’m sorry.”

Hank’s eyes were hollow and sunken. He knew they had lost. Lynn had to admit their plan had been impressive, and it might even have worked if the Holy Order hadn’t used their ghoul defense against the people of the slums. But they had, and just as Lynn had suspected it was a battle that hadn’t lasted long.

“I’m sorry as well,” Hank said. “If the gate had fallen there may have been hope for all of us, but not now.”

“If you stop now we can discuss a defense strategy. You managed to bring together that attack against the Wall, I’m sure we can organize a solid defense against the ghouls. Maybe some of the people out here can survive.”

“You misunderstand me. If we are left to be taken by ghouls,” Hank said, his eyes somehow even more distant and cold, “then the Insiders will be taken with us.” And he walked away.

“What?” Lynn said, but the man did not stop to answer her. “Hank! What do you mean?!” But she lost sight of him, only catching brief glimpses as he weaved away through the conglomeration of the slums.

Lynn spun to Knox, wanting to see what he had made of Hank’s sinister words, but he shook his head, frowning, his eyes thin. Soon after they saw more slum-dwellers sprint from the relative safety of the slum buildings toward the groups they’d seen advancing on either side of the ram, who were now huddled with shields in the air around a spot at the base of the Wall two or three hundred yards away from the Great Gate and the burning wreck of twisted wood, metal, and bodies that now lay before it.

A minute, maybe two, after the runners had reached those huddled at the Wall, all of them ran away, streaming off in all directions. They had left their shields behind, perhaps so they could move more quickly. It was like a stone had been thrown among birds, causing them to scatter. Some fell under shots from the Holy Order but not many. It seemed the clergy on the Wall were as confused by what was happening as Lynn was. At least for a moment.

“Oh, Ancestors’ sin,” Lynn muttered under her breath as she realized what they’d done.

What followed was a concussive eruption, as if the world itself had split open. There was a boom and the cracking of stone as an explosion emanated out from the Wall. Lynn felt the shock of the blast in her chest, rattling her rib cage and reverberating through her lungs. Red-brown dust plumed from the base of the Wall as the soil was vaporized. Fragments of stone ranging in size from a fist to larger than a bio-truck flew outward under the force of the blast, raining down on the first rows of slum buildings and causing most to collapse.

As the rain of falling stone settled there was an almost tangible silence across Alice. The Holy Order had stopped firing their rifles. There was no movement from the slums. Everyone seemed to be frozen in place. From the site of the explosion a large chunk of the Wall dislodged and crashed down onto the rubble below. As the red-brown dust began to clear the damage was evident. The explosion had done precisely what Hank had wanted. A jagged hole had been blown cleanly through the Wall. It had torn an immense opening all the way to the top of the stone structure and was wide enough for hundreds of ghouls to easily enter the city at once, and of course hundreds more would follow behind them, and hundreds more after that. The damage was extensive enough that the Wall could never be repaired before the horde arrived. Hank, in a vindictive move Lynn had not seen coming, had taken away what the Insiders valued most: their safety. In one fell swoop he had put every single resident of the Central Territory on the same level. Now they all faced death at the hands of the ghouls. The mammoth Wall that had stood and protected Alice for hundreds of years had been torn asunder. Now, not only were the slums endangered, but their entire civilization was on the brink of extinction. Without the protection of its Wall, Alice was just a place like any other.