Shadow Fall (The Shadow Saga) (31 page)

G
RACE LEANED AGAINST THE
cold railing on the command center’s balcony, trying her best not to shiver as she breathed in the fresh winter air. She risked being seen in the open, but she needed to get out, to escape the world where her command was falling to pieces around her. First she had failed with Eli, then the Ruling Council had tossed Silent Thunder into the middle of a civil war, and now this. An entire base eliminated…every man, woman, and child.

There would be whispers for her removal, no doubt, but whether they would grow into more than that she couldn’t say. In the face of tragedy men always needed someone to blame, and it might make them feel better to prove all those people had died as a result of Grace Sawyer’s blunder. Easier to face the future that way, rather than accept the truth that sometimes terrible things just happen…and any one of them might meet the same fate as those in Center 3 one day.

But it was not for herself that she grieved. It was for those she had lost...for those she could not save, could not protect, could not bring back. Men and women who would never see freedom; children who would never fall in love; lives extinguished before their time, like a canvas painting that would be forever incomplete. Fault did not matter. It had happened on her watch, and she was responsible. She had failed them. And that was not the only tragedy the day had brought.

Alexandria had descended into a nightmare. The boots of hundreds of Great Army soldiers thundered loudly on the concrete as they moved from one location to the next, spreading their horrors to the tune of random gunfire and the anguished cries of their victims. The city burned, and smoke rose into the late afternoon sky—black like the feeling in her heart.

“The city is falling apart,” Crenshaw said from behind her. “But we can’t afford for you to do the same. You should not be out here, Grace.”

“This is happening because of us,” she said, her voice hollow. “Alexander is trying to draw us out.”

“Yes,” Crenshaw came and stood beside her on the balcony, listening to the sounds of the city with disquiet. “He has targeted you in particular, hoping that the suffering of the city will convince you to turn yourself in.”

“Perhaps I should.”

“To what end?” Crenshaw asked. “You die, and then what? The city will never go back to how it used to be, not after this.”

“So why do it?” she asked. “Why risk everything to smoke out one enemy?”

“The Ruling Council’s betrayal has made him desperate,” the general answered. “A smart man knows it is better to fight one war at a time, and he wants to be rid of us before the Ruling Council strikes again.”

“What was it all for, Crenshaw?” she asked. “All these battles and missions and deaths. Did we accomplish anything? Succeed in anything?”

“We have paved the way for the next stage, and that is all we can do.”

Grace sighed.
The next stage, of which I remain in the dark
. “I am considering the withdrawal of all Silent Thunder operatives from Alexandria. The loss of Center 3 places all of us at greater risk, and if the Right Hand is not going to give us support in striking more targets then there is little else for us to do here. I would keep as many of our people alive as possible, so that we can regroup and change course.”

Crenshaw paused for a moment, rubbing his hands together against the cold, “I think withdrawal would be very wise. I had hoped to keep us here in a central location, but you’re right: the fate of Center 3 places us all in danger. Davian tells me they have had cameras and proximity alarms installed along the path from the center in case someone finds the burned landline. We will have little warning, but little is better than nothing.”

“Any word on what happened?” she asked. “On how they were compromised?”

A deep frown creased Crenshaw’s brow and he set his eyes on a place far in the distance. Clearly, he did not have comforting news. “You ordered that Elena Wilson be transferred to a camp in the Wilderness, and they needed to go through one of the bases on their way out. They went to Center 3.” An icy hand clenched around Grace’s heart as Crenshaw went on, “It would seem Elena escaped from the facility. They were lax with her while they had her children, because they didn’t think she would leave without them. But they were wrong. She returned to the World System and betrayed the center. Led them right to it.”

Grace shut her eyes tightly. So it came down to that. Betrayal. Looking back, she should have known from Elena’s desperation that she was capable of something like this, but she always wanted to believe the best in people.
Naïve
, Crenshaw had called her. Well, no longer. If Grace Sawyer wasn’t hard enough—wasn’t cold enough—to keep this rebellion alive, then Shadow Heart would be.

“I want you and Davian to oversee the withdrawal,” she said, not wishing to dwell on the subject of Elena Wilson any longer. “Set a rendezvous point for somewhere just outside the city borders, and send word to the other commanders that if they will continue to stand with us, we are not done.”

“I can relay your orders to Davian and help with the evacuation,” Crenshaw stepped back from the balcony and looked down at his feet. “But I cannot go with you.”

Grace couldn’t say she was surprised at the announcement. A part of her was just waiting for Crenshaw to leave, to go off on some personal crusade and leave her to hold the pieces together as he had done with her father years before. He had other plans, other goals, and they did not all include Silent Thunder. Still, she had gotten used to having him around. Over the last few days, she felt he was really the only one who truly understood her pain at losing her father. She would miss him, frustrations and all.

“What will you do?” she asked. “Wait for the Right Hand’s call?”

“Something like that,” he replied. “But before I go there is a place I think you should see. A place I go sometimes…for perspective.”

“Crenshaw, I couldn’t possibly leave now.”

“It won’t take long, and Davian can see to preparations until we return.”

“What is it about?” she asked. “Eli?”

“No,” he shook his head. “This is about you. Just trust me.”

She sighed, “I don’t know…”

“It will be worth it,” he said. “I promise. And I’ll also promise that if you come, we can finish that conversation we began earlier…about the reason I am here.”

Her eyes widened. Wherever he wanted to take her, it must be extremely important for him to play that card. But would he actually tell her, or was this another of his games? Still, there was little for her to do after giving the order to evacuate. The exodus would be carried out in waves—hers being the very last to leave. She had a little time, and if it meant learning what Crenshaw had been up to—perhaps even the purpose behind Silent Thunder’s presence in Alexandria—she had to go.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll go just as soon as the withdrawal has begun.”

“I’ll put Davian on it now,” Crenshaw said. “Meet me by the entry hatch in about ten minutes. And bring your father’s Spectral Gladius. Where we’re going, you’re going to need it.” The general turned to leave.

“Crenshaw, wait,” she stopped him. “Just one more thing, before you go. Elena Wilson’s children…what happened to them?”

“They were transferred to our contacts in the Wilderness successfully,” he replied. “Perhaps one day they will reunite with their mother, but for now they are safe and that’s all that matters.”

“Yes,” she nodded, glad for at least some good news amongst the sea of tragedy. “Thank you.”

Crenshaw smiled, and then left her alone again on the balcony to watch as the grand admiral’s fires consumed the city. She could put a stop to it, perhaps, if she turned herself in to the authorities. But then what? She would suffer and die for Napoleon Alexander’s pleasure, and he would go on ruling…terrorizing the people just as he always did.

But the System works
, Crenshaw’s voice argued in her mind.
For 85%
of people, it works
.

You see only what you want to see
.

Was it possible she had the same problem when it came to Eli? Had she wanted so badly to see a good man in him that she had twisted his true nature? Perhaps he was too far gone. Perhaps he would never come over to their side. If so, she feared much of what they had done—what countless men, including her father, had died for—would be in vain. She didn’t know much about Crenshaw’s endgame, but Eli seemed to be at the center of it. Without him, the entire thing might fall apart.

As would Silent Thunder, should she decide to give up her life for the people of the city. Could the force survive the loss of a second leader so soon after the death of her father? And if Silent Thunder fell, how many generations would it be before someone else built up the courage to oppose Napoleon Alexander?

I never wanted this…I never wanted to be a leader
. But despite those feelings she had accepted the charge to command, and she had to accept all the responsibilities that went with it. First she would see her people to safety. Then, she would see to the welfare of the city—in whatever way she could.

About an hour after her conversation with Crenshaw on the balcony, she strode with him though the underground of Alexandria. He led her along a path she did not recognize, though she had taken only a few routes away from the command center since her return from captivity. The best she could tell he led them northeast toward the outskirts of the city.

“Where are we going, Crenshaw?” she asked finally, beginning to feel a subtle complaint in her muscles. “We can’t stay gone for too much longer.”

“Davian has everything well in hand,” Crenshaw replied. “And we’ll be back before the first wave withdraws. Just be patient; we’ll be there soon.”

They continued on in the dark, until Grace was certain they must have passed beyond the borders of the city, and the complaint in her legs gave way to numbness. Even her body had given up on the chance of taking a rest. She tried not to think about all the bruises she had discovered earlier, but even as she did she started to feel them each time her boots hit the concrete. She gritted her teeth against the pain, convincing herself it couldn’t possibly be much farther.

She focused on the ground a few feet in front of her to make sure she didn't stumble over anything in the darkness, and when General Crenshaw finally came to a stop she nearly ran right into him. She opened her mouth to ask if they had arrived when she looked up and was silenced by the sight before her. The underground tunnel opened up suddenly to the outside, bathing them in moonlight and exposing them to the biting wind. But the cold was the furthest thing from Grace’s mind as she came and stood beside Crenshaw to look upon the scene. The ground sloped off where the tunnel ended, leveling off several yards down below them. Nothing but debris filled the space, and Grace knew without asking that they were on top of a blast crater created by an incredibly powerful weapon. Across the crater she saw the remains of an impressive structure that had once been shaped like a dome. The side closest to them had taken a direct hit by the bomb, laying open the interior floors as though a fourth of it had just been sliced away.

“Crenshaw,” she said, not taking her eyes off the structure. “Is this...?”

“Come,” the general said as he started forward. “Soldiers do not come here often, but it is not wise to linger overlong.”

26

G
RACE FOLLOWED
C
RENSHAW OUT
of the tunnel and down into the crater, where it seemed as though the earth had been crushed beneath the force of a rounded object that then just disappeared. The materials of the dome cracked and crumbled beneath her feet, compacted into the ground and covered over by dirt and greenery as nature reclaimed the clearing for its own.

Crenshaw continued on past the crater’s epicenter and up the opposite slope, where the remains of the old structure lingered amidst the destruction. Grace gazed up at the sky above the dome, and upon beholding the overcast haze she was reminded strongly of the Wilderness. During her teenage years she had always dreamed of escaping it—now she would give almost anything to go back and leave this craziness behind.

They made it to the top of the slope and entered the gutted structure, where Grace beheld the signs of a violent battle. Old metal shell casings littered the floor along with what she strongly suspected were human remains, no longer recognizable from years of decomposition. Bullet holes decorated the walls that remained standing, along with gashes that could only have been made by a Spectral Gladius. She ran her fingers along one, imagining the desperation of the warrior who had made it. This likely became his final resting place.

Beneath the gash Grace saw a symbol on the wall, and her fingers trailed from the gash to trace the image of the Spectral Gladius and the two rays of light that extended from the sides of the blade. It was the symbol all Silent Thunder operatives still wore: the Spectral Cross, the most forbidden of symbols in the World System. Beneath the hilt words had been inscribed,
More Than Conquerors.
This was where she had lived until that fateful day of defeat fifteen years before: the Silent Thunder Dome.