Four great Families are now three. Orani, Nord, and Anglan -"
He stopped midsentence, a large blade erupting from his chest.
"This can't go on."
A burly giant behind him slowly withdrew the weapon, his eyes wild.
A kick sent the Family Father to the ground.
The burly man, clearly the second-in-command, stared downward at the body - and then at the other two Family leaders on either side of the wide area.
Nobody moved.
"We're all going to burn for what we've done today," he choked out, turning to the crowd. "I don't even understand how this happened. I don't care if the Subian families unionize. It's no cut on me. Who chose this path?"
"It wasn't our fault!" somebody shouted. "They were the ones vying for more power!"
"Yeah… it just happened… we couldn't stop it!"
A choir of yelled agreements followed.
The Nord and Anglan leaders each retreated within their groups. Both grey-haired men obviously knew exactly what was about to happen.
The Orani Second stared around in disbelief. "So it's nobody's fault, then?" His gaze came to the Subian prisoners. "You people better get out of here."
The hundred pushed away from their uncertain captors, running without hesitation.
"If anyone's to blame, it's you!"
"Yeah, he's the Second. Why didn't he stop it?"
"For all we know, he wanted this to happen. Now he's the Father!"
"Nobody wanted this," someone else shouted. "He's right. We killed millions -"
"No, you did. It started with your people."
"Us? It was clearly you!"
The first punch broke, and the last audible words were cut off, drowned out by an erupting wave of violence.
She crept back into the alley, red-faced from the effort and fear, falling back against the wall next to him. "Rolf, what's going on?"
He wasn't sure what to think. "They're killing each other."
She brought up the live feed, then immediately closed it, gripping her hand in her mouth. "Are… they all insane?"
He considered it for a moment - their violence, their brutality, the incredible swiftness with which the storm had surged across everything and everyone - and now across the Gangs themselves. "I really don’t know…"
"The Scientists will do something," she said, worried but confident. "They'll say something, help things. They always figure out a way, right?"
"Yeah," he nodded, almost hopeful, thinking of his favorite Scientist from his favorite story. The tall Nord hero, Thilo Doransson, handled end-of-the-world scenarios all the time - and even managed to drop suave one liners in the middle of the worst situations. This nightmare was nothing compared to those stories… "Yeah, we just have to wait."
But no announcement seemed forthcoming, no plan in the works just yet.
She gave him his half-chunk of cricket bread, and they ate in silence, hopefully expectant.
She crept back into the alley, wary of the slowly returning populace in the streets. "Looks like people are going back to work."
"I guess they have to," he groaned, holding his swelled arm.
She gave him his half-chunk of cricket bread, and they ate in silence.
The low vitals of a zombie woman down the alley flatlined.
Two adults entered the alley and stepped past, dragging the body back out, heading for a gapsquare.
"Think they saw us?" she asked.
With hard eyes, he watched them go. He did not reply.
She crept back into the alley, emerging from the crowded street with a sigh of exhaustion.
Shaking him awake, she jumped back as he lashed out, swinging his arms in terror.
"Rolf, it's just me!"
Covered in sweat, slowly realizing that it had only been another nightmare, he took a few gasping breaths and tried to calm down.
She broke her half-chunk into two pieces and offered him one.
He shook his head. "What are you doing?"
"You need to eat, too."
"I can't take your food."
"You can if I give it to you. Then it won't flag you as a thief -"
"No, that's not what I mean. It's not the smart choice," he insisted.
"The smart choice? What?"
He set his jaw. "You've got to leave me here and go beg for a job or something. You can't be wasting the last of your food on me."
She shook her head. "No. Nobody's going to give us jobs."
He gestured at his broken leg. "I can't do anything. I'm stuck. You're not."
"Shut up," she said flatly, pushing the bread against his good hand. "Take it."
"It's a waste," he replied bitterly. "Please just go."
She delivered a swift punch to his shoulder, her face screwing up with sudden tears. "Shut up. Just shut up. You don't get to give up. You don't get to die. You don't get to die and leave me here." Her fingers gripped his arm tightly, her knuckles white. "I can't do this alone. I can't…"
He envisioned her having to struggle through the approaching suffering by herself, alone in a world that was quickly revealing itself as cold, horrible, and uncaring. Even through all his numb and void, he still felt a pang of sorrow at that thought. "Alright," he gave in, sorry that he'd hurt her feelings so. "But how long can we really last?"
"It doesn't matter," she sobbed. "We just keep going."
Silently, apologetically, he took the cricket bread.
"We just keep going," she said again, sitting unhappily and sniffling as she ate her half.
He finished eating, but his stomach didn't seem to realize he was out of food. It continued grumbling with hunger.
"I did find some game where rich people bet and the winner gets some money," he finally offered, despondent. "I'm sure I could win some matches. And it's good because I… I can't move much, so I've got all day to work on it." He forced a small laugh that he did not feel. "Nothing else to do, right?"
"Yeah," she responded quietly.
But they both knew their best chance for survival - what she would have to do.
Steeling herself, she stood and dusted off her clothes, choosing those certain colors.
She crept back into the alley, holding herself tight.
Wordlessly, she threw a half-chunk to the stone next to him. She sat roughly with her own bread, staring at the ground as she tore into it.
He ate in silence, watching her. He had no idea what to say.
After a few bites, still staring at the ground, she finally spoke. "How did your games go?"
Wondering how she was feeling, he tentatively went into it. "I managed to win one, someone said I'm learning fast. But…"
"But what?" she asked, her voice distant and quiet.
"There are other Subians finding their way there. They want me to work with them, all of us together. But I don't think it's a smart idea. The rich bet-layers won't like it."
"So you're not going to work with the others? They'll get by, right?"
"I'll have to play against them. If I beat them… they'll probably starve. There are just too many of them."
Her head drooped even further. "Oh."
Worried about her, he reached out, but she flinched and gasped at his touch. He quickly pulled back. "Sorry!"
She shook her head, slumped down - and laid her head on his shoulder, settling in for the long, troubled time ahead. "The Scientists will -"
"I don't think they're going to do anything," he interrupted, too bitter to continue repeating that hollow platitude.
"Then we will," she whispered, staring down at the dirty stone where their bare feet met. "We'll do it ourselves. I promise. Once we build up some money, once we get on our feet. A month or two, right? We can make it that long. We'll just keep going until then."
He opened his mouth to say something negative, to bitterly resist her silly dream - but he let it pass. It was a nice dream, and he hoped it would come true. He really did. "Yeah, a month or two."
Despair and pain
burned palpably within both of them, separate but shared, demanding answer - but there was nothing more to say.
305
Weakly staggering to his feet with Elizabeth's help, minding the feeling of broken glass in his knee, his painfully swollen arm, and his raw burned skin, he stepped to the side of the boat.
Retreating anxiously to the strongest room in his mental keep, he considered the pillar at hand, judging the best way to climb up unaided. The thick support ran wide enough to approximate flatness from any given angle, but its surface had been purposely left rough enough to scale alone.
But of course, scaling it alone was impossible.
His one good hand faltered in the air. He couldn't quite believe he'd done this all just a week before. Standing in a boat at the Edge, considering a very similar pillar and how to climb it without help, he'd found a hand up from the only stranger in the entire world.
This time, the opposite reached down.
Og's firm grip found his hand, helping him awkwardly clamber up onto the Stonework.
"Gods, you look worse than some of the bodies around here," he commented, grimacing at his intended joke gone awkwardly wrong. "Er, that is to say, -"
He nodded painfully. "It's okay. I'm sure I feel worse than they do, too."
The tall Nord smiled lightly. "I'm glad you're alright." He took a moment to regard his friend happily, and then turned to help Elizabeth up.
Rolf looked past him, scanning the Edge with his bleary near-sighted eyes. Scattered laborers lined the unfinished pillars, but the operation was quieter and less frenetic than the last time he'd arrived.
Some blurry distance away, but still clearly a standout from the others, a giant leaned on his hammer and watched him for a moment.
"He say something to you?" Og asked, noticing.
Elizabeth stepped forward, having gained her feet. "That's how I found you, you know."
He