The Last Mission of the Living (The Last Bastion #2)(95)

“We need to keep going,” Franklin said briskly. “More are coming.”

“How long before the windows or doors give way?” Torran wondered aloud.

“Give me a moment to calculate,” Lindsey said, pulling out her pad again.

“I suggest we start climbing,” Franklin said shortly. To Lindsey’s surprise, the other woman grabbed her arm and jerked her toward the stairs.

“Hey!” Lindsey cried.

“We don’t have time to rest!” Franklin pointed at the Scrags clawing at the windows. Their mouths were spread wide as they shrieked. Lindsey was relieved that the soundproofing of the structure blocked out the sound. “They’re going to get in.”

“There’s still a chain of command here,” Torran said briskly, pulling Lindsey away from Franklin.

Lindsey didn’t like all the jostling and shrugged him off as well. “I suggest we remember we’re all soldiers and survivors and must work together. With two commanding officers, this will get confusing fast.”

“Then I capitulate to your will, since I’m the only SWD officer here,” Torran said. “You’re in charge, Vanguard Rooney.”

Franklin looked ready to protest, then nodded. “I think that works best, too.”

Lindsey was agitated that Franklin even commented. “Fine. Franklin, take the rear. MacDonald, take point.”

Lindsey picked up the remote generator. It was lightweight, but she was tired and stumbled slightly. Torran took it from her and signaled Franklin to turn over the heavy pack she was wearing. The tall woman almost protested, but again relented. It was obvious that Franklin was struggling with maintaining the illusion of being cooperative.

Once Torran had the pack on, he started up the still escalator, his boot heels causing the metal steps to ring out. Lindsey trailed after him, her weapon at the ready. Franklin’s steps were a reassuring sound behind her. At least Lindsey knew she could count on Franklin’s will to survive.

Together, they started the long climb.



*



The ascent was strenuous, but Torran managed to keep a steady pace despite his protesting body. At each landing, they’d rest for a minute or two before continuing. The stairwell zigzagged within the long cylinder and he could only see one section at a time. The muscles in his legs trembled from the exertion, and he was beginning to tire. After everything he’d endured since waking up that morning next to Lindsey, he just wanted to return to his bed and hold her in his arms.

Instead, he climbed.

The arched ceiling of the stairwell was transparent, but it was still difficult to see through. The thick layer of crud obscured the sunlight and shrouded their ascent in gloom.

“The area below us is still clear,” Franklin said as they reached another landing.

This one had a three hundred and sixty degree view of the city. The light was a little stronger in this area, and Torran pressed a gloved hand to the glass and peered out. The snowstorm was definitely moving into the area. Flurries were already dusting the city across the river with white. Tilting his chin down, he saw a sight that chilled him. If not for the soundproofing of the stairwell, he was sure the screeching of the massive crowd of Scrags gathered at the entrance would be unbearable.

Stepping next to him, Lindsey followed his gaze. “Shit.”

“They’re going to break in at some point,” Torran said with a sigh.

“We’re pretty high right now,” she reminded him. “It’ll take some time for them to catch up.”

“But we’re already tired and they won’t,” he answered.

“Bloody hell,” Lindsey mumbled.

“We need to keep moving.” Franklin’s face was grim in the light of her helmet. Her dark skin was flecked with sweat and her black eyes glinted with determination. “We need to keep ahead of them and reach the higher platform.”

“How did the tiltrotor go down?” Lindsey asked abruptly. “How did this happen?”

Torran wished she hadn’t asked such a volatile question.

“Probably a Scrag jumping onto it from the upper city,” Franklin answered smoothly. “I’m sure you’ve seen the vids.”

Torran and Lindsey had both read the reports of the evacuation when putting together the excursion specs. According to eyewitness accounts, the Scrags had flung themselves from the upper city onto departing craft, sometimes with devastating results when they impacted with the hulls. If the damage was severe enough, the aircraft crashed. Franklin had told a clever lie, probably one devised for her mission. It fit perfectly.

“Yeah, I saw the vids,” Lindsey said with a sigh. “I guess that makes sense.”

“We’re close now.” Torran pointed to the underside of the upper city with its crisscrossing maintenance walkways.

“Let’s keep moving.” Lindsey pushed away from the windows and headed toward the stairs. Torran followed, resisting the urge to touch her. The last thing he wanted was for Franklin to discern was his personal interest in Lindsey. He needed Franklin to trust him and not question his loyalty.

The next part of the climb was a little harder. Though they’d observed shoes, coats, purses, bags, and other items discarded on the steps, there were now piles of personal items littering the frozen escalators. They had to kick the rubbish out of their way to keep ascending. For Torran, it was a little difficult to ignore the abandoned toys. It had been awful enough to see the Scrag child, but now he wondered about the fates of the children who had been evacuated to the upper city so long ago. That speculation was hell on his nerves. Though Torran had balked at the idea of fathering children by multiple women when the offer had been proposed to him, he’d started to consider the possibility of fatherhood when he and Lindsey had become increasingly closer in their relationship. The concept of having a child with her had started to appeal to him greatly, but now he wondered if he’d been foolish to even hope.