Burn the Skies by K.A. Wiggins

Author:K.A. Wiggins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: young adult dark fantasy, dystopian gothic, paranormal fantasy, ya fantasy, ghosts, sea monsters, paranormal dystopian, contemporary fantasy, gothic fantasy, ya horror, haunted girls, haunted city, ecopunk, solarpunk, climate fiction, climate dystopia, climate apocalypse, canadian author, canadian setting
Publisher: Snowmelt & Stumps
Published: 2021-07-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21: Smuggling

The sound of impending rescue distracts the last remaining enforcer. His shot goes wide, grazing Ravel’s elbow. Ravel jumps, squeezing off the decisive shot from above as he hurdles the barricaded enforcer and keeps right on going.

Reinforcements have arrived. Ravel might catch them off guard enough to get a shot or two in before they overwhelm him. The girl is likely to take a shot in the back if she doesn’t stop gaping and find cover. Liwan—he lunges out of sight just as the first enforcer steps out.

Huh. Maybe that kid has better instincts than I’ve been giving him credit for. But the stunning effects of even a glancing bolt are catching up with him. He staggers, leaning into the wall for support.

Ravel can’t be far behind. Already his steps weave, one arm hanging limp, and he didn’t even get properly hit. Doesn’t stop him from taking out the first enforcer, or the second, who had foolishly poked his head out to stare slack-jawed at the mess of bodies.

The rest of the reinforcements must decide they need a better strategy than hop-out-and-see-what-happens. The door starts to slide shut, bumps into the prone form of the fallen enforcer, and hisses open again.

Ravel stares. The Underfolk girl flanks him, levelling her dual weapons. She blinks. Her arms fall to her sides.

In the distance, Liwan hits the locked door to the prisoners with a strained cry. He sags, wheezing, pulls himself up, and hits it again. Muted cries and thumps filter through from the other side.

But in the open elevator car, all is silent. The only Refuge Force members it brought, out cold on the floor, stunned by the stolen weapons turned against them. And, on a wheeled cot, a silent form, still but for the faint flickering of her eyes behind closed lids, lost in fever dreams.

Ange. Here. No wonder those enforcers had been so inept. They weren’t reinforcements; they were interrupted in the middle of a prisoner transfer. Which means—yes, there. A bare three floors away and closing fast, a second car full of the expected reinforcements.

“Stop staring,” I order Ravel. “There’s more on the way. Take cover—”

He grabs the Undergirl by the elbow and shoves her into the open elevator car. She protests. He reaches down and hauls on the enforcer blocking it from closing.

“You don’t have time for that! Liwan’s too far away to reach you in time. And the rest—there’s no way you can load them all in and get clear before reinforcements arrive. Just take the stairs!”

“How long?” Liwan, overhearing, calls from a corridor away. He hits the door in front of him again and then turns his weapon on the lock, firing twice, barely reacting when a bolt ricochets into his shin.

“What are you doing? There’s no time—hurry!” He won’t make it through another skirmish, not on his own. He needs to get out of here.

Ravel kicks the enforcer’s legs out of the path of the elevator’s sliding door and steps over the body.

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