Fiefdom by Fiefdom

Fiefdom by Fiefdom

Author:Fiefdom
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Abaddon Books
Published: 2014-04-16T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter Twenty-One

The Dammed

TWO HOURS TURNED into three. Ezra Pound's group and Oscar so Wild's went underground at a Track Fourteen station northeast of Wittenbergplatz. They were cold and exposed, and fear and indecision drove them to seek shelter.

They posted a sentry outside to look out for Robert Browning's party, but hope of their safe arrival dwindled over the next half-hour.

Dorothy Barker became restless.

"Them, where are they?" she asked Evelyn War.

"Ben Gun, him is with them," said Evelyn. "Them will be here."

Dorothy jumped off the platform where the rest were huddled, some of them dipping into their rations. She paced up and down a hundred metres or so on the track.

"Them are safe," said Walter Sickert in his melodic tones. "Them are outside."

Dorothy stopped in her tracks and glared up at the platform. She could not see the Hearer, but she was aghast at his words.

"The outside isn't –" she began, but stopped abruptly.

They all heard it... the echoes of it, at least.

No one stopped to pack away rations, or to adjust the clothes that they had loosened, or to rewrap their head cloths. They stood, as one, and quickly made their way back to the surface.

They had all heard the rumours and they had all heard the tales. They had all been present when Walter Sickert had spoken of the whistling sounds Them made.

Now, they all heard the echoes of those sounds for themselves. Them were far away. Echoes travelled long distances in the tunnels and the sounds were faint, even to sensitive Aux ears, but the threat was real and mounting.

The Zoo Pack finally met three hours after its departure from Old Zoo. There were many hours of travel still ahead, and already they were dying.

The fastest stretch of the day's journey took Zoo Pack along the old Landwehr Canal. It was unfamiliar territory, but it offered the best opportunity for the Pack to walk in the most compact group, to help each other and move more quickly.

Faster was safer. The ice was deeper, the canal forming a ridge more than a metre higher than the land around it. The ice seemed colder, too, less slick and easier to walk on.

The youngest pups were handed from one surrogate to another for carrying, but the Hearer was borne along by the same four Aux.

He was calmer, much calmer than he had been at Warschauer, but he was weak. The balance of his mind was still delicate, and he was still being treated by the tale-teller.

He was carried in a sling by two Aux, one on either side of him. They changed sides regularly and swapped out for another pair of Aux every half-hour or so. They got into a rhythm with their burden, who was still and light, but a burden nevertheless.

Ben Gun and several of the other Aux remained on the flanks of the large party, scouting the buildings they passed, watching the shadows and listening.

They heard nothing but the moan and creak of the ice and the occasional WHOMP as it fell from roofs, sometimes close by, sometimes at a distance.



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