Chapter 23: The Levee's Gonna Break

The wagon was packed with crates, but Lily figured there was room for one more. She stepped over water-filled divots in the dirt, trying to keep her burden steady. It held an assortment of little glass medicine bottles.

Maybe Burnett could show Lily what they were for, how to tell…

They’d had to skirt the shattered corpse of the first Crawler; even seeing it still and dark made Lily’s gorge rise. It had held the ceiling up, for the most part, and though the power was failing there had been enough left for Michael to open the doors.

She’d watched Luke's curiosity fade to suspicion as a succession of slurring, static-blurred voices welcomed Operative Echo 1074.

He was not his father's son; that's what Brenna had said. But then again she loved him.

Lily stowed the medicine and jumped down, checking over her shoulder for Michael. Travelling by wagon got them back to the testing base in three days. That wasn't much recovery time.

Michael kept insisting he was fine, and repeated the sentiment as Lily plucked another carton of medical supplies from his hands.

“Careful.” She caught his arm as he stumbled. "You have to take it easy."

"I am," he insisted.

"Sure, and I'm the High Commander of the Coalition. Are you gonna fall out?"

"No." Michael slumped against the side of the wagon. “Ma’am.”

She bit back a smile that died when she saw Luke deep in conversation with Ethan and the others. None of them looked happy.

Michael saw it too. "We knew it was a risk."

"We'll explain." Lily watched Ethan's wild, angry hand gestures. “I’ll explain. I’ll try.”

But Luke was coming their way, stern-faced, and she didn't have any explanation ready. Before she could start, he held up a hand and looked to Michael.

"I know what Operatives are," he said. "My father told me. I grew up hearing the stories. You don't…you're not like that."

"Not anymore." Michael didn't falter. "Never again."

"What are you going to tell him,” Lily cut in, unable to wait another second.

"My father?" Luke smiled weakly. "We're not on speaking terms.”

Michael returned Lily's incredulous glance.

"I'm trying to convince the others. I think it'll be all right. I know you're not a threat." Luke cleared his throat. "I mean. You're not, right?"

Lily could've hugged him. She settled for shaking his hand. "No. We won't stick around much longer, I promise. You won't regret this."

"I hope not," Luke mumbled as he climbed up onto the driver's seat.

Lily clung to the side of the wagon. She wasn't sure her legs would support her. “We might have to leave in a hurry.”

Michael nodded, but Lily knew he wasn’t up for it. Maybe they could steal a horse in the night, ride hard…

The mountains looming over Laketown had to be the ones from the stories, the continent's backbone, stretching all the way down to New Columbia. Their destination might be just on the other side.

—

When they returned to Laketown ahead of the setting sun, they found it preparing for war.

Lily was nestled in with the cargo, lulled to half-sleep by the rhythmic swaying and the low, deep voices of Michael and Luke conversing on the high seat above her. Something about boats.

Then she heard a stunned curse from Luke, and Michael was urging her to wake up, and when she poked her head out above the boxes Lily saw the town's gates closed and barred.

Armed men stopped them a few yards out, one holding a truly decrepit rifle, the other clutching a pitchfork. The first one recognized Luke, but his posture didn’t ease.

“Newton’s gone,” he shouted, waving for his comrades to open the gates. “Survivors have been pouring in for days. It was a horde from the Blight!”

“Nothing’s come that far west in fifty years," Luke protested.

"They're coming now," the guard said darkly. “Bywater’s gone too. You better have what they sent you for.”

Laketown was transformed. The stalls in the central marketplace were gone, replaced with medical stations and anxious people clamoring for aid, terrified and completely lost. Lily caught sight of Burnett gesturing emphatically at a woman with blood on her face and a howling infant in her arms.

She remembered the cannibal once-people they'd encountered out in the freezing sands, little better than animals. Easy to handle in small numbers. En masse, though…

Luke was gone. Everyone was gone, vanished into the chaos. No one would notice if they slipped out, if they just…

The crowd parted. A cluster of people with rifles advanced, Ethan and Alana among them.

“You’re coming with us.” Ethan held his weapon with uncertain hands. He seemed to have figured out where the trigger was, though.

Lily folded her arms. “No.”

“Yes,” Michael interjected, holding out his uninjured hand. "We'll cooperate."

"What are you doing," Lily hissed as the little militia formed up around them, herding them away from the square. He steadfastly ignored her.

She recognized the route to the mayor's house. Luke caught up just before they got there, red-faced and furious. "What is this? Why are you—”

“It’s what's right," Ethan snapped, fumbling with his rifle. Lily heard a round enter the chamber. "Get out of the way, if you don't have the stomach for it."

Luke didn't move. They moved him, roughly and with much effort, and advanced.

"I'll fix this," he promised, following them up the steps, through the red-painted door…

The mayor's house was full. More militia, from the looks of it, some of them battle-worn. They were marched through the crowd and into the little office.

Abbott’s face was twisted and purple with rage.

"You have no right," Lily said. Michael laid a hand on her shoulder. "We haven't done anything wrong—”

"You brought an Operative to my town!" Spittle flew from Abbott's lips. "You lied to me, took advantage of my hospitality—”

"Everything I told you was true," Lily protested. Michael's hand clamped down harder. It wasn't solidarity, she realized: he could barely stand. "We're not Coalition, we—”

“Are you Operative 74?” Abbott snapped, ignoring her.

Michael stared through him, blank-faced with shock.

“The survivors say someone is leading this horde, a man with a scarred face and pale hair who fights like a machine! Another Operative! Looking for you!”

Not possible. If 63 had followed them into the Wasteland then sand had long since drifted over his bones. And yet…

Luke shouldered his way into the room. "Stop this, let them go. They have nothing to do with it, I've been with them since they—”

Abbott jabbed his finger at Michael. “This thing has enough blood on its hands to drown us all. Shut up or get out! Don't speak of matters you can't possibly understand!"

To Lily's dismay Luke chose the second option, shoulder-checking Ethan as he stormed off.

Abbott grabbed an ancient revolver off his desk, a relic that would sooner explode in his hand than shoot straight, spinning the barrel and replacing it with a click.

"Rumor has it your kind don't die," he told Michael, with a distant coldness in his voice. “I despise rumors. Down.”

This last was directed to Ethan, and before Lily could translate horrified realization to action, Alana had pinned her arms and was dragging her back while Ethan pushed Michael to his knees.

Abbott took aim.

"No— wait, listen, I'll help you." Lily pulled forward. “I can help you. Just don't…please don't."

“I don’t need you," Abbott sneered. His finger was still on the trigger. “I could end this with one bullet.”

“You think they’ll just go home if he’s dead?” Lily hated how her voice shook. “Does that sound like the Coalition to you?”

Abbott hesitated. He glanced at her, wet his lips, and looked back down. His finger tightened.

“If you don’t organize and defend yourselves they’ll wipe you out,” Lily pressed. “They won’t stop unless we stop them. I fought this Operative before. Let me help you.”

Abbott stared at her a long while. Then he lowered the pistol. “I’ll consider it. Ethan, put them under guard until tomorrow. And one of you…one of you go and find my son."

—

The commotion on the street broke around them like waves. They were herded into the town jail, a sturdy building with a single cell and a table for watchmen to sit and play cards. No bars, just a thick door with a good lock.

They weren't separated; an unexpected mercy. They were also left completely alone, but through the narrow slit of a high window Lily heard men talking out front.

She drew an unsteady breath as Michael tried the cell door. Her heart still pounded in her ears.

"It's locked," she whispered. "Michael."

He took her by the upper arms. There was an unexpected wildness in his face. “You need to run, as soon as you get the chance. You can still—”

"I'm going to fight." Lily shrugged his hands away. "I'm not running, I won’t leave you.”

It was like he hadn’t heard her. “Go at night. They’ll lose you in the deep woods. Don’t come back here, just—”

She grabbed the front of his shirt and shook him. “I’m not letting you die.”

“It’s better than the alternative.”

Not when the alternative was a gunshot and a black hole yawning open where her heart had been. “No it isn’t. I’m going to kill 63 and come back for you. I’m coming back.”

Michael hung his head and said something quiet, frustrated, and desperate. It sounded like two thousand miles and countless months on a hard road. It sounded like her name.

Lily pulled him down to her and kissed him.

It was clumsy and hard but he kissed her back without hesitation, one hand on her waist and the other cupping the back of her neck. That should’ve terrified her. Instead she felt electrified, too big for her body.

She took a shuddering breath and Michael rested his forehead against hers. “Is this what you want?”

"I don't know," Lily admitted.

His hands slid down her sides and she shivered, waiting for the inevitable. But that was all.

When she touched him there was a slight bracing, as if he expected to be pushed away, and something vital fractured inside her. She leaned into him, and his heart beat double-time against her cheek.

There was something she needed to say to him. A question, really.

The exterior door banged open before she found the words. They both flinched, but it was only Brenna, Luke barreling in close behind.

"I bribed the guards," Brenna said breathlessly, brandishing a set of keys. "We're getting you out of town. A horse is waiting."

"Both of us," Lily stressed.

“Just you.” Luke bounced on his heels, stealing anxious glances at the door. “For now. The men outside are loyal to my father, but I swear I’ll—”

Lily sat down on the narrow cot, folding her arms. “No.”

Michael looked from her to the door and back, and Lily braced herself. He was going to try and convince her again—

"Thank you," he said, with a short-lived smile. "For trying."

Brenna's eyes welled up as she protested, but Luke nodded solemnly and promised to see them in the morning. He would be marching out too.

The outer door shut. He sat down beside her, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee.

"I don't know what I'd do," Michael said. The rest stayed unspoken, but Lily knew it was there.

She didn't know what to do about that, or about the ache in her stomach; she found his hand and squeezed until hers stopped shaking.

"I shouldn't have kissed you," Lily said, with a heavy, uncomfortable mass in her chest. "I don’t know why I did that."

"I didn’t mind.”

She wiped her dry eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm glad I met you."

It came out softer than she'd intended, but Michael nodded. He put his arm around her the way he had down in the armory, a few lifetimes ago.

They stayed that way a long time, without speaking, until the candles burned out.

—

Dawn came too soon. They'd slept side by side in the narrow bed and woke curled around each other, tangled in the thin blanket. Neither of them had much to say about that, or about anything.

Lily pulled her boots on in silence. Michael buttoned up her coat, adjusting the collar even though it already lay flat. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

When Ethan ordered Lily out of the cell, Michael tried to follow.

"Just her," Ethan said. He raised his rifle in warning; someone must have shown him how to hold it.

"Let him come with me to the gate," Lily said quickly. "Please, just until—”

"We have orders," Ethan interrupted. "Just you."

Michael started to say something, and Lily was terrified that it was going to be 'goodbye'. She shook her head as they hurried her out.

"I'll find you when I come back," she promised, over her shoulder. “It's ok. I'll find you."

The last thing she saw before they closed the door was the doubt on his face. Fear, too.

The hardest part came at the gate. Brenna was there saying goodbye to Luke, twisting her green scarf around his neck and tucking the ends into his coat. Lily was good at pretending she wasn't in pain.

Brenna folded her into a tearstained hug. “Look after Luke. All right? I’ll do the same for Michael. We’ll all take care of each other."

“It’ll be fine," Luke assured her.

Lily couldn't force optimism. All she had was determination, and a desperate hope that the newborn militia knew how to aim.

That hope was misplaced.

"Your safety's off," she said wearily, watching Luke examine his rifle.

The early sun shone unkindly on his drawn face and sunken eyes. "I don't…which…" He fumbled with the selector as Lily pointed it out. "Thank you. You've used one before?"

"It's easy. Just aim and pull the trigger."

Ethan walked out with the mayor, examining the uneven rows of tired men and women who'd volunteered or been told to march out. They exchanged a few quiet words, and the mayor gave Ethan a fatherly handshake.

“I tried to stop this,” Luke said.

Lily caught Ethan’s eye and stared until he flinched away. “I know.”

She thought they were going to have to suffer through a speech, but Abbott strode away without sparing them a single glance. With very little fanfare, the militia set off down the logging road, heading east.

Their enemy felt nothing, but Lily could be cold too. All this was happening because they hadn’t killed 63 when they had the chance. She would fix that.

The bullet that would bring him down was already in her rifle. She just had to keep firing until she found it.