A Cold and Heartless Lullaby -Chapter 11-

Leper squeezed his eyes shut, vitality flowing through him again as he stood in the swirling night. Above him, the windwheel whirled, and behind him, Kia waited in the hideout.  His battery was about to top off, and Leper savored every moment he could get. What he was about to do was reckless and stupid, but Leper had not waited most of his life to give up so quickly. He was running out of options. The battery pack switched off automatically, and in the quiet, Leper’s vitality was lost to the wind.

Back inside, Kia waited, wrapped in her blanket and watching from the corner with her jerboa lost somewhere in the folds. She hadn’t said anything for a while, but Leper chose to ignore it. He set to work, tweaking his joints and greasing his pistons. Kia watched with a curious tilt to her head. 

He grabbed his rebar spear and made for the front entrance. Part of him regretted leaving Kia behind again. It was hard enough to earn her trust the first time, but if he kept leaving her in the dark, it would become impossible. If only she knew what was out there, Leper thought, then she would have a real reason to be afraid.

…

Swarms of snowflakes glinted as they swirled through the beam of Leper’s light. He could barely see three strides ahead in the flurry, but Leper had no choice. He clipped his spear to his back and took off running. One foot after another, he began to pick up speed, closing in on the perimeter of the city. At full charge, his motors were more than up to the challenge. His pistons were oiled and working well. Mechanical legs powered through the snow underneath him, plowing along like a train. Wind whistled past his sensors, and the falling snow became a blur around him. His arms pumped at his sides, mirroring the motion of his legs as he pointed himself in the direction of the reverant fort. I guess I’m really doing this.

In minutes, the reverant cliffs were standing ahead, outlined by the waylight that glowed blue on the horizon. The wall was simply a darker spot in the silhouette. Leper didn’t slow down as he reached it. He took three steps and launched himself into the air. In a smooth arc, he crashed into the wall, clinging to a crack part of the way up. 

Having been scrapped together from irregular metal plates, the wall offered plenty of handholds for Leper to climb with. His fingers found their way in the glow of his flashlight, hand over hand. For anyone else, it might have been strenuous, but Leper was fully charged, and his pistons made quick work of it.

Halfway up, Leper switched off his light, and his apertures adjusted. Even with the dim waylight on the horizon, his sensors had trouble seeing any detail in the darkness, but he couldn’t risk being seen. Progress slowed. 

When he finally reached the top, Leper proceeded cautiously. A guard passed by, patrolling along the wallwalk. Leper waited, motionless, for the sound of footsteps to fade before clambering over onto the walkway. It would be impossible to avoid the patrol if he tried to find the conventional way down. Leper eyed the drop, calculating the risk. The wall was shorter than it seemed, but it would still hurt. No, let’s be smart about this.

In the dim light, Leper caught sight of a net dangling down the inside of the wall, similar to the one they had dangling from the cliff. He had almost missed it. Boots were approaching, and Leper threw himself off the wall, grabbing blindly. Somehow, he managed to snag something, and his arms jolted painfully in their sockets. Leper ignored it and tried to get his bearings, hanging halfway down the net. 

Little of the fort was lit up at night. Warehouses became deep shadows, labyrinthine in the darkness, as guards patrolled like fireflies with their lanterns. There weren’t many patrols, but their paths seemed random. Leper didn’t want to leave it to chance, he needed a plan. He just didn’t know where to start.

Remember the first rule of the heist. Leper climbed down the net, dropping the remaining distance into a snowdrift. Always have an exit plan. 

Waiting for a patrol to pass, Leper routed to the entrance in his head. It was the one the guards were kind enough to shove him out of during his last visit, a large double door, undetectable from the outside. The moment the patrol’s light disappeared around the corner, Leper made a break for it. In the snow, his footsteps were quiet, and he moved on his toes, creeping through the shadows with a wary eye spared for every intersection. At the entrance he checked that it was unlocked. For good measure, he cracked it open. Hopefully, no one will notice.

Idle chatter caught Leper’s ear, and he ducked into hiding. Another patrol passed, their scrap guns glinting in the lantern light. He needed a better way to avoid the guards. He eyed the warehouse in front of him, following the gutter to the roof as he hatched a plan. As soon as the guards were out of earshot, Leper threw himself at the wall, latching on and climbing to the roof.

Topside, a large, pyramidal skylight glowed with white light, revealing a farm inside. Reverants with protective gear were spraying the plants inside. From his vantage, Leper could see that nearly every warehouse had the triangular skylights. It was a little more exposure than he had bargained for from the ground, but if he was fast, it wouldn’t matter. 

Leper broke into a sprint and leaped from one roof to the next, sailing over the guards in the street below. Asphalt cracked under his feet as he landed, but he didn’t stop. He could see the main warehouse up ahead, and he gunned for it. Glimpses of interiors flashed by him, one roof at a time. The final jump was the longest, and he barely made it, grasping the edge of the roof before he could fall. His legs flailed underneath him, failing to catch a foothold. He was losing his grip. At the last moment, Leper swung his leg up over the lip of the roof and rolled over onto it. Soul pulsing, Leper got to his feet and turned his attention to the skylight.

Everything was as he expected, a massive hoard of ration bags swarming with guards. There was no way Leper was going to get one without some kind of distraction. He scanned the room, looking for something.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

 Leper hadn’t expected guards on the roof. He snatched his spear and struck the guard’s gun right as it fired. The redirected scrap plunged into the glass, and the window cracked. Before the guard could react, Leper swung around and smacked him with the backside of his spear. The guard crashed through the broken glass and plummeted into the bags below. Every guard in the room looked up at the skylight in alarm, and before Leper had a chance to think, they were already heading for the stairs. Well, they’re distracted, Leper thought, soul pounding. Glancing around, he noticed the roof access door in the corner. It was the only way up, and he could already hear the booted hoards clamoring up the stairs inside it. 

He waited until they had nearly arrived before ducking next to the door. It burst open, and Leper was concealed as twenty or more guards came pouring out. They spread out, several of them inspecting the broken glass. Leper waited behind the door, anxiety building as the last guards came through. He had no idea if there were more coming, and he had to act fast before they found him. 

“He’s over there!”

Leper twirled around the door, ducking inside and slamming it behind him. Soul racing, he flipped the lock, but it wouldn’t be enough. He drove his spear between the door and its frame. Guards slammed on the other side with their fists, jolting the door in its hinges. It wouldn’t hold long.

Forced to leave his spear behind, Leper sprinted down the stairs. In moments he burst out onto the catwalk, overlooking the wares. A cluster of remaining guards spotted him from the other side of the catwalk and began shouting. Scraps whistled past and stuck into the wall behind him. The guards ran towards Roman’s office, the shortest path to Leper running right through it. Leper was running out of options. He vaulted from the catwalk and fell like a cannonball into the stack of bags. The pile collapsed, and bags spilled out across the floor, scattering rations everywhere. 

Leper fought to keep upright as the pile destabilized beneath him. He rode it out, grabbing two bags from beneath him and rolling onto the cement. A piece of scrap zipped by and the bag in his left hand split open. Its contents poured out onto the floor and Leper discarded it before taking off running. When he passed through the bay door, the alarm rang out. Church bells, of course. 

With his remaining bag over his shoulder, Leper made for the exit. Patrols were already on the lookout. It was too late for stealth. Leper stopped in his tracks and dashed into an alley, heading towards the corner of the fort. Under a tarp, a row of wheelers remained, and Leper hopped on the closest one, twisting the crank. The legs bent, bringing the wheels closer to the chassis as it lowered into place, the engine bubbling to life and the headlights switching on. There was no time for caution. Leper gunned it.

He burst into the street, the wheeler roaring. The entire fort must have heard him. Wheels leaned hard as Leper cut around a corner, the chassis automatically balancing. Patrols took shots, but he was too fast, and scraps missed by strides. Leper drifted, spitting snow at the guards as he zipped past them. Up ahead, he could see the exit. If he could make it through, Leper would get away. Someone walked out into the streetlight, resting his gun on his shoulder and taking a stance in front of the door.

Roman.

“Go ahead, andron!” he called, holding his arms open, “Hit me! Add to your list of sins!”

Leper’s soul pulsed. He squeezed the gas. Roman stared him down, refusing to move. He’s bluffing. He’ll falter. Lanterns streaked past, and Leper gained speed, closing the distance. His fingers lingered over the brakes. Roman stood, solid as a rock, an emotionless silhouette. Just try me, coward, Leper thought. There were only seconds before impact. Roman took a step back, seemingly by instinct. That was all Leper needed. He squeezed the gas for everything it had. His soul pulsed. Closer. Closer. 

When the headlights illuminated the fear in his eyes, Roman faltered. He jumped out of the way as Leper shot past. In an instant, the door burst open, and the wheeler roared into the night.

The only sound was the wind and the motor, and as Leper switched off the Wheeler’s lights, all he could see was swirling darkness.