Page 90 of Throwing Fire

I’m tempted to unload my bag on Match. Then I’m free, to fight, or to carry Kez if I need to. But I’ve got most of the explosives. I’d rather have those on my back than on the back of someone toting a flamethrower.

I help transfer the bag, since Kez can’t see. Take the opportunity to run my hands over her. Her back muscles are taut but not trembling the way they would be if she was too fatigued to keepgoing. Her shoulders sag under my hands and I tuck her against me for a moment. Whisper in her ear, “I’ll carry you if you need me to.”

“Like I’d ever live that down. No way.”

I flick her on the ear before I let her go. Her backbone and her sense of humor are intact. There’s no false bravado to Kez. If she couldn’t go on, she’d tell me.

I bring her in behind me as we set off again. Even the slight drop in resistance of walking in my wake will help her conserve energy. I reach back and touch her wrist. Clasp her hand when she puts it in mine. While I don’t want to be separated from her, while I know Kez can take care of herself and has reserves of strength and resourcefulness equal to some of the commandos I’ve served with, I hate that I’ve dragged her down into these sewers. She was already on the edge. She should be resting, somewhere safe, somewhere clean. Instead, she’s plowing through filthy water, in the dark, wounded, probably with vengeful gator-men slithering along somewhere behind us. All to aid Acker and his rats. Acker better have a good fucking reason behind this, or he may find himself my enemy, whether that’s his aim or not.

The first sign that we’re finally reaching the end of our little trek is a drop in the water level. It slowly frees my knees and shins from its chilly embrace. The red lights appear in the distance, and I hear Kez sigh with relief. Since she can see again, I pull her up beside me. Put my arm around her. She’s shivering steadily, but I think it’s from cold rather than exhaustion. Neither the air nor the water in these tunnels has been warmed by the touch of sunlight.

Ahead, Match turns down a smaller, unlit tunnel and disappears. Acker waits at the mouth of the small tunnel and when we reach him, gestures upwards with his claws. I look up and see Match climbing several meters overhead. He moves fast despite having only one hand. From below, his feet look like they’re sinking into the tunnel wall, so he must be using some kind of hold. I can’t see any ladder.

“I’m last,” I say. Acker can lead Kez up, and I’ll be below in case she slips.

Acker nods and leaps upwards. He catches the wall with one hand and pulls himself up. Give the fucker credit. That’d be a challenge for anyone after our stroll, even without thirty kilos of gear on his back.

I kneel next to Kez and cup my hands to give her a foothold. She shakes her head. “My boots are filthy,” she whispers.

I chuckle. “I’ve had worse than what’s on your boots on my hands, kitten. Geddup.”

She doesn’t need telling twice. She slots her boot into the stirrup of my hands, pushes off with her other leg and grabs at the wall. She scrambles up until she’s got hands and feet secure, then looks back over her shoulder at me. “There are half-moons cut into the wall up here. You can see them up close. My boot’s in the last one,” she whispers.

“Got it.”

I let her get a couple of meters up before I back up two steps and take a running jump. My burning thighs protest, but my muscles are used to being asked for more than they want to give.

It’s two and half meters up the wall. I overshoot by a half-meter, so I’m not trying to pull up myself and the fucking gear just on the strength of one hand. Up close, I can see the crescents Kez mentioned. I shove my hands into two of them and find a spongy bar half-way back in each depression, which makes for a good grip. Once I draw my knee up and find the last crescent with my boot, I look up. Kez is climbing five meters above me. As she pulls her foot out of each crescent, it glows very faintly blue. Following the trail of dim blue half-moons, dragging the gear that feels like a dead man’s weight on my back, I scale the twenty meters to a darkened hatch where Kez and Acker wait to pull me up into a low-lit, round room.

I move a meter away from the hatch, rest the bag against the stone wall, put my hands on my knees and wait for my cramped thigh muscles to stop screaming.

“An’ I thought pushin’ your sister up that wall was tough,” I say to Kez.

She cracks a smile, even as she peers at me with concern. I reach out and give one of her bangs a tweak to show that I’m winded but okay.

“Your knives will probably show more appreciation than she did,” she whispers.

“Yeah, none of ‘em shot me. Twice.”

Kez giggles, then clamps her hand over her mouth and glances at Acker nervously. He holds up his paws. “These are our tunnels.”

“Good to finally reach friendly ground,” I say, putting the emphasis on ‘friendly,’ ‘cause I’m still not sure what the fuck is wrong with him, but nothing about this is feeling friendly.

His mouth twists, and he turns away, beckoning us after him with his claws. I push off the wall, catch Kez’s hand as I pass her, and pull her along as I follow him. He ducks through another open hatch, and I slow so I can whisper to Kez, “You got any reception?”

She shakes her head.

“Then stay sharp. Anything happens to me, you get your ass to Doc Gray and call in reinforcements. No sacrifice plays.”

She bumps her temple against my jaw. “I’ll call in reinforcements but stop telling me to leave you. That’s never going to happen.”

My kitten. As much stamina as a platoon of commandos, and even more loyalty.

I give her a squeeze and let her duck through the hatch ahead of me. Follow her very fine, if stinky, ass through.

Match has disappeared, probably to shower. Kez and I follow Acker through tunnels that quickly stop looking like sewers and become the rats’ natural limestone caves. Acker walks slowly enough for us to keep up, but I could track him by smell. We’ve brought the most pungent part of the sewers with us, and as my nose adjusts to the sweeter air of the rats’ caverns, my own stink begins to weigh on me.

“There needs to be some clean water in our not-to-distantfuture,” I tell Acker. I need all my senses working if we’re in hostile territory.

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