A/N: Ok, firstly sorry for the delay – uni is back, I'm afraid. Secondly, sorry it's a short chapter – put a lot of work into it though, so I hope you enjoy it.
Thirdly. I really hate to mention this, but would it kill to review? I really appreciate/need the feedback, and I know a lot of you are reading this, and a lot of you have added it to your Faves and Alerts. I know it's a pain, but even just a mark out of ten would be awesome. Massive thank you to those who have reviewed.
Anyway lecture over :) Enjoy the chapter!
Dickensian Streets
By Corralero
Chapter Ten
They were racing across the rooftops in the darkness of the L2 night, jumping from height to height, scrambling up ladders, sliding, chasing on the heels of the man in front, following the aerial path as securely as a hunting run. The vote had been cast against the sewers and underground tunnels in favour of this and so Quatre felt, for the first time ever, the thrill of chasing the scent, running with the pack. Up here, the dim streetlights were golden pools. The filth of the streets, the stench and decay, the oppressive heights of buildings were far below. Up here was clean, the path was clear. No twisting, splintered alleys or tunnels, no stuffy, damp chambers. A pathway above, away from the prying eyes, the shadows and threats. Up here, the wolves ruled.
And suddenly it made sense. A flash of insight and he got it. He could see it, the allure, the call of a gang. Security, belonging, identity. He remembered now Duo and his' fraught journey across L2, the isolation and fear. Stray animals, fair game for the predators. And now the hunted was the hunter. Quatre could feel his confidence rise, buoyed by the men around him. Safety in numbers, as the saying went. Power in numbers as well.
Quatre slowed himself as the gang drew to a stop, grabbing hold of steel piping to slow his progress. Glancing below, chest heaving with exertion, he saw the cause of the sudden caution. They were moving over the tops of warehouses surround a military base. In the floodlit yard below he could see the frantic activity of men, flitting around mobile suits and stockpiles of weapons. Orders and commands echoed up into the shadows where the wolves continued to move softly. Somewhere in the distance, a baying, clamouring howl set up. He chanced a look at Duo, who was leaning against a chimney, waiting to descend to ground level. He nodded grimly and mouthed, "Nearly there."
Quatre nodded in relief. The journey had taken longer than he had anticipated this far.
The ladder they had used for their descent came down onto the far side of the building and was fortunately as far away from the military compound as possible. Quatre nodded to himself in satisfaction as he cautiously descended. So far, all Khan and his men had told him was proving true. He landed lightly in an alley, whose only occupants he could hear scuttling away into the darkness, their tails trailing behind them. Wrinkling his noses, he pulled his feet free from the rotting cardboard packaging they had sunk into as Duo moved over to give him more room. He smiled his thanks, but Duo was not looking at him. Instead he was glaring at Khan.
"Any real reason for driftin' west, then?"
Khan was smirking, apparently having recovered his nerve around Duo.
"Don' fancy a trip down memory lane, Maxwell?"
Scowling, Duo flipped the man off as they moved on. As they slipped silently through the shadows, Quatre watched his friend closely. Duo was moving stiffly, tension raging in his back and shoulders. He was in pain, Quatre was certain of it. He was just debating the wisdom of asking Duo the full extent of his injuries when they emerged into what used to be an old square. Some of its original shape had been retained in the road that ran in front of the alleyway in which they lingered and the sad little row of shops and houses that was dwarfed by newer factory and warehouses. Quatre shook his head disapprovingly at the ill-considered planning, but what drew his eye was one of the strangest sights on L2 yet: the arching lintel and frame of what had once been a doorway stood alone with a steel grey backdrop of a warehouse. A few lonely clumps of broken stone and a small plaque dangling by one nail were the only clues to the mystery of the archway…until he looked at Duo. For the first time since Quatre had first left Khan's room, fleeting expression passed through Duo's eyes. Sorrow, loss, longing. Fleeting, mere seconds but long enough for the thrill of realisation to hit Quatre. Maxwell's Church. One of the gang members, the young spotted blond, laughed.
"Maxwell tragedy, wha' a lorra bull. Only still here coz they couldn' be arsed t'get a bulldozer in - ain't worth even that."
Khan grinned in agreement. "Sounds 'bout right, hey, demon?"
To his credit, Duo didn't rise to the bait, maintaining a stony silence as he stared at the arch and the carved gargoyle resting at it's base. Gunfire blared in the distance and the men shifted uneasily. In silent agreement, they left the little square behind them.
The going was noticeably slower on the ground, and Quatre could feel his spirits flagging once more. L2 was such a miserable place, he decided. It made him think. He had loved his Dickens when he was younger. Still loved the books now, truth be told. His sister continued to root out new titles or editions for them to look at together. He though with a pang of the beautifully illustrated version of Oliver Twist she had given him last time he had seen her. He wondered now what he would see next time he read it. Was Victorian London every bit as miserable and desperate as L2? A sudden smile quirked his lips as a thought struck him. He was as out of place here as Oliver Twist had ever been. And if he was Oliver, that certainly made Duo the Artful Dodger. Sid would have to be Fagin and that would make…suddenly the comparison lost its humour. It would be a narrow decision between Khan and Mendez as Sykes. The whole image was wrong. There was no kindly Mr Brownlow to fall back on. The Artful Dodger was never meant to be defeated and so badly hurt, and Oliver was never meant to carry a gun. It was a twisted, nightmarish version seen through…real life. The streets of L2 were far harder than the Dickensian streets that had been the playground of his childhood imagination. Quatre could almost feel that playground being shut off for good.
Quatre was drawn slowly from his musings as the sound of warning klaxons reaching him, drifting over from the military base they had left behind earlier. He glanced at Duo, who mouthed "Group One". It appeared the decoy movement was succeeding. Further evidence of their success appeared in the distance. Feeling relieved that at least this time they weren't looking for him, Quatre flattened himself against the wall as blue light splattered onto the floor. A mixed formation of mobile suits and police transport wagons glided past in the direction of the wailing klaxons and howling.
An unconscious sigh of relief left the men hidden in the shadows.
Khan opened his mouth to speak and was cut off by blaring alarms, screaming into the men's ears as they instinctively flattened themselves back against the wall. Clapping his hands to his ears, Quatre could just make out a booming detached voice rising above the racket.
"Mobile Suit Units 48 and 49 to the docking yard. Police Squadrons 1, 3 and 7 to the docking yard. All other units stand by…."
Oh no…Quatre felt the breath leave his body as the implications raced through his mind. Squadron 1? That could mean that…And how did they know? Duo's thoughts had evidently taken the same route as he rounded on Khan, eyes blazing with anger, yelling soundless words. But Khan had for once lost his composure and was looking equally surprised. The two stared at one another as the situation sunk in and reached the same conclusion at the same time. Khan whirled around, shoving and kicking his wolves into action as the pack took off. Quatre raced alongside Duo, heart pounding with adrenaline. They needed to get to the docking yard before the troops arrived. End of story. If they got there first they could gain enough cover to ward them off as they refuelled the Gundams. If they got there second, they were going to get killed. He forced his body to run faster.
To Be Continued…