So, the sparks of a rebellion of the destitute against the privileged have given risen rise to mayhem. Chaos reigns. Flames burn. The City's fate hangs in the balance...
Enough chitter-chatter, though. I hope you guys enjoy this next chapter! Please let me know what you think so far; reviews would be much appreciated :)

Part II: The New Order

Chapter 9

The usually stagnant air in the City was made thick and worsened tenfold by the heavy smoke that refused to lift. By the time Garrett and Isabella arrived at the clock tower, the smoke from the roaring flames that had spread to and now devastated the rest of the City was rousing coughing fits from the both of them.

"I imagine this is how my uncle must have felt when he was bedridden with phthisis." She paused to grasp at the cemented wall, doubled over in a paroxysm of coughing. "Or, perhaps this is worse."

The thin piece of cloth covering Garrett's nose and mouth did little to prevent the smog from entering his lungs, but he was well-versed in suppressing anything that might betray his presence and was able to hold back most of his coughs. He paused, standing rigidly in front of the girl and flexing his fingers while her fit passed. The square was empty for the time being, but he wasn't willing to stay to find out how long it would be until the mob arrived.

Despite there being no one else around, out of habit he stayed to the shadows, effortlessly avoiding the light from the braziers and lampposts. He couldn't help but smirk in amusement when he saw that the girl trailing him was doing the same, or was at least trying to. Her varnished dress shoes prevented any sort of agility beyond trotting whatsoever, to say nothing of the deafening noise they made with each of her tentative steps.

He felt her quizzical gaze on him as he knelt to run his hands along a row of bricks on the bottom of the tower wall. He slipped his finger into the barely perceptible hole in the mortar and flipped the switch on the other side. Metal scraped against metal as the clips bracing the stone panel shifted and the barrier came loose. With a firm push, the section of stones just large enough for Garrett to crawl through gave way. Garrett pushed the barrier inwards and to the side, then entered the hole.

Isabella creased her brows, standing still with an arm raised to her face in an attempt to block out the smothering smoke. She glanced briefly around the square, shifting from foot to foot. Her obvious apprehension was so clear that it was almost tangible.

"I'd assume that someone with malicious intent wouldn't go through the trouble of saving his victim from a prolonged and brutal death," he said flatly before righting himself inside the tower. "But I'm not going to stop you if you'd rather take your chances out there."

"N-no! I didn't assume… I wasn't worried that you would… I-I am grateful for what you did," she stammered. He heard a small sigh, then a sharp inhale as she lowered herself to the ground and pushed herself awkwardly through the aperture.

Upon hearing a small tear as the soft fabric of her dress caught on the rough stone, Garrett hesitantly turned around and offered her his hand. She nodded up at him curtly before averting her gaze to the ground and placing her hand in his. He reached down to quickly free the rich fabric from the rough grittiness of the rocky surface before pulling her to her feet.

"Thank you, " she said. She gently grasped his arm when he began to turn away. "I mean that for everything. I would have died if you hadn't been there earlier tonight."

Garrett glanced quickly at her hand. He felt the warmth from it seep through the leather gauntlet and onto his skin. She retracted her hand quickly when she noticed him staring at it. He hoped that she would take that as a sign to not touch him anymore.

He sidestepped the curious girl to replace the panel in the wall and reset the braces holding it in place. The comforting click of the switch ensured that the entrance to the City was sealed; it was nearly impossible that anyone would accidentally stumble upon the hidden entrance.

Though the air was much clearer inside the tower than outside, it was still musty from a lack of ventilation. This part of the tower obviously hadn't been touched in years. A thick layer of dirt coated the ground, and the rusted debris scattered about from the old clock mechanism was covered in dust. He crossed the small distance to the stairs, the dirt scraping softly against the stone floor with each step.

Upon looking behind him to see if the girl was following, Garrett saw that she barely paid heed to her ripped dress or the dirt streaked across her pale face and hands. That was a first for someone like her.

Garrett ascended the first flight of stairs, the rotten wood creaking perilously under his feet. He gestured to Isabella to keep a few paces behind him. He hadn't used these steps in a while and wasn't entirely sure that they could support both his and her weight. On the second platform, a rat skittered in between his feet and towards the soiled dress shoes behind him. Silence fell, broken only by the faint pattering noise of the rodent scurrying across the floor.

"You're not afraid of them?" He inquired quietly.

She paused for a moment before answering. "People only fear what they find repulsive or threatening. Why should I assume that this little fellow is either when I hardly know him? He's just different, that's all."

He grunted softly in response. Whoever the girl was, she definitely did not belong in a place like the City.

Several more flights up, Garrett heard her footsteps begin to slow. She stopped altogether and hung her head while she panted. "I don't mean to be rude, but… are we nearly there? I'm afraid my legs can't take… much more climbing," she said in between breaths.

Garrett looked over his shoulder at her, his brow creased. They had barely mounted four sets of stairs, perhaps fifty steps at most. She caught sight of his judgmental stare and averted her gaze, a shamed blush creeping across her face.

"Well, it's not exactly as if I have many opportunities to exercise. My father is, or rather was, quite protective of me at times." She swallowed thickly, then lightened her tone. "Do you have a family somewhere out there?"

Growing uneasy about the sense of familiarity the girl had taken with him, Garrett remained silent. Thankfully, she seemed to sense his uneasiness and changed the subject.

"Oh, that's magnificent…" she exclaimed as she raised her head and caught sight of the grand internal workings of the clock. "I'd always assumed - foolishly, I admit - that the city's clock was haunted. People would tell stories - all varying in detail, mind you - about the ghost of the clock tower. One man I met claimed that the spirit of a deceased, old mechanic that used to tend to the clock roams the tower and will continue for all of eternity to keep the clock running. Another told me that inside lives a monstrous but cunning man who lurks in the shadows and uses his wit to lure children out of their homes at night. He'd enslave those poor children and make them run the clock."

"It's ludicrous, isn't it?" She tittered at the recollection. "Though, I suppose the story isn't completely wrong."

Garrett turned his head a fraction, trying to determine whether or not her remark was meant as an insult.

"I didn't mean to say that you are a monster, or abduct and enslave children! I-I just meant that you are living in this tower, and you do have a tendency to stay hidden in the shadows. Well, except for a few nights ago."

Their brief repose from the mayhem of the riot was interrupted by the piercing noise of glass shattering. Having quickened his pace, Garrett reached the uppermost level of the clock tower in mere seconds. He rushed to the broken facing of the clock.

Shards of glass lay sprinkled across the wooden floor, twinkling as they reflected both the bright light of the nearly full moon and the blazing fires. Someone had clearly gotten ahold of a crossbow. The accompanying steel bolt had landed metres away from the gaping hole. Considering the immense size of the clock's facing as well as its high location, though, the missing glass wouldn't be perceptible from the ground. Garrett nevertheless resolved to fix it when he had the time.

Laboured breathing signaled his follower's approach as she finally caught up to him. He sighed, ignoring her questions of whether he was alright or not, and crossed the room slowly to his bed. With an exhausted exhale, he sat down on the mattress and forced himself to relax into the bed. He'd deal with the damage later; for the time being, he needed to figure out what he was going to do about the girl standing a few paces away and looking to him as though he were her only chance of survival. Perhaps he was.

Wanting severely to remove his mask reeking of smoke but hesitant because of the girl's presence, Garrett clenched and unclenched his fists. Her simply standing there was almost intolerable. With a jolt, he was suddenly reminded of another intolerable presence who had a knack of getting into trouble.

"You can sleep here," he said as he rose abruptly from the bed.

"What about you? Where will you sleep?" She asked, backing away from him as he stood up.

"I have some matters to attend to."

Her brow furrowed and her head tilted. "You're leaving? You're actually going out there again?"

He strode past her, ignoring the hand that she was about to extend to stop him but instead retracted as he angled his body away from her. He wondered what gave her the compelling need to touch other people so much.

"I'll be back soon," he said curtly as he swept his legs through the window.

Clearly at a loss for words, her face relaxed and she stood silently in tacit acceptance.

Garrett pushed off of the windowsill with one hand, then with a swish of his cape disappeared into the chaos below.