Chapter Seventeen
Seven Steps To the Baron's House
It had been two days since Aiden had watched three men be torn limb from limb on a grotesque stage; two days since he'd witnessed a pair of masked and antlered women march those men to their deaths; two days of not knowing if one of the faces beneath the masks had been Mia's.
And not knowing was like a tiny, condensed private hell that'd grown in a corner of his mind and which wouldn't leave him alone, no matter how hard he tried not look away from it.
Did he tell anyone about it? No. Who was there to tell?
Lawan?
Absolutely not. Her reaction to when he'd mentioned Mia to her was still fresh on his mind, the " Well, isn't that a kick in the balls, equally as infuriating as it'd been true. Yes, he feared what she'd say if he brought it up again. Brutal honesty just wasn't what he needed right now. Or so he told himself.
Frank?
No, again. Frank remained a stranger.
Aitor? He seemed decent enough, but Aitor had already left, gone off to report to his Commander (and then see his family). In that order, which Crane had briefly scoffed at when he'd found out.
Ah, yes.
The obvious choice.
Crane.
Yet another no. Aiden couldn't— wouldn't—drop this on him. Not with everything else Crane had to deal with just now; or how he'd turned into a man of only so many words, sticking mostly to mono-syllable since they'd returned from the Night's Concord. If he didn't have something relevant to say about tonight's plan, he stayed silent. It made Aiden uneasy.
On the other hand, it also gave Aiden an excuse. He'd follow Crane's example, he'd eventually decided, and went on without muttering a single word to a single soul, focusing instead on getting ready, even as the tension of what was about to come kept pulling tighter and tighter.
And now here he was, only a few long hours away from what may eventually turn out to be his last ever night as a living, breathing, (but ultimately sorry excuse of a) brother.
Crane's plan for what could amount to the end to Aiden's eventful life was divided into six steps.
Step One was prep. It'd taken up most of today's cloudy and humid early afternoon and included picking their gear from the Fish Eye's surplus, along with a pile of goodies Aitor had managed to, quote, lose, into the Fish Eye's direction.
It flustered Aiden; to be given so much choice, rather than being content with scraps. Errr— a theoretical choice, to be fair, because while Aiden was busy contemplating on what end of the overloaded table he should start at, Crane began throwing pieces at him.
First up, a thick, long-sleeved jacket. Then a solid mask (not the Church kind of mask, but one for his mouth and nose), a pair of sturdy gloves, and lastly a harness to throw over the jacket, complete with pockets and straps you could hook even more pockets onto.
The colour coordination on the set was an atrocity, to say the least, and the more Aiden thought about it, the more he figured he'd look ridiculous once he'd put it all on.
There was blue, grey, pink, and some kind of bee-striped yellow pattern mixed in. Ah well. Least he'd die colourful.
Least I get to pick my pants, Aiden mused wryly and regarded the the two remaining choices of leg wear. Dark purple or black? Dark puurrple— or black?
Aiden sucked in his bottom lip, then glanced at Crane and his own motions of picking gear for the night.
The idle musing stalled, thrown to the sidelines by yet another one of Aiden's many anxieties rearing its head. His teeth dug into his lip.
Crane had changed.
There was no point denying it or pretending otherwise, no reasoning it away by saying, Hey, he's stressed. He's moody. He's angry. Who wouldn't be, dealing with the shit he's got going on right now?
No, Crane had visibly, physically, changed. And, yes, it unnerved Aiden when he paused to think about it and when he took the time to compare the man he'd met a little under two weeks ago to the man in front of him right now.
Then—before Villedor, before the bite, before all of this—Crane had carried a crossbow on his shoulder. Crossbows were, generally speaking, trouble. You avoided being on the pointy end of them and it'd ultimately been why Aiden had frozen on the spot. And why he'd been scared. Honest to God, clenching his ass-cheeks, scared.
It'd been the crossbow. Not the man. Without the weapon, Crane had looked just like any other Pilgrim, if maybe a bit too well put together all things considered.
Now, contrast the entire thing to today. Had Aiden met Crane for the first time now, without knowing him at all? Just bumped into him by chance?
Well. Aiden would have turned around and he'd walked his clenched ass very far away from him, crossbow or not.
So, yes. Crane had changed.
His skin held an undertone of ash, almost like his colour had begun to wash out, and he wore webs of black veins grasping out from under his collar and sleeves. The latter might have been why he'd chosen a similar long-sleeved jacket as Aiden's, with a tall enough collar that'd conceal the tendrils reaching for his chin.
The worst though? His eyes. Sharp. Intense. And set into bruises that'd collected there overnight, a combination that liked to keep the Fish Eye's people away from him.
Aiden tried to know better.
As in, he tried to convince himself that Crane knew what he was doing. He had to, right? This was manageable, wasn't it?
Who're you kidding?
This was desperate and Aiden was fucking terrified; if not of Crane exactly, then of what'd happen when either of them were deprived of sunlight the next time.
While Aiden began a quiet downwards spiral, Crane finished his prep. He fixed his mask to the satchel he'd swapped his backpack out for, secured the GRE key, and finally checked on his Inhibitor, briefly tugging it out of its pocket like he was making sure it was still there.
"What?" Crane finally asked, not bothering to look at him.
Nothing, Aiden almost answered. Then he thought better of it and ended up sucking his teeth and standing around like an idiot, at least until Crane swiped up a few items he'd set aside earlier and offered them out to him. If shoving them at Aiden's chest counted as an offer.
An Inhibitor and a freshly unsealed Antizin inhaler.
Once Aiden had fumbled to grab them, Crane added two bulky UV flares. They were part of Aitor's donations and had enough heft to them Aiden thought he might be able to bludgeon a very small Biter to death if he really had to.
He squinted at one.
It had a wire wrapped around its UV rod, protecting it from damage (though maybe not from being used as a bludgeon) and a worn out switch seated on the grip.
Okay, so maybe not as much of a flare as a repurposed lamp.
"For emergencies only," said Crane, pointing to the Antizin inhaler. "You see your marker going down, you wait. Don't panic and take a puff when you're like halfway, give it until the last green light, you hear me?"
"I hear you, but why?"
"Because this shit'll wind you and I need you sharp for tonight." Moving off to where Frank had prepped a row of weapons for them, Crane turned his back on him.
Like that was that, moving on, thank you.
Aiden bristled. "I get that and I remember not feeling too hot the last few times I took it. But the alternative is a lot worse, wouldn't you say?" He stashed everything Crane had given him, filling pockets he thought he might not need and being maybe a little too forceful about it all while he fought to control the sudden onset of anger. "I have no doubt whatsoever that you're comfortable with... whatever it is you've been doing when you stayed out the past few nights. Toeing the line. Walking on it. Whatever. But I'm new to this, remember? How am I supposed to know when it's an emergency or not?"
Crane's shoulders tensed. "Think back to the effort it took you to hold back the last few days, even if it meant you got your ass handed to you," he finally said.
"The sparring?"
"Yeah." Crane snatched up a climbing pick, gave it a testing sideways swing, and added it to his belt. The pick's blade and tip had been sharpened to the point where Aiden could see gleaming grooves in the metal. "As long as you're able to maintain that control, you're good. Second you'd fly off the handle, you're not."
"Seriously? That's it?" Aiden didn't bother keeping the sarcasm out of his voice. "I'm meant to believe it's that simple?"
"Hell no, but we don't have time to jam you into a box and find your stress triggers or work out how to counter them, do we? It's the best you'll get for now."
"I'm not reassured. What if I—" Hesitating, Aiden chewed on the words. It was still difficult for him to say them. Make them real. "You know."
"Then we deal with it. Listen, you've been fine for, what, six days now? Chances are you'll be fine for another night." Without turning around, Crane swung his arm back, a recently sharpened hand axe clutched in his fist. "Here. Swap out your axe."
"That's it? We're moving on?"
"Exactly."
Aiden accepted the weapon, though not without muttering a quiet, "You know, I can pick out my own gear." Yes, he'd have probably gone for the same one anyway, but he wasn't about to mention that.
"I bet you can. Here. This one, too."
The blunt end of a pole about as long as Aiden's arm bumped into his chest. "A— you want me to carry a spear?"
"Mhm. Where there's a Hunter, there's nests, and if things go sideways I'll have to know you can keep a Volatile off you. This'll give you a fighting chance."
"I thought me getting my ass handed to me was supposed to do that. You know, teach me a thing or two."
The spear's butt smacked Aiden's chest. "Take it. Then finish suiting up and let's find Hakon. I'm not running late."
Step Two involved heading into Old Villedor, meaning they snuck back in the same way they'd snuck out; avoiding Peacekeepers, Biters, and hurrying through the nest they'd destroyed a few days ago.
That nest with the singular incubation-pod-thing and the mutilated Volatile still stuck in it. It'd begun to rot.
The trip when well enough though — and before Aiden had a chance to agonise himself into breaking the awkward silence that'd followed them ever since they'd left the Fish Eye, they'd made it all the way to Step Three.
Meet Lawan.
To get there, they took a right after they'd climbed from the access hatch and aimed for a corner of Villedor that squashed up against a rocky hill. Or maybe it was a mountain, Aiden wasn't quite sure what turned one into the other. Height? Width? Difficulty to scale? If it was about how climbable the thing was, then this one would definitely qualify as a mountain. Its sides were nearly vertical and it served as a perfect natural barrier separating Old Villedor from the outskirts on the other side.
That was where the solar plant was: through a mountain (or hill) and accessed by means of a sealed tunnel.
'Can't we go around'? Aiden had asked when he'd first heard of this part of the plan.
Hakon had shrugged. 'Sure. It'll take an extra day and you'll choke to death while crossing our contaminated no man's land, but yes we can totally go around. Or maybe you'd like to go below? The PK tried to push through the subway tunnels a few times, but haven't had much luck. Hey, hey, that's not to say it's impossible, we only need to make it through a few hours of pitch black and we might have new dietary requirements by the time we're out the other side, but—' He'd clicked his teeth at Aiden. Unnecessarily.
'Ha-ha. I get it, the tunnel it is.'
Not as if Aiden'd had any say in the plan… Opinions, yes. Weight? None.
(And strangely enough it hadn't bothered him as much as he thought it might, a detail he'd like to revisit later, if given the chance.)
Back to the tunnel.
It sat at the same level as an overpass that circled a good portion of Old Villedor, but they weren't about to find an onramp and walk along it. Instead, they made straight for the tunnel's mouth, which was mostly blocked from view by a sturdy fence tipped with loops of barbed wire. One of the fence's sections had been knocked over, allowing them access once they'd climbed a vertical concrete wall.
The climb was made easy by how they weren't the first ones through today, giving them a conveniently placed rope to work with.
Crane went up first, and by the time Aiden caught up, he heard Crane mutter a dejected, "I hate these places," under his breath.
"Why's that?" Aiden asked more out of an eagerness to keep the silence at bay than anything else. He could figure the rest out himself. He did have eyes, after all, and what he saw made his stomach shrink.
Most anywhere he looked he saw wire fences forming tight pathways, blocked in between containers and concrete slabs. Large, yellow Civilian Migration Checkpoint signs labelled the immediate vicinity at the tunnel's entrance, along with other signage telling people to only step forward when called out to and warning them off at every corner. Aiden stopped right under one of them. It hung a bit crooked.
"Checkpoints my ass," Crane said, tilting his chin towards the nearest sign. "I call them Dead Ends." He nodded on ahead, leading the way up a set of wide stairs. They had to step over the fallen fence section and its barbed wire top, along with two dead Biters, their bodies piled against the stair's edge like they'd been moved aside. They were fresh. Only just dropped. "For all those lives ended here at the peak of the Fall. Shit, they had them in Harran, too, loads of them. Gates, tunnels, medical screening stations… people got led there in droves thinking they'd be able to get help or, you know. Out."
Aiden frowned. The droves were still there, but they'd been reduced to bleached bones peeking out from under dirt, moss and grass. His stomach churned as he caught a glance at a particularly small skull, half of it crushed into the dirt.
"Except it always ends the same. One moment they've got hope, then the military or the GRE seal the place up—" Crane's arm swung to the right, indicating where the overpass they'd stepped onto literally dead ended in a massive gate plugging a tunnel. There was nowhere else to go. The mountain rose to the left, and to the right was the fence (and Villedor's streets). "—and now all those people are caught between guns pointing at them from one side, and gnashing teeth coming at them from the other."
Claustrophobia closed in on Aiden the further they walked into the maze of fenced in paths. He could almost hear the screams and the roar of gunfire bounce off the mountain's side, and feel the weight of countless bodies caught in a desperate press forward. It was so vivid, in fact, he wondered if maybe it wasn't his imagination bringing the scene around him to life (the rows of abandoned cars some way off to the side, the bones, the chaos laid out on every inch of ground), but a memory.
One of the many that only came to visit as nightmares and rarely bothered him while he was awake. Almost as if the light scared them.
A door on one of the containers sitting by the tunnel's entrance opened. The nightmare that'd come to haunt him was dispelled.
Lawan stuck her head out. "Took you long enough," she said, then hopped from the container, her crossbow held to her front and at the ready. "And I see you didn't manage to leave Hakon in a dark zone. I'm disappointed."
"The day is still young, little bird."
Predictably, Hakon's response did not go down well.
"Call me that again and you lose an eye," she snapped back. The crossbow tilted up.
"Easy there, kids." Crane's warning came with a step forward, which put him just enough between them to warrant a glower from Lawan. Did this man like being in the crosshairs? "We need him, remember? If you still want to poke one of his eyes out afterwards, or, hell, both of em—"
"Come on, boss…" Hakon complained.
"—be my guest. But until then he's considered an endangered species. No touching, alright?"
She huffed.
"I take that as a yes. You get the gear?"
Lawan rolled her eyes. "Yeah. And a little extra." She turned around. "Come on out guys. Time for another hike."
Lawan had left the Fish Eye before them, heading out at first light. She'd taken four of Frank's men with her and had headed straight for the Bazaar, where they'd spent the rest of the day on their own preperations.
The four men filed out of the container. Each carried a heavy pack; and not just heavy heavy, but a backbreaking kind of heavy. One look at them was enough to make Aiden's shoulders and spine ache.
Vincenzo came out after them, followed by Alberto (who he was trying to help down the short steps, but who kept swatting at his hands whenever Vincenzo tried to grab his arm).
All according to plan. At least until yet another three faces popped out into the open.
How many people fit into that damn container?
Of the three faces, Aiden only recognised one. She was the Peacekeeper who'd shouted at him back when he'd been locked in a cell, though she didn't wear her blue uniform today. Neither did her friends.
They were armed though. And the two men were almost equally as loaded down as their Fish Eye counterparts.
"Anderson?" Crane didn't sound surprised as much as he sounded put off by a deviation to his (arguably) careful plan. He scowled a bit too, especially once he'd stalked ahead to meet Anderson on their way to the tunnel's entrance.
"Yessir. Aitor said me and my boys are all yours for the day."
"Are you, huh? Isn't that going to get him into trouble?"
She shook her head. "Far as everyone else is concerned we're off duty and whatever after-hours community outreach we get up to is no one's business but our own. But I do have to ask—" Her nose scrunched up. "—what's the play? How do you plan on getting the tunnel open? We've had no luck coming through from this side in years."
Aiden squeezed his lips together and fought a nervous smile. Yes. Death may wait for him, if not at this particular Dead End, then further in or come nightfall. And, yes, he agonised over Mia and over just how long he could keep his Biomarker green, but. He also got to see people gawk when the key came out.
And that made the impending end of his life a little easier to bear.
Crane ignored the solid gate. He walked over to the left, where a similarly thick door had been set into the concrete, and, with his face set in a scowl, produced the key.
"This— thi— thi—" Alberto started the second he saw it and immediately shuffled closer. Everyone did, stoking Aiden's claustrophobia from earlier and having him bite down on his tongue. (But, see? Gawk.) "You have a— a—"
Aiden glanced at Alberto and his frantic motions, like he had a key in a literal lock and was turning it.
"A key?" Vincenzo offered, though he looked at the thing with the same confusion as Aiden when he'd first seen it.
"A GRE one," Anderson filled in for him. "That's what Aitor was being so secretive about when we picked you up, wasn't it? I knew he was holding out on us. The sneaky twit."
Crane didn't humour her with a response. He seated the key, twisted it, and then everyone stared at the panel lighting up. Its glow was faint, barely visible in the daylight, and when a voice began to crawl from speakers (mangled to the point of being barely audible), Aiden got the impression the whole thing was almost out of power.
Thankfully, it still had enough juice left in it to give that familiar clack of its seals releasing and then there they were: with an open door and Step Three almost done with.
Aiden expected complete darkness on the other side. What he found instead was an eerie half-light and deep shadows. The tunnel was open on the other side, allowing in wind and water, and giving Aiden something to aim for as he picked his way forward.
Not everyone went, of course. As soon as they'd opened the door, Crane told the group to wait, then tapped Aiden on the shoulder and jabbed his hand down the tunnel.
"We'll make sure it's clear," he said and so that was exactly what they did, moving carefully through the Dead End's derelict setup and the rows of abandoned ambulances and military trucks.
What they found was underwhelming. Every door to the left was locked (not GRE locked, just, locked locked). The two generators up by the same wall were dead, their thick cables uselessly feeding into whatever command centre this place used to have. And everything that hadn't been bolted down and had any value at all had long ago been looted.
Yes. Of course Aiden looked for things to pick up and carry off. Pilgrims lived off that kind of thing and they tended to get disappointed when they realised a spot they'd thought would set them up for a month (or maybe life, however short it might be) was in fact nothing more than rust, moss, and dirt.
So disappointed, they might even kick at that dirt a little and give in to a quiet pout.
Not that he should have expected any different. This wasn't a virgin spot similar to the lab filled with treasures, but a bitch-to-get to spot which'd been easier to reach back when Villedor hadn't yet folded under the weight of its lights going out and the bombs dropping.
Or so Frank had said. (Yes, Aiden had been doing a lot of listening.)
Used to be people could get here by hiking and using the subway, all options now denied to them thanks to the threat of either choking to death or adopting new dietary requirements (to quote Hakon).
They approached the other end, where Aiden stepped over a line that blurred cloudy sunlight with murky tunnel shadows. Beyond it, Villedor's outskirts fell away in a confused display of gnarly ruins side-by-side with lush green fields and thick woodland.
And that was a literal fell.
The overpass continued here, but not without first having a large chunk sheared away by something a lot more violent and sudden than the elements wearing it down.
It wasn't a wide gap from here to there, but it explained why nothing had moved into the shaded tunnel. It was too 'bright' and open for Volatiles to nest in and Biters wouldn't make the leap.
And then there was the… goop. A breeze carried a whiff of it right up Aiden's nose, scratching down the back of his throat and making his lungs burn. Splotches of sickly yellow and green covered the asphalt and the roofs of abandoned cars; like cracked, pockmarked skin layered over everything.
"Hurts going down, doesn't it?" Crane wandered past Aiden and kept on going until he'd reached the very edge of the drop.
"It's vile," Aiden said with a cough.
"Yeah. Hakon said most of the overpass got caught in the bombing when they spread that shit originally, meaning we won't be able to avoid it while we go over." Crane leaned forward, looking down, and Aiden shuffled up alongside him to do the same.
He regretted it the moment his stomach was pulled all the way to the bottom of the drop, where it landed atop a flooded stretch of rail lines. "Woah, that's— that's high."
"Mhm. See the subway station down there? Or, metro station, whatever."
Aiden's eyes followed the tracks. There was a tunnel nearby, with trains still sticking out of it, and a structure down the other way, further up where the overpass curved off into the distance. The car factory was beyond all of that, spreading out so far, Aiden wasn't sure if it continued past Villedor's massive wall as it loomed in the distance, or just butted up at its base.
He knew he was probably exaggerating, but Villedor had made it a habit of making Aiden feel small.
Anyway. Yes. He saw the station.
Aiden nodded.
"We'll park our friends on the overpass next to it. Then as soon as night hits, we go down there, cross the parking lot, and head into the factory grounds. Our entrance is by the— ah— there, the office, right up front. See it?"
"Distantly."
"Once we're in, we go past the office building, then take one left and enter the first assembly hall at its back. The control room for the entire plant is in there on the second floor. With me so far?"
"We already went over all of that."
"Yeah, we did. But that was over a bunch of papers and toy houses. Not exactly to scale, is it?"
"Guess not."
"And it didn't show us what kinda roadblocks and barricades might've come up or gone down since the last scout made it out here."
"Guess not," Aiden repeated, then coughed on the next inhale, stomping one foot in frustration. His eyes were beginning to water.
"So. Since we'll be up here on the overpass for a few hours, I want you to keep an eye out. Familiarise yourself with what's going on down there and if you see anything that might fuck us over once we're on the ground, or might help us, you speak up. Got it?"
"Yessir?"
Crane scoffed. "Right. Now mask up," he said before he dipped his chin to his radio and gave their friends (a curious choice of words right there, considering how Crane had been treating them the past few days) the clear to come on through.
Lawan led the group through and Aiden counted them as they approached. They still everyone, with the Peacekeepers keeping Alberto and Vincenzo boxed in at their centre, and Hakon taking up the rear behind the Fish Eye's men. After that, Step Four of the plan stretched itself across the overpass in what felt like an endless crawl.
Theoretically, there was more than enough time left in the day for them to make it from here to the spot Crane had pointed out, but in reality the whole thing was a tricky exercise in How to transport heavy gear and an old man over lots of air. And do so safely.
It dragged, though maybe not as long as it could have without Anderson and her crew. They worked tirelessly alongside the Fish Eye's men, eating through the distance one gap at a time and leaving very little work for everyone else. Especially Aiden, who committed himself to what Crane had told him earlier. He kept an eye out. Constantly. All over, too, until he'd literally begun to count the Infected shuffling around below.
Most of the Biters he counted were on the factory grounds, close to the building walls (where they had shade). It wasn't ideal, but since they were going in at night the chances of them being spotted were slim.
By the Biters, anyway. Their eyesight was worse than his own in the dark.
Then there was that group of bulky monstrosities out on the big parking lot. Three Goons, plus a Demolisher. Aiden pointed them out, just as instructed, to which Crane responded with saying they'd be well out of their way, before he made an offhand comment on how they were probably a bunch of unlucky military personnel leftovers from the convoy parked in front of the office.
Aiden chewed on the comment for a little while and realised he'd never actually given much thought on what made someone more likely to stop at Biter or move on to something else entirely.
Maybe he'd ask later. See what else Crane had to say.
If I make it through the night, he thought idly and continued his scouting mission.
And, hey— it wasn't all bad to look at. Yeah, most of the area was in ruins, but the further left he looked (away from the car factory's manufacturing halls), the greener it got. There were still splotches of dead areas tainted by that sickly yellow goop here and there, but most of the area was blanketed in thick green, with the once in a while odd roof peeking through.
Even the solar panel fields were largely undamaged, if a bit overgrown, giving Aiden hope that at least the equipment out there was still good. But what did he know? That was Alberto's deal. The very same Alberto who was being super chatty the entire way and kept stumbling his way through questions about the GRE key and assumptions about what sort of work Vincenzo and he were going to have to do come daybreak tomorrow.
Optimism.
Good for him, right?
Aiden squinted against the sun dipping below the distant wall and sighed into his mask. If only he could borrow some of it.
Step Five involved a lot of (proverbial) patting each other on the back over how they hadn't lost anyone, followed by keeping it that way. Not that Aiden, nor Crane (or Hakon for that matter) joined in on any of that effort. They existed on the sidelines more than anything; three people with questionable futures everyone counted on, and yet no one truly knew what to do with.
Or maybe Aiden was projecting too much of his opinion on everything. It wasn't like he could read minds.
Either way.
The group went to work. They raced what was left of the sunlight, turning a small bus with its windows long shattered into a temporary safe zone, where the portable UV rods Aitor had procured for them would last one night. It was all they'd need. Tomorrow morning they'd either head back home (in the event Crane and Aiden failed and died) or they'd relocate down to the plant (in the event they succeeded, survival optional).
While the group finished their work, Aiden found himself securing the rope he'd be climbing down later. He double checked his knots. Then checked them again. And again, yanking on the rope and leaning his weight into it, until Lawan flicked a finger against his arm, rearranging his scattered attention.
"Yeah?" He let go of the rope and shook out his shoulders. "Need something? Wait— no. Don't tell me. Let me guess." He scrunched his eyes closed, pressed a finger to his forehead, and pretended to be thinking long and hard. Or read her mind, whichever. "You want to tell me I can still back out?"
She scoffed. "Fuck no."
Aiden cracked his eyes open and caught her glancing over to where Hakon and Crane leaned against the hood of a police car with tires so flat, they'd merged with the ground. Crane was busy pointing down into the factory's direction and Hakon nodded along. Their expressions were grim.
"That would make me a hypocrite," Lawan said. "Crane will go whether or not you do, won't he?"
"Probably." Aha, he thought a heartbeat later, the connection to why that'd make Lawan a hypocrite clicking. "And then I'd be no better than Hakon."
"Exactly. So, no, I don't want you to back out. What I was going to suggest is that I come with you."
Aiden's brow furrowed. "Since when do you want to come along? You no longer think this is a suicide mission?"
"Oh no, I absolutely do, but—" She smacked her lips, stared at him, and then quickly looked over to where her group from the Fish Eye were putting the finishing touches on their overnight shelter. Alberto and Vincenzo were inside, their heads visible through the bus's windows, lit by a cold touch of UV light.
Lawan sighed. "It's worth it," she finally admitted. "I didn't think it would be until now, but we've been talking, you know? Passing the time while we put up the lights? And now everyone is going… What if this works? What if after tonight we're not going to be living in darkness anymore? What would we do? Shit, we'd be able to expand the Fish Eye. Or— I don't know, reclaim the metro tunnels and reconnect our holds. And I need to help. I can help."
"Are you kidding? You already did."
"By escorting these idiots? Pscht. I can actually help you. Let me come with you—"
"No," Crane said, since apparently sneaking up on Aiden was just a thing people did these days with impunity. But, hey. At least then Aiden didn't need to be the bad guy who shot down Lawan and got the stink eye for it.
"Fuck off." Lawan brought the entirety of said stink eye to bear on Crane. "Who made you the boss anyway?"
Crane met her glare with the same impassive look he'd given just about anything today. And yesterday. And the day before. (Brief exceptions notwithstanding.) "Me? Oh, I'm just following Frank's orders."
"Frank 's not here."
Some of Crane's impassiveness slipped, revealing a hint of grim fatigue. "Okay. You're not coming because we don't need you."
"Like hell you don't."
" They do," Crane said before she could argue on. His head tilted slightly and his brow rocked into the direction of the bus. "You have no idea what'll happen overnight. Aitor's lights might fail. The whole damn overpass might come down. And when any number of those things go sideways, you're their best chance at making it back home. Frank knows how dangerous this is, how all it'll take is one wrong step and you lose them all. But he also knows that you're more than capable to do this. He wouldn't have agreed to let you lead them otherwise."
"Anderson—"
"I don't trust Anderson."
Aiden's eyes pinched. "Did you just—" insinuate you trust her?, he started, only for Crane to cut him off with a sideways glance.
"The next words out of your mouth are either going to be a yessir or a no sir, I'm sitting this one out."
Aiden's mouth snapped shut. Momentarily anyway.
"Ready?" Crane asked.
Exhaling with no small amount of anxiety making itself at home in his chest, Aiden nodded. "Yessir."
"Great," Crane offered, along with yet another piece of gear for Aiden to carry. A small pry bar, not even the length of Aiden's forearm. "Let's go."