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Briar lowered the Spencer, then changed her mind and held it out, ready for any trouble that might come from some other direction. After all, they were in the midst of a large room with several doors, all of them closed. There was nothing to mark this room as different from any other, or as having any particular purpose. It was mostly empty, except for a stack of tables against one wall and a clump of broken chairs that were piled on top of one another and left to collect dust.
“Ma’am,” she asked over her shoulder. “Ma’am, do you need some help?”
The reply came without a drop of patience in it. “No. And don’t touch me, boy. ”
“You’ve been stabbed!”
“I’ve been scratched, and it’s ruined my new suit. Hey,” she said to Briar, tapping her on the shoulder with a bony linger. “If you see a bald-headed Chinaman in a black coat, you shoot him between the eyes for me. That would make me happy,” she fussed.
“I’ll keep a lookout for him,” Briar promised. “Are you the princess?”
“I’m a princess. And I’m mad as hell right now, but we’ve got to get out. If we stay here, they’ll catch us. ”
“We’re on our way back to the Vaults,” Briar said. “Or the tower!” Zeke insisted.
Angeline said, “Either one of those would work, but you might want to head to the fort instead. When the Naamah Darling’s fixed, you can get old Cly to take you out, if you’re looking to leave. ”
Briar frowned. “Cly’s here? At the fort?”
“He’s making repairs. ”
More commotion upstairs told Briar that she’d have to ask about it later.
Zeke asked, “Wait. We’re going back to that ship? With that big old captain? No; no way. I don’t like him. ”
“Cly?” Briar asked. “He’s good. He’ll get us out of here, don’t worry. ”
Zeke said, “How do you know?”
“He owes us a favor. Or he thinks he does, anyhow. ”
Around the bend something fell and broke, and on the other side of the walls, the trundling waves of heavy, rotting feet were beating a gruesome time. “This is bad,” Briar observed.
“Worse than that, probably,” said Angeline, though she didn’t sound too upset. She pulled a big-barreled shotgun out of a quiver she wore on her back, and checked it to make sure it was loaded. The injury in her side oozed, but did not gush when she let go of it.
“You know your way around here?” Briar asked her.
“Better than you folks do,” she said. “But not by much. I can find my way in and out, and that’s about it. ”
“Can you take us out to the Vaults?”
“Yes, but I still think you should head for the fort,” she groused, and pushed Zeke so he wouldn’t help her walk. “Get off me, boy. I’m walking all right. It stings a little, but it won’t be the end of me. ”
“Good,” Briar said. “Because we’ve got problems. ”
From inside the lift, a mournful groan came echoing. Pounding hands beat at the roof above, or from some other spot around the lift’s basket. Then there was a splintering, breaking smash… and they came tumbling inside. One or two blazed the trail, and then they poured in greater numbers through whatever passage they’d forced.
The first three rotters off the lift and into the corridor were once a soldier, a barber, and a Chinaman. Briar pumped the rifle and aimed it fast, catching the first two in the eyes and blowing off the third one’s ear.
“Mother!” Zeke shouted.
“Behind me, both of you!” she commanded, but Angeline wasn’t having any of it and she used her own shotgun to take down the third.
Scrambling hungrily over those three bodies came another round of rotters, half a dozen bodies wide and at least that deep.
“Back!” Angeline cried. “Back, this way!” she said, even as she continued shooting.
The noise in the corridor was deafening, and both Zeke and Briar had heads that were already throbbing. But it was either shoot and aim high or sit down and die; so the women kept firing as Zeke blazed a backward path around the bend, acting as scout and lookout while he tried to follow Angeline’s directions.
