Chapter 12: On the Run (Patreon)

The early morning sun warmed my back as we weaved through the streets of the poor quarter of Mesina. The Devils were hot on our trail and had been since we left the shack that had been Soren and my home since… well, since forever.

We moved quickly, but the howls and shouts coming from behind did not dissipate. Cantos—the not-so-ironically named ‘Butcher’ and Devils’ leader—must have sent the entire gang after us.

I guess he really didn’t like what we did, I thought smugly, thinking of the fires we’d started in the Black Sewers. With any luck, by the time the Devils managed to put out the flames, nothing would remain of their hideout but a smoking wreck.

Now, though, the gang was hellbent on revenge, and if we weren’t careful, Alon, Soren, and I would be made to pay the ultimate price.

“What’s the plan?” Alon asked, struggling to get the words out. He sounded as out of breath as I was. “Is there one? All we’ve done so far is run!”

“We’ve no choice, we keep going,” Soren gasped, also short-winded. “The Devils will give up—they must. We’re passing through Raccoon territory. Cantos is no fool. He won’t risk a gang war.”

I loved my elder brother, but in this, he was wrong.

Alon and I had raided the Butcher’s base, torched the place, stolen his loot, and worst of all, made him look like a fool. Cantos would not forgive or forget, and I suspected even a gang war wouldn’t deter him if it meant getting hold of us.

“He will!” Alon retorted. “I’m telling you—”

“Save your breath for running,” Soren growled.

“You’re being foolish!” Alon snapped back. “This is madness. We should…”

I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to block out the pair’s bickering. I did not have the energy for it. They had been going at it ever since we’d fled the shack, neither able to agree with the other or let the matter go.

My brother wanted to keep fleeing, and my friend to turn and fight.

Soren believed the Devils were too numerous to face, and he was right about that, but Alon had a point, too. Some of our pursuers were catching up, and we were tiring fast. If we didn’t do something, they’d run us to ground.

I’d deliberately stayed out of the quarrel. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like the pair were going to resolve matters on their own.

It was time to intervene.

“Alon is right,” I panted. “We must slow the Devils, the group out front, at least. We should turn and fight—but only long enough to cut down a few. That’ll make the rest wary.”

Silence.

I didn’t try to plead my case further, though. I knew Soren had heard me and, even now, was considering my words. It was one of the things I loved about him. No matter how set he was on a course, he was always willing to listen.

“Okay,” he conceded finally. “We’ll do it the way you two want, but let’s find somewhere to regroup first.”

“I know a place!” Alon volunteered before I could respond. “It’s close by too.”

“Lead away,” I said, not bothering to argue. Time was of the essence, and Alon knew this part of the poor quarter better than I did.

The big axeman didn’t need telling twice. Feet pounding against the muddy ground, he cut a path through the winding streets before finally swerving left into a narrow alley between two rows of buildings.

Heaps of filth were piled high all along its length, and not unexpectedly, it was empty of people. Like many of the lesser-used streets in the quarter, this one had become a dumping ground.

A poor man’s garbage heap.

I wrinkled my nose—the alley stank—but it was more than the smell that perturbed me. Navigating the piles of rubbish would slow us down, something we could ill-afford.

I more sensed than saw Soren’s frown. He, too, seemed uncertain about Alon’s choice of route. “Where are you taking—”

“Trust me,” the blonde youth said, cutting him off.

Soren glanced at me, and I shrugged. Alon had to have some sort of plan in mind, and when it came right down to it, I trusted Alon. As did Soren, and so without further objection, we followed on his heels.

Weaving through piles of muck, climbing over heaps of junk, and leaping brackish pools of water—at least, I hoped that was what they were—we waded through the street. Halfway through, shouts and cries rose from both ends of the alley.

Some of the Devils had caught up. What’s more, they had boxed us in.

Alon, though, was unbothered. Ducking past an egregious pile of junk that looked like it was about to topple over any minute, he disappeared from view. I frowned. Where had he gone? “Alon…?”

I stopped short as I rounded the heap myself.

There was a jagged opening on the right wall, one not immediately visible from the alley. And beyond it was a courtyard.

As courtyards went, it wasn’t big, but it offered a means of escape from the pursuing Devils, who, from their triumphant shouts, seemed to believe they had us caught.

Little did they know how wrong they were. Smiling, I stepped through the crack and studied the small space.

The sun had come out. Its morning rays danced on the top of the encircling roofs, laying bare the stark surroundings. Directly ahead of us was a large gate that, presumably, led to the street beyond.

On the left, only a single wooden door broke the solid expanse of wall. There was no exit on the right, only more bare wall, but this time, it was dressed in scaffolding that reached halfway to the roof.

I turned to Alon. He had drawn to a halt in the center of the courtyard. “This’ll do,” he murmured, studying it in satisfaction.

Why has he stopped? I wondered and glanced at Soren. He was at the crack, peering into the alley and watching for the Devils. Sensing my regard, he whispered, “Open the gate.”

Nodding jerkily, I rushed past Alon and skidded to a halt at the solid steel gate. Yanking down on the handle, I shoved hard.

The gate refused to budge.

“Alon,” I called, my alarm growing. “Come, help me with this!”

“That’s not going to work,” he replied. “The gate is sealed. It won’t open.”

Spinning on my heel, I advanced towards the only other door in the courtyard, the wooden one on the left wall.

“Don’t bother,” Alon said before I managed more than a handful of steps. “That only leads back into the alley, a few yards in front of where we exited, in fact.”

It took me a moment to parse that, then my gaze jerked to the scaffolding. But it wasn’t tall enough to offer hope of escape.

“You lead us into a dead-end?” I growled. “Deliberately!”

Grinning, the axeman nodded.

“Why?” I asked, my heart sinking. But I suspected I knew the answer already.

“Why? Because this is the perfect killing ground,” he replied, his grin widening.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “But Alon… we don’t even know how many Devils are out there. There may be too many for—”

“It’s only one group,” he said, unperturbed, “and their numbers don’t matter. We can hold off the entire gang from in here.”

“You fool!” Soren snapped. “You’ve killed us.”

“I haven’t,” Alron replied, unmoved by Soren’s anger. “This is the best opportunity we’ll have to destroy the lead group that has been hounding us. They’ve been hard on our heels ever since we fled the shack, even as the others have fallen behind. We’re not losing them—” he looked at me apologetically—“not even if we kill a few. We have to destroy the entire group.”

Alon pointed to the courtyard’s narrow opening. “Thanks to that, they can’t come at us all at once. And with the gate locked, we won’t have to fear being attacked from the rear.”

“There are still too many of them,” Soren ground out from between clenched teeth. “They’ll wear us down, and the locked gate works as much against us as for us. You’ve left us with no way to retreat, you idiot!”

Alon shrugged. “Better to die fighting than running,” He unsheathed his axe. “Besides, we have a player to tilt the odds in our favor. How can we lose?”

“What?” Soren asked, momentarily nonplussed.

My eyes widened. I couldn’t believe Alon had just exposed my secret, and so casually, too. Soren didn’t know I was a player. What with the Devils nipping at our heels, I hadn’t had a chance to tell him yet. Though, if I was being honest, that was only half the reason I hadn’t said anything. The other half was fear.

Fear that my big brother wouldn’t take the news well.

Fear that he would come to hate the thing I’d become.

“I always knew all those blows you took to the head couldn’t be good for you, my friend,” Soren said softly. “Now, your brain has finally gone soft. A player?” He shook his head in unfeigned amazement. “Why would a player help the likes of—”

“Stop it! I’ve had enough of the two of you and your bickering!” I could not let the conversation go on, and not only because of what I feared would emerge. I glanced meaningfully in the direction of the alley. “This is neither the time nor the place.”

My brother lowered his head. “You’re right, El. Sorry.”

Alon chuckled smugly to see Soren so chastened.

I swung on him. “And you. Coming here was reckless.” I held his gaze until, unable to face my glare any longer, he looked away.

I exhaled slowly. “But we’re here now, and there is no going back, and I think I have an idea for getting us out of this mess. Here’s what we should do…”