The people on the benches stir. A man gets to his feet and stumbles over to the cage, muttering as he falls down on his knees. He’s followed by two others, then four, then six, then all of them, surging forward to press themselves into the concrete floor.

  The Katerakt doesn’t know what to do with so many people so close. It throws itself at the bars, again and again, and though the metal shakes it makes no sound. Anything within a metre radius is swallowed up and cancelled out.

  ‘He is here!’ the woman with the ram’s head calls to her people. ‘The Prophet has come to deliver us from sin! To show us the path to light! We must let him in, we must let them all in! Break down the walls…’

  Break down the walls. It sticks in my mind only for a few seconds before I realise. She doesn’t mean figuratively. It’s the Flock - they’re the ones that have been blowing up the walls. The crates in the corner, stamped with the Association logo… I’d bet anything they’re explosives stolen from the Pits.

  A hand takes my arm roughly, jerking the bullet hole, and the world goes grey around the edges.

  ‘Use it,’ Tom spits, shaking me. His eyes are wide and wild. ‘The bomb, use it!’

  ‘Get off her!’ Finn snaps, elbowing him away. He’s still maintaining pressure to my shoulder.

  I look down at my pocket. To get both bound hands into there is going to require a contortion that will be painful to say the least. But Tom’s right. I have to use it. I grit my teeth and brace myself to reach down, but we’re out of time.

  ‘Who will be honoured first?’

  The woman with the ram’s head tattoo turns to look straight at Tom.

  Although Tom reacts quickly, throwing himself towards the door, he’s shaky and skittish with adrenaline. It’s easy for one of the men on their feet to reach out and grab him as he passes. Another kicks out the back of his knees, takes him roughly by his bound hands and drags him forward, towards the cage.

  ‘Wait,’ he says, struggling, ‘wait, I don’t—’

  ‘Flesh becomes flesh,’ the woman smiles dreamily, tracing her tattoo with her fingertips. ‘Blood becomes blood. Bone becomes bone.’

  Tom loses it. ‘Not me!’ he screams. ‘Take him! He should go first! He said… he said it was nothing more than a- a filthy animal!’

  The Flock members go still, eyebrows climbing in disbelief. Tom’s ribcage jerks quickly as he looks between them.

  The woman stops smiling and turns to Finn.

  ‘No,’ I say immediately, but my voice is barely more than a croak. ‘No, he’s lying. He never said anything!’

  Why am I even trying to explain? I push my hands towards my pocket, going for the smoke bomb. But my body isn’t working properly. All that happens is that I stagger and end up with Finn’s arm around me again. ‘What are you doing?’ I cry at him. ‘Go! Run!’

  He looks at me with a small, private smile. In his face I see the Finn of five years old, ten, fifteen. The same smile, the same chipped front tooth from when Thesp got us so drunk he slipped and whacked his head off the bar.

  I don’t understand why he’s not moving.

  ‘You can’t do that, Addie,’ he says softly. His green eyes have gone very dark.

  ‘Don’t be a fucking idiot!’ I shove him off me. ‘Run!’

  Finn crouches down and goes for the knife strapped out his leg with brisk, steady movements. ‘You know I’m not leaving you.’

  The screech of the gun being drawn stops us all.

  My heart freezes. The woman’s skinny arm is outstretched, the black nozzle pointing directly at Finn. ‘Drop the knife,’ she commands, spitting the word like it’s salt. ‘Sinner.’

  Finn’s throat bobs. The knife clatters to the floor.

  ‘Wait,’ I say, swaying forward. ‘Wait, it- it should be me. I’ll go. Let me go. I’m the sinner!’

  But they don’t care. I’ve already been dismissed. I’m no longer a threat.

  I still try. I lunge at them when they try to take him, try to drive my knees into their groins, to use my weight to push them over. It’s useless. Once good shove to my shoulder and the world goes sickly and dark, and when I open my eyes I’m on the floor. I watch through the strands of my hair as Finn - stiff, pale-faced, but resolute - is marched over to the cave.

  He’s an idiot. A sacrificial idiot. Why didn’t he run? Why didn’t he at least try? I’m gonna have words with him after this. I’m gonna… gonna tell… tell him…

  I bite down on my lip so hard it bursts into blood. Stay awake, Addie.

  Movement in the corner of my eye. I inch my head to the side as a white-haired man with a large metal rod steps towards the cage. It’s obvious what it’s used for. The hook on the end corresponds to the one on the door of the inner cage. When he pulls it up, the Katerakt will be released into the outer cage - which is where they’re taking Finn.

  My teeth are chattering, even though I’m not cold. ‘Stop,’ I say. It’s barely a puff of air. A pulse of self-hatred flitters through me. Why am I so useless? Why did I go and get myself shot? Why didn’t I realise something was off about Jan?

  Finn’s going to get eaten. And it’s- oh God, it’s my fault.

  I pull my hands out from under my body and get up on my knees, moving on the last tattered shreds of my willpower. Try to get into my pocket, to pull out the bundle of the smoke bomb, but although I manage to grab hold of it, it ends up spilling out onto the floor. I stagger after it on my hands and knees, sliding through the blood pooled on the concrete. My own blood. A rough squeal of metal on metal breaks through the silence. I look up - they’ve opened the outer cage - look down, try to pick the damn thing up but it’s slippy and my fingers are stiff and clumsy.

  I can’t see properly, it’s all blurry. I might be crying, I don’t know. Metal gleams in the corner of my eye, and I scrabble for it. My fingers alight on something cold and hard, and I bring it up to my eyes, panting.

  Not smoke bomb. I stare at the blood-covered ring: tarnished, old, ugly. Klaus’s ring.

  A warm vibration unfurls in my chest, under the skin. Like something’s bubbling up inside my veins and arteries. Something that wants to get out.

  Someone says my name but it’s distorted. I can’t even see the Katerakt, or the cage. Can’t see Finn, or Tom, or the woman. It’s all gone white.

  I grin, dopily, as I start to feel really, really good.

  Then the room explodes.

  There’s something in my throat. I cough weakly. Grit scrapes over the soft parts of my mouth. Whatever it is, it’s in my nose too, and my eyes. Like I’m full of sand. And my stomach aches - worse than when I used to get sick at the Dorms. I’m too tired to panic. I try move, but I can’t, I’m pinned down by something heavy.

  ‘She’s gone,’ floats quietly to my ears. ‘She’s gone, the Peacers are here. We have to go.’

  ‘No!’

  Finn. I try to call out to him. Nothing.

  ‘You want to die too? Is that it? Come on! Stubborn idiot.’

  Shuffling. A grunt.

  ‘You!’ Finn cries, the sound torn from him. ‘You were going to let it eat me!’

  I try harder to raise my head and open my eyes. Somehow it works - and then I wish I hadn’t. Metal gleams in the darkness. A large metal pillar, the width of my forearm. It’s sticking out of my stomach.

  My head bangs back down but I barely feel the impact. I squeeze my eyes shut, nauseous. Am I going to die?

  I don’t even need to ask the question. I am dying. I won’t survive this.

  ‘Get- get off me!’

  Thud.

  ‘Over here!’ Tom calls. I think, for a second, that he’s calling out to me. I don’t have anything left to give him, so I wait.

  ‘Sir!’ Tom yells again. ‘This way!’

  Footsteps. More sound. It all slides into each other. The tiredness doubles, triples. I close my eyes.

  ‘You injured?’

  ’No, sir,’ Tom says. ‘They’d taken me hostage. Him too.’

  ‘Get them in the automobile.’

  ‘Wait,’ Tom says. ‘Sir, I’m not— stop! I work at the University! Check- check my badge if you don’t believe me! I was here doing research!’

  The fuck? I think woozily.

  ‘Get in the automobile… him too…’

  Fading, it’s all fading.

  I don’t know if there is a god. Just in case, I send up a prayer.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Please. Please make sure Finn’s alright.

  Then I’m gone.

  Only I’m not. There is an awful, splitting ache in my stomach, and light returns.

  I sit up, groaning, and spit out a mouthful of charcoal-tasting grey spit. Wherever I am is gloomy and cramped and surrounded on all sides by broken stone. It smells like smoke and brick dust. My eyes grow wide as I look around. My breaths echoes with nowhere to go, quickening as it dawns on me. I shouldn’t panic. Really should not panic but I think…

  I think I’ve been buried alive.

  My trembling hands go to my stomach, where the metal had gone right through me. The tattered remains of my shirt are stiff with dried blood. Had I somehow pulled it out?

  But even I know that would have finished me off. Instead I feel no pain. I feel - fine, actually. Physically. Mentally I’m about ten seconds away from a full blown panic attack.

  There’s no point putting it off. I gather my courage, hold my breath, and yank the fabric away from my stomach.

  There’s no wound. Just the unbroken skin of my own belly, the small white scar near my rib where a drunk gang member had come at me with a knife once.

  I don’t understand. I suck in breath after breath, feeling cold, feeling my head spin, like I’m drunk, only I’m not, I’m very, very sober, and very, very confused.

  Belatedly, I think to check my shoulder. There’s just enough space to raise my arm and prod along my left collarbone. I press my whole palm flat into the area.

  Nothing. No pain, no wetness, no tell-tale heat of blood. No bullet wound.

  I don’t understand.

  An ear-splitting crash comes from above and then light floods into my little stone burial chamber. I cover my face as a cloud of dust and rock fragments rain down, and begin to cough.

  ‘Here,’ someone calls faintly.

  I squint but I can’t see, it’s too bright. ‘Help!’ I shout, my voice ragged. I don’t care if they’re Flock, or Peacers, or whoever. I’m miraculously alive and I would really like to stay that way. ‘Help! I’m down here!’

  The crashing peters out into silence. Then a shadow blocks the light.

  ‘Hello?’ a man’s voice floats down.

  There’s not enough room for me to stand but I manage a half squat, trying to get my head as close as I can. ‘Down here!’ I call with everything I have. ‘I’m trapped!’

  The shadow disappears.

  I try to keep calm, to keep my breathing slow. He’s going to get help, I tell myself, he’s not leaving, he’s just gone to get a rope or something…

  Ten, agonising seconds later, he comes back.

  ‘Hold on!’ he tells me. ‘We’re gonna get the digger over here. You injured?’

  ‘No,’ I croak. It sounds insane, but despite being shot, impaled, and buried in an explosion, I’m fine.

  But where are Finn and Tom? Are they buried somewhere down here too?

  I don’t even want to think about it. I can’t think about it. I need to get myself out first, and then I can figure it out. See if they’ve pulled anyone else from the rubble, even if the thought of it makes me feel cold and sick.

  Then I remember the conversation. Unless I’d imagined it, they’d been talking to someone. Get them in the automobile, they’d said.

  Sounded like Peacers.

  I look back down at the huge blood stain over my belly, the hole in the fabric: evidence that there was metal in my stomach, that that conversation really did happen.

  I hope it did. I’d rather Finn taken by the Peacers than buried down here somewhere, trapped.

  And Tom…

  There’s a loud thump from above and the light widens.

  ‘Look out!’ the man yells as a bunch of small, loose rocks come crashing down. I cover my head, brace myself as they hit. It’s not too bad - the most I’ll have are a few bruises on my arms. The rock falls slows and then stops, and a glint of metal slowly slides down towards me. The ladder hits the rock I’m sitting on and I scrabble to my feet and grab hold of it.

  ‘Can you climb?’ the man asks.

  ‘Yeah,’ I call back, still squinting, and pull myself up.

  I’m surprisingly sprightly - I scurry up the ladder like it’s one of Under’s roofs, and soon emerge from the rubble into daylight. The sky is bright and blue above, shining down on—

  I stare. I’m standing in the centre of vast circle of destruction. Everything in the vicinity has been flattened - far more than just one warehouse. It’s a jumbled mess of stone and metal, like something came along and trampled it all into the ground. The wind whistles along, blowing up clouds of dust, flicking my hair into my eyes. It smells like iron.

  Just how many explosives did the Flock have?

  ‘Holy hell,’ someone says. ‘You should be dead.’

  I turn to see two men - Association workers, going off the uniform and the heavy-duty gloves - gaping at me. The relief at being out in the open, at feeling the breeze on my face, at having survived, makes me feel suddenly teary. I swallow it down and suck in the clean air. ‘What happened?’ I ask them. ‘Did you find anyone else?’

  ‘Yeah, bits of them,’ says the one wearing an old flat cap.

  His friend elbows him in the stomach. ‘You,’ he says, leaning on his shovel. ‘I ‘ent never seen someone so lucky. You got nine lives, girl.’

  Finn got out, I remind myself. He’s out, he’s with the Peacers. I drag my palms over my face and try to collect myself. ‘Are the Peacers here?’ I ask.

  The men exchange a look that I don’t understand. ‘They were,’ Flat Cap says haltingly. ‘They were here yesterday. Caused a right fuss. Then they sent us lot in to clean up.’

  I frown. ‘Yesterday? After the explosion?’ I guess it was still technically yesterday. It was around eleven when the Flock took us.

  There’s a long pause.

  ‘The explosion was two nights ago,’ Flat Cap says. ‘You don’t need to see a doctor or anything? We’ve got a medic on standby, over near the Old Refinery.’

  I shake my head, reeling. ‘I’m fine,’ I hear myself say, but how am I fine? I was buried under there for two days. ‘Thanks. For getting me out,’ I tell them, rubbing at my mouth. Dried blood flakes into the breeze. Then I turn and stagger away.

  ‘Wait!’ Flat Cap calls. ‘What’s your name? There might be people looking for you!’

  I don’t reply; my pace increases. I’m sure there are people looking for me. It’s been two days since I freed Klaus and stole his ring.

  Some buried instinct has me glancing down to my hand. The ring is on my thumb. I’m wearing it.

  ‘Jesus H. Christ,’ Thesp says from his slump at the bar. ‘What the hell happened to you?’

  I’m coming from the Den - a stupid part of me hoped I might see Finn there, waiting for me, but there was no sign of him, or Tom. Still, I’ve washed off the grit, changed into clothes that aren’t shredded, and eaten something. I thought I looked pretty normal, all things considered, but maybe it shows in my face.

  ‘Have you seen Finn?’ I ask and look to Big Jay, who’s half-heartedly polishing glasses. ‘Or Tom?’

  Thesp continues to stare, wrinkled brow raised, but Big Jay shakes her head. ‘He’s not with Rodger?’

  ‘No, he…’ The words die off in my mouth. How do I even begin to explain?

  I think he’s been taken by the Peacers, after the Flock set off the explosives they’ve been stealing to blow up the walls - but it’s not that bad because it actually saved us all from being fed to a Katerakt. Surprise!

  Thesp snorts into his pint. ‘You’re practically glowing, girlie. You finally find a boy brave enough to have a go with?’

  I’m derailed for a few seconds, gawking at him. Then I pull myself together. ‘We got taken last night,’ I say. ‘By the Flock.’

  Big Jay’s rag pauses on the glass.

  ‘They took us to one of the old warehouses. They wanted to, uh.’ I pause, blinking away the sudden coldness at the memory of that awful, thick silence. ‘They had a Katerakt in there, it was—’

  ‘A Katerakt?’ Big Jay blurts, leaning over the bar, eyebrows climbing her forehead. ‘What? Are you serious?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I nod. ‘They had it in a cage. They thought it was a prophet. They were gonna- they wanted to feed us to it.’

  I try not to think too much about it.

  ‘Jesus,’ Big Jay says, mouth open.

  I drag one of the stools out and sit down, suddenly exhausted. ‘I think the Flock are the ones blowing up the walls. They had a bunch of explosives. Someone set them off before they could open the cage.’ I stare at the graffiti scratched into the wood of the bar, the faded, jagged lines. ‘I don’t know what happened, but I woke up alone in the rubble. I don’t know where Finn is. Or Tom. I think they got out. I think I heard them talking to the Peacers - someone was telling them to get into an automobile.’

  ‘The Peacers were in the old warehouse district yesterday,’ Big Jay says, frowning. ‘Was all anyone was talking about last night. They were there to supervise the clean-up - apparently a pipe exploded and a few of the warehouses caught fire.’

  I suppose that’s what they’re telling everyone then. I slump and sigh, then rub at my forehead. ‘So maybe it was the Peacers. Tom was also talking about the University though. He said he was from there, that he was doing research. Maybe it was something to do with—’

  The bar shudders with a loud bang. Thesp has slammed down his tankard so hard ale is dripping onto the floor. Any trace of amusement has fled from his old gnarled face, and his lips are pressed together thinly.

  Big Jay ignores him, looking at me in concern. ‘But are you alright?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I say, and then revise it. ‘I mean, I’m not injured.’ Somehow. ‘I just need to find Finn. If you see him, or you hear of anyone who has, just - let me know, alright?’

  Maybe I should go down to the Association and ask at the Head Office if they’ve heard of anyone getting taken away. But I really don’t want to draw attention to myself like that, especially after Klaus.

  ‘What exactly did that little twerp say?’ Thesp sneers.

  I think back. ‘He just said he was from the University and here doing research. But I might have misheard it.’ An dark, humourless chuckle hacks out of me. ‘I might have hit my head and imagined the whole thing.’ Maybe they’re both buried under the remains of the warehouse. Maybe they’re both already—

  Bang!

  Thesp has hit the bar again. ‘I knew it!’ he crows, a mixture of repulsed and gleeful. ‘I knew that little shit was hiding something! Mid, my arse, that was a Topsider if I ever heard one. And doing research! The bastards! Coming down here and pretending to be some anthropologist - oh, look, how primitive they all are, better write it all up for my dissertation!’ The bar shudders again as he bangs it.

  Big Jay leans forward. ‘That’s something though, Addie, isn’t it? If Tom’s from the University, you know where to find him. And he might know where they’ve taken Finn.’

  I stare at her, bewildered. ‘It’s in Top. How am I supposed to get there?’

  Big Jay shrugs, biting her lip. ‘Maybe the Association can help?’

  I put my head in my hands again and press the heels of my palms into my eye sockets so hard I see stars. I’m not going to get anywhere if I give into the despair. But I just need - just one moment. Since I got out, I’ve been moving on autopilot, rushing to the Den and then rushing here. A stupid part of me thought I might find Finn - that’s he’d spring up from the beat-up sofa when I walked in, or be grinning at me from the bar.

  Stupid.

  ‘If the Peacers have taken him,’ I say into my palms. ‘They’ll enlist him. They’ll send him to the wall to fight - or out on rec.’

  The bar is quiet. They don’t disagree; we all know that’s what Peacers do with people from Under who they catch in the wrong place at the wrong time. It used to be the Pits, now it’s rec missions beyond the wall.

  ‘For god’s sake,’ Thesp says. ‘Don’t be goddamn mopey. Pull yourself together.’

  I raise my head and stare at him. His watery, red-rimmed eyes bore into mine. He has the gall to raise a single scraggly eyebrow.

  ‘Fuck you,’ I say, incredulous. ‘I think this is a pretty good situation to mope about.’

  ‘Not gonna help your brother though, is it?’

  ‘What do you suggest?’ I spit.

  Thesp thrusts his bony chin at Big Jay. ‘She had the right idea. Go up Topside and find the little oik from the University.’

  ‘How? How the hell am I supposed to do that? Shall I hop over the wall? I’m sure it’ll be easy to find Finn full of bullet holes!’

  Thesp rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t get smart with me.’

  I put my head back in my hands before I say something rude and set him off. ‘Really not in the mood,’ I grind out.

  ‘I’ll get you into Top.’

  I sigh, long and hard.

  ‘Don’t give me that. I mean it. I’ve got a badge.’

  It’s only because I vaguely remember Tom mentioning a badge that I bother to look up at him. His grey, hungover face is solemn. It’s not sarcasm, and he’s not joking.

  ‘What?’ I say.

  ‘I’ve still got my badge from when I was a student. It’ll get you into Top from Mid. Probably get you into the campus too.’

  Big Jay and I stare at him.

  ‘You were at the University?’ Big Jay says slowly.

  Thesp scowls at her. ‘I’ve told you this hundreds of bloody times.’

  ‘But you made that up,’ I say, bewildered. ‘Didn’t you?’

  ‘Fuck you,’ Thesp says. ’No. Bastards kicked me out for looking into something they didn’t like. Still got my badge though. Told them I lost it and they were so busy marching me back into this godforsaken rat’s nest that they didn’t check.’

  I still don’t believe it. ‘You can get in with just a badge?’

  He looks at me like I’m an idiot. ‘Well, you can’t go in there looking like a bloody scarecrow. You gotta act the part. But it’ll keep the Peacers off you and get you in through Mid’s gate. If you’re lucky and they don’t look too close.’

  I straighten up on my stool. The shock is hard and heavy in my chest. ‘And you- you never thought to tell us that?’

  ‘What?’ Thesp sneers. ‘You thought I would give it to you so you could go up there thieving and get yourself killed? I don’t think so, missy. You would have been dead within the day. And it’s not that I’m looking forward to giving it to you, you know. I just like the boy better than you, that’s all. And the wall has had enough blood without adding his.’

  My mouth moves but nothing comes out.

  ‘Well,’ Big Jay says, lips drawing back to a gap-toothed grin. ‘Look at that, Thesp. I think there might actually be a decent person buried under all the ale and swearing.’

  Thesp scowls. ‘Fuck off,’ he says. ‘And if that’s you offering a top-up, yes, I’ll take it.’