Chase Sterling's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Two rifles pointed at Chase's chest. The gate ground shut behind the guards. His name sat on their list, and both men knew it. He needed a new way in, and he needed it before the metal doors met. So he did the only thing left. He kept smiling and dropped his hands to his belt. "You want me held for transport," Chase said. "Fine. But look at me first. When did you last see a Registry runner built like this?" The taller guard's eyes flicked down. Chase read the thought at once. Big for a runner. The shorter one lowered his rifle an inch. Chase turned his shoulder into the gray light and let the tight sleeve pull across his arm. "Flex it," the shorter guard said. Not an order now. A dare. "Go on." Chase raised his arm and made a fist. His bicep filled the sleeve. Both men leaned in. Their thoughts crowded together, loose and easy, all of them on his arm and none on the gate. He kept them talking. "Hauled crates twelve years," he said. "You two lift anything heavier than that rifle?" The taller guard laughed. His grip went slack. Chase read the slack hands and the still eyes and knew he had them, at least for a breath. He also knew a breath was all he had bought. He could not walk through a closing gate on charm. He needed the wall. Movement near the far corner. Chase did not turn his head. He had traveled three days beside the woman with spiked hair, and he knew her step even when he could not hear her thoughts. Pink had crossed the east wall so many times the south post never looked up. She had left him at that wall an hour ago rather than risk this gate. Now she was back, low and quick, a knife already in her hand. She did not come for the guards. She came for him. Her eyes cut to the alley she had crossed from, then to Chase, then to the alley again. The message was plain. This way. Move. "Both of you," Chase said, still grinning. "Feel that." He held the arm out. The guards reached, and their eyes left the alley completely. Chase stepped back. Then he ran. He hit the gap between the buildings as the guards shouted behind him. Pink was already three steps ahead, spiked hair bright against the shadow. She did not slow. She did not look back to see if he followed. "You came back," Chase said, breath tearing. "South post," Pink said. "East wall. It's open till dark. Front's dead now." She pointed the knife at the low stone ahead. "Climb." Behind them, boots pounded stone. The front gate was gone for good. Chase had traded it for a wall he could still climb, and a loyal friend. He put his hand on the cold stone and pulled himself up.