SECTION VIII

The rain was pounding on the roof of the shelter, and Lex could no longer hear the crying of the two small boys sitting huddled by the door. The only two small boys left free, so far as he knew. Every other child in the city was a prisoner somewhere, either because of their enforced loyalty to Tribe Fury, or because they had been sheltering in the Mall when it had been overrun. He couldn't believe how easily it had happened; but happened it had. He had gone there himself, as usual, to talk with Luke and Jack and visit with Trudy, for she hated to be so isolated from events in the city outside. He had met with barricades, and shouted messages from figures in unmistakable blue robes. The Chosen had taken the Mall, and with it the children of the city; the children of the free tribes who had agreed to stand together against Tribe Fury. He wasn't sure yet if there was any connection; why would Tribe Fury be working with the Chosen? But it had a suspicious air to it that he couldn't deny, and it weighed heavily upon his mind. His hoped for army of Independents sat around him now - or the hardiest of them did. The others had wandered off, one by one, to think by themselves. He knew what they were thinking, and he supposed that he didn't really blame them. He didn't have any younger brothers or sisters; any children of his own. He didn't know how he would feel if he did, and they were taken hostage. He could only think of the feelings he had begun to experience for the baby that had so nearly been his, but had never been born. From that it wasn't hard to realise that his army was lost. The Independents would not risk the lives of their younger brethren. He couldn't ask them to.

So here they sat, listening to the rain, no longer bothering to listen to each other. The metal roof amplified every drop, causing each sound to echo and re-echo, and he was barely aware of Tai-San's hand gently gripping his. She had been speaking to him earlier, talking of faith and trusting in things to come out right in the end, but he hadn't found any of it particularly reassuring. The situation had been made clear by the guards at the Mall; the Independents were to lay down their arms - if they had any - and sit out any further action. They were to fight no longer, or their loved ones would die. It was all simple enough.

"We should have killed the Guardian." Lex spoke softly, and the rain smothered his words before anybody but Tai-San could hear them. "We had so many opportunities. We could have killed him so many times." His wife's hand tightened its hold upon his for just a moment. "I know." He spoke even more softly now. "I know you always hoped you could reach him. But if he's behind this... if Tribe Fury have joined with him for some reason... You must see how crazy it all is. He's going to get the city again. Take over again. He nearly killed everybody the last time. The man's insane."

"Yes." She leaned closer, and rested her head against him. "But then aren't they all? Out there - Tribe Fury, the Chosen. All of them? They've lost everything. All their humanity, all their connection to the harmony of the universe. It's not healthy, for any of us."

"Yeah." He smiled fondly at her. "Harmony. Sure."

"These things are important, Lex. We are all connected to each other. We are all a part of each other. Tribe Fury kill others, and in the process kill a part of themselves. That's why it would have been wrong for us to have killed the Guardian. You know that, right?"

"I know that the city's gone nuts and that everybody is killing each other. I don't see why I should sit on the sidelines and let it all go on if killing one man will stop it." He smiled at her, gently enough. "But yeah, I know. Killing is wrong. In an ideal world. This ain't an ideal world, babe."

"Lex?" It was Chloe, speaking up from her position nearby. She and KC had been playing a half-hearted game of pick-up-sticks with Michaels, watched by a morose Pride. Lex didn't look up. "Lex? Are we going to have to surrender?"

"Not in this lifetime." He still didn't look up. KC frowned.

"What about Trudy and Brady?"

"What about them? We can't get them out. We can't surrender. If we do, the Chosen will kill us all. They know us. They'd never let us live. The Guardian has tried to kill most of us at some time, and it's not like he doesn't know who we are. At least we know that Brady won't be in any danger from them."

"I suppose." Chloe tossed her sticks aside, effectively ending the game. "Nobody else is going to fight anymore though, are they. Not until we can free the Mall."

"Which is going to be tough. It's easily defended." It took real effort from Pride to draw himself into the conversation. He had been aloof for a long time, lost in his own deep thoughts. In many ways Pride saw the world the way that Tai-San did, and he disapproved strongly of the Chosen, and their method of securing the co-operation of the Independents. It was not right to hurt the innocent just in order to achieve a goal. Lex nodded.

"That's why we chose it as a base. And we've only made it harder to break into since then. They're in the best place."

"But we do have a whole lot of weapons," pointed out KC. Lex nodded.

"Yeah. True. So we bust in there with guns and grenades, and kill all the hostages. Great plan. We need something better than that."

"We need Bray." Chloe looked faintly embarrassed when everybody turned to look at her. "Well they'd let him in, wouldn't they. Bray could walk in there, because he's the one that the Chosen want more than any of the rest of us. Then maybe he could do something. Like..." She was fast running out of inspiration. "Like use knockout gas or something."

"Yeah. Great idea, Chlo." KC grinned teasingly at her, and she abandoned her grown up façade to glare at him, only just stopping short of sticking out her tongue.

"Well it was only a suggestion. I just think he could get them to let him in there, that's all."

"She's right." Tai-San still spoke softly, and the rain did its best to drown out her voice. "I think they would let Bray in. It would probably only be to kill him, immediately or as part of yet another show execution... But they would at least let him in. I'm not sure how we could use that to our advantage, though."

"Especially since we don't know how to get to Bray. I was on the verge of going when all hell broke loose. Now I don't know how I could get through." Lex kicked at a loose piece of flooring, and watched it skid away to send the sticks from the game scattering far and wide. "All those tanks, all those soldiers. It's manic. I suppose he's still alive?"

"We have to assume so, until we learn otherwise. Optimism is more than merely feeling good, Lex. It's a way of shaping the world around you through positive thought." Tai-San frowned. "There has to be a way to find him. Doesn't there? Some way through all of the fighting. The underground tunnels..."

"The underground tunnels are known by the Guardian. I don't think it would be a great idea to use them." Pride was staring into space as he thought, his eyes fixed on inward images of the Mall, and the many terrified children who were trapped there. Of Trudy, whose life would always be at risk when the Chosen were around, and of the fears she must have for the daughter they had always wanted to take from her. "Besides, a lot of them might no longer be safe. All of these explosions, and the tanks, must have weakened their structure. The older ones will be fine still, but the ones that were closer to the surface and made more recently can't be trusted."

"Maybe we don't need to use them anyway. The way everything's been going lately, most of the fighting has just turned to hiding. Everybody is keeping their heads down. We might be able to sneak out." Having always had great faith in his ability to sneak his way around the city, no matter what the dangers going on around him, KC saw no reason to change strategies now. "They're probably not expecting anybody to try walking around out there just now. Have to be nuts to try, wouldn't you."

"Yeah." Lex couldn't deny that. After the guns and bombs and tank fire, who honestly would want to wander around in the city streets? Sometimes it seemed a wonder that the buildings still stood upright, and hadn't all come crashing to the ground. Still, if they had to go out there, they had to go out there. Whether it was to find Bray or not, they were going to have to risk an excursion sooner or later. They were out of food; they had to get some more from somewhere. They also had to do something about the Mall. Whether it was an all out strike or the plan that Chloe had suggested, they had to try something. Leaving the Chosen in control of the place was an insult to all of them.

"The Badlanders still get about, don't they." Michaels, who rarely offered anything to a conversation, unless it was a comment on Fury politics and strategy, looked up now. "They're out there now. Went out to look for food for everybody, or something. If they can get out there, then maybe the rest of us can."

"The Badlanders are sneaky sods." Lex's opinion of his allies grew lower every day, without him ever quite understanding why. "I know that Craig has a bullet-proof jacket, and probably the others do too. They've got a whole arsenal they've been keeping to themselves, too. I've seen it." He smiled faintly. "It's nothing like the size of ours, but at least they're getting to use theirs."

"We'll get our chance." Pride had no enthusiasm in the idea of fighting with such weapons, but he would always do what was necessary, at least whilst he was trapped here in the city. "Not until the Mall is free though. We can't risk all those lives. Maybe we can use some of the guns to help free it, but it would better to be a little more subtle than that. Afterwards, when we've got those kids out, we can break out the guns and-"

"And get mowed down by Tribe Fury." Michaels managed a little smile. "Sorry."

"If you'd rather make a run for it, you're welcome to try," suggested KC. Michaels shook his head though.

"No. If you want to go out there and try to rescue this friend of yours, and if you think that'll help to free the Mall, and all those kids, and then give us a chance to fight back, I'll help you. It's about time I stood up for myself. I've been keeping my head down all this time, and everything's just been getting worse and worse. The Fury civil war, then all those attacks, when they brought the tanks out against us - and now these Chosen people joining in. It really is time to fight, isn't it." He looked terrified, and his voice carried a definite tremor. "I just don't feel terribly confident, that's all."

"Confidence isn't always a good thing." Tai-San smiled gently at him. "Sometimes it leads us to do things that it is not sensible to attempt." She sighed, looking oddly drawn and tired. "But this time, perhaps we all need a little more confidence. Whatever happens, it's going to take all of us to really make a difference now. There can be no more of us splitting up; of Lex going off on his own, or KC and Chloe doing their own thing. We must all work together."

"That's true." Lex sounded more thoughtful than usual. "I have a nasty feeling that if a couple of us go off somewhere to get Bray, then by the time we get back the rest of you will have gone. There are troops going by here making swoops every day, and every day they get a little bit closer. The tanks might have been withdrawn again, but the guns shoot just as straight. None of the others here will stand up and fight. They haven't run out on us yet, but they soon will do." His eyes travelled to the two small boys by the door. They were still crying, though slowly and with not so much force as before. He tried to remember why they were here, and why they hadn't been left in the Mall, but couldn't for the life of him recall who they were. New arrivals who hadn't yet been delivered into Trudy's care? Young kids who had refused to be hidden away out of the line of fire? They didn't look like the latter, with their tears and desperate clinging to one another. It probably didn't matter, all things considered. Whoever they were they would undoubtedly stay there for another day or two, increasingly despondent, until the constant gunfire, the lack of food and the bad weather got to them just that little bit too much and they surrendered. Either that or until Tribe Fury or the Chosen came through and dragged them away. He didn't care; couldn't care. Lex had himself, his wife, his friends, and a Mall full of children to think about, as well as a city to free. Sometimes the civilians just had to take care of themselves.

"We're really going to go looking for Bray then?" Chloe sounded somewhere between delighted and amazed. It had, after all, been more or less her own suggestion. Lex made an unhappy face. Bray. It always had to boil down to Bray. He was the one that the others all seemed to want leading them; he was the one who seemed to be everybody's great hope. It was Bray who could get into the Mall, because it was Bray that the Chosen wanted. Because it was Bray who the city saw as the great rebel. Because it was Bray who everybody knew. All, so far as Lex could see, because it had been Bray who had been amongst the first to be orphaned by the Virus, and Bray who had managed to avoid the government round ups of waifs and strays; who had refused to answer the call up to be trained by the military; who had the fortune - good or bad - to have been the brother of Zoot. It was all luck; and none of it seemed at all fair to Lex. He had never quite learned to live with it.

"Yeah, I guess we're going after Bray," he said in the end. As much as anything else, it was a start. It would increase their little band by at least one; it would reunite them, and possibly make them all a little more optimistic. The Mall Rats had been divided for too long; he only wished that Jack could be back with them, instead of trapped in the Mall alongside Trudy. "But listen; we stick together, we move together, and you all take orders. We might get all the way across the city without running into trouble. We might not see a soul, and everything might go like clockwork. But we also might get shot dead before we make it three feet. So you've got to move fast, and you've got to move when I tell you to move. Got that?" There was an ambiguous mumble in answer, and he scowled. "You people could learn a thing or two from Tribe Fury and the Chosen. Discipline."

"We'll do as we're told." KC sounded faintly sullen. He had never liked being ordered around. The expression on Pride's face said that he liked it even less so. "But you know there's not always time for orders out there, Lex. Sometimes we have to act on instinct."

"Instinct I'm happy with. But not when it splits us up." Lex couldn't forget the night that he and Pride had been separated from Ebony and Bray by a Fury attack. They had run their different ways, and they had been apart ever since, consequently weakened in their attempts to fight back. "We stick together. From here on in, we're a team. Us, and Bray when we can get him. Together we fight Tribe Fury. Together we fight the Chosen."

"Together we die in some firefight," put in Pride. Lex glared at him.

"Yeah, maybe. Better than dying separately, and trapped like rats, right?"

"I guess." Pride stood up, shouldering the battered rifle he had stolen from a Fury patrol several weeks before. It only had a few more shots to its name, but it was better than nothing, at least until Lex finally gave the okay to start using the weapons he had found in Danni's old home. "Then I say we go now. Don't sit around and let the worry start to settle in, so we wind up not going at all. We've got no stores to gather, we're holding all the weapons we've got. Let's just go."

"The weather is in our favour," agreed Lex. "The visibility is down, even if the rain has got less heavy. It won't get properly dark for a few more hours yet, but the sun's already long gone. I doubt it'll be back before sundown."

"We're just going to go?" Michaels looked horribly young and pale, and Lex almost had doubts about taking him along. If the kid froze up again, in the face of gunfire and Fury soldiers, they might all be in trouble; but they couldn't really leave him behind. It wouldn't be fair, especially since they all knew what was likely to happen to the others sitting around in this half-hearted shelter. He nodded, and stood up to stand alongside Pride.

"Yeah. We're just going to go. Right Tai-San?"

"There is no time like the present." Usually she might have liked a few moments to prepare, and perhaps to meditate. To try to generate some positive thought energy, perhaps, so as to do her best to ensure that they had as great a chance of success as possible. Now she just felt that it was better to get moving; better for them all to feel that they were accomplishing something. The last few days had been a time of upset, disappointment, and of general demoralisation. It would be good to be doing something. Lex nodded at her.

"Then there's not much sense in us hanging around, is there." He didn't waste any time in leading them to the door, and stood there for just a moment, looking out into the rain lashed street. The two small boys looked up at him, their tear-swollen eyes making them seem especially pitiful to his jaded mind. He tried to offer them the sort of smile that grown men had once offered him when he was a very small boy, but it had no better effect on them than it had used to have upon him. Instead the boys pressed closer together, and looked even less cheerful than before.

"Are you going?" one of them asked. He looked about eight, and had black hair decorated with bleach in a diamond pattern that matched the yellow and white diamonds both boys bore painted on their faces. Lex shrugged.

"For a bit. Got to find us some food. You're hungry, right?"

"Right." The second boy nodded miserably. "You won't be long?"

"I sure hope not, kid." Lex managed a more meaningful smile this time. "Keep your heads down, and we'll be back with some stores as soon as we can manage it, okay?"

"Okay." It was the first boy's turn with the tongue again. He had unnerving eyes, thought Lex. Almost entirely black, with no discernible boundary between iris and pupil. With the red veining visible in their whites, they looked peculiar. Almost inhuman. Lex could feel those eyes on him long after he had left the building, leading his troops out into the rain.

"We're not planning to be long?" echoed Chloe, rather confused. "But it could take us days to find Bray. We're not going to keep going back there are we?"

"No." Lex didn't look back at her or vary in speed as he hurried them all on through the wet streets. He could hear gunfire, but he hadn't seen anybody yet. That was no reason to slow up though, or to relax. Tribe Fury seemed to be at their most dangerous when they couldn't actually be seen. "We're not going back there. Maybe not ever. I just didn't want to say that. I don't trust anybody, even little kids. And besides, I didn't want anybody volunteering to come with us if they heard where we're really going. It's just us from now on. Just people we know we can trust, until we're in a much better position to take risks."

"We're being suspicious of children who aren't even as tall as your rifles now?" Tai-San sounded disapproving, even if her eyes did show that she understood Lex's attitude. Still he didn't look back.

"Do you know how many lives might be depending on us now, Tai-San? We're suspicious of everybody, until the Mall's free and the city's free, and the Chosen are meeting their god in person. Anybody has a problem with that, I'd tell them to get lost, but we need everybody we've got right now. So hard luck."

"My husband, the charmer." She smiled fondly at his resolute back. "We're right behind you, you know. All the way. You don't have to be so hostile."

"Hostile's my middle name, babe." It was just the kind of answer he always had; just the kind of answer she had expected him to have. Making light of everything, and filled with cocksure confidence. There was none of his usual humour in evidence though; the bravura smile was not there, and she could hear its absence even though she couldn't see his face. "It's not smiles and good vibes that are going to win us this war."

"Maybe." She fell silent and let him lead on, apparently oblivious now to the trail of people following him. The rain stung her eyes and made a mess of the basic tribal make up she was wearing. She could taste it as it ran down over her lips. Quite suddenly, more so than ever before, she wanted all of this to be over. Tai-San had always accepted the way of things; gone with the flow and let the universe lead. Now she didn't want to do that. She just wanted the gunfire gone, and the hiding to be over. She wanted everything to be safe again. Maybe soon it would - or maybe soon it would cease to matter. Either way there was a sense that it must all soon be over; it had to be, one way or the other. She could feel it in the air; see it in the gathering of the storm clouds. There was a sense of inevitability in every raindrop. And for the first time, she didn't care for any of it. She just wanted the world to be at peace.

Amber had spent fully a day lying on the bed in her hotel room, variously staring up at the ceiling and burying her face in her hands. Sasha knew better than to disturb her, though he made some soup once, and left it beside the bed. She didn't touch it. She just lay there, listening to the conflicting thoughts as they danced through her head, and trying to decide what to do. The Guardian hadn't given her any time limits; hadn't said that she had to set out on her mission today, or tomorrow, or even next week. Just that she had to go sometime, or lose her baby son forever.

And in the meantime, such a revelation to comprehend. Bray was alive. She had thought him dead for so long; and hoped and lost hope by turn. How could he be alive? She had told herself so often that it was impossible, but the Guardian knew it. He had told her of the night she had come to the hotel, when he had been watching her from the top floor; how he had seen Bray chasing after her, desperate to prevent her from giving herself up to Tribe Fury. How he had left in the end with Ebony, wandering away like a man broken. She had realised then how it must have looked, as she had walked up the steps, all caught up with Sasha; as though Bray had been the last thing in her mind. Maybe he had been; it was easier not to think of him, after all. There was so much else to think about, too. Hunger, fear, confusion, the hopelessness of tomorrow. And through it all, Eden. Her first thought, her last thought, her pretty much every thought. There hadn't been room in her head for Bray lately. And now he was alive, and she didn't have time to wonder at it, and marvel at it, and rejoice at it, because the Guardian had been waving it at her like a flag. Now she was lying here, trying to put off the moment when she was going to have to go out into the streets, following the directions of an armed escort, to find Bray and bring him in. She knew exactly why the Guardian wanted him. He had his same mad ideas about Zoot as ever, and as ever carried around his paranoid fears about the brother of his supposed 'god'. Amber didn't know what to do, and for once Sasha was no help. There was a moral quandary here for him, for to betray anybody to the enemy was a dreadful thing to do, especially when the person in question was sure to die. He didn't love Bray though; they had never got along. Sasha loved Eden, and when the choice was between the baby and his father, it was not a particularly difficult choice for him to make. Amber knew that it wouldn't be for her either, when it came down to it. How could it be? Eden was her son. He was a part of her, and she loved him more than she had ever loved anybody. More than she could ever have imagined loving somebody. Compared to that, whatever she felt for Bray could not compete.

And so at the end of that day, drained of all feeling save the burning inside her at the thought of being parted forever from Eden, she sat slowly up, drained the mug of now cold soup that Sasha had made for her hours before, and searched for the bag she had brought to the hotel. It was Eden's bag, full, whenever she found the opportunity to fill it, with nappies, cream and shampoo. It hadn't been full until she had filled it at the hotel, and she hadn't had much opportunity to use it since then. Mobile supplies were fairly pointless when it wasn't safe to leave your room. She had a use for it now though, and packed it full of food. A bottle of water just about fitted down the side, then she slung the bag around her neck on its long, padded strap, and turned to the door. Sasha, at whom she had not looked since arising from the bed, was standing there waiting for her.

"You don't have to come," she told him. He smiled.

"Yes I do. I'm not letting you go out there alone, Amber. Especially given what you're going to do. Besides, it could take you days to find Bray. The Guardian didn't seem entirely clear on where he is, and even if they're radioing ahead to make sure that the Furies don't take us out, we'll still have to be careful of the rebels, and of the Independents, if there's any of them left. We'll have to be so careful. I'm not leaving you to do all of that alone."

"Thankyou." She smiled briefly, though it was a smile without emotion to back it up. "I... I appreciate you more than you know, Sasha. More than I've shown you, I think. You're a good friend to have around."

"I'll always do what I can for you." He was so honest, and so genuine, and so supportive, that for some moments she couldn't remember why she hadn't just left with him, when he had made the offer to her some months before. He had been willing to take her away from the Mall, away from all thought of the city. Away from the dangers of Locos and Demon Dogs, fear of the Virus, and away from the dangers that always seemed to gather and descend upon this mad little outpost of humanity. Instead she had chosen to stay; chosen to leave in the end and then return. Return to it all, to help fight the Chosen, and to produce, most unexpectedly, the little boy who was now being held to secure her co-operation. None of it would have happened, to her at least, if she had gone with Sasha. She knew that she loved him, at least in part. The last few months together, ever since he had found her up in the hills, had proved that to her. Now he was choosing to come with her, when he had no need to do so, and risk his life to help protect her son.

"You're a good man, Sasha. Too good, maybe. You shouldn't be here in this city."

"Maybe I won't for much longer. Maybe Tribe Fury will be defeated soon, and I can go back to my old life."

"Maybe." She didn't want to think about that; didn't want him to leave again. But she couldn't stop to dwell upon it now. "Well... come on if you're coming."

"Of course." He opened the door, stepping back to allow her to go through it first. He took the bag from her in the same moment, shouldering it himself instead, then following her out into the hall. "Listen, Amber..."

"Don't." She smiled at him again, but again her eyes were empty. "Don't tell me that you're sorry, or that it'll all work out in the end, or that it's not as bad as it seems, or any of those other things that people tell each other. It won't make me feel any better. It can't."

"Okay." He nodded, understanding as always. "Let's just go then. Get it done."

"Yeah." She couldn't quite meet his eyes then. She felt like the worst of all traitors for setting out on this mission, and she didn't want him to look at her. He reached out and took her hand though, and led the way down the corridor, down the stairs, and towards the front door. A group of the guards that always seemed to be waiting there fell into step behind them, and as one they stepped out into the outside world. They heard gunfire and shouting; saw the line of tanks that defended the hotel. So much madness. This one more insanity; that of betraying a loved one to save another; seemed less mad out here. Less mad, or just less overtly so. Sasha squeezed her hand very gently.

"It's alright." She had never felt less alright, but she knew that she could do this. Knew that she would do it, unless somebody killed her first. Eden's little face floated through her mind, and she felt her heart beat a little faster, a little harder. She had to do this. Maybe, one day - if he survived - Bray would understand. If he didn't she wasn't sure that she could live with herself, even though she knew that she would; because of Eden. Her reason for betraying. Her reason, perhaps, for killing. And always, always her reason for living. Living a life that was so very different now, and could never be the same again.

Time had taken on an ethereal quality in the last day or two. Pinned down by enemy fire, and unable to move, Racha's group were trapped as surely as flies in the strongest web. Having lost some of their best men to the tank attack that had heralded the new wave of violence, they were down on numbers and on morale. A few had been wounded since then, though they had been lucky that it had been only a few. In the constant barrage of gunfire it had grown impossible to think, and they all spent their time sitting or lying around, wishing for better shelter when the rain fell, and trying to find some way to fight back. It was impossible. They were completely surrounded, and only the strength of their position had prevented them from being overrun. With their huge store of ammunition they could keep the enemy at bay, but couldn't quell the rising tide of the siege army that stood against them. Archer swore that they could hold their position indefinitely, as long as the enemy didn't use the tanks again, but nobody else shared his confidence. Racha, usually the epitome of self-belief, had apparently been reduced to outbursts of directionless fury, and no longer appeared to be of use to anybody. If they had had any alcohol, he gave the distinct impression that he would have been soaking in it by then, and he seemed to take no particular interest in anything. Ebony amused herself by winding him up, unleashing his ferocious temper for no reason other than that it was better than the drab, lifeless silences that otherwise gripped them all. Life under constant fire had a grim inevitability about it; a sense that everything could be over at any time. It was impossible to sleep, for some amongst them had to be firing back all the time, and they all had to remain on their guard for snipers and grenade attacks. They had a few food stores, but nobody wanted to eat. Every so often somebody would try to start up a conversation, but it would peter out before it ever really had a chance to begin. Only Ryan seemed ready to match Archer's optimism, although even he failed to believe that they really had any chance. As long as they had ammunition they were in no immediate danger of being taken, but many amongst them had ceased to care. Why bother waiting that long, they argued. Why not just surrender and have done with it? Archer convinced them that their lives would be worth nothing if they did so, but many amongst them still seemed to entertain the idea. It had been only forty-eight hours; perhaps a little more. Clearly something had to happen, or before another day or two had passed, the assembled, disheartened rebels would be throwing down their guns and trying their luck with their former colleagues. Bray tried telling them that their lives would certainly be forfeit as traitors, especially now that something seemed to have happened to Silver - something bad enough to have changed the whole face of the war, and left Racha worried out of his mind for the health of his former friend - but none of the rebels were ready to listen to Bray. He would never be one of them, to his eyes or to theirs.

"How are you doing?" Settling down next to Salene now that his shift was over, Ryan laid aside his rifle and offered his girlfriend a tired smile. She returned it, the strain showing in her eyes.

"I'm okay."

"Sure?"

"No. But I'm better than I could be." She squeezed his hand. "And we're still alive."

"Which is always good." He settled close to her. "I'm sorry. I seem to remember it being my idea that we come back to the city. That probably wasn't a great thing to do, was it."

"Things were less dangerous in the countryside, certainly." She managed a smile, surprising herself with its authenticity. Once upon a time a situation like this would have terrified her into virtual catatonia, but she felt better than she would have expected now. Maybe it was the fact that Ryan was with her, or maybe it was the result of everything else that they had been through giving her a maturity that could help her to cope. It probably didn't matter. She was no fighter, but she felt better knowing that she was unlikely to break down under this new kind of pressure. She just wished that she knew for sure that she would survive.

"Hey Bray." Coming off duty at the same time as Ryan, Ebony threw herself down beside her old friend. He offered her a distracted half smile. "Everything okay?"

"Okay?" This time he managed to make the smile a full one. "Not the word I'd have chosen."

"Really? But everything's going so well. Nothing like a good siege for a bit of entertainment."

"Yeah. Sure." He stared listlessly up at the permanently grey sky. "Great weather, constant gunfire. Everything's perfect."

"That's the spirit." She tossed him her rifle. "You should take a few shots with this. Great therapy."

"I'd rather read a good book." He laid the gun aside. "Not that they're in plentiful supply right now."

"There must be a library near here somewhere, or a bookshop. Didn't there used to be that old college bookstore next to the internet café over there?"

"Internet café?" His eyes drifted over to look at the building, far away across what had once been a smart pedestrian area. "Isn't that the one--"

"That we snuck off to when we were on that geography field trip, yeah." She grinned. "The whole school got dragged out on that trip, remember? Traipsing around town looking at... I don't know. Sewers or something. Zoot was shocked that we'd run off."

"Martin." He said it quietly, and without force. "He wasn't Zoot then."

"You're telling me. But things changed pretty quickly after that."

"Yeah." His eyes were still focused upon distant things, but she could see that it was no longer the surrounding landmarks that attracted his attention. "It was our last school trip. There was supposed to be another one afterwards, for the school cricket team, but I didn't go because my mother was just starting to feel ill, and the cricket coach got sick too. I never saw him again."

"Marley. Jimmy Marley, wasn't it? He was about eighty, but he had a great bowling arm. Poor guy." She leaned closer, trying to hold off actually putting an arm around Bray's shoulders. "We're going to get out of this, you know. We always do, and this is no different."

"Sure."

"We'll get to the hotel, and we'll get Amber and the baby out, and everything will turn out fine."

"Yeah." He conjured up a smile from somewhere. "Just as soon as the twenty of us that are left manage to blast our way through the assembled might of Tribe Fury. That tank attack split us up too much, Ebony. We got scattered all over the place. Who knows how many others even survived? Whoever did isn't going to come running to our rescue. If they've got any sense they're in hiding somewhere, or they tried to melt back in with the opposition. Either way, we're not in the world's greatest situation just now."

"You noticed that?" She smiled faintly. "We've been pinned down by enemy fire for nearly two days, we've got no food, and none of us can move more than fifty yards in any direction. I've been in better situations. I can't remember any that got so bad so quickly, either."

"It's not like you to sound despondent." He finally focused his eyes properly in the present, eyeing her with something approaching concern. It was hard to have a gentle, private moment in the midst of the constant gunfire, when there were so many of them living in such close quarters. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay. I'm always okay. And I'm not despondent." She smiled at him, rather enjoying the moment even if it was caught in the middle of such dire circumstances. "We could die at any moment, and it's not likely that we'll get out of here without a miracle. But I'm not despondent."

"Well I'm glad one of us isn't." He rubbed his eyes, wishing for a let up in the gunfire so that he could go for a long walk, and get away from all of the others. It was easier to breathe when there were fewer people around. "I don't think I've felt really cheerful in... well, in a long time."

"Yeah. Noticed that." This time she did let her arm slide around his shoulders, and unexpectedly he didn't object. He didn't relax into the embrace, either, but he didn't seem to be entirely uncomfortable with it. "Nobody's at their happiest when their city is being occupied by the enemy. Some of us manage to find a reason to smile through it though."

"Some people are just more easily pleased." He frowned for a second, looking up rather sharply. "Did the gunfire just slacken off for a moment?"

"Probably just your imagination. Either that or everybody stopped to reload at the same moment." Her playful smile renewed itself before his eyes. "You're extra jumpy."

"There's a lot to be extra jumpy about." He managed to dredge up another smile in reply. "I just thought I heard a moment of silence, that's all. Or nearly silence."

"You're wishing for quiet. Who wouldn't? This constant noise would get to anybody, especially somebody who likes to be all silent and soulful and solitary."

"I suppose." This time his smile felt a little more genuine. "Not going to go quiet though, is it."

"Not until they're dead or we are, no." She shrugged. "And it's not likely to be them. We've got a hell of a lot of ammunition thanks to Archer being the real boy scout, but they must have us outnumbered five to one. Besides which, they can get more equipment whenever they want it, and we're stuck with what we've already got."

"Thanks for the pep talk." He rose to his feet, looking out across the space that separated them from the enemy, trusting the basic shelter and constant barrage of gunfire from their side, to protect him from being shot. "Really, what would I do without you?"

"You'd probably be dead, so it's an irrelevant question." She stood beside him, wishing that they had just that little bit more in common, so that their closeness might be closer, and her flirtation might stand a greater chance of reciprocation. For a moment, as she stared out across the square, she thought that she saw something moving. She dismissed the thought. The enemy weren't going to try to rush them. It would be insane given the strength of their position. None of them had tried to advance by so much as a step since the siege had begun. All the same, her eyes remained fixed upon the place where she thought she had seen the figures moving. After a second she realised that Bray was staring that way too.

"You see something?" she asked him, wanting confirmation. He nodded very slowly, eyes lingering on bullet-scarred walls.

"Thought so. People?"

"That or the stray dogs have started walking on two legs." She picked up her gun. "I could take some shots in their direction. See what we winkle out."

"You can't shoot at possibly innocent people." He pushed her gun down, and she scowled.

"Remember you thought there was a let up in the gunfire? Well suppose you were right, and our friends out there were letting somebody through? Somebody they didn't want to take the risk of shooting?"

"I thought we'd agreed that was my imagination." He shook his head. "Anyway, you can't just go opening fire. We don't know who they are."

"My guess? The enemy." She sighed. "I'm glad I'm not the good guy. It's way too much hard work."

"You're not so bad." He smiled at her, and although his eyes were distant, she thought that she saw real fondness in them somewhere. She smiled as well. It was a smile that turned to a frown though, for she had suddenly caught another glimpse of the two flitting figures, and it had been glimpse enough for identification. Or so she thought. One female, one male. One blonde, one red-headed. She had seen them last when they had been going into the hotel after giving themselves up to Tribe Fury, but even had she not seen either one in much longer, she would still have known who they were. She would never forget Amber's face. Not with everything that it meant.

"Bray..." she began, uncertain. He frowned down at her. Clearly he had not seen the figures that second time.

"What?"

"Just... I--" Briefly she thought about raising the gun again. So easy. So easy just to lift it and fire. She wouldn't be able to hit them, much less kill them, now that they were no longer in sight; but she might be able to discourage them from coming any closer. Maybe then they would go their separate way, and not come here. Not just yet, anyway; not when Bray had just smiled at her with real warmth in his eyes. They were breaking cover now though, rushing towards them in plain view of everybody, and she knew that she couldn't raise her gun to fire then. Bray was shouting; she heard his voice so loudly, so clearly, even though the rattle of the guns was always so loud. He was yelling for their side to cease fire; he was running, breaking cover himself, and the shots from the enemy camp bounced off the tarmac at his feet. Ebony leapt forward as well, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him back, but he was still standing out there, still yelling, until finally they were getting the message, and the gunfire was easing up a little, on their side at least. And the two people were running closer and closer, and tumbling over the sheltering wall of trashcans and cardboard boxes and empty barrels, and Bray was following them - like a mechanical man, for all the life that there was in his face and his eyes. Ebony wanted to hold him, but she knew that if she did that now, he would only push her away. Not like just a few minutes before. The game was different now.

"Amber?" Bray sounded so tentative that it was almost as though he had forgotten how to speak. He didn't run to her, didn't hug her; didn't do anything but stand very still, the animation still missing from his face. Ebony saw the blonde girl turn, her face so familiar beneath the street dirt, her tightly tied hair showing dark roots and blonde highlights and the suggestion of recent bleach. Recent bleach. Somebody hadn't been slumming it in lousy shelters for the last who knew how many days and weeks. The violent rainstorm that had scoured the city with such force just a few hours previously had left a few marks on the pair's clothes, and made Sasha's usually bouncy hair look a little subdued, but other than that they both looked far better than the rebels they had so suddenly joined.

"Amber!" It was Salene, being so much more spirited than Bray in her words of welcome. "Amber, it's wonderful to see you!"

"Salene!" Giving the girl a quick hug, and sharing the same with Ryan, Amber smiled around at everybody. "I-- I'm so glad I found you. It's crazy out there. I thought we'd never make it."

"But you did." Ebony couldn't resist it. "You made it through all those guys with guns. And none of them shot you. Almost as if they were aiming somewhere else."

"It didn't feel like it to me." Amber looked past her old rival, her eyes alighting upon Bray. There was something odd about those eyes, decided Ebony, but she couldn't quite decide what. "Bray?"

"Amber." It was a curiously lifeless echo of his first voicing of her name. She ran to him then, hugging him stiffly, and without response. Only when she was about to step back did he return the gesture, and then only for a brief moment. He held her at arms length after that, and frowned as though unable to comprehend the situation. "Where's the baby?"

"You know about him." She smiled. "He's safe, Bray. Safe in a little stronghold we have near here. There are a whole lot of us there, and it's safe. Safe, warm, and with plenty of food." She beamed at him. "We were out looking for survivors. I never dreamed--"

"You went to the hotel." He spoke very slowly. It was all too much, too soon. Amber, Sasha, talk of sanctuary. What the hell was going on? Footsteps sounded heavily on the wet ground behind him, and he looked back to see Archer approaching. He was holding his gun, his mirrored shades reflecting Bray's own drawn face, as well as Amber's oddly detached one. Bray muttered under his breath, then turned his back on the approaching soldier, and stared deeply into Amber's eyes. "I saw you. You escaped?"

"You don't think we'd have gone into the hotel if we didn't have an escape plan?" She was smiling at him, her familiar, warm, wonderful smile that he had fallen for almost as soon as he had first laid eyes upon her, way back in long ago days at the Mall. "Of course we escaped. We were so tired, and so hungry, and I needed food because of the baby. He needed to be warm and dry for a while. But yes, of course we escaped. Us and a bunch of others, and we got this sanctuary together. It's underground, but there's loads of space, and we have enough food for all of you, if you all want to come. I don't know how you'd all get past the Furies out there, but there's a weak point in their perimeter, and--"

"And this babbling isn't convincing anybody." Ebony folded her arms. "You want to try the truth for a while, Amber?"

"Shut up, Ebony." Bray was looking confused. Confused and lost. "Tribe Fury stopped shooting for a second. Almost as if somebody was coming through their lines. Somebody they didn't want to shoot." He shook his head. "That wasn't you?"

"Us? Why would it have been us?" She didn't look amazed at the suggestion though, thought Ebony. Not amazed at all. Just... desperate to deny it. Sasha was keeping very quiet, and he wasn't looking at anybody. Something here smelt as bad as the streets, when the sun was at its hottest and the rubbish was festering in all the corners. But Bray had that look in his eyes; the look that said that this was Amber, and that she had come back to him, and that they had a baby son waiting somewhere, yet to have his first glimpse of his father. Ryan and Salene weren't helping, with their soppy expressions, and their big, trusting eyes. She shook her head, disgusted with them all.

And then Archer was there, standing behind Bray, a recently appointed lieutenant on either side of him. Trax and Lindt; one tall, one broad; one bearded, one bald. She hoped they had been chosen for their military abilities, rather than just for their visual impact. They were beginning to fan out, guns at the ready, but Bray, predictably enough, was trying to get between them and Amber. The idiot was going to get himself shot, and Ebony would be damned if she was going to let that happen now. Not after everything they had lived through recently. She stepped forward.

"Problems, Archer?"

"We don't know them." Archer had come to respect Ebony, even if he did still have an impressively low opinion of Bray. "And they were in the hotel."

"Yeah, but so were you, once." She flashed him a happy little smile. "It's okay. Put the guns away. I can vouch for these people."

"Thankyou Ebony." Amber looked rather disconcerted, and Ebony did her best to make that worse by glaring sharply at the other girl. If she was hoping for a flash of guilt, or a crumbling of some uncertain façade, however, she was disappointed. Amber merely moved a little closer to Bray.

"You will come, won't you?" she asked, switching the subject as though Archer and his two heavies had never even approached. Archer was still there though, and he still held a gun pointed roughly at Sasha. For his part Sasha was still quiet. He still hadn't spoken; still hadn't done much at all, save answer the welcoming smiles of Ryan and Salene. Now he was looking at the ground, somewhere in the region of Amber's feet, and playing unconsciously with a home-made musical instrument hanging on his belt.

"This is kind of sudden, Amber." Bray's words nearly caused Ebony to breathe a huge sigh of relief. So he did still have his brain turned on. Sudden? That didn't begin to cover it. The last they had seen of Amber she had been walking into the hotel; now, after all the time Bray had spent punching walls and raging at anything that stood still long enough, fuming at his inability to save her, suddenly here she was. Claiming to have escaped from the hotel - with a baby in her arms?! Ebony didn't believe that for a moment. People didn't just appear in the middle of a siege. They didn't just climb out of the woodwork bringing the promise of food, warmth and shelter to unknown combatants. Not in a city like this, when you could never know who to trust. The only reason anybody would risk doing that was if they already knew who was in the centre of the siege. And there was no way that Amber could have known that without hearing it from someone. Salene was moving forward though, all smiles, all trust, all delight. Ebony could cheerfully have shot her.

"It sounds wonderful," she gushed, her eyes practically tearing up at the suggestion. Salene, Ebony mused unhappily, would never be a commando. "To be warm, and dry. To have something to eat. Bray, don't you think it would be wonderful?"

"Maybe." Bray, who hadn't really had cause to be warm or comfortable since Ebony had thrown him out of the city before all of this even started, didn't sound moved by the suggestion. There was something else in his eyes though, and Ebony didn't need to wonder at what it was. "Eden. KC said the baby was called Eden."

"KC's here too?" Amber was looking around, surprised, but snapped her eyes back to Bray soon enough. "Yes. He's beautiful, Bray. So beautiful. I've done the best I could for him, and I'm sorry about naming him without you, but I wasn't even sure that you were alive. You should come and see him. A son should see his father. He looks like you."

"Nobody's leaving." Archer spoke with the voice of cold authority, and Ebony could almost have kissed him. She tried to move closer to Bray; tried to get into a position from which she might be able to surreptitiously share her concerns, but Amber was in the way, and Trax, and increasingly Salene as well. A conspiracy of bodies, thwarting her attempts. Mutiny flashed in Bray's eyes; mutiny and worry. Confusion. Everything was going too fast for him too, Ebony could see; but whether or not he would act on that, or just blindly accept what Amber was saying, she couldn't yet guess. One could never tell, with Bray.

"There's no danger." Amber sounded almost desperate; speaking so quickly that it barely seemed like a natural reaction. "The shelter's great, there's food for everybody who wants it. You should see your son, Bray."

"Every father should see his son." The voice took them all by surprise; they all turned to look at Racha as he came towards them. He was unshaven, his formerly neat clothing now battered by the weather, and the days of hiding in filthy shelters. His warm black eyes seemed faintly unfocused; unnaturally bright, and filled with sights of his own making. Racha was not the man he had been recently. He was lost in his own world now, thinking almost exclusively of Silver, and worrying about the friend he had chosen to fight. He put a hand on Bray's shoulder, eyeing Amber almost as a rival, but with a genuine interest. "You were inside the hotel?"

"Yes." She didn't know what to make of Racha - few did. With his mane of blond hair, his deep black eyes, and his habit of appearing to be flirting with everything he looked at, he did take some getting used to, Ebony supposed. The handsome head nodded up and down.

"And you saw Silver?"

"Yes." She thought back to the leader of Tribe Fury; all furious enthusiasm and excitement for his war.

"And you know why his tactics have changed? Why the war is being fought differently now? You know what's going on back at the hotel?"

"Yes..." Amber wasn't sure quite how to answer that one. She couldn't speak of the Guardian, and instinct told her that it wouldn't be healthy to mention that Silver seemed to have vanished. "It would be easier if you came to the shelter though. There are others there who knew Silver better than I did. I only spoke to him once."

"Brigadier..." began Archer, apparently feeling the same unease as Ebony. Again she felt that she could almost have kissed him. Racha merely shook his head.

"No. You don't have to come. You can stay here, get shot. Do what you like. But I have to find out what happened to Silver, and I'm going to find out."

"By following a complete stranger to a shelter that might not even exist?" Ebony couldn't stop the words from jumping out of her mouth, and almost winced at the angry look Bray flashed her way. She could see what he was thinking - that she was ranging herself against Amber again; trying to stir things up; causing trouble. Maybe, she thought, she couldn't blame him for thinking that way. The precedents were legion, after all. But couldn't he see that there were enough rats here to colonise several countries? Something was wrong. Something involving a certain blonde girl and her red-headed friend, and their unlikely appearance here and now. None of it made any sense; save that it was a trap. And given that this was Amber, that made very little sense either. Why would Amber come here to spring a trap, much less a trap for Bray? But then there was little that really did make sense these days. Archer was still trying to make Racha listen to him, she thought; still trying to tell him that it was insane to blindly follow this unknown pair off towards the massed ranks of the enemy. Racha, predictably enough, wasn't listening. When did Racha ever listen to anybody else - even before he had lost his head? The question that remained now was whether Archer, lent strength by his days in command since Racha's unexpected change of priorities, would stand up to his superior officer and put a stop to all of this before it went too far. He already seemed to be backing down though, moving back physically as well as metaphorically, his mirrored lenses pointing at the ground. He wasn't going to be standing up to Racha - not today, or any other time soon. Just as Racha had been unable, in the end, to lose his loyalty to Silver, so too was Archer unable to rise up against Racha. Ebony shook her head.

"You really think we can get past all those soldiers out there?" asked Salene. Ebony could almost have shouted at her - Of course we can't get past all those soldiers! There are dozens of them, with automatic weaponry, all pointed in our direction, and you think we can somehow get twenty people out of here without them noticing?! She didn't say it though; there was no point. If there was one thing she had learnt over the years, it was that people would invariably make their own mistakes, regardless of attempts to help them. And Racha most certainly was going to follow Amber now; follow her to wherever it was that she was planning to lead them; just because he wanted to find out what had happened to Silver. Ebony could have told him the answer to that easily enough - somebody in his close little circle had got rid of him, and had fancied his position in command. Either that or he had finally gone as crazy as his former best friend. But when was there ever any point in saying such things to Racha?

"I can get us past the soldiers," Amber was promising. "We have some inside men. They'll help us. Like I said, there's a weak point in their defences. If we head for that, I can get everybody through. You'll have to move fast though. If you're coming, come. If not..." Her voice trailed away, and she reached out one hand towards Bray. He took it almost without thinking, although his eyes were still troubled. There was something that he didn't quite understand; wasn't quite happy about. Ebony wished that he would act upon it; wished it fervently. Of course he didn't; he didn't even ask any more questions. He merely nodded, slowly, his head moving like a dead weight.

"Then decide who's coming." The cool eyes surveyed the whole group. Ebony didn't trust those eyes. Were they looking at potential new recruits for this unlikely little stronghold she had been talking about, or was she sizing them up for more sinister reasons. Insane, she told herself. This is Amber. But Amber had been inside the hotel, and being with the enemy could change a person. She had seen Zoot brainwash more than one 'volunteer'. She was pretty sure that a military organisation like Tribe Fury would be capable of that too.

"We're all going." Racha looked more like the man in command again, his bearing stiff and erect, the sparkle returned to his dark black eyes. "Isn't that right, Colonel Archer?"

Now's your chance, Archer. Ebony watched him with earnest, bright eyes. Now's your chance to put your foot down; tell him this is crazy; get everybody to see that this whole damn story reeks of lies and danger. Instead, predictably enough, Archer merely gave a brisk nod and clamped his hands behind his back.

"Yes sir." He spoke like the good, well trained soldier he had always showed himself to be - but with none of the efficiency and independence of thought that he had been displaying these last few days. "We're all going."

"Good man." Racha looked towards Ebony then, apparently willing to consider her as separate to his band of Furies. "And what about you? You clearly don't believe this story. You'll be staying here?"

Here, where getting shot seemed her most likely fate - although even that was probably still better than being brainwashed by the enemy. She could stay here, and possibly escape, and let all these idiots walk off into what might well be a trap - or she could go with them, and get caught up in the trap herself. Be free, and safe - more or less - whilst Bray walked headlong into danger without her being there to help him. She couldn't even believe that she was considering it. Ebony always put herself first. Her own needs, her own wants, her own safety. All her instincts told her to stay here. Not to go with them. Stay here, stay safe, stay free. And, by association, be powerless to do anything about it if this really was a trap. She shook her head, very, very faintly.

"No." When she said it she could scarcely believe that it was her voice; that it was her decision; that she really was agreeing to this. "No, I'm not staying. I'm coming." She knew it was madness, and she couldn't really explain it, save that her best chance of helping was to go along with the rest of them. At least then somebody would have their eyes open. At least then one of them might be able to sound the alarm in time. Racha nodded briskly.

"Right. Good." His hand fell at last from Bray's shoulder. "Then lead on, Amber. We're right behind you."

"I'm... glad." Except that you don't look glad, Amber, thought Ebony, unable to keep the suspicion from her eyes. You don't look glad, you look... But she couldn't decide just what that look was, and had to leave it at that. Amber was smiling though, even if it didn't look at all real, and she was starting to lead the way over the barricades. Bray was following her, face closed, eyes troubled. Sasha didn't look any happier. Ebony couldn't stop shaking her head, very slowly, very slightly, from side to side. Was she really the only person who could see this? Were the others really that blinded by delight, and hope, and the promise of a meal? This was a trap. It had to be.

Then why are you going with them? asked a voice inside her. If it's a trap, why are you going along? Good question; but she knew the answer already. Because Bray is going. Whatever suspicions he has - and I can see he has some, because they're showing in his eyes - he's still going. And I can't let him go alone. It seemed the stupidest of reasons, but it was her reason, and she was sticking with it. And stick with it she did, as she stepped out from behind the barricades, and followed her friends and colleagues into the street. For all her instincts and forewarned state of alert, she didn't notice that they were being surrounded. Not until it was already far too late.

Jack had only been into the attic of the Mall a handful of times before. He and Dal had run some electrical cables up there once, long ago, when they had been working on their plan to put security cameras all over the building. Before that he had come up once or twice with Adam, the boy with whom he had first found the Mall. They had explored the whole place together then, probing and poking into every corner, gathering together everything that they could find, checking to be sure that they were alone. The attic reminded Jack of both of his friends for just that reason; reminded him of times spent crawling around in the cramped, dark space with two people he had once known, in separate times; two people who had been his close friends, and were now dead. It wasn't as if he could see them there; Adam, tall and proud, his luridly red hair a startling contrast to the utter blackness of his skin; Dal, small and dark and permanently cheerful, always teasing Jack for his seriousness. It wasn't as if he could hear their voices in the silence, or even feel their presence. Adam was long gone; gone for several months before Jack had ever met Dal. Dal hardly seemed to have gone at all, probably since he had already been long dead and buried before Jack had found out about it all. But whatever the reasons, whatever the circumstances, the attic made Jack think of them both. Made him think of the good-natured arguments as he and Dal had scrambled about up here, banging their heads on the roof, skinning their knees on the rafters, slipping about and stumbling blindly into cobwebs of impressive proportions. Made him think of Adam, who had hidden behind a support pillar, and tried to pretend to be a ghost in the hope of making Jack jump. He smiled at the thought now, as he struggled on through the dark space, without even a flashlight to make the going easier. They had a torch, he and Luke, but aside from wanting to save the batteries, they didn't often dare use the thing. There was never any telling who might see the light, somehow, somewhere. Neither of them was prepared to risk that.

"You get anything?" Luke's voice was unnaturally quiet. Never exactly the loudest of people, Luke had been reduced to a whisper and a shadow since the realisation that the Chosen were back. When they had taken over the Mall, and Jack and Luke had taken refuge in the attic, Luke had been a trembling wreck. He had got a hold of himself since then, but he still never spoke any more loudly than he had to; never quite lost the haunted look in his eyes. Jack could sympathise. He hated the Chosen more than he would ever once have believed it possible to hate anybody. Certainly more than he had hated the Locos, with their craziness and their random violence. More than he hated Tribe Fury, with their guns and their bombs and their fierce ruthlessness. The Chosen had caused Dal's death. The Chosen had sent him out of the city, to a forced labour camp. The Chosen had caused him to be somewhere other than at Dal's side, at the end. He could never forgive them for any of that. Luke couldn't forgive them either, for everything that he had helped them to do, when he had still been the Guardian's faithful lieutenant. That much was written in his eyes as he huddled in his corner, trying to keep warm in the draughty space they had made their home, and staring over at Jack crawling through the hatch. Jack struggled over to join him.

"Not a lot. I managed to grab another bottle of water, but it's going to start looking too obvious if we take anymore just yet." He handed the bottle over, but despite being thirsty, Luke didn't want to take a drink. He could feel from the bottle that the water inside would be cold, and he was more than cold enough already without adding to the problem. Setting the bottle down, he blew on his hands and tried not to shiver.

"How's it looking down there?" he asked, in the tone of voice of one who wasn't entirely sure that he wanted his question answered. Jack shrugged.

"Trudy is holding the kids together well, but she shouldn't be having to do it alone. I think there's more of the Chosen down there now. They're out in the streets as well, and I saw a bunch of other kids out there too. They don't dare try anything with all the little kids as hostages. My guess is they'll surrender."

"Yeah..." Luke sounded distant and unhappy. "Happening all over again, isn't it."

"Maybe." Jack shrugged. "Weren't working with Tribe Fury last time though, were they."

"You think they are this time?" For the first time all day, Luke's eyes showed a spark of real interest. Jack shrugged.

"Looks like it. I think I saw a couple of them downstairs." He shrugged. "Anyway, what's it matter. Chosen, Furies - either way there's not much that we can do about it."

"Yeah." Luke glanced up suddenly, frowning at Jack. "Hold on. I can't see you, Jack, but I can hear you just fine. What have you got up your sleeve?"

"Not nearly as much as I'd like." There was a clattering sound as the smaller boy drew closer, clambering over the rafters to sit alongside his companion. "But look. There isn't a whole lot we can do. Not right now. But what if the others try to get in here? What if Lex, or whoever, decides to take back the Mall? It might happen. Lex is just about crazy enough to try it. If that happens, they'll have a much greater chance of success if they've got some help inside, right?"

"Probably." Now that they were close together they could see each other's faces at last, albeit just a little. Jack could see blue hair and a pale smudge of a face, and Luke could see red hair, and the beginnings of a cunning smile. "What sort of help?"

"This and that." Jack was taking things out of his shirt; things that he had secreted down inside it during his foray to the lower floors. Things that he had taken when he had been supposed to be searching for food. Luke rolled his eyes at the sight of it. For somebody who seemed to be permanently hungry, Jack had a remarkable ability to forget about such minor necessities as eating. They pored over the loot together; a screwdriver or three, several small reels of wiring, a handful of batteries, some scrap pieces of metal, some string, assorted screws, and some insulating tape. Not exactly treasure, but Luke had no doubt that Jack's sharp mind would find something to do with it all. He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Do you have some kind of plan?" he asked. Jack shook his head. Plans were for practical minds. Jack thought up inventions, and new things to do with computers. If he wanted to he could undoubtedly design some basic weapons, built from odds and ends, that might help anybody trying to take the Mall back from its unwelcome Occupiers - but any planning that had to be done couldn't be his responsibility as well. Luke could appreciate that, and he knew that that would be his task. He sighed. Jack squinted at him out of the corner of one eye as he collected up some errant screws.

"What?" he asked. Luke shook his head.

"Nothing." It would do him good, he supposed, having to stir himself to proper thought. Ever since the Chosen had appeared in the Mall he had thought about little other than his hatred of them, and the hatred of himself that he felt whenever he remembered how he had once been one of them. Now he had to think of something more positive. Some way of using whatever tricks Jack designed, in order to fight back against the enemies downstairs. He could already feel his brain prickling, even though real ideas were far away as yet. He smiled.

"It could be months, Jack."

"It could be days. It could be hours."

"Unlikely."

"I know." The cheerfully optimistic boy shrugged his cocky shoulders, enjoying a display of self-confidence. "But I'll be ready. I can make stuff. Steal some more things from downstairs, use some of the junk up here. I can make us things that'll help. I know I can."

"Yeah. I think you could probably make anything you set your mind to, Jack. Whether or not it'll make any difference - that I don't know." Luke couldn't help thinking what unlikely soldiers they were. Jack was no fighter. He simply wasn't the type, and any 'weapons' he might happen to design were unlikely to be especially devastating. All the same, there was a chance that they could accomplish something, and that chance was what made Jack's eyes bright with his new enthusiasm. Luke could feel it beginning to rub off. He smiled. Jack saw the flicker of new hope, and grinned anew.

"Of course, I'm going to need chocolate," he said hopefully. Luke just laughed.

"Chocolate? We're trapped in the attic, Jack. If you wanted chocolate, you should have got it when you were downstairs. Screws and wiring might help us fight the Chosen, but they don't taste all that good."

"True." For a second it looked as though Jack might head straight off downstairs, on the hunt for something more edible, but in the end he merely shrugged, and settled down on the floor amongst his beloved junk. Luke was still wondering if it was even possible to make something, when Jack reached for a screwdriver and settled down to work. He wasn't sure what he was making yet, but his head was full of theories. Here was where Dal came in of course; with his comments and his assistance and his ability to keep the feet of his more impulsive friend secure on terra firma. Here was where they would mock fight over the new creation, and joke together in Jack's little workshop, oblivious to the hardships of their lives. For a moment he felt a pang of regret; the deep sadness that could only come from the loss of a friend who could never return, but he shook the feeling away. It wasn't as though he hadn't felt it before. Dal was here with him, somewhere, just like Adam. Here in their place, the home they had won from the madness outside. And Jack's fingers moved with more surety upon their task, and his mind clicked more sharply through its gears. The Chosen were leaving the Mall, whether or not Lex, or anybody else, came to drive them away. Jack was going to see to that. This was his place, damn it. His. And whatever it took, he was going to make it his again.

In later years, looking back, Ebony would never remember seeing surprise on Bray's face when the enemy came for them. The others could probably see it upon her own face, for even though she had fully expected to be attacked, she had never expected them to come so quickly, and so silently. One moment nothing, save the rattle of the guns - the next even that was gone. It was then that she had realised they were surrounded, and that any attempt to use their own guns would be suicide. It was enough to make her want to hit out in her fury, though she knew that would be as senseless as using her gun. She could do nothing save watch as the hidden Furies came towards them, encircling them, greeting Amber with cheerful congratulation. That was when Ebony first noticed that there was no surprise in Bray's eyes, and she realised that his suspicions had been as great as her own. Why the hell had he come, then, if he had known that something was wrong? She didn't really need to ask. He had had to know, simply enough; he had had to find out if his suspicions were correct. Presumably if they were proved right, he didn't care about the consequences enough to worry about the risk he had been taking. That much she could understand. She watched him now, even as she was struggling in the grip of the soldiers who were coming to tie her hands. She saw him, eyes fixed intently upon Amber as more of the soldiers took hold of him. There was such a strange expression in those eyes; such a torn, hurt expression, that begged explanation. Amber didn't answer it, even just with a look of her own. She merely turned away, staring sightlessly at the rain-wet ground, and vanished into the throngs of assembled Furies. Bray didn't even struggle when he was pulled away after that. Ebony didn't think she had ever seen anything more broken.

"Why?" It was her who asked the question in the end. Clearly he wasn't going to. She asked it to Amber's back, turned upon them, and moving away fast. The back didn't slow in its retreat; the familiar face didn't turn around to offer any explanation for the treachery. There was no response at all. Ebony considered repeating the question, but didn't. She had no desire to sound desperate; no desire to sound as though she were begging for something. Somebody pushed her, and she started walking, onwards after that resolutely turned back.

They were all walking then. Her, Bray, Racha, Archer - all of them. Ryan and Salene were together at the back, their own shock as clear as her own. Archer was fuming; he had lost his mirrored shades at some point in a brief struggle, and she could see his eyes for the first time. It might almost have been a shame that she didn't have the time to look at them properly, but he was off to her side and she couldn't really see him at all. Racha was a mystery, as always. Either he still thought that he was on his way to meet somebody who could tell him about Silver, or he hadn't noticed that his hands were tied behind his back, for his attitude didn't seem to have changed. She looked at him sideways, and saw that his eyes still glowed, and his face bore no signs of stress or fury. Not that it was always easy to tell, when Racha was angry. He still smiled even then, and anybody who had stirred his wrath didn't know about it until they were lying in broken pieces at his feet. This time, though, she didn't think that there was any storm waiting to break. The storm clouds were perhaps no longer even capable of gathering.

And Bray. Heaven only knew what was going through his mind. His eyes were empty, his expression unreadable. Every so often she caught a glimpse of something; some unimaginable sorrow, or a flicker of disbelief; but it never lasted long. His gaze rested upon that distant back; Amber's stiff shoulders and blonde head. Maybe he was trying to search her soul, and find her reason for betraying him, but if so there was no answer forthcoming, for no understanding ever cleared his face of its periodic distress. Ebony tried to draw closer to him, but they were kept in a formation of sorts, and she couldn't get to him. She was probably the last person he wanted now anyway; Amber's constant rival and critic, like a representation of old insults finally vindicated. Certainly he didn't look at her, or show any awareness of her presence - but then he didn't show any awareness of anything else, either. His feet propelled him onwards only through sheer instinct, or perhaps because the motion of the guards was carrying him along.

"Bray?" She tried speaking to him without expecting an answer. One of the guards thumped her in the back, although the blow was not hard. A warning then; they weren't supposed to speak. Not that it mattered. Bray hadn't shown a flicker of reaction to her voice, and his eyes had not changed their focus. She wondered if he had even heard. A moment later she tried again, more quietly this time, a little more urgently. Still he didn't answer, but she thought that his shoulders slumped a little. She left him alone after that; better to let him mope, if that was what he wanted to do. Better to leave him alone with his thoughts. She couldn't imagine how he felt, having just been betrayed by the supposed love of his life. There were few enough people in Ebony's life that she had become close enough to risk being hurt that much by, and none of them had ever betrayed her. Certainly Bray never had, and he was the one person left who could ever really hurt her. She wanted to make him feel better now, but knew that she couldn't. What was the point in trying?

It was a long walk. She hadn't realised how far away from the hotel they had gone during their various wanderings and manoeuvres. All that way, hands tied, past windows where she knew eyes lay waiting. All those kids; all those tribes; all those potential allies in the fight against the city's oppressors. All seeing her and her cohorts being taken in as prisoners. It made her cheeks burn with anger and humiliation, which at least gave her something to think about other than Bray. Maybe somebody would see what was going on, and come to the rescue; all those kids who at one point or another had had their battles fought and won for them by the Mall Rats; all those kids who owed so much to Bray and his various companions. It was a pipe dream, she knew; none of them were going to come to their aid now. They were all cowering inside, afraid. Either that or they had already bitten the bullet and thrown in their lot with Silver's men, out of one kind of fear or another. They certainly weren't going to take the risk of standing against him now. She could have yelled her rage aloud at the many buildings; told their occupants exactly what she thought of them. Reminded them of the Chosen, and the Virus, and of everything that the Mall Rats had done to make the city safe again after both of those threats. She kept quiet though. Stirring speeches were not for those moments when sullen heavies with automatic rifles were surrounding her on all sides. Ideally, stirring speeches weren't for wasting on cowards, either. She preferred to keep them for her Locos, even if they were probably all now dead.

"What was that?" Ryan's voice startled her thoughts back to the present, and she looked up. A grunt told her that the large boy had been silenced, in a rather more energetic way than had she a few moments before. She didn't look over at him, to be sure that he was alright; their pace hadn't altered, she could still hear the same number of feet, marching without interruption. Ryan was tough, anyway. Instead she looked around the streets, wondering what it was that might have attracted his attention. Any chance of help? Any possibility of a friend or ally somewhere in the dark alleys and glass-less windows? Instead she saw something else, lurking in the distance; a glimpse of blue, fleeting but clear. Blue cloth. Her mind filled in the rest of the details, and she looked away in disgust. A blue robe; a large figure with blue hair. A member of the Chosen. One of the Guardian's men, emerged from the subterranean tunnels they had made their home. She could almost have spat, so unpleasant was the taste in her mouth at the sight of the figure. So the Chosen were stirring again; putting their feelers out whilst Tribe Fury were locked in their civil war. She couldn't blame them; it was the sort of opportunity she could imagine herself taking, had she still been the warrior queen of old, at the head of her Loco army. This was different though; this was the Chosen, and she hated them as much as she had ever hated any enemy. How could she fail to hate people who claimed to worship Zoot? Her eyes flickered over to Bray, to see if he too had spotted the blue-clad shape in the distance. He showed no reaction, as before, and she decided that he could not have seen that fleeting acolyte. Bray had a tendency to be anything but quiet when the Chosen appeared. A second later, though, she was forced to wonder just how long his oblivion could last. There was a second Chosen figure up ahead; a second, and a third, and a fourth. They were around a corner then, striding into a new street, and she saw something that made her hackles rise; six or seven of them, all in their blue robes, with their almost shaven blue heads. They were standing in a row along the street, hands clasped before them, heads slightly bowed, like an honour guard for the passing parade. One or two of the Fury soldiers greeted them, in what seemed to be a friendly manner, and Ebony felt her heart sink. When she and the others had found the Guardian living beneath the city, he had not had very many supporters left with him. Some; more than she might have expected; but not as many as she was seeing now, emerging from alleys, walking out to stand around them as they passed on down the road. He had built up his support, she realised, in the time since she had left him; since she had gone off with Bray and her Loco army for that fateful battle with the Fury troops. Playing upon the fears of the locals, no doubt, and telling them that the mighty Zoot would protect them from the dangers that filled their city. And they had come to him, as they had come to him before, and now it seemed that they had aligned themselves with Tribe Fury, to compound their growing strength. What deals had been struck; what machinations had been going on beyond her sight, whilst she had been stuck in grimy foxholes fighting battles with the rebels? And where was the Guardian? For a moment she wondered if that might have been the reason for Silver's change in tactics; why he had suddenly sent out the tanks against Racha's army. Had he been won over by the Guardian? Then she remembered the figure she had seen making that triumphant speech, the day that Tribe Fury had first come to the city. She remembered Racha's tales of past battles and past glories. Silver was not a man to have his head turned by some new religion. Not a man to be easily swayed by the Guardian. All the same, all these Chosen, with their friendly greetings for the passing Fury soldiers... It made her pulse beat a little faster, so that she could hear it inside herself; a warning from her senses that something was not right. Something was not good. Something more than normal.

"The Chosen." Bray's voice. She glanced over at him then, for the first time since spotting that first flash of blue. He had come back to himself; returned from whatever dark plains had held his mind since the capture. She recognised the look in his face; the apparent lack of emotion, with glitters in his eyes that said more than facial expressions ever could. There were probably a hundred things that she could have said to him then; a hundred different pointless platitudes that wouldn't have meant anything to either of them. She knew what the sight of the Chosen did to Bray. It wasn't much different to what she felt herself. The pulses still beat fast, and she still heard them; still felt them. Still felt the hatred running inside her. She wanted to move closer to him then, as though by her closeness she could somehow make him feel better. She knew that she wasn't the right person to do that though; it wasn't her closeness that was likely to ease his mind. That was not the nature of their relationship, no matter how she might hope. Somebody else shared that with him, and Ebony turned her eyes to look towards that somebody now. Amber had tensed, and suspicions fluttered in Ebony's mind. Amber showed no particular surprise at the appearance of the Chosen. Certainly her back was turned, so her face was invisible, but she wasn't looking around. Either she was as closed to the world as Bray had been a few moments before, or she had no reason to be surprised. And Ebony was not the only one to have noticed it.

"Amber?" Bray was stepping forward, despite the best efforts of the guards to prevent it. They closed in around him, but he pushed against them, struggling uselessly against strong arms and heavy guns. Ryan let out a shout as well then, trying to go to the aid of his fellow Mall Rat. Even Archer and his men, whatever their feelings for Bray, began to struggle, seeing the opportunity for a moment of rebellion. There was chaos then for a few wonderful minutes, with all of them pressing against their guards, pressing against barriers of crossed guns; a few moments of jumbled noises and criss-crossed threats and insults. Ebony saw Amber's shoulders tense even more, and her step faltered slightly. Bray's voice had got to her; and with all the emotion that had been in it, that was no surprise. He called her again, and this time, very slowly, she turned around. It was quite a sight that must have awaited her then; a scuffle amongst the prisoners and their guards, with Bray in the centre of it; eyes bright; struggling with the people she had brought against him. Her face paled, and Sasha was beside her in an instant.

"Amber!" It was Bray's last attempt before he was swamped by the guards. Sasha was the one to react to it though, pushing the guards back, and showing no fear of the guns. If the hostility Bray couldn't keep from his eyes bothered the younger boy, he didn't show it, and instead held his ground until he was sure that the guards were unlikely to turn violent. He stepped back then, and looked once again towards Amber. The girl looked unsteady; a shadow of her former, strong self. For all their enmity, Ebony had always had respect for Amber. She was strong, determined, powerful. Little enough seemed to scare her or, or to weaken her resolve. This though? This was nothing like the Amber that Ebony had known before. She looked ashen as she stared back at Bray now.

"Bray..." She was searching for the words, but he was shaking his head as though unwilling to listen. "Bray, please."

"The Chosen?" The disbelief was powerful in his voice. "Amber, the Chosen? If you were just working with Tribe Fury I could understand it. With everything you must have been through... But the Chosen...?"

"It's not like that." She was pressing closer to Sasha, which was far from what Bray wanted to see. "Whatever you're thinking, it's not like that."

"Isn't it?" He finally shook off the guards, and walked past them. They didn't stop him. Not, Ebony could see, because Sasha had tried to stop them before, but merely because they had no need to worry. Not only did they outnumber their prisoners, but with the addition of so many of the Chosen as a blue-rinsed honour guard, there was no reason to fear any escape. "Well what should I be thinking, huh Amber? Are you telling me you didn't know about this? They're working together now, aren't they. They must be. And you're trying to pretend that you didn't know?"

"I knew." She couldn't meet his eyes anymore. "Bray, they have Eden. I'm sorry. I know how you feel about them, and about the Guardian, and about all of what they stand for. But they have our son, and they said I'd never see him again. I don't know what they'd do to him, but do you want to think about what the Guardian would do with Zoot's nephew? He's my son, Bray. He's our son. You can't want me to take that kind of a risk."

"The Guardian." Bray looked as grey as Amber. He stopped walking, all the fight seeming to drop out of him in an instant. He had thought at first that he was merely being taken to Silver - to imprisonment, or to the execution that had awaited him before. Neither was a pleasant prospect, especially since both came at Amber's instigation, but to be taken before the Guardian was worse in every way. The Guardian, with his smug smile, and his false charm; Zoot's name on his lips with his every breath. Bray hated him more than he had ever hated anyone; more than Ebony, who felt the same, could ever hate him. The idea of his son in the hands of such a man made him feel sick.

"You understand?" She was begging for forgiveness, but Bray wasn't in the mood for any of that. It was too much; far too much to take in and process. Amber had handed him over to Tribe Fury, but also to the Chosen. He was doubtless now being taken to the Guardian, who would kill him quicker and more surely than Silver ever would, in the middle of what was obviously his return to power. The idea of dying, and leaving the way clear for the Guardian to rebuild his hateful religion, made his stomach churn almost as much as the news that that same enemy had his son. The baby was something he had long thought about, but had never seen; something that it was hard to imagine now, and certainly hard to feel real emotion towards. The Guardian, on the other hand, brought forth emotion aplenty. Bray might have yet to bond with his son, but he had bonded with his brother years before, and it was Martin who seemed to have first claim to his loyalties now. He could do nothing but think of his hatred for the Guardian, and as such couldn't begin to reassure Amber. As the guards pushed him onwards again, and all of them fell back into step, Amber had to turn her eyes away and walk on unforgiven. Ebony almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

"The Guardian." She could hear Bray muttering under his breath, but there was certainly nothing that she could say to him in return. Nothing that would ease his mind, any more than it would her own. It was a blow to her, too, to discover that it was the Guardian who was behind all of this; who was the architect of Amber's treachery. It made everything different. Behind her she could hear her rebel allies muttering too, wondering perhaps at what could have made Silver form an alliance with this gang of apparent monks. They might not know who the Guardian was; who these ranks of blue-robed strangers were; but they knew that something was wrong. It ran through them like a rattle of unease and dismay. Things were not as they should be; here and most likely at the hotel. When she turned around, against the pushing of the guards, she could see what looked like suspicion in Archer's newly revealed eyes. He wanted answers, as did his men, and Ebony foresaw fireworks when those answers came. She only hoped they all lived long enough to let the fireworks go. With the Guardian awaiting them, it didn't seem likely. There was little reason at all for such hopes now.

It was a difficult journey through the streets. Lex had underestimated the number of the enemy, for it seemed that they were everywhere; Furies patrolling, members of the Chosen standing openly on street corners. They had even set up what appeared to be recruitment booths, like the army in days of old; two members of the Chosen to each, resplendent in their robes and freshly applied hair dye. Posters of Zoot adorned the walls where they stood, and still wet graffiti screamed his old slogans in letters a foot high. Power And Chaos in letters as blue as the robes of the Chosen, echoed by Zoot's own immature voice, blasting out of the speakers of small cassette players standing on the pavement. Tribe Fury seemed happy enough with the Chosen's presence, and one or two of the Fury soldiers were wearing blue armbands in an apparent show of support. It didn't make sense to Lex, who had always understood the military mind. Tribe Fury weren't about power and chaos; power, yes. That bit rang true. But chaos? There had been nothing chaotic about Tribe Fury when they had taken over the city. Nothing chaotic in their precise attacks, their smooth assumption of control. A lot had changed though; he knew that. The civil war had made all kinds of things different. Apparently the Furies had been ready to enter into some kind of alliance with the Chosen in order to be sure of defeating the rebels, but for the line between them to have blurred; for Fury soldiers to be openly displaying what appeared to be emblems of the Chosen; there had be more going on than a mere alliance. Lex imagined the Guardian strutting through the hotel, turning heads and winning over idealistic young soldiers. Certainly Zoot was a figure of considerable attraction, capable of capturing the imagination of anybody impressionable enough to be won over by his old ideas. It was frightening to see how many of the people of the city had already thrown in with the Chosen, given how energetically they had fought to rid themselves of the hated fanatics just a short time ago. The Mall, reasoned Lex; all those people with young charges trapped inside the Mall with Trudy and Brady, were beginning to join up as novices in the hope of preventing a tragedy. He didn't really blame them; but it made his job harder. Just because they hadn't wanted to join the Chosen didn't mean that they wouldn't sound the alarm if they saw people sneaking secretly through the streets. There were twice the obstacles then; twice the dangers. Twice the likelihood that he and his friends would get captured before they could find Bray. More than once they had to scramble for better cover. More than once they lay flat in the gutter, or behind piles of rubbish, willing each other into greater silence and certain that they had been seen. It seemed amazing that they had not yet been discovered by either patrolling army.

KC led them to where he had met Bray, the night that he had last seen Amber. It was a mess now, for the tanks had blasted much of it into ruin. A few small splashes of blood showed that there had been some serious fighting going on at some point, and shrapnel and the marks of bullets added to the image of a place where soldiers had been stationed on active service. There were no bodies though. Hunting around, Michaels found signs of a meal; a few metal cups crushed by tank treads, and a tin once containing soup that had been flattened the same way. Lex scowled.

"Looks like they got routed by the tanks the same way we did. They must have had to move on."

"The tanks were coming this way." Michaels was crouching on the ground at his feet, examining the marks on the tarmac for all the world as though they meant something to him. "So anybody who was here probably ran that way." He pointed. "At least at first. They'd have split up if they had any sense."

"Yeah?" Lex agreed, but he was impressed to hear it coming from the boy. Michaels had been of so little use for the most part, with his natural nervousness always holding him back, that it seemed odd to see him playing such an active rôle now. Clearly he knew what he was talking about though, so his Fury training must have meant something to him once upon a time. He looked up at Lex now, eyes bright, and nodded his head slowly.

"Racha is a good strategist, and you don't need to be that to know to split up when you're attacked by tanks. They were probably looking for cover. Maybe heading for streets that would be too narrow for the tanks to follow." He shrugged his thin shoulders. "After that I don't know. Racha would have wanted to find out what was going on back at the hotel, but I doubt they could have got close to it."

"The hotel is miles away." Lex looked about, trying to get his bearings, then pointed. "That way. The pace we've been going it could take us hours to reach it. You're sure they'd have wanted to head that way?"

"Yeah." Michaels looked around at the destruction; the mess caused by the tanks. "You don't know Silver the way that we do, Lex. I suppose you don't want to. But tanks... he'd send them against you without a thought, but he'd never send them against his own people. That's who was here. KC said that Bray and your other friends are with Racha and the rebels, which means that these tanks were sent here against them. Silver would never have authorised that."

"The Guardian then," muttered Lex sourly, guessing that it had probably been that same worthy who had been responsible for sending the tanks to his base too. He only wished that he knew how the enemy had known where to attack. "The Chosen really have got a hold, haven't they."

"It's not a surprise. We know how good they are at taking control." Pride was also examining the rubble. "So supposing they were trying to get to the hotel, do we head that way ourselves?"

"It's as good a start as any." Lex scowled down at Michaels. "You really think Racha would have been that eager to go there?"

"He and Silver are old friends. I don't know why Racha was with the rebels, but everybody knows how he and Silver really feel about each other. He'd want to know why his friend would send tanks out after him. They probably wouldn't know about these Chosen people. Not at first, anyhow."

"We didn't know about them until they took the Mall," agreed Lex. "Not that it took them long to shout about their presence after that. Yeah, okay. We'll head towards the hotel. There's more than one route they could be taking though."

"And don't forget that there's bound to be more of the enemy around, the closer we get to their base," put in Pride. "We'll have to be even more careful than we have been so far."

"Or we could just stand here and wait." Chloe's voice, coming in an urgent whisper, put them all instantly on edge. Lex pushed Tai-San under cover, rather unnecessarily given her speed, and ignoring her fierce glare he hauled Michaels down beside them. The others could reasonably see to themselves.

"What is it?" hissed KC, rather annoyed that Chloe had apparently seen something he had not. Lately she had been getting all too good at the business of moving about in the streets. If he wasn't careful he could find himself superseded by his own girlfriend. Or by the girl he rather hoped would one day become his girlfriend, anyway. Once they stopped arguing long enough to try doing something else.

"Over there." She kept her voice low, clearly enjoying being one up on him. He followed her pointing finger, and saw the group that was coming into view. Half a dozen of the Chosen, marching alongside a band of Tribe Fury soldiers, the Chosen acolytes singing a chanting, dirge-like song of apparent triumph. Lex breathed out in relief. They had got out of sight just in time. He crouched lower, watching the gang advance, a mixture of precise marching and grandiose parading. There were probably twenty Furies, all with rifles, and by the look of things a number of civilians, too - one of whom was walking at the head of the Fury column. She looked familiar, and it was Tai-San who recognised her first, gasping her name in a voice that edged perilously close to being too loud.

"Amber!"

"What?" Lex looked again, and saw that she was right; Amber, walking with the Furies without so much as a gun pointing in her direction. There was somebody a few paces behind her; somebody red-headed and also strikingly familiar, and again somebody beat Lex to the identification. KC this time, his voice showing disbelief.

"Sasha. That's Sasha. They must have gone to the hotel. Bray didn't get to them quickly enough; he can't have. They must have given themselves up."

"I wonder where Eden is." Chloe was looking for a sign of the baby, but couldn't see him anywhere. Lex scowled.

"Never mind the baby. Look who else is there."

"Bray." Pride's voice was very quiet; he was hardly Bray's greatest fan, but he didn't like to see anybody in trouble. "And Ebony." His voice turned gruff. "And Racha."

"And Ryan." Lex's voice sounded odd. KC had told him of his old friend's return to the city, but to see him now was strange nonetheless. Part of him was delighted, but another part of him recognised the danger that Ryan was clearly in, which rather dampened his glee.

"And Salene!" Chloe's feelings mirrored Lex's own, for Salene had been a mother to her during some of their hardest days, and was somebody that Chloe had been missing greatly. To see her again was wonderful; to see her in the midst of a group of Chosen, her hands tied, was anything but. "Lex, we have to do something."

"Tell me about it." Lex didn't have a clue. Their weapons stash, recently discovered in Danni's old home, was still under wraps; and besides, there were some twenty armed Furies to contend with. Battle plans danced around inside his head, but all that he could really think of was a distraction of some kind. Distract, weaken, attack. Somebody had said that to him once; an instructor at the ill-fated military training camp in the hills, perhaps? His instructors had never had to contend with Tribe Fury though; most of them had never gone into battle at all.

"Lex!" KC was expecting him to do something, and preferably before the parade passed by. He scowled. They always expected him to be the one to come up with a plan; which was fair enough, since it was a part of his job. All the same though; all those Furies, the Chosen, not knowing which side Amber and Sasha might fight for. And what if one of them was carrying a baby? He could see no sign of Amber's son, but that didn't mean he wasn't there - and Lex didn't want to be responsible for hurting a baby. He didn't care much for the things as a whole, but that didn't mean that he was willing to take any chances around one. Pride laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Amber will side with us," he said firmly, as though aware of Lex's concerns. His voice was so firm, so certain, that Lex didn't doubt it for a moment. Pride was hardly unbiased where Amber was concerned, and he was not the type to think badly of her, or suspect her of wrongdoing, but his conviction was convincing. Lex nodded.

"You see the baby?" he asked. Pride's eyes were excellent, and if anybody was going to spot a child in that marching band of warriors and monks, it would be him. There was a second of silence, then a head shake that Lex almost didn't see.

"There's no baby there. Maybe it's back at the hotel."

"Makes sense." Something was gnawing at Lex's mind, but he ignored it. "Okay... we're not exactly armed for an attack."

"Maybe." KC sounded faintly defensive, as though worried that he might be about to get into trouble. Lex glared daggers at him.

"KC...?"

"It's nothing much." The boy sank his hands into his pockets, producing three grenades. "I thought I might be able to trade them with somebody. You should never go out with nothing, just in case, and--"

"Never mind." Not caring about the boy's constant attempts to get rich - or whatever its modern equivalent - Lex took the grenades. "If we ever get our lives back to how they were, you're on extra duties for a month for stealing these things. In the meantime... I could kiss you."

"No thanks." KC couldn't stop a smile. "Not in front of your wife, anyway."

"Either way it'll have to wait." Lex reached over to hand Pride one of the grenades. "Make it count."

"I will." Pride was looking solemn; violence had never really been his thing. Grenades were even worse to his way of thinking, but he knew what had to be done. Freeing Amber was important to him, even if it did look as though she wasn't the one who needed saving. He weighed the little bomb in his hand and nodded slowly. "Just give the word."

"Sooner rather than later." Lex was crawling away a short distance, partly to look for a better place from which to make his attack, and partly in the hope that any return fire would be directed away from the others. The motley parade had almost gone past them now, and his eyes lingered on Ryan. Had he grown? He certainly looked taller. More proud. More of a man. Lex wanted him back at his side, and there seemed little point in putting things off, and risking the loss of his chance. He drew in a deep breath, then nodded a cue towards Pride. A second later, when he threw the first grenade, it was with the brief thought that it could well be the last thing he ever did. What the hell, his inner self told him. Might as well go out trying to be useful.

The explosion was beautiful. Lex had seen a lot of explosions, especially in recent weeks, but this latest was a real piece of art. His throw was perfect, at least as far as he saw it; just close enough to the group to shower them with debris, without causing any immediate injury. Several of them stumbled, one or two fell. They all swung around then, rifles pointed at unseen targets. Pride chose that moment to throw his own grenade, clearing their heads so that it exploded on the other side of the column, and swung them around to look for attackers on their other flank. Grinning wickedly, Lex threw the final grenade, and was on his feet and running before it had had its chance to land.

"Hold!" The Fury who turned towards him lost his order in the explosion of the third bomb, and stumbled as the ground shook beneath him. Lex reached him before he could recover himself, and with a neat punch that he was rather proud of, he dropped him and snatched the fallen gun. There was chaos around him, and for a second he was tempted to revel in it, but duty called him back disappointingly quickly. He grabbed Salene, who happened to be nearest, and flung her bodily in the direction of the others. Pride was already there, laying about him with remarkable skill, dropping Furies in their tracks. One or two fired, but the dust in the air spoiled their aim, and they didn't seem to be shooting to kill, anyway. So this group of prisoners was supposed to be brought in alive. That was a stroke of luck. All the same, Lex didn't think that it was a piece of luck that would last. He yelled at Salene to head for cover, and didn't have to repeat the instruction to Ebony. Shouting to Bray, she was already starting to run. Bray, however, had moved only to avoid the unwelcome attention of a Fury guard.

"Amber!" His voice sounded strained; the New Zealand roots were showing again. Lex ran for him, using his stolen rifle to club aside a guard.

"Bray, Amber! Come on! We've only got a couple of seconds. There's too many of them!"

"Amber!" Bray sounded frantic now. "Amber, please."

"No." She took a hesitant step towards him, eyes big and round. "Bray... Eden. I can't... You can't."

"Bray!" Lex reached him at last, grabbing his shoulder. "Come on!"

"I..." Bray's eyes turned from Amber to Lex and back again, showing clear confusion. Amber moved then at last, apparently oblivious to the chaos, the fighting, the shouting. A gunshot sounded out nearby, and Lex shot a nervous glance further down the line. Tai-San had freed some of the prisoners, and they were all were fighting back with gusto - and several of the enemy were still down and out thanks to the explosions. All the same, they didn't have time to stop and chat.

"Bray!" He gave the solid shoulder a tug. "Come on, man! What's the hold up?"

"Bray..." Amber was staring at him as though the rest of the world didn't exist. "I can't leave. You can't leave. He's your son. Please!"

"Look, I don't know what the hell's going on, but we've got to go now. There are too many of them, and confusion only lasts so long." Lex's grip tightened on Bray's shoulder, threatening to bruise the skin. "They've got the Mall. Trudy, Brady - who knows how many others. The Chosen are holding them all hostage, and we've got to get them out. Now come on!"

"Trudy... Brady?" For the first time Bray seemed properly aware of Lex's presence, and his eyes flickered towards him with more certainty. "The Chosen have them?"

"The Chosen have your son!" Amber grabbed his arm, as though planning to play tug of war over his body. "Bray..."

"Bray..." Lex was echoing her unconsciously. "They're recovering the initiative. We have to move. Now."

"Amber." Bray looked back at her, a plea in his face. "We have to leave. The Chosen will kill us. We have to go."

"We have to go back to the hotel! Bray, think about Eden. Are you going to choose your niece over your son? Trudy over me?" She was staring at him in disbelief. "You can't..."

"I'm choosing life over death, Amber! This way I can help both of them. Come with me!"

"No." She was shaking her head, drawing away from him, seeming to shrink into herself. "I can't. I won't leave him. I won't risk him being sent away. Not if I can help it." For a second her eyes lingered on one of the fallen guns, as though seriously considering taking some kind of action; then she took another step back. Sasha was there to catch her, his hands taking her shoulders as his eyes held Bray's.

"I'll look after her," he said simply. Bray merely stared. Sasha and Amber, like a little family unit taunting him with their closeness. For a moment he was almost tempted to do as Amber had asked, just to break the pair up. Lex was pulling at his arm though, and urging him to hurry up.

"Amber..." It was one last attempt that he knew would do no good. She was already turning away from him. Ryan was running past then, arms free now, Tai-San beside him with a knife. Blue-robed Chosen were running towards them; there was just no more time. "Amber, I--"

"Damn it Bray, come on!" Lex was dragging him, and running, and all that Bray could see through the settling dust was Amber being held in Sasha's strong embrace. His heart sank further than he had ever thought that it could go - then he was tumbling over a low wall, and being pushed into an alley, and everything else was gone from sight. Tai-San's knife freed his arms without him really being aware of it, and after that there was nothing but running. Running and stumbling, and fighting back tears, and not really knowing what the hell was going on. He had lost Amber again. After all those weeks of hoping and praying and wishing and wondering, he had found her again; and now in one confused moment he had lost her, and left her far behind. This time he had the awful feeling that he truly had lost her forever. He didn't think she would ever forgive him from running away from their son, and he didn't have to look very far inside himself to find that he didn't blame her. He didn't think he could forgive himself either, and it didn't help at all knowing that there hadn't ever been any choice.

"You okay?" Ebony was speaking, but Bray didn't really process the words. He understood what she was saying, in some part of his brain, but the dominant part of it couldn't be bothered to interpret the faraway sounds. He didn't answer. "Bray?"

"I'm sorry, mate." Lex threw himself down beside his old sparring partner, and offered him a comradely clap on the shoulder. Around them the others milled uncertainly, the Fury rebels eyeing their rescuers with undisguised suspicion, and their rescuers eyeing them in return with clear dislike. Pride stood off to one side, watching Bray with a deep frown, and obviously thinking about Amber.

"It's been a hell of a mess recently. Losing Amber twice. I know I've never exactly been her best friend, but..." Ebony shrugged. "I don't like seeing you so down, Bray. You'll get her back."

"I ran out on her." He lifted his head as though it weighed several tonnes, and stared straight into her eyes. The intensity of his gaze was off-putting. "She was trying to save our son. Her son, my son. I should have stayed with her, and I didn't."

"They'd have killed you," she told him practically. He nodded. It had, after all, been his own argument.

"Yes. But the baby, Eden, would have been safe. Safer. Now he could be taken away because of me, and he and Amber might never see each other again. I don't blame Amber if she never forgives me for that." He dropped his head again, into his hands this time. "The Guardian. It's always the Guardian. First he took away Trudy and Brady, he tried to take away Martin, in a different way. Then Amber and Eden. At the moment he's got all of them. Why does he keep doing this to my family?"

"Because he's a vindictive sod with a warped thing for Zoot." Lex looked away. They were sheltering in yet another abandoned building; some kind of chemicals plant, as far as he could gather. At some point it had been converted into a home by a tribe of some ilk, but whoever they were, they had been gone for some time. The Locos, the Demon Dogs, the Chosen, Tribe Fury - any of them might have been responsible, along with at least half a dozen other possible suspects. One thing the city was never short of was rampaging gangs looking to hurt their weaker neighbours. "We need to hit him where it hurts, Bray. Him and his Fury allies. Whatever the hell is going on between them, we have to show them that we count too. If we can free the Mall, there are a lot of kids who'll fight with us again. They were going to anyway, until everything went belly up thanks to the Chosen taking all those kids hostage."

"There aren't many of us," pointed out Ebony. She had once successfully taken the Mall, but it had been weakened thanks to a sneak attack by Tribe Circus; and the only opposition in those days had been the Mall Rats anyway. They were hardly comparable to the Chosen, in number, in training, or in strength. She knew how easily defended the place was, especially if the defenders knew what they were doing. Lex scowled.

"There could be more. Others who might help. We've got weapons, anyway. Loads of them - your guess about Danni's place was right, Bray. Not that it's really a great idea to go in there with guns blazing, but it helps to have a few."

"We can't go into the Mall with guns!" Salene was appalled. "All those children..."

"Nobody's going to blast in there and shoot everybody." Lex wanted to snap at her, but reined in the instinct. It was too good to see everybody again, to go spoiling it with his quick temper. Even he could appreciate how good it was to all be back together again; or nearly all, anyway. "Guns are more likely to make people take us seriously though. If they see we've got no shortage of firepower, it'll help us."

"And you say you've got some allies?" Ebony wasn't sure that any plan of Lex's was worth following, but he did have a point about having to free the Mall, if it would help to bring them the support of the city; and this talk of how there 'could be more' people on their side in the meantime was promising. Lex nodded.

"A bunch of them. Not many, about as many as there are of us, give or take. They're the efficient type, though I can't say I like them all that much." Something occurred to him, and he looked over at Bray. "As a matter of fact, one of them seems to know you. You ever heard of a guy called Craig?"

"I've known a few Craigs. Half of the swimming team at school seemed to be called Craig." Bray was frowning, glad of something else to concentrate upon. "Does he use any other name?"

"Not that I remember. He and his friends are real private school types, though. Uniforms, school ties, the works. They call themselves the Badlanders."

"The Badlanders?" Bray straightened up, looking about as though expecting them suddenly to appear. "You're kidding? You've been working with the Badlanders? Lex, do they know about the weapons?"

"No. I didn't trust them. Thought it was best to keep it to myself." Lex frowned. "Why?"

"That Craig." Bray shook his head slowly. "Craig Merchant. Yes, I know him. We were rivals in the old days. I got picked to run in the city cross country trials, and he didn't. He didn't take it well. After civilisation fell, we met up a few times, and he always let that old grudge get in the way. The last time I saw him was some months back."

"You don't trust him then?" Lex wasn't sure whether to feel annoyed or vindicated. Bray raised an eyebrow. He wasn't in a particularly humorous mood, but he could appreciate the drollery of the moment nonetheless.

"Last time I saw him, he was wearing a blue robe. He's no devoted member of the Chosen. He's too self-serving for that. But he sided with them when he felt they could offer him something, and I wouldn't trust him not to side with them again. He's probably been with them all along."

"All along?" Several things flashed through Lex's mind. The way that the Badlanders had turned up just when he had needed rescuing. The way that they had used his name, and the fame of the Mall Rats, to gather allies, then insisted that those allies leave all their children in the Mall. It spoke of a long term plan to him, and it made his blood boil. "The bastard. I knew there was something about him. His friends seemed okay though. Maybe some of them..."

"The Badlanders have always been bad news. They were slave traders in the old days, and worse. Craig's second in command, a good looking guy called Krishnan?" Lex nodded in recognition. He quite liked Krishnan. They had seemed to get along rather well, as though they had a fair amount in common. Krishnan had helped him, he remembered, when he had wanted to rescue Bray from Tribe Fury once before. Craig had opposed that mission, but the fact that Krishnan had supported it suggested that maybe he at least could be trusted. Bray also nodded. "You know him too then. Krishnan used to organise fights for people to make bets on. Fights to the death, if the contestants stayed conscious long enough for things to get that far. He'd grab Strays whenever he could; the sort that nobody would miss; then offer them food and shelter in exchange for them fighting. He just wouldn't tell them that they'd probably be fighting for their lives. I'm surprised you never heard about it, though I suppose the fights themselves were pretty localised."

"I remember." Ebony was nodding. "Zoot and I went to watch once or twice, when it first started up. It was pretty grim. Not real sport at all."

"Boy, they've really been playing me, haven't they." Shaking his head in badly contained frustration, Lex felt like holding his head in his hands, just as Bray had been doing a short time before. "Making me trust them, reeling me in. And all this time..." He looked up. "It was probably them that let the enemy know where we were, the night that the tanks came."

"The tanks came after you too?" Bray nodded his head speculatively. "Yes. Probably was them. I'm sorry, Lex."

"Sorry? I'm going to have to be more than sorry, if the rest of the city ever finds out about this. I'm responsible for what happened to all those kids. It's because of me that they're all locked up in the Mall, with the Chosen ready to brainwash or kill every single one of them. All because I let my ego get the better of me, when some kids said they needed my help." He rubbed his eyes. "Well, it looks like we can't expect any help from the Badlanders, anyway. If we're going to take back the Mall, we'll have to do it alone."

"You're feeling bad." Ryan, who knew Lex better than anyone save perhaps Tai-San, offered Lex one of his gentler smiles. "It's not your fault. You couldn't have known that these Badlanders were tricking you."

"He knew." Lex jerked his head at Bray to indicate who he meant. "He'd never have been taken in by them."

"Yeah, but that's Bray's job. He knows the other tribes. He goes out and meets them. You're supposed to..." Ryan had been about to say 'keep everybody safe in the Mall,' but avoided doing so. Lex could see exactly where he had been going, though, and smiled bitterly.

"Head of security. Right. Keep enemies out of the Mall. Or alternatively, invite them all in, and let them take it over. It can't just be me who thinks this has all been a complete disaster."

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself." Archer, a new pair of mirrored shades acquired from somewhere, stood before them all, arms folded, cold hard attitude restored. He looked Lex up and down, the shades hiding whatever his eyes might have revealed of his thoughts. "Are you a soldier or aren't you?" Lex stared up at him, faintly aggrieved at this interruption, but at the same time stirred out of his self pity. He frowned.

"I haven't been a soldier in a long time; but I am a fighter, yeah. A warrior."

"Then act like one. Every unit has its specialists, and if your intelligence expert isn't available, you have to make do without him - and live with the consequences. It's of no importance now, anyway. What counts is your objective."

"Just who the hell are you?" Lex began to rise to his feet, but Ebony put out a hand to stop him.

"He's supporting you, Lex. Listen to him. He may be an arrogant sod, and a cold-hearted bastard, but he knows what he's doing."

"He's a Fury! We should have left them all behind."

"If we had, we'd never have got out alive." Ryan crouched beside Lex, and nodded up at Archer. "He's worth listening to, Lex. And he'll help us to free the Mall. They all will."

"Will we?" Archer didn't sound convinced. His masked eyes scanned the group, from the dejected Bray and Lex, to the tense KC and Chloe. The young pair seemed to be hiding somebody, but he had no real interest in who it might be. "What concern is it of us what happens to your children? If you get them back, you get your support back from the others in the city. That's not what we want."

"You want the Chosen defeated," claimed Ebony. "They're your enemies too."

"Maybe. Maybe not." Archer clearly didn't much care. Somebody else did though, and he came up from behind, dirty, dishevelled, and looking nothing like the statuesque charmer certain amongst the Mall Rats had come to know quite well.

"She's right." Racha's voice was the same, even if he no longer looked much like himself. His black eyes glittered as he spoke, showing the emergent mania of his character, and the smile that played across his lips was not the warm and playful smile of before. "These Chosen are obviously working with our former colleagues. They must be responsible for Silver's change of tactics. They might even be trying to take over control. It's our job to get rid of them."

"Get the Guardian," Bray told him. "The rest will fall then. A few will be very loyal supporters of the cause, but the rest are only in it for what they think they can get out of it. Like Craig Merchant."

"Your friend." For a second Racha looked the way he had used to, and his eyes showed a certain thawing. "But if we make a strike against the Chosen, the children might be under threat?"

"They could be." Tai-San knew better than anybody how the Guardian's mind worked, and she knew that he might well have given such orders. If anybody attacked the hotel directly, there was no telling what might happen to the imprisoned children. Besides - was it even worth trying to attack the hotel without the support of their various potential allies within the city? Racha nodded slowly.

"And one of these children is important to you?" The question was of course directed at Bray, who nodded slowly.

"They all are," he said honestly. He didn't know who any of them were, but they were nonetheless important. They were alive, after all. Racha's eyes narrowed.

"We were talking, before the tanks came, of a child in the Mall who was special to you. That's who this child is? The one that we said was yours, or Ebony's?"

"Yes." Bray hesitated, unwilling to elaborate, but deciding in the end that he had to. "My niece. And her mother. They're both important to me, and they're important to the Chosen. The Guardian will have something planned for both of them."

"Then we have to get them out, don't we." Racha seemed to be drawing himself together, dismissing the fractures that had apparently been splitting his mind in recent days. He still didn't seem quite himself, but he was making the effort, and was managing to tear his mind away from thoughts of Silver at least for the moment. "I need to know about the Mall. Somebody draw me a plan." He pulled paper and a pen from a pocket, and threw both at Lex. "Mark its weak points and its strongest points, and all the entry points you can think of. You, boy--" this to KC-- "take some of my men, and... is that you, Private Michaels?" The boy, who had been hiding behind KC and Chloe ever since the rescue, rose shakily to his feet. He looked terrified. Racha merely nodded at him. "Good man. You can go with them as well. Get these guns you've all been talking about, or as many of them as you can carry, anyway. And ammunition if you've got it. Bring them back here. Archer, post your guard."

"Sir." Archer reacted to the authority without thinking, not questioning Racha's return to leadership. He turned away smartly. KC looked over to Lex for confirmation.

"Go ahead, KC." Lex nodded his head at his young friend. "Chloe too. Stay low and be careful."

"We will." Delighted to have been trusted with such a mission, Chloe was already raring to be off. "Will you be here?"

"Yes." Racha didn't look at her as he spoke; his mind was already upon plans and manoeuvres. "If we have to move out we'll leave signs. My men can read them. You. It's Lex, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Gruff, and beginning to resent the loss of his command, Lex glared up at Racha. "What?"

"You finished that plan yet?"

"Huh?" He hadn't even started it, but didn't especially want to admit to that. "No."

"Then hurry up. There are a lot of soldiers out there who want us back in custody, or dead. If we're going to take the Mall, we need to do it quickly. Get drawing. Bray?"

"What?" Watchful and suspicious, Bray eyed his former tormentor without enthusiasm. Racha smiled in smooth reply.

"Finished feeling sorry for yourself?"

"Not really." He dredged up a smile of his own. "Why?"

"I want to know about the Chosen. Everything you know about them. What they want, what they stand for, who this Guardian guy is. Everything. Know your enemy. Right?"

"Right." It was the last thing that Bray wanted to think about, but he was the right one of them for the job, and he knew it; even if Racha had chosen him without really being aware of that. Tai-San was possibly better qualified to talk of the inner workings of the Guardian's complicated mind, but what drove him; what ideals he followed and beliefs he held; were of particular meaning to Bray. He nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Good." Racha sat down beside him. KC and his little band had already gone, the small, green-haired boy leading them proudly, his ego blooming. Lex sketched out a rough plan of the hotel, with Ryan helping where necessary with the writing of notes, and Salene hovered over them, trying to put as much distance between herself and the remaining Fury rebels as she could. They made her uneasy, even though she had been amongst them for some time now. They had a singularity of purpose, a militaristic fervour, that was unsettling.

"So." Folding his arms, looking like an oddly threatening child in search of a good story, Racha smiled his increasingly less than sane smile. "Why don't we start with this person Zoot. Tell me about him. Everything you can think of that's relevant. And don't leave anything out."

"Everything." Bray wasn't sure - didn't know where to begin, or how to phrase the telling. Zoot was still too raw a wound, and probably always would be. All the same, Racha was right. It was information that needed to be shared, and which might somehow be of use, at some point. He struggled to gather his thoughts. "Zoot. Okay." And he began to speak, and began to tell his enemy of the brother he had lost to madness. In a curious way, to his surprise, he found that it helped.

Jack had been busy in the loft for hours, although for the most part Luke still didn't know what he was doing. Following instruction as all assistants to genius - even eccentric genius - should, he had made several forays downstairs, and on each occasion barely escaped discovery. Each time he had clambered back up to the loft, told Jack that he wasn't going back downstairs again, and been assured that there wouldn't be any need. And of course, half an hour later, Jack had another list of bits and pieces that he absolutely had to have, as soon as possible.

They had piles of things now. The jam jars filled with flammable liquids, Luke understood. The home-made smoke bombs were likewise easy to understand, as were his own contribution; a pair of makeshift blowpipes that fired darts tipped with acid. They wouldn't do much damage, but they would sting more than a dart on its own. The other things though - them he wasn't quite so clear on. The chunky collection of electrical components was a jammer, apparently, which would stop a radio signal being sent. The balloons, stolen from the box of toys for the children, were going to be flour bombs - although they didn't actually have any flour - and water bombs. Always supposing they could get hold of some water. What little they had to live on wasn't really enough to give them an arsenal.

And the rest of it. The heavy duty elastic bands cannibalised from long forgotten sources, and stored in Jack's box of Things That Might Be Useful One Day. They were going to be catapults, which would hopefully fire a variety of ammunition; heavy nuts and bolts, empty cartridge cases weighted with junk. There was something else, too; some other kind of electrical device, powered by a large battery that had been the cause of Luke's narrowest escape. Jack was working on it now, toying with wires cannibalised from his most recent battery charger, as well as several other sources. Luke didn't know what he was making, but he imagined it would prove to be of use - always supposing somebody did one day come to try to free the Mall. If not then these hastily constructed weapons would be no more than toys, for there was little that Jack and Luke could do alone.

"What do you suppose they're all doing?" Luke was sitting by one of the tiny windows, peering out into a grey, empty street. He was supposed to be attaching rags to the jam jars, hopefully completing their transformation into Molotov cocktails, but the window, with its faintly depressing panorama, was rather distracting. Jack glanced up from his wires.

"Who?"

"Lex. The others. Where do you think they are?"

"Not far away." Jack stretched, rubbing his lower back. "Lex will be thinking of ways to get in here."

"With so few of them? KC, Pride... it's not the biggest army ever, is it."

"Maybe it won't need to be." Jack knew very little about fighting, but he did have a good mind. "It's not the number, is it. It's how you attack."

"Yeah, but this place is easy to defend. You know that. It's why you all chose to live here, and why the Chosen picked it as a base when we first took over the city. Now, with the lobby all broken up, and the windows boarded like it is, it's even easier. Several of the old entrance ways are closed off now. I know you did it to make the place look derelict, and that probably worked. I'd guess it's why Tribe Fury never found you. But it's also played right into the Chosen's hands just now."

"Yeah. I suppose so. Also lost us the drain, when we filled it in for extra security. Would have made a great way for Lex to sneak in."

"No. The Chosen know about it." Luke scooted over to sit beside Jack. "Don't feel bad. You did what you had to do at the time. It's not like you could have known that this would happen."

"I know." Jack scowled down at his latest invention. His eyes were hurting, his back ached, and his fingers were stiff. He had been going without a proper break all day. "I wish I knew what the Chosen are up to. I guess it wasn't hard for them to find out about all the kids being here; but what are they planning to do next? They can't really hope to keep working alongside Tribe Fury? And surely they don't think they can beat them?"

"Maybe. They seem to be working together for the moment, but the Guardian won't stand for a joint empire. He probably thinks he can get everybody in the city behind him, and maybe drive the Furies out. He honestly believes that everybody loves him, and will follow him and Zoot." He shrugged, almost apologetically. "He still thinks I'm his loyal lieutenant. That's why he took me with him, when he made that underground base in the sewers. He can't believe that the rest of us don't want to be a part of his fantasy."

"Great. So he thinks he can put together a loyal army of devoted Zoot converts, and go up against Tribe Fury. Armed with what? Power and chaos slogans?"

"Probably."

"It would be a massacre."

"Yeah." Luke was looking increasingly restless and awkward. "It's all nuts. Always was, wasn't it. I used to be a part of it, and now... now I can't understand why."

"Because it's nuts out there, and the Guardian looked like he had a way to make it less nuts. Loads of people fell for his talk." Jack thought back to the days trapped in the Mall, listening to the speeches and the lessons supposed to turn them all into members of the new religion. Plenty of people had succumbed, and it wasn't up to him to blame them for it. He made a few more adjustments to his wires and their attendant batteries, then put them down and leaned back against the wall. "I'm sick of this place. It's cramped and uncomfortable, and there's not enough air. Much more of this, and I'll be willing to join the Chosen."

"Yeah. If we're lucky we'll be given a half decent meal before we're executed." Luke was feeling morose again. "You really think the others are coming, Jack?"

"They'll come. If they're still alive, they'll come. Lex is like that. He doesn't give up. I know he always acts like he doesn't give a toss about any of us, and maybe he doesn't - but he wouldn't like to see the Chosen win, either. This is his home turf, and he'll protect it."

"I hope so."

"I know so." Jack scowled at all his strewn equipment, and his myriad of home-made weaponry that might all turn out to be so much unnecessary junk. "Is there anything to eat?"

"A can of rice pudding." Luke threw it at him. "I didn't really get much of a chance to look for food. I had some pretty lengthy shopping lists, remember?"

"Doesn't matter. We should be getting the water for the bombs, anyway. Think you can get up onto the roof? The rain reservoir should be full."

"So long as there's no guard posted up there, it'll be easy." Luke sighed. "Just seemingly pointless."

"It's never pointless." Jack pointed to the old hot water tank, which occupied so much of the space in this section of the loft. "There's some rubber tubing up on the roof. See if you can run a length down into that, and then we won't have to carry the balloons up and down the ladder. And stay low. We don't know who might be on the other roofs."

"If I get shot, we'll find out." Luke headed for the hatch that led up to the roof; not his favourite route for getting up there, since it had none of the stability or directness of the stairs. "If that happens..."

"If that happens, I'll run out and shoot back with one of your blowpipes." There was only the faintest trace of sarcasm in Jack's voice. "Now hurry up."

"Because the rescue squad are already hammering on the doors, needing our support." Luke sighed, and eased open the hatch. All they needed was for somebody to be near to it, and all of this would be over in a heartbeat. Fortunately the roof was deserted. He leaned back down to Jack, and grinned at the bright red head beneath him. "Better luck next time."

"You haven't finished yet."

"Thanks." It wasn't hard to find the rubber tubing, intended as part of the system that carried rainwater from the purifiers down to the all important taps in the Mall below. He climbed up the side of the big water tank, and dropped one end of the tubing down into the deep reservoir of water, then laid out the rest of it along the roof, back to the hatch. There was just enough to reach the water tank, and after some heavy sucking to create a siphon, Jack pushed it through one of the holes that had once carried a supply pipe. The water rang surprisingly loudly into the tank, and he winced.

"I hope that doesn't sound as loud as I think it does."

"Sounds pretty loud to me." Luke swung back down into the loft. "They'll probably think there's a leak, after all that rain. Not going to think it's two people hiding up here trying to make water bombs to throw at them, are they."

"Suppose not." The smaller boy sighed in his usual dramatic fashion. "Okay. The flour bombs."

"Filled with invisible flour."

"Not necessarily. This is a big loft. There's a lot of dust up here. There's also a whole lot of... guano. From the birds and the bats."

"Guano? What the hell is guano?" Luke caught the expression on Jack's face and frowned. "Or don't I want to ask?"

"Just find something you can use as a pair of gloves, and come on." Jack was already on his way. "And bring a sack, if we have any."

"An old carrier bag do?"

"As long as it doesn't have any holes in the bottom."

"Fine." Luke retrieved the required bag, and hurried after his companion. "I have a powerful suspicion that I'm going to be hating you before much longer."

"You're probably not wrong."

They bent to their somewhat distasteful task in the midst of yet another squabble, which only intensified when Luke saw what guano really was. He scooped it up nonetheless, dry, powdery and smelling revolting, and felt highly grateful that he wasn't the one who was going to have it thrown at him. So much for sitting down to share that tin of cold rice pudding, he thought morosely. Not that cold rice pudding was exactly inviting, but it had been a very long time since he had eaten anything at all. He wasn't altogether sure that he would be wanting anything by the time he had stuffed half a dozen balloons with the dusty contents of the carrier bag. All the same, he had nothing better to do; no better plans. It wasn't better to be sitting around up here with nothing to do and nothing to hope for. So whatever his misgivings, and whatever his hunger and discomfort, he spent the next half hour inflating balloons, stretching their necks, and filling them up with water or powder. Most of the time they escaped before the work was half completed, and by the end of it his trousers were wringing wet and plastered in dust of a highly suspicious origin. He tied the neck of the last balloon, and laid it on the floor at his feet.

"Finished. And if anybody is coming, they better come before these things deflate. I don't want to go making any more of them." He stretched his stiff fingers and stood up, washing his hands in the hot water tank. They had disconnected the tubing when it had looked like they were about to be flooded, and the sound of the trickling water had gone. It was almost a shame. The loft had grown oppressive in its silence and its stillness, and though Jack seemed to see something friendly in its dark corners, Luke most certainly did not.

"So have I." Jack also stood up. "What time is it?"

"Like that makes any difference?" Luke checked his watch, one of the only ones Jack knew of in the city that was still kept accurate. It had fascinated him at first, for he had long got used to there being no such thing as real time, real hours, real days. Now he asked for such information only when he wanted to be distracted. "It's eight o'clock. That's pm, in case you were wondering."

"Oh." Jack rubbed at his eyes, smearing the streak of white paint that decorated one cheek. "Don't suppose you've got any chocolate?"

"Oddly enough, no. I've got a tin of rice pudding. It's not even chocolate flavour. Jack, can we take a break and actually eat something?"

"Yeah, I guess. There's nothing else we can do right now anyway."

"You don't want to organise another little trip downstairs, and collect some more bric-a-brac?"

"I don't think so." Jack picked up the can from where it had lain since Luke had thrown it at him earlier, and turned it over to look for the ring pull. His fingers paused, though, before he tugged off the lid. "Did you hear something?"

"My stomach rumbling?"

"No." Jack hesitated a moment longer, then shrugged and started once again to open the tin. Again he stopped. "Are you sure you didn't hear anything?"

"Jack, will you just open the damn can?!" Luke reached out to snatch it away, but before he grabbed it, he too stopped. "Hang on. What was that?"

"Exactly! You see?!" Jack tossed the can to him, then stood up and went to the door that led back down to the Mall. He tugged it open. Sounds rose more easily to them then; shouts, clatters; the sounds of a clear disturbance. "Do you think...?"

"Are you kidding? Lex? No way." Luke pushed past him, swinging down the ladder to the next floor down. It was taking a risk, but usually the top floor was left empty, save when the regular patrols went by. Jack almost fell down next to him.

"You can't say that doesn't sound like there's something going on?"

"Maybe. But how would anybody have got in?" Luke led the way to the main staircase, peering down. "It's crazy to think it, Jack. I want it to be true as much as you do. More. I hate that damn attic! But how could anybody get into the Mall without getting captured or shot?"

"I know." Jack's shoulders slumped, and he looked suddenly very young. "But something's got them in a whirl down there, right?"

"We can take a look I suppose." The sight of his usually enthusiastic companion becoming so dejected was enough to make Luke soften. "Just be careful. I don't want to get captured after spending all day making those weapons. It'd be hell of a waste."

"I suppose it would." Jack stepped back to allow the other boy to lead the way, and together they crept down the top flight of stairs. It was easier to see what was going on then, for the banister gave them a view of what remained of the lobby. Creeping down a few more steps, they could see to the door of Jack's old workshop, and the place where they had first seen the Chosen as they had entered the Mall. A couple of blue-robed guards stood there now, night sticks in hand, apparently talking to someone that the two watching boys couldn't see. There were other voices too; other people who moved in and out of sight, all dressed in blue and carrying night sticks or rifles. Rifles. Luke's eyes narrowed. The Chosen had never really gone in for guns in the past. Apparently they really had made this a joint operation with Tribe Fury. He could almost respect the Guardian for that; using an enemy to help gain control of the city. He was probably doing his best to convert the Fury troops as well, amalgamating his own forces with theirs. Clever. He was a man deserving of some respect, anyway, even if he did make Luke's skin crawl these days.

"What do you think is going on?" whispered Jack. Luke shrugged.

"No idea. Looks like they're talking to someone. Whoever it was must have been let in by the guards, but all that shouting doesn't make it seem like it's anybody they're happy to see."

"Somebody on our side then?" Jack's enthusiasm came out for an encore, but Luke didn't feel nearly so cheerful. Not since whoever had just entered the Mall had clearly been captured without accomplishing anything. He crept down another couple of stairs, but still couldn't quite see who it was. He just saw some of the kids, creeping out of the corridor, watching the Chosen guards with wide eyes. Trudy was there too, coming up behind them. Crawling down beside Luke, Jack saw her step falter. He couldn't see her face properly, but he heard her gasp, and could only imagine her widening eyes.

"Bray!" She was running forward then, and the guards with their night sticks were rushing to stop her. Jack's hands tightened on the banister when he saw the force they used, but he was sensible enough to know that there was nothing he could do. There was no need to intercept her like that; what could Trudy do? One girl of no great size, with all those armed guards to stand against her? It was a display of strength, he knew; a way of showing the young children gathering around that they should never try to stand up to the might of the Chosen, and it left an unpleasant taste in the mouths of both watching boys.

"Trudy!" For a second Bray was visible, running towards the girl he had known for so long; then two guards stepped in front of him, pulling him back to where Jack and Luke could no longer see him. Trudy was struggling though, still trying to get to him, and after a second the guards let both of them go. They ran towards each other, hugging fiercely in the centre of what was left of the once grand lobby.

"Bray." Jack wasn't sure whether to grin broadly, or feel sick to the stomach. He seemed to be settling for both. "He wouldn't just walk in, would he? I mean, he'd know he'd be caught. And this is the Chosen. They hate him."

"He's either lost his mind, or he's got something up his sleeve." Luke began to edge back up the stairs, suddenly afraid that they might be seen at what might just prove to be a crucial moment. "We should get hold of the weapons, Jack."

"You think?" Delighted, Jack followed him up, casting one last look back at the pair in the lobby. They had separated now, and the guards were closing in around them. "You think we should attack straight away?"

"Not quite, no. But if something is going to happen, and he hasn't just broken in here like an idiot, I don't think it'll be long." Hauling himself back up the ladder to the attic, Luke emptied out the rest of the mess from the carrier bag, and filled it up with the doctored jam jars. "Is all of your stuff ready to go?"

"I suppose."

"Good." Luke clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm sorry Jack. I've been pretty negative so far, but it looks like you were right. You've done a good job here today."

"You hope. This could all be about nothing. Bray might just have walked into a trap."

"Yeah, but we're not going to think that way." Luke stared at him, new strength in his eyes. "Right?"

"Right." Stuffing his pockets with his catapults and their ammunition, Jack hefted up the battery with its various wires, and hurried back to the ladder. If they were lucky, this was the beginning of the end. He didn't want to think about other possibilities. Like Luke, he just wanted this to end.

Bray didn't think he had ever felt so exposed as when he had walked up to the Mall and let the guards usher him inside. All the way he had expected just to be shot; after all, it wasn't as though they had any special reason to keep him alive. He was a known enemy of the Chosen, and any properly loyal members would know that. He had no idea how loyal these ones were, but for them to have been picked for such a detail suggested that they were amongst the most trusted recruits; and either way he was taking a big risk. They checked him for weapons with predictable heavy-handedness, but they didn't touch the pair of necklaces that he was wearing. He had been counting on that.

"Bray." Trudy was behaving as though she hadn't seen him for years. He wasn't sure how long it was; not anymore. He just knew that it was wonderful to be back with her again. Strange how she could have annoyed him so much for so long, and yet always be so welcome a sight when he returned to her. He held her hand as the guards ushered them out of the lobby and back along the corridor. There were kids everywhere; clustered in groups, watching with big, round eyes. Some he recognised, most he didn't.

"How's Brady?" he asked in the end. He was thinking about his son, and Trudy's daughter seemed just as important right now. If she was alright, Eden could be too. If Trudy was allowed to keep Brady, surely Amber would be allowed to keep Eden?

"Fine. Growing every day. Missing her uncle." She squeezed his hand. "Bray, I thought I'd never see you again. For so long we thought you were dead, and then you weren't, and then there was no word either way... I was so worried."

"Shut up," one of the guards told her. She scowled, without bothering to turn around and direct the glare at him. Bray smiled.

"Things were complicated." The smile had felt like an empty one to him, and clearly Trudy saw that it was not especially real. She knew him too well.

"Are you really okay?" she asked. He shrugged.

"I've been better. A whole lot better."

"I said, shut up." The guard pushed the pair of them onwards. "Now hurry it up."

"We're hurrying." Bray's hand went to the two necklaces, toying with them restlessly. He had to time his moment, and he had to time it well. They were in the main corridor at the moment; another turn, another few paces, and there were windows on his right. Big windows, that looked out into the street, all boarded up now. Other windows, smaller, higher up in the wall and still letting in light. They were less of a security risk since it was harder to see in through them, and only a madman would try to break in through them. A crazy man or Lex, which might well be the same thing. Very slowly he squeezed Trudy's hand, and very slowly she squeezed back. She knew that something was coming. He trusted her to trust in him and let it happen.

He moved so fast that it was a surprise even to him, whipping the two necklaces from his throat and hurling them to the ground. They hit hard, hard enough to smash the two large beads that hung from each chain, spilling dark liquid onto the floor. The liquids mingled, connecting together with a fizz and a hiss, and immediately smoke began to rise. It came in clouds; thick, copious clouds, billowing up from the floor in a volume apparently hugely disproportionate to the amount of liquid that had triggered it. The chemical reaction was an impressive one, and it was a second or more before Bray tugged Trudy to one side, and reached, in the same scrabbling, half-desperate movement, for a small, brightly coloured cylinder hidden inside his shirt. He thought for a moment that he had lost it, but eventually his fingers scraped against something; a length of cord, attached to one end of the cylinder. He snatched at it and pulled, and seconds later the cylinder was tumbling out of his shirt and onto the floor. The guards nearby were yelling and dashing about, but for the most part they were taking no notice of the twosome crouched on the floor. Bray was under no illusions about that lasting, however, and was trying to watch them, the various small children present, Trudy, and the little device now trying to roll away from him across the floor. Trudy pounced on it, and caught it before it could roll under the heels of the scattered guards.

"A rape alarm?" It wasn't by any means what she would have expected him to be carrying, but he gave her a smile and a nod.

"Set it off. You know how?"

"Yes. We used to get talks you know, back at school in the old days." She held it up, and gave one end a good, hard tug. Even as she did so she was flinching away. Trudy had heard an alarm like this before - Bray hadn't. When the wild, screeching undulations broke forth from the comparatively tiny cylinder, he jerked backwards, shocked, and crashed into one of the guards. They fell together, rolling, and Trudy lost sight of them in the clouds of smoke. Somebody was throwing water on it, trying to defeat the billowing clouds, but the smoke was apparently impervious. Climbing back to her feet, Trudy hurried forward, yelling for Bray above the manic howling of the alarm. Smoke blew in her face. She saw nothing else.

And then the glass above her exploded inwards in a shower of sharp rain, and she gave a cry and ran back; back towards the huddled children to shepherd them away. There were people; just shapes in the smoke, bursting through the windows and jumping down. One, two, three, five, seven - she didn't know how many, and she couldn't see enough detail to know if they were people that she knew. She saw only that they were not wearing robes, which was reason enough to be glad of their presence. Beyond that they might have been anyone.

"Trudy, what's going on?" A boy no more than seven years old - Daniel, she told herself. They all had names, just as long as she could remember them - was grabbing at her arm. She smiled at him, as reassuringly as she could. In here they were all her children - she was mother to every one of them, and it was always to her that they turned. Lately there was nobody else.

"It's okay," she told him. She believed it. Bray had made the smoke. It had to have been as a distraction, and then the alarm had been a signal. These people leaping through the windows - they were here to help, they had to be. But already it could be too late. Already there were more guards, racing down the corridor from both sides. The smoke blew, in the slipstream of so many struggling bodies, and she saw Lex, dropping a Chosen guard with a solid punch. Bray ebbed back into view, tangled with a pair of their guards from earlier, and she fought the desire to rush to his assistance. She had the children to think about. Snatching Daniel's hand, and shouting to the others, she made a break for it down the corridor. Several of the guards turned as though to stop her, but they had more pressing matters to deal with. There were perhaps twenty or more intruders now, all of them with guns, though none of them had fired as yet. The Chosen were not so circumspect. A bullet crashed into the wall just above Trudy's head, and fighting the urge to duck, she swung little Daniel up into her arms, and shouted at the children to run. Run they did, down the corridor, around the corner, out of the smoke and the immediacy of the rape alarm's nauseating sound. The other children were gathered at the door of their playroom, gazing out into the corridor with wide, questioning eyes.

"Get back!" She ushered them all back inside, calling to the older children to help her to shut the door. They reacted with the speed of young veterans in the fighting game, slamming it shut, and building up a barrier in front of it, of cushions, chairs and the larger of their toys. She gathered them all together then, on the far side of the room - the big ones, the small ones, the tiny ones - and settled little Brady down beside her. Her daughter seemed happy enough, oblivious to smoke, noise and people fighting. Trudy might have envied her, had she been able to spare the time to think about it. Instead she could only count and recount the children, and hope that they were all in here, and were safe. She knew all too well that at any moment the Chosen could choose to make good their threats and begin executing their young hostages. The Chosen kept their promises; on that score at least they could be trusted.

"Trudy?" There was a little hand tugging at her sleeve. Judy, as far as she remembered. Hell, when had she become so bad with names? When she had been charged with looking after so many children, or just when the windows had broken above her head?

"What?" she asked, taking care that her voice should be as level and as calm as possible. Judy looked towards the door.

"Are they friends?" she asked. Not What's going on? Not What are those noises? She knew what fighting sounded like; what gunfire was. She knew to ask the important questions instead; which side were the combatants on?

"Yes, they're friends," she told the girl. Some of them at least. Who the hell have you brought with you, Bray? she wondered. Just who were those people fighting her captors, and what would happen once it was all over, whichever side happened to win? It was horrible to be so impotent, but she knew that she was doing the right thing. Her first responsibility was to the children. Let the others take care of themselves.

'The others' were not doing too badly. They seemed to be evenly matched for numbers, and less than half of the Chosen had guns. The rest had their night sticks which, whilst they might be useless against the more heavily armed intruders, were fine against those of them, like Bray and Chloe, who were not armed. Chloe, needless to say, was not supposed to be a part of the attacking army, but had gone along anyway. Salene was still looking for her outside.

"I can't believe it." Sheltering on the stairway, Luke glanced down at Jack. "I'd ask you to pinch me and see if it's for real, but you'd only do it too hard."

"It's for real." Jack's eyes were wide. "They really came, Luke."

"Yeah. We should probably help them." They stayed where they were for a moment, drinking in the sight of billowing smoke and battling figures all spilling into the broken lobby, then glanced at each other again.

"We should probably help them." This time it was Jack who said it, and he said it with a broad grin. Luke nodded.

"Race you." They made a dash then, for their waiting collection of jerry-built weaponry. One of the water balloons popped instantly and, soaking wet, the over-excited duo all but slid down the top flight of stairs. Luke laughed. It felt highly inappropriate, but for some reason that made it all the funnier.

"Don't touch the banister," ordered Jack, who was winding wires around the metal support struts. Luke blinked at him. He didn't argue. You didn't argue with Jack when he had one of his plans underway. Instead, carried away on the spur of the moment, he merely hurled one of the balloons over the banister. Quite by chance it struck one of the Chosen square on the top of the head, and showered him with evil smelling dust.

"Have you got that jammer turned on?" Choosing not to whoop with delight at the success of his first missile, Luke looked back to Jack instead. The smaller boy nodded.

"It ought to stop them reporting in about this. As far as I know. I mean, I can't be sure."

"You're a bloody genius, Jack."

"Yeah. I know." Grinning wildly, Jack grabbed another of the balloons, and hurled it from the stairs. He was a genius - but he was a lousy shot. The balloon whirled and flopped its way across the lobby, and slammed into the back of Lex's head. Jack ducked. Luke laughed.

It was by no means a light-hearted fight. The guns saw to that even when the fights and the night sticks and the plain and simple anger didn't - but there was a chaos to it all that might have been funny under different circumstances. For Jack and Luke the humour soon faded away, when they saw the blood on the lobby floor, and heard the cries of pain. They didn't stop though; they knew that they couldn't. Several of the Chosen had wrenched the guns away from their attackers. There were bullets ringing out every which way, people slipping on water, dust and mud. Every so often somebody tried to take to the stairs, but every time they snatched at the banisters to steady themselves on the slippery steps, and Jack's set up of battery and wires sent them stumbling away again. It wasn't a powerful enough battery to cause real damage, but it was enough to discourage any attempt to gain higher ground, at least for now. Luke's blowpipes, with their acidic darts, added to the confusion and the irritation, even though his aim, in the chaos, was not much better than Jack's. Most of the darts missed their targets, but enough struck home to cause pain, and to distract a few people who might otherwise have fought rather better. The catapults served likewise, and the smoke bombs confused everybody's aim. It was the Molotov cocktails, though - small as they were - that really made a difference.

Ryan saw the first one. He was laying about him with his fists, having abandoned his gun, battering any of the enemy who came within range, and trying not to notice that the Chosen were doing far better than he would have liked. The water, dust and smoke bombs that exploded around him every so often were a clever distraction, but they hampered his own side as much as the enemy, which made them only partially effective. There was no doubt that they had saved lives, but they were decidedly indiscriminate over who they saved, and when. When the first explosion made the floor tremble beneath his feet, however, and showered him with the dust and water that the balloons had already liberally scattered him with once, he stumbled backwards and swore eloquently. Not being the most eloquent of people much of the time, it was something of an indication of his surprise.

"Bloody hell!" Luke, who had thrown the bomb, stared at his hand as though to chastise it for the motion. "Jack!"

"What?" Jack was unrepentant. He had made bombs. He had helped. That was good. His frequent lack of practical thought rather prohibited him from thinking about what was likely to happen when bombs got thrown about in a crowded lobby. The practical side of things was Dal's job.

"I..." There was no point in arguing. The battle had to be won. Luke threw another bomb as best he could, and thanked the heavens that they were only small. He didn't think he could kill anybody with them. Just annoy them. A lot. Another explosion stirred up the dust again, and spattered several people with water. Luke got the distinct impression that he and Jack were going to be shot no matter who won this fight.

The battle raged for perhaps half an hour in all, but even though the Chosen put up a good fight, the Molotov cocktails, as well as the water bombs, eventually took their toll more upon the enemy than upon the liberators. Perhaps it was mere chance, or perhaps it was Luke and Jack becoming more proficient at throwing, but eventually the Chosen, many wounded, all dripping wet and exhausted, were lined up against one wall and forced to surrender. Jack let out a triumphant cheer that earned him a ferocious glare from Lex, who was as soaked as the enemy and not appreciating it. As the dust settled, and the water began to drain away, a vengeful Ebony marched the Chosen off to a temporary holding area. Jack disconnected his contraption from the banisters, and in celebration of what he saw as his genius, slid rather gracelessly down them. KC and Chloe congratulated him joyfully, and Lex glared. Archer and his Fury rebels paid him no attention at all.

"We won!" All but ready to begin dancing, KC gave Chloe an impetuous hug, then broke off looking hugely embarrassed. Lex glared at him.

"Put that gun down, or you'll shoot somebody. And where the hell did you get it from, anyway? I thought I said you weren't coming in here armed?"

"I got it from one of the Chosen." KC put it down obediently enough, then grabbed Chloe's hands and spun her around in a merry circle. "We won!"

"We've freed the Mall. Temporarily." Lex looked down at himself, soaking wet and filthy as he was, and scowled. "Jack, what the bloody hell was all that about?"

"I was helping." Rather put out, Jack ceased pounding KC on the back in his triumph, and stood looking wounded instead. Luke stood beside him, faintly chastened.

"Helping? That what you call it?" Deciding that his shirt was a write-off, Lex considered peeling it off, but eventually chose not to. He had kept some spares in the Mall, but he had no idea if they would still be where he had left them. "Forget it. For now. We have other things to worry about."

"Such as?" asked Bray. He was coming over, collecting up fallen weapons with distaste, and stacking them in the centre of the room. Lex gestured about.

"Such as this place. The Chosen are bound to be in radio contact with their headquarters. They'd have to be, wouldn't they, for their threats about the kids here to be of any use. If they got off any messages, there could be reinforcements heading our way now. We probably don't have long before they get here. We should think about barricades, and getting the kids out."

"Shouldn't matter." Growing back to his full height again as his moment of self-pity subsided, Jack was back to his previous bouncy demeanour. "I built a jamming device. It's a bit flimsy, but it should have done the job. I turned it on as soon as I realised that Bray had come here. Figured there had to be something going on." He grinned broadly, well aware of the quiet admiration in Bray's eyes, as well as the less subtle praise shining in KC's face. It was pleasant to bask in the moment; Jack was by no means the least conceited of boys. Lex didn't smile, but his glare softened, and he nodded in the end.

"Okay. Go and turn it off. I don't want anybody getting suspicious if they're trying to contact the people here. No, hang on. Do you know how many Chosen are based here?"

"Not really. We've been hiding, so we haven't had a good look about. I'd guess they all joined in for the fighting, unless somebody made a break for it." Luke shrugged. "Not that the Chosen do usually run, but you can never know what their orders were."

"I'll begin a sweep." Archer signalled to his remaining men, and they marched smartly from the room. Of all the Fury rebels only Racha remained now, for the others had escorted the prisoners away, and had not yet returned.

"Making sweeps for the strays, cleaning up your messes. You'll be wanting to rebuild the place next." He was restless. "We've helped you; you've got your Mall back. This baby you care so much about is safe now, Bray. As safe as anybody in the world these days. Now spread the word, take the children out into the streets, and get your army together. Share out your guns. And come with me to the hotel."

"The hotel?" Jack whistled. "Not meaning any disrespect, especially as I don't know who the hell you are, but the hotel? That's where the enemy is."

"It's where my friend is." Racha had ceased all pretence of caring for his rebellion; his interest now was solely in Silver, and in finding out what had happened to his friend. "We all want the Guardian gone. Dead, exiled, imprisoned - I don't care in the slightest. But he's done something to Tribe Fury, and I want to know what."

"He'll have wriggled his way in." Luke spoke up with the awkwardness he usually displayed when talking of the Chosen. "He's an expert at that. He'll make himself appear to be a friend, and he'll smile and say what he knows you want to hear. He can make you trust him just by smiling at you the right way. Then by the time you realise that he's psychotic, and that it's all about his religious fanaticism, it's too late." He looked awkward. "I know him very well."

"Whatever." Racha's dark eyes sought out Bray once again. "We need to make a move. It won't take long before somebody realises what's happened here. By the time the news gets through to the hotel, we should already have spread it ourselves amongst the civilians. The Independents. Got them to come with us."

"He's right." Lex would rather have liked to rest, but he could see the sense in what Racha was saying. If they were to keep the initiative, it was important to keep moving. "Bray - round up the kids. Trudy's been using the old furniture store as a playroom for them. They're probably in there. KC, go and get Salene. She'll be useful in handling the children, and she'll be worried about us by now anyway. Jack--"

"Yeah?" Jack looked rather nervous, as though expecting to be berated once again for his rather erratic assistance during the fight. Lex merely smiled at him faintly.

"Good work. Now turn off that jammer and start clearing this place up. If we survive whatever fight is coming, we'll be wanting somewhere to live. Luke?"

"What?" The other boy looked faintly unsure of himself. There was another showdown approaching, and this time it was one that would concern the Guardian. Somehow he didn't trust himself where his former commander was concerned. The Guardian had a power over him that he couldn't explain.

"With us or with Jack?" asked Lex. It was a simple enough question. Luke didn't answer it straight away though. Should he go with them, and see about confronting the Guardian? Perhaps for the last time? Or should he stay here, and help to fix the place he had helped to all but destroy? He shook his head in the end.

"I don't know. I liked believing that the Guardian was dead before."

"He soon will be," seethed Racha. Luke smiled faintly, though not with any real pleasure.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps he'll escape again. I don't want him to take me with him the next time, that's for sure. I think I'll stay here. But thanks for the offer, Lex. If you don't think you need me, I'll stay and help clean up. Makes sense not to leave the place too empty."

"True." Lex nodded, his mind already turning to new concerns and, sure that things were beginning to move once again, Bray left on his own designated mission. He was suddenly anxious to be sure that Trudy was okay.

"Hello?" The door was barricaded, and he couldn't move it an inch. "Trude? Is everything okay in there?"

"Bray?" There was a moment's inactivity, as of somebody struggling with obstacles, barriers, blockages - then suddenly the door was flung open. Small children spilled out of the room around his feet - three, four, five year olds, all overly decorated with absurd amounts of face paint. Seven, eight, nine year olds, looking as though they would like to join in with whatever fighting might still be going on. And behind them, Brady clutched in her arms, was Trudy. She was staring at Bray with wild hope in her eyes.

"It is over?" she asked him, rather wondering if perhaps they hadn't lost, and he was just coming to bring her the bad news. He grinned lopsidedly, suddenly feeling awkward in her company.

"Yeah." He shrugged. "Well, this bit is. We're going on to the hotel."

"You're what?" She looked horrified, the hope draining from her eyes to be replaced with nothing but despair. "Bray - the hotel?"

"We made a deal. Sort of. And anyway, we've got to go sometime. Lex thinks the other kids will come with us now that the children are safe. He says he's got weapons for everybody, and we've got a few of the Furies with us. Lex, Ebony and Ryan are worth several men each, you know that." He shrugged again, feeling increasingly awkward without understanding why. "I think we'll do okay."

"I wish I shared your confidence." She held out the baby. "Like to say goodbye to your niece before you leave? There's a good chance you won't be coming back."

"She won't remember me if I don't." He took the baby anyway, feeling strange holding her, with the thoughts of his own son. She frowned then.

"Where is Amber? Will she be going with you to the hotel?"

"She's already there." He shrugged, trying to make light of something that seemed to be burning up his insides with greater ferocity every moment. "She's joined them there. Sort of. She lured me and the others into a trap. Sold us out to the Chosen. She did it for her baby - our baby - but either way, I don't think she--" He shrugged. "Oh, who the hell knows." He looked down at the baby in his arms - a baby that wasn't even his, but which he knew so much better than his own. It was far easier to think that he was fighting for Brady's sake than for Eden's. Brady was a continuation of Martin. She was a part of somebody he had cared for for most of his life. Eden was a stranger who had torn Amber away. He looked up, and for a second Trudy saw what seemed to be tears sparkling in the corners of his eyes. She leaned over and gave him a hug. It was chaste enough, but it felt illicit somehow. He smiled.

"I'll see you soon, Trude."

"You'd better. I can't manage without you, Bray. Brady and I need you - and whatever happens with Amber, I want you to know that that'll always be true. Understand?"

"Yeah." He smiled, a little less awkwardly this time. Good old Trudy. Always there. Always where he needed her to be. Feeling a burst of an ages-old affection, he handed the child back, and found it to be quite a wrench. Maybe it was his own child he wanted to be with, and that was why Brady felt so pleasant in his arms. He had never thought of himself as much of one for children in the past, but he knew that it wasn't just because of Amber that the thought of Sasha made jealousy curdle his thoughts. His smile fluttered back out for a tentative encore. "I'm glad you're okay, Trude. Both of you. I know I... well, I don't say that sort of thing often enough, do I."

"Bray, if you keep talking like that, I'm going to start thinking that you're not planning on coming back." She squeezed his hand. "Go. Just make sure that you survive. Agreed?"

"Agreed." His eyes lingered upon the baby, and he couldn't help thinking, once again, about Eden. Did Eden look anything like Brady? Were there signs of Martin in his eyes too? Would Bray see his own mother or father in the hair or the face, or the smile when it eventually came? He hoped that he got the chance to find out. It was with slow feet that he made his way back to the lobby.

"Everything okay?" asked Ebony. The children were scampering around the place like the maddened hordes of hell unleashed for a few hours' merrymaking, and it was hard, momentarily, to be heard. He frowned at her.

"What?"

"I said, is everything okay?" She came to stand beside him, and reached out to wipe at something on his face. Paint. It wasn't his own. Had Trudy kissed him? He didn't remember. Perhaps one of the children had, as they had made their tumultuous escape from the playroom. Either way he didn't understand the guarded look in Ebony's eyes at the sight of it. He shrugged.

"Everything's fine. Brady is fine. I guess the Chosen didn't have a chance to do anything. They didn't take her away." It was amazing what a weight off his mind that had been. The idea of the Chosen having control of his brother's daughter was one that made his mind rage just as much as the thought of them having Amber and Eden. He struggled to smile. "I take it we're off again now?"

"Lex has gone to see who he can find. He'll be lucky though - it's still mad out there. You can hear gunshots if you listen."

"Yeah. We'll have a job getting to the hotel."

"Not if there's enough people with us. It's not that far to go." She took his hand, and felt it stiffen in her own. "Bray?"

"What?"

"What if she's not there? What if neither of them are?"

"Then I'll keep looking until I find them.Wherever they've gone." It was a certainty; something that he knew he would have to do. If nothing else he had to tell Amber that he didn't really blame her for what she had done; and he had to hold his son, even if it was only once.

"I'll come with you," she offered, and he was sure that she meant it. He smiled.

"You, me and Trudy? I couldn't leave her and Brady behind. Not if I have to be away for a long time. I'm not losing them again."

"You, me and Trudy." She didn't sound at all pleased about that. If he had been the type to realise the interest paid in him by others, he would have heard the jealousy in her words. Instead he merely smiled, and disengaged his hand from hers.

"Just like old times, hey. The school dances, when the pair of you couldn't choose between the pair of us. Made Martin mad." He flinched then, when he realised what he had said. Martin had, after all, gone quite, quite mad. "Anyway, that's only what happens if they've gone. We've got to worry about the hotel itself first. We should join the others outside. See what kind of an army we're going to get."

"It'll never be a big enough one. It never could be."

"Scared?" He couldn't help but smile at her. She smiled right back.

"Nothing scares me, Bray."

"I wish I could say the same. Come on. Racha will be agitating."

"He fancies you, you know." She was grinning when she said it; a little bit of teasing, of the kind that had been absent for too long. Bray just frowned. As ever he was oblivious to such things.

"Then he must be crazy."

"When he could have me, you mean?" She couldn't help it; flirting and games were second nature to her. Bray just smiled.

"Yeah. I suppose." He took her hand, almost without thinking, and made her confused all over again. "Come on. We'll have to collect the rest of those weapons before we can get started." And going to the place where he had met Danni would in no way complicate matters further still.

When they set out, there were more of them than they had thought there would be. Maybe it was the anger at the return of the Chosen; maybe it was just the frustration - the people of the city wanting a chance to get rid of both the sets of invaders. Perhaps it was the guns, for there was certainly no shortage of them. Even some of the Fury soldiers they met on the way joined in with the marching army. It was the sight of Racha, no doubt, striding confidently at the head of the crowd, his rifle resting on his shoulder, his back textbook straight; one of their own, leading the colourful hordes on to their objective. He greeted them all with a nod or a salute, depending on how they first greeted him, and welcomed each one by name. The assorted Mall Rats didn't trust a single one of them, for if they were joining up it was only because of their dissatisfaction with the Chosen alliance; and there was no way of knowing what intentions they might have once the Guardian was gone. It boosted the numbers though, and that at least had to be worth something. An air of tension grew in the column though, as they went onward; a degree of separation between the Independents and the Furies, as well as amongst the Independents themselves. Old grievances, old agitations, rising to the surface in their nervousness. Lex began to wonder if they wouldn't just start shooting each other, long before they actually reached the hotel. And it wasn't even that long a walk.

The hotel itself was surrounded by guards; Furies wearing blue armbands to denote their new loyalty to the Chosen; Chosen acolytes in their blue robes; boys and girls with guns who all turned to face the marching band of intruders. There had been some small exchange of gunfire on the way, but nothing of note. Most of those who had been patrolling the streets had fled at the sight of the army, no doubt hoping to regroup later and make a more proficient assault then. Lex was beginning to worry that it might all turn out to be an anticlimax - until he saw the ranks arranged outside the hotel, and knew that it would be no such thing. Yelling his joy at the chance of another fight, even though he had been wanting a rest just a short time ago, he led his Independents into battle. Only the Fury contingent of the rebel force remained aloof, and with them Bray, Ebony and Tai-San.

"Not fighting?" asked Racha, without looking at anybody in particular as he spoke. Bray answered, for he had become used to all of Racha's words being directed at him.

"No gun," he pointed out. The same was true of Tai-San, but he knew that that was not the reason why she had not followed Lex. She had an interest in the fate of the Guardian, and she suspected that Racha intended to bypass the obstacle of all the guards, and find some way to get into the building. It was what Bray suspected himself, and something of which he planned to make use. He wanted to get inside too; not for Silver or for the Guardian, but for Amber.

"You never carry a gun." Racha's eyes were warm but his words were cold. "Never any use in a fight, Bray. Remember how I wanted you to join me? You were going to get me an army, to fight Silver."

"I did. We did."

"I know. And now you're going to help me to save him." He reached out, almost lazily, and gripped Bray's arm. "You know a way in there? One that'll get us past that lot? I don't want to waste time on a fight that could last all day. We're here. I want in there. Now."

"There's a way." It was Ebony who spoke up, thinking back to the day, seemingly such a long, long time distant, when she had first seen the parachutes raining down from the sky, and had taken her leave of the hotel in order to protect her own life. As far as she knew all of her people had died when the Furies had taken the hotel - all the Mozzies, who had been her bodyguard; all her glory-seeking retinue. She didn't feel especially sorry for them, but she did feel oddly guilty at the thought of her own self-serving escape.

"If you mean the way in through the cellar, it's been closed off," Racha told her. She shook her head.

"Not there. Another one, that leads into the garden out back. Just follow me." She took them quickly, worried that somebody might have found it, even though she didn't really believe that they could. There were sure to be guards there either way, for the back wall of the hotel garden was a part of the perimeter. There were guards - but Archer and a few of his men dealt with them silently, almost before Ebony had really registered their presence. She wondered if they were still alive, but decided in the end not to check.

"And this gets us into the hotel?" For a man who had once been all about games, Racha seemed very single-minded now. She nodded, not bothering to speak. It got them into the garden, anyway - and after that to the obstacle of who knew how many guards. Stepping back out of the way, she watched as they forced through into the garden, one after the other - Racha, Archer, Haines, McKendrick - people she had lived with, and total strangers she didn't trust for a minute. Bray hung back with her, watching everything with his usual dark scrutiny, and Tai-San hovered like an uncertain butterfly, clearly feeling that she should be hurrying in, governed by her odd desire to reach the Guardian before some vengeful Fury. Nobody understood her feelings for him, herself included. It was just one of those oddities that seemed so much a part of all their relationships.

"It's all gone quiet," pointed out Ebony, when they had stood listening to the gunfire in the garden for what seemed like forever. Bray nodded.

"Not all," pointed out Tai-San. The battle still seemed to be raging around the front of the hotel, and there was indecision in her eyes. Lex might be dying, for all she knew, and she had left his side for the Guardian. The guilt of that wasn't easy to shake.

"No, not all." Bray was also worried for Lex - and KC, and Chloe, and Pride, and Ryan. And who knew who else. He sighed. "Come on. We didn't come here to hide outside."

"No, but we were planning not to get shot." Ebony sighed at his persistence, but followed him into the garden quickly enough. It was strange to be back in such a familiar place, and she didn't stop to consider it. Didn't stop to look at the pool, the patio, the trees and the overgrown flowerbeds. A place she had known intimately for a long time now. Bray looked around once, though only once. Tai-San just hurried on through it all.

"Bray." Racha was standing just inside the back door. A few bodies lay about, but whether they were dead or just unconscious was hard to say. Given that they all wore identical uniforms, it wasn't even possible to say which side they had been on. Racha didn't seem too concerned.

"They've gone to secure the building," he said, apparently referring to his people. Even Archer had left his side, hurrying off no doubt in the never-ending search for more people to cheerfully kill. Not that he ever really did anything cheerfully. "I was just on my way downstairs."

"I have to find Amber." Bray didn't have a clue where to start looking, and Racha and Ebony both reached to stop him in the same moment.

"Let them finish fighting it out first," suggested Ebony. It would be insane to start walking the corridors and stairwells now. Bray hesitated, for he had no desire to be separated from Amber for any longer than strictly necessary - but he saw that she was right. He nodded.

"I suppose she'll be okay."

"Amber isn't stupid, Bray." Tai-San sounded as distracted as did he. "She'll keep her head down."

"I know." He also knew that that was no reason to assume she would be safe, or that somebody wouldn't shoot her anyway - but he knew that he wouldn't get anything accomplished whilst he stood around in doorways contemplating bodies, and talking to Racha. He nodded. "Alright. Silver first. Where is he likely to be?"

"In his battle room. One of the guards told me." Racha stared contemptuously down at one of the sprawled bodies. "It's down in the cellar. Apparently he hasn't left there in weeks. The guards hear him talking to himself sometimes, but he's not been seen by anybody except the Guardian." He scowled, looking decidedly unhappy with the situation. "I don't like it. Something's wrong."

"Everything is wrong." Tai-San had somehow moved into the lead, her light, cat-footed tread making no sound. "Enemies work together, friends fight in the streets, well ordered troops embrace chaos just because the Guardian rears his head again. Everything is in a state of imbalance, and there can be no peace until the balance is restored."

"If you say so." Ebony had never quite understood Tai-San's view of the universe, although the idea of there being a madness in everything just now was one that could hardly be denied. Racha pushed past.

"I don't care about imbalance," he said loudly. As if to underline his words, a louder, closer volley of gunfire rang out. Somewhere within it, Bray thought that he heard a tank. He prayed that it was in the hands of his friends, although it seemed unlikely. If the enemy had brought out their heavy artillery, this might all be over in a few minutes.

"You don't have to care. Just to see." Tai-San didn't challenge his right to lead the group, but she did frown at his back. Racha was a part of the imbalance, and she could sense it within him. He was a part of all that was wrong in the city at the moment; a cause of friction and unrest.

"Speak to yourself, Tai-San." Ebony also overtook the girl. Tai-San didn't care. She was used to people laughing at her ideas, her world view. Even Lex did so, and he was her husband and best friend. She reached out a hand to still Bray though, before he could follow the others on past.

"The signs are unmistakable, Bray," she told him. "The tensions are everywhere, like waves in the air. I can feel them. You can too, if you try to."

"I... don't especially want to." He frowned down at her. "Tai-San, you don't need to be connected to the spirit of the world to know that things are crazy right now."

"Not just crazy. Imbalanced. People do strange things when the balance is wrong. Up and down, left and right - all becomes confused. The universe seeks to straighten itself, and we all get caught up in its struggles. This can't be good, Bray. I don't think Racha will find what he wants to find."

"Just so long as I do." He quickened his pace then, hurrying past her after the others. Tai-San followed on, but her own tread was slower now. She doubted that Bray was going to find what he wanted, either. The vibes that she was sensing spoke of nothing but further unrest for all of them.

There were two guards outside Silver's war room. They looked up at Racha's approach, clearly surprised to see him. Like most of those lower ranking Furies who had remained loyal, they had believed the story they had been told of his brainwashing, and were not expecting to see him in the hotel again. He smiled curtly, and nodded at their swift jump to attention.

"I need to see the Lord General," he announced, his voice razor-sharp with authority. He carried that authority well, for the military was still a part of him, no matter his turning his back on it. The guards exchanged an uncomfortable glance.

"I'm sorry, Brigadier," apologised one, a ramrod straight boy of about fifteen. "We have strict orders. Nobody goes in to see him. Not even the company colonels. Only the Guardian goes in there."

"If he'll see the Guardian, he'll see me." Racha's eyes were hot and cold, and inspired obvious fear in the two boys. They exchanged another uncomfortable glance. "Well?"

"I'm sorry sir." The second boy was less ramrod straight; less by the book. "When the Lord General says that he doesn't want to be disturbed--"

"He'll see me." Racha strode up to the door with real purpose, but the boys both stepped up to intercept him. He clearly didn't care, and stiff-arming the pair of them he tried to open the door. Both boys drew their guns.

"I don't think you want to do that." Ebony had already raised her own weapon, and it was pointing leisurely at the pair. Racha paid no more attention to any of them, and seeming not to care whether or not the boys were going to fire at him, he gave the door handle an experimental twist. It turned easily; there would be no need to lock a door once the order was given not to disturb the room's occupant. He wondered who brought Silver his meals, or if the Guardian did that too now, and his body seemed to stiffen with ill-suppressed rage.

"Lord General?" He entered the room as a soldier, but by the time he had moved away from the door he was nothing more than a friend coming in search of a friend. "Silver? Are you here? Robbie?"

"He's not here." It was Bray's voice. The sometime leader of the Mall Rats was standing behind him in the doorway, looking about at the room. He saw maps and model soldiers; books and books and more books, all covered with dust as though unused for some time. Clearly there was nobody in the room at all - he hadn't really expected to find everybody here, but it would have been nice to have found somebody.

"No." Racha wasn't sure what to think. Silver would never abandon his war room when there was still a fight to be fought. He took such things very seriously, for wars were what made soldiers, and turned leaders great. "It doesn't look as though anybody has done anything much in here for ages."

"There's quite a set up though." Advancing into the room, Bray looked about. The maps, set with tiny models showing the progress of the fighting; radios, to put the room's occupant in touch with his troops; a tape-recorder, arranged on a table, its speakers facing the door. Bray toyed with the tape, rewinding it a little way, then turning it on. Static gabbled at him for a moment, then from out of the speakers came a powerful, authoritative voice.

"Colonel Orange, head west. Go as far as the clock tower and set up a base." Bray almost jumped at the unexpected sound, and he clicked the stop button with a frown. His eyes met with Racha's.

"That's Silver's voice." Racha prowled around the tables, coming closer to the tape-recorder, and listened to a little more of the recording. "But why... unless somebody wanted the guards outside to think that he was still in here?"

"Seems likely." Bray looked around the room again. There were signs of a struggle, now that he thought about it. A couple of chairs had been knocked over. At first he had thought it mere untidyness, but now that he had heard the tape, and Racha had suggested a sinister motive for it, nothing else seemed normal anymore. "What do you think happened?"

"Silver's strong. He'd put up a good fight."

"The Guardian is strong, too. And big."

"And the guards presumably didn't hear anything." Racha toyed with the tape-recorder again, glancing up as the door moved to admit Tai-San. She looked disinterestedly about the room, until her eyes alighted upon Bray.

"I suppose you're going to say there's imbalance here," muttered Racha. She eyed him haughtily, then glanced away.

"Not here. There's nothing here. Nothing at all. Usually a room carries imprints of the people who use it, but this room is empty."

"Emptier." Racha began to prowl around the place, kicking at tables and chairs, punching cupboards and surfaces. Little model soldiers flew about, a chair fell over, a cupboard door swung open. For several moments his rage continued, and the furniture continued to bear the brunt of his anger - then all of a sudden he stopped to turn back to Bray. And his eyes came to rest upon the cupboard that had fallen open, and his face drained of all its colour.

"The bastard." For a second he stood there, as pale and as grey as dying smoke, then he turned on one heel and marched from the room. He walked so fast that he seemed to be gone straight away.

"Racha?" Bray started after him, but stopped before he reached the door. What had made the brigadier react that way? Tai-San had already gone to the open cupboard, and Bray joined her there. Suspicion told him what he would see when he looked in the door, but he looked anyway, and for a moment couldn't turn away. He wanted to though. He had no great desire to look upon the wizened and desiccated weeks-dead figure of Silver, Lord General of all Tribe Fury, crumpled up into a ball and stuffed in a cupboard.

"The Guardian." Who else would kill somebody, and make it look as if he was still alive? Who else would use an imaginary alliance to consolidate his control over an army? It had to be the Guardian. Shaking his head, feeling all the more hatred for the leader of the Chosen, Bray turned on his heel and ran.

"What's going on?" asked Ebony at the door. He stared at her for a moment, then turned sharply to the two guards. "Go in there," he told them. "Look at what's in there. You'll have to see that only the Guardian can be responsible. Tell that to your people. Show them. You don't want to continue this alliance any longer."

"What?" Not caring much for the word of somebody not in uniform, the two guards showed no particular desire to comply. After a moment though, curiosity led them inside the room. Ebony watched them go.

"Silver dead?" she asked, with a predictable lack of concern. Bray nodded.

"We should go after Racha."

"Might as well do something. Sounds like the battle is easing up for a bit, anyway. It'll be slow until the reinforcements start arriving from all over."

"Good. Then I maybe I can find Amber." He was running away almost as soon as he had finished speaking, and after a moment to roll her eyes heavenward, she dashed off after. Tai-San followed more slowly, for she had a heavy heart to carry, as well as other burdens. She had hoped to save the Guardian for reasons that she didn't understand, but now she knew that he had sealed his own fate. He would die by Racha's hand now, or Racha would die by his. It was unavoidable. Either way, she knew that the Chosen's dangerous leader was beyond her. In many ways it was probably for the best.

Outside, the guns were still firing, but there was a change in the current of it all. Racha was striding through the fighting as though he believed himself to be bullet-proof, yelling at all who would listen that the Guardian had killed Silver, and that the Chosen were no longer the allies of Tribe Fury. The change that came upon the troops was astounding, even though Racha was supposed to be one of the enemy. His former colleagues didn't seem to doubt him for a moment, as though many of them had had their suspicions for some time, and the testimony of Silver's guards from the war room was all the extra proof they needed. Everywhere the young soldiers were tugging off their blue armbands, and turning on their former comrades-in-arms. The blue robes of the Chosen were falling, the tanks were turning away; and in the middle of it all stood Racha, like a man broken, or a little boy lost. Bray was starting towards him when he saw a group of unarmed civilians being held at gunpoint by the hotel wall, and came to a dead stop. There was a blonde girl. A blonde girl and a red-headed boy, and they were both gesturing to him. He hesitated, torn despite all his wishes to see Amber again; then with a relieved grin, he broke into a run.

"Amber!" He wanted to hug her, but wasn't sure that it would be appropriate. "Amber, I--" He broke off. "Where's the baby?"

"The Guardian." She looked as though she wanted to hug him too, but didn't. "Bray... the Guardian took him. He left... I don't know where he went, but he left before any of this started. He was talking about 'phase four'. I think that's what he said; he kept repeating it. Bray..."

"It's okay. It'll be... it'll be okay." He looked over to Ebony, to Racha, to the people still fighting. "Amber... I'm sorry. I should have come back here with you. It's my fault."

"No." Sasha looked awkward. "I think he was planning this anyway." He put an arm around Amber, clearly seeing that she needed support. She leaned against him, but her eyes were upon Bray. "Phase four. It's obviously part of some plan. Taking over the city? Winning support?"

"I don't know." Bray shook his head, all his emotions mixed up now. Amber and Sasha clinging together, and him not sure whether or not he even cared; the Guardian with his son; the fighting everywhere; guns still blasting the air around him. "But we'll find out. We'll get the baby back, Amber."

"Bray!" Racha's voice carried beautifully above the gunfire, and Bray turned to look towards him automatically. "The Guardian was seen heading south. I'm going after him." There was nothing but poison now in those once warm eyes, but Bray barely noticed. He just nodded, and looked back to Amber and Sasha.

"You see? Are you coming?"

"I can't." Amber couldn't meet his eyes, but he thought that he understood. If there was any chance that something might happen to Eden, she couldn't bear to be there to see it. Bray nodded, and looked towards Sasha.

"Look after her," he said, though his voice nearly caught in his throat. Sasha nodded, very slowly, and very slowly Amber sagged against him. Bray didn't stick around to look at any more.

"Bray!" Chasing after him was Ebony, as always. His ally when everything else was blown to hell. He nodded at her, but didn't speak. "You're going after the Guardian?"

"With Racha."

"And with me." She shouldered her rifle. "And don't try to say otherwise."

"I wouldn't." He didn't look at her, for his eyes were fixed upon inward sights, such as the days when it had been his arms that Amber had sunk into. "I'm glad to have you along."

"Just hurry up." Racha didn't care about their politics, their concerns, or anything else that might exist between the two of them, or between Bray and Amber. "He could have several hours on us. We'll have to move fast."

"There'll be Chosen in the streets," pointed out Bray. Racha's eyes were cold.

"Then there's be Chosen dying in the streets," he said without emotion. "Come on. If you're coming."

"I'm coming." Bray didn't ask why his company was being sought; why Racha wanted him along. He was just anxious to go. Ryan called out to him as the threesome ran on past, but Bray didn't respond. Neither did he answer KC's call, or Chloe's. He didn't even hear them. After a moment, watching the hurrying trio with interest, Lex and Pride broke away from the fighting and followed on after. Neither knew where they were going or why, but they could see that something important was happening, and they knew that they could be of use. Even Pride's confused loyalties didn't slow his response. Bray didn't notice their presence, but Ebony did, and she was glad of it. Wherever they were going, she couldn't help but think that they would need back up. The streets felt crazy as she ran down them; there was an air of menace everywhere, and Tai-San's words came back to her then. Imbalance and unrest. Chaos. Chaos was Ebony's friend, but it didn't feel like it today. It felt dangerous; oppressive. It felt like an end was coming. An end that none of them could escape.

They ran for perhaps an hour in all, sticking to the main road through sheer instinct, and knowing all the time that they could be heading the wrong way. Racha was like a man possessed, blind to everything save the simple act of putting one foot before the other. Every so often a teenager in one uniform or another snapped into view, but usually they disappeared again at the sight of five others, mostly armed, coming their way. Only a few stuck around; Furies, to hear the story of Silver's death, and go racing back to join in the fight at the hotel; and Chosen, to flee in terror, and usually in a hail of bullets. Bray didn't bother trying to intervene; he knew that it would do no good. He didn't think that Racha would shoot him for his interference, but he wasn't altogether sure that he wanted to risk it; and certainly not for the Chosen. Lex kept an eye open for stray Badlanders, but he didn't see any. Somehow he was sure that they had discovered the change in the tide of things, and had made themselves scarce. It seemed a shame; there were scores to be settled there, one way or another. It couldn't be helped now though; now there were other things to worry about.

A young Fury told them a garbled tale of having seen the Guardian heading back towards the Mall, but another denied having seen him. Bray wondered if he might be heading towards the rail yard, which of course had been the court of King Zoot. There was no sign of him there though; nothing save the rubble of the various refugees who had sheltered there recently. A hundred other places that might be of importance to the Chosen floated through Bray's mind then; the school where Martin had revealed his new look for the first time, when a good half of the adults had still been alive; the house where they had grown up together; the first headquarters of the Locos, when Bray had still been trying to be one of them. Most of those places no longer existed though; they had burnt down back in the early years, when the chaos had been at its height. So where else was there? Racha didn't wait for him to think - he ran on anyway. Past old shops, old offices, old warehouses. Past churches, temples and mosques. Past any number of buildings that might have held the Guardian, but showed no sign of it. Ebony was thinking too, but all that she could suggest were the places that seemed too far away; the house of the favourite aunt that Martin had so loved to visit; Trudy's house on the hillside; the skating rink where they had all liked to spend their weekends. If the Guardian had been running through the streets with a baby, it seemed likely that he wouldn't go too far. So where was he?

It was one of the Chosen who put them on the right track in the end; a drifting blue shadow spotted by Pride when the others were too focused on other things to notice. He grabbed the unfortunate acolyte, who turned out to be a girl of about twelve, and dragged her up to the others, now slowed to a jog just ahead of him. Racha's eyes spat sparks that did not speak of sanity, and this time Bray did intervene. He caught Racha by the arm, dragging him back, and was treated to a flash from those bright black eyes that was nothing like as friendly as usual.

"I'm not going to kill her," growled the brigadier, bringing his fury under control almost immediately. "Dead girls can't answer my questions." He tugged free then, and caught the girl by the front of her robe. "Where is he?"

"He?" The girl looked panic-stricken, and clung to the one thing that she understood. "Zoot? He hasn't returned to us. Not yet."

"He's not likely to." Hearing his brother's name used, again, by these people made Bray almost angry enough to take over the bullying from Racha, but he bit his lip and hung back. Racha glanced at him briefly.

"You think your god will return to you?" he asked. She lowered her head, her expression losing its panic in the face of new calm.

"We will see Zoot. The Guardian says that it will be. It's in the teachings. After the greatest chaos, the madness of a city torn by war, Zoot will be resurrected in the midst of greater chaos still."

"Greater chaos? What's greater than greatest?" Lex shook his head, dismissing the question as soon as he had asked it. "These people are nuts. They always have been. Forget her."

"No." Racha held up a hand for silence, then looked into the girl's quiet grey eyes. "This war; the one that heralds the coming of the greater chaos; we're in the middle of it now?"

"The Guardian believes so. He's gone to welcome it. He's gone to welcome Zoot. We're all going to meet him." She smiled, almost blissfully; a happy, devoted believer, ready to face her own truth. Racha rolled his eyes and pushed her away.

"She's crazy. We won't get anything worthwhile out of her."

"Maybe." Pride crouched down beside the fallen girl, looking into her enraptured eyes. She was past fear now - threatening her would do no good. Her own words had healed her of the terror she had shown when first captured. He smiled at her, as openly as he could manage.

"Zoot is coming back," he said quietly. She frowned.

"You're no believer."

"I don't need to be, to know what's coming. All this chaos - it has to be leading to something, doesn't it. I can see it. The Guardian has gone to welcome Zoot - but wouldn't you like to be there too?"

"To be there when Zoot arrives?" Her face flushed suddenly, and her eyes widened. "Would that be possible? I've not been a follower for long."

"Zoot would welcome you whoever you are, if he's truly your god. Wouldn't he?" Pride looked up at the others, and nodded towards Bray. "That's Zoot's brother. You recognise him don't you?"

"Yes. I think so." The girl frowned, then her expression cleared. "You mean you're going to welcome Zoot as well? This was all a test of my faith?"

"Yeah." Lex could see the shadows forming in Bray's eyes, and intervened before the other boy could say something they might have cause to regret. "And you passed with flying colours, right Bray?" There was no answer, and Pride smiled as gently as ever before.

"The brother of Zoot is a recent convert. You'll have heard of his stand against the Chosen, no doubt? Well now he's going to meet with his brother, and his emotions have got the better of him." Above the gentle smile, Pride's eyes glared furiously at Bray, who shifted restlessly, then forced a smile of his own.

"Yeah." His words as they came were like knife thrusts in his chest, but he forced himself to say them. "We're going to meet with Zoot, but we're lost. Perhaps we're not pure enough. If you could only point us in the right direction, you'll be doing a great service for Zoot."

"You'll be helping to deliver this group of sinners to him, for cleansing," suggesting Lex, wondering if perhaps that wasn't going a little too far. The girl seemed to be lapping it up though. She scrambled to her feet.

"It's this way," she announced, her enthusiasm practically overflowing. "The Guardian was going to the place where Zoot was first brought into the world; there to ignite the fires that will bring a chaos worthy of heralding Zoot's return." Her eyes were as wide and as bright as it was possible for them to be, her breathing in deep, staccato bursts. Religious mania, thought Pride, with a trace of disgust. Still, it had played its part for all of them. He straightened up.

"Where was Zoot born?" Racha turned to Bray, his own eyes so bright that they made those of the girl seem dull in comparison. Bray's head turned automatically to look over to the west. To the remains of the little hospital where he remembered being taken by his father to first welcome his young brother to the world. His family had moved house not long after, and he had never been back to that little building again. It had been abandoned, he seemed to remember hearing, in favour of a new maternity unit closer to the centre of the town. He pointed. Racha took off at a run.

"Say thanks why don't you." Lex went after him rather more slowly, the others alongside. Only Pride thought to look back at the girl, but she wasn't interested in him. He left her, and after a slow, hesitant moment she came after them, running at their heels like an unwanted younger sister tagging along.

The streets were empty now. Once or twice Lex thought that he heard somebody; saw something, lurking in out of the way places. Nobody seemed inclined to bother them though, and Ebony's ready gun soon drooped. Even she was willing to accept that there were no more immediate threats to their safety. Racha and Bray seemed oblivious even to the possible threats, running on with an increasing lead on the others. Bray was looking about more as he ran now, but not to scan for the occasional figures hiding in shadows. He was seeing things that triggered memories; the shop where they had stopped to choose his mother some flowers, before going to visit her and Martin in the hospital. The café where his father had taken him after the visit, to buy him a milkshake and ask what he thought of the new baby. Old memories, long forgotten, stirred to sudden wakefulness with a frown. It was not long before he saw the hospital as well; a clearly long abandoned building, several of the windows boarded up many years before. It had an air of dereliction about it that went far beyond the disused, vandalised buildings of the post-Virus days. Racha had come to a halt.

"He'll see us if he's near a window," he commented, his voice low and deep. Lex slowed to a halt beside him.

"Me and Pride will take the back," he offered, but nobody acknowledged the suggestion. "Maybe we can take him by surprise?"

"I just want him dead. Surprise or no." Apparently throwing aside his moment of concern at being spotted, Racha was beginning to advance again. Lex nodded to Pride, and together they headed off to look for a back entrance. Only Ebony seemed to notice them go.

"We have to be careful," she said, not entirely sure that she would be heard. "Don't forget he's got a baby with him."

"I don't care about some--" Racha broke off, his air of detachment breaking at last. "Oh. Bray's baby." He frowned then, looking back at the other boy. "It is your baby, isn't it?"

"For what it's worth." It felt increasingly like Sasha's, but he knew that that was only his irritation speaking. His jealousy. Besides - his, Sasha's or the Lord General Silver's, it was a baby and it had to be protected. Racha nodded.

"Where did the others go?"

"Round the back. To see if they can creep up on him." Ebony shouldered her rifle. "You want to blast in there with our guns blazing, or see about something a bit more subtle?"

"Don't want to shoot the baby." Racha looked somewhat unfocused. "It's a little Bray. Besides, there's no game in that. No challenge. No fun." He smiled suddenly, and for a moment was just as he had been before the Guardian had sprung up to interfere in his great game. "We should walk in openly. See what's going on. Let him see us. It doesn't matter."

"It might." Ebony stepped back to look up at the building. "How did he know this was where Zoot was born?"

"Maybe he found some records. Maybe he met somebody who knew? We're not the only ones who knew Zoot in the old days." Bray also looked up at the building, trying to remember which floor his mother and brother had been on. Not that it mattered - that much at least the Guardian couldn't have known. Racha shrugged.

"It's all irrelevant," he said firmly. He didn't care about speculation; he only cared about getting this done. Squaring his shoulders, a pistol now in each hand, he headed towards the once grand doors and stepped through their broken glass. Bray and Ebony followed on after him. He was right - the details didn't matter. Such things were just distractions, keeping them from their objective. Who cared how the Guardian had known where to come? What mattered was what exactly he thought was going to happen here.

They didn't have far to look. The Guardian was crouched in the lobby, bent over a large black box, and fiddling with something inside it. He glanced up at the approach of the three new arrivals, and turned to pick up some other object; one that squirmed and wriggled, and made peculiar noises. Tiny noises. Bray started forward with a strangled sound that came from the back of his throat.

"Stay where you are." The authority in the Guardian's voice made his disciples ready to do anything for him, but it had no effect on Bray. The fact that his enemy, rising to his feet with a grandiose flourish, held his son in his arms, though, made him ready to obey his every word. He froze. The Guardian smiled.

"I can't pretend that I expected you to come, but I'm rather glad that you did. It's fitting. You can be here when Zoot returns."

"Zoot isn't coming." Bray could see something behind the Guardian; the shapes, moving slowly and silently, of Lex and Pride. Inwardly he thanked the heavens that the pair had come along on this venture; few could move so well in such circumstances as could they. Keeping low, they glided across the age-dulled lobby floor, and slid into the cover of the reception desk. The Guardian laughed, and for a second the sound startled Bray - then he dragged his mind away from thoughts of Lex and Pride, and focused once again upon the Guardian. Beside him Racha was beginning to breathe heavily, barely concealing his desire to do something violent. The Guardian hardly seemed to notice him.

"Oh but Zoot is coming, Bray," he argued." It's written."

"By you."

"Yes. But written nonetheless. Zoot was born of chaos. He lived by chaos, he thrived on chaos. He'll return in chaos."

"Call that fight back at the hotel chaos?" Ebony shook her head. "I know Zoot's kind of chaos. I helped him to make it. And that isn't it."

"Fight back at the hotel?" The Guardian didn't seem to know what she meant. "I wouldn't rely on those people out there to make the kind of chaos I need. I'm talking of fire, panic, disaster, death. Zoot will come to us, or we will all go to Zoot." He gestured at the black box. "You see?"

"It's a bomb." Bray sounded almost emotionless. "You're going to blow the building up?"

"The building?" The Guardian laughed derisively. "What good would that do? One building? There are bombs all over the city. I've planned this intensively, from my taking of Eden and my capture of you - which you might have escaped, but I seem to have engineered anyway - to my taking control of the city. A thousand disciples waiting out there, pure now in their belief, and ready to meet Zoot. And you, and your child, here as the honour guard. I only wish I could have had Zoot's child here as well, but we'll make do with what we have. When the signal is sent, every bomb in the city will explode, and it'll create the greatest chaos of all."

"Provided you survive long enough to send your signal." Racha was starting forward now, and although Bray called out to stop him, fearing for Eden, the Fury carried on. The Guardian frowned at him, looking him up and down as though seeing him for the first time.

"And you are?" he asked. Racha smiled unpleasantly.

"Brigadier Racha, second in command of Tribe Fury, and most loyal friend of the Lord General Silver." There were several people present who might have queried the 'most loyal friend', given the rebellion, but unsurprisingly nobody mentioned it. "And you're talking out of your backside, 'Guardian'. A thousand disciples? When they found out what you did to Silver, all your Fury converts backed out, and killed most of the others. You're lucky if you have half a dozen supporters right now. That doesn't sound like a great welcome for Zoot. You don't have control of the city. You don't even have control of this building."

"You're lying." The Guardian's face took on a rough red hue from his rage. He took a step forward, and held the baby out as though as a threat. Bray's breath caught in his throat, and such was his focus upon the wriggling bundle that he almost failed to notice Lex and Pride, slipping out of the cover of the reception desk. They had heard everything - they must have done. He wondered if there was anything that they could do to the bomb, but the Guardian still seemed to be too close to it. They were moving so slowly, so quietly, checking the wires, the other debris that was strewn across the floor. He couldn't see what half of it was - with luck, they could. Racha seemed to have noticed them too; either that or he was so intent upon his own purpose that he was blind to everything else. He was doing a fine job of distracting the Guardian though, and Bray was glad of it. His own instincts had been thrown into confusion by his son lying in his enemy's mocking arms. It left him powerless, and unable to attack as he had wished to.

"Lying?!" Racha took a step towards the Guardian again, moving slowly, his posture as swaggering and as powerful as it had ever been. Bray couldn't see his face properly from his current angle, but he knew exactly how it would look; the bright black eyes, aglow with all the force they had, and a smile at once warm and lethal. They made a true pair, Racha and the Guardian, both with their flowing blond hair and their powerful charisma. Their confidence, their smiles, their determination. Bray had hated both of them, but there was only one of them that he wanted dead right at this moment; dead or defeated. He never wanted to be forced to look upon the face of the Guardian again, and see his manic eyes, or hear his hateful preaching.

"Lying." The Guardian's eyes had become narrow slits. Bray risked another glance at Lex and Pride, who seemed to be struggling with some kind of equipment. He didn't know what it was. Something to do with the bomb, he imagined. The massive network of bombs, if the Guardian's claims were true. He almost shuddered at the thought, and glanced over at Ebony. She was holding her gun levelled at the Guardian, and he knew that she was looking for a shot. She wasn't that good, though. None of them were, save perhaps for Tribe Fury; and the gun was an automatic, too. If she fired now she might hit the Guardian - but she would almost certainly take Eden, Lex and Pride out with him. She didn't lower the gun though; didn't stop looking for her opening. Bray wanted to drag the gun away from her and throw it back out of the doors, but he didn't. He didn't even move.

"Get on the radio, if you have one left." Racha didn't bother to hide his derision. "Your 'empire' has fallen. What's left of your supporters may have the guts to go to the hotel and help with the fight there. Most of them have probably long fled, or just forsaken your cause and joined with the others of the city. It's not your city anymore. I doubt it's Tribe Fury's, either, thanks to you."

"Then they'll all die." The Guardian shrugged dismissively. "Zoot was going to bring eternal life to his supporters. His true believers. But if they have forsaken him, they will die with the rest of you in my great fire." He looked down at Eden, then laid the baby on top of the big black box that stood beside him. Ebony's fingers tensed on her gun, but still she didn't fire. Racha was in the way now, moving about with a cat-like tread, sensing the possibility of a fight.

"If you want to blow up the city, that's your own look out. I don't plan to die that way, at least any time soon." He smiled with an impressive measure of ice. "You're going to die, but you're going to die by my hand, not by some bomb you've rigged up for your own amusement. Now step away from your toys and give me my chance at revenge."

"You? Some posing ninny I've never met before?" The Guardian shook his head, and his long blond hair tossed itself like a mane. "I rather think it's Bray who wants to kill me, isn't it Bray? You want to crush the life out of me? Shoot me, strangle me? It's all the same, and none of it matters. Zoot will bring me back to life soon enough. But you're too much the good guy even to give yourself that little pleasure, aren't you."

"Get away from my son, and we'll see who's too much of a good guy." Bray had no idea if he would be capable of killing the Guardian; he didn't think he would get the chance anyway, since the other youth was definitely the larger, and the stronger. He had an idea that Lex and Pride could accomplish their goal, however, and perhaps disconnect the bomb network altogether, if he could only be sure of distracting the Guardian long enough. They were closer to him than ever now, half crawling, half crouching, but clearly confused. Neither was an electrician, or a technician. They needed Jack. The Guardian laughed.

"You? You think you can fight me, Bray?" He bent to look at the baby again, quiet now, and staring up at the ceiling as though enjoying the view of dirty skylights and cracked plaster decorations. One tiny fist waved in the air, and Bray watched it, transfixed. This was crazy. He needed to get that child away from here now. He took a step forward.

"I'll fight you," he offered, without believing his own chances of success. The Guardian just laughed, and without so much as a pause for breath, drew a short black revolver from within his robe. He levelled it at Bray.

"I have a better idea," he said cheerfully. Racha moved towards him. This was not going the way he had planned. He wanted to rip the Guardian to pieces with his bare hands, not watch him make an escape with the aid of a gun. His intended target was backing away though, apparently happy to leave the baby behind, and it was Ebony who realised what he was intending. He wasn't trying to escape at all.

"The bomb!" The realisation made her eyes widen. "He's going to detonate it!"

"What?" Bray glanced over to the swathes of equipment that had been abandoned all over the place; the work of long days, clearly, for some technician at least as skilled as Jack. He had no idea how it might be operated, but the Guardian clearly did, and he was heading for some part of it. He turned slightly as he did so, the better to see what he was doing, and for the first time he spotted Lex and Pride. His face turned white with fury.

"What are you doing?!" He turned to them fully then, and Racha took advantage of the movement of the gun to swing up his own. He trusted his own aim, even if Ebony didn't trust hers. For Bray though, there could be no certainty with automatic gun fire when his son was so close by. He threw himself at Racha, knocking the gun aside so that it fired harmlessly into the reception desk. The Guardian swung to face them, firing once at the pair as they struggled together, though coming closer to hitting Ebony. He turned back then, raising the gun once again to point at Lex and Pride. Lex had stared death in the face many times since the collapse of the old world, but this time he felt little of the hope that had come to him in those other times. He couldn't think of anything to avoid the inevitable bullet.

"Guardian!" Bursting into the room in a great panic and fluster, the young girl Pride had captured and interrogated skidded to a halt on the grimy tiled floor. "Guardian!"

"What?" He turned about, reacting instinctively though not without suspicion. The sound of her voice carried the rapture of one of his true believers, and a part of him welcomed the chance of an ally, but he was angry at the appearance of anybody just at this moment. The girl was still running towards him though, past Ebony, who tried to stop her, past Bray, sprawled now on the ground where Racha had thrown him.

"Guardian, am I too late? Is Zoot back?" Her eyes were everywhere, looking at everything, seeing nothing, focused entirely upon her spiritual leader. "Guardian?"

"Shut up and get away from me." He was trying to turn back to Lex and Pride, but they had both skidded back out the line of fire, and he was left with nothing but an expanse of floor. He swore, and turned back to the girl in a rage. "See what you did? Enemies of Zoot, escaped because of you!"

"But Guardian." She fell to her knees at his feet. "I came for Zoot. To help Zoot. The enemies of Zoot are nothing."

"Get away from me!" He kicked at her and she fell away, stumbling and crawling back in her confusion. Ebony took a moment to dash forward and grab her, though she surprised herself at the action. The Guardian fired off a shot in her general direction, but his aim was as bad the second time as the first. The bullet shattered what was left of the glass in the main door. Dragging the dead weight of the girl over to the wall, Ebony ducked down there, anxious to avoid the random bullets of a highly inexperienced gunman. She thought that she saw Pride and Lex moving in the corner of her eye, but when she turned to look at them, all that she could see was vague signalling. She had no idea what they were trying to tell her, though they were trying it frenetically enough.

"Your plans keep collapsing, don't they Guardian." Taking a few steps forward, completely unswayed by the gun in the Chosen leader's hand, Racha was grinning fiercely. "First you lose the city, now you lose your fine plans."

"I've lost nothing." The Guardian reached out, one hand caressing some other part of his sprawl of complicated equipment. "Zoot will still come, and with him his chaos."

"You'll explode in a ball of fire, you mean, and spend the rest of eternity looking like a fool." Racha's smile had grown into a lopsided sneer that showed an expanse of white teeth. Behind him Bray had struggled back to his feet, and was completely at a loss as to what to do now. Apparently Racha didn't care if the Guardian blew up the city; just as long as he was granted a second in which to see the other boy die, before his own life was snuffed out by the blast. Bray had other responsibilities though, even if Racha didn't.

"You're all crazy," he said now, heading towards the pair. His feet slipped on debris; bits of the bomb lash-up he thought, although he wasn't sure. "You talk like blowing up the city is a good thing."

"Maybe it is." Racha threw him a sidelong glance, his old, warm smile showing itself for just an instant, in honour of his favourite Mall Rat. "Hell of a send off for Silver. If he can't have this city, maybe nobody should."

"What?" Bray couldn't believe that even a Fury would think of something so insane, but Racha was looking away again now, his once warm eyes restored to the chilliness with which he regarded their proud enemy.

"Don't you agree, Bray?" was all that he would say on the issue. There was a smile in his voice, but it didn't show in his face. The Guardian stepped towards him, and planted the muzzle of his revolver squarely against Racha's forehead.

"It seems perhaps we're not so different," he suggested. "You honour your leader, I honour mine." His eyes flickered for the barest second towards Bray. "And we both hate that nauseating fool." Racha merely smiled, and the Guardian turned the gun to point at Bray.

"But Guardian!" Like an instrument of heaven the young girl intervened once again, dragging herself away from Ebony and running towards the little group. "Guardian no! He's one of us now, that's why I told him to come here."

"You what?" The gun wavered from its aim as though the Guardian was seriously considering shooting her instead, and that slight wobble was enough for Racha. He seized the strong, pale wrist, and twisted hard, sending the gun bouncing away across the floor. One hard, powerful fist, of which Bray could testify to the force, knocked the flamboyant, would-be leader of men to his knees. To Racha that seemed a nicely ironic position for someone who claimed to be religious. He smiled harshly.

"Get your son out of here." The words were clearly meant for Bray, though the eyes were still for the Guardian alone. Bray didn't move. "Damn it, do as I say!"

"Yeah." It was the only word that managed to tumble out of his mouth, and faintly transfixed by the sight of the humbled Guardian, Bray went over to pick up the baby. It was the first time he had held his son, and the wonder of the moment came to him even in the peculiar circumstances of the meeting. It was with an effort that he tore his eyes away and looked back to Racha.

"Go." His back as stiff as the soldier he had always trained to be, Racha strode over to the big black box and ripped a wire from it. "I think Lex and Pride destroyed the radio connection to the other bombs. I'm no specialist, but that's what the equipment they were fiddling with looked like to me." He glanced over to where Ebony was struggling with the young girl, who was clearly distraught by recent events. He didn't understand why Ebony was bothering, but it was immaterial anyway, to him. "Just leave. Whatever argument you have with him, it's mine now. He's mine. You know I can handle him better than you ever could."

"Yeah." It seemed to be the only thing he could say. He glanced back at his baby, then shot one last look at the Guardian. He was climbing back to his feet, but he still looked bested somehow. There was a cruel smile on his face, and his eyes lingered on the black box, and for a tiny, tiny second, Bray thought that he saw a gleam in those eyes that spoke out against the craven body language. His eyes snapped back to Racha.

"The bomb!" he shouted, running forward again, staring down at the black box in shock. "It was booby-trapped!"

"It was what?" Racha stared down at the box, and saw a flash of something inside it. A counter, ticking down to zero? A rough electrical lash-up sparking into life? It didn't matter. Pure instinct told him that Bray was right. His eyes hardened.

"Get out," he spat, his voice coloured by a tone more harsh than any he had ever used to Bray before.

"But the bomb! You have to come too!"

"I'll come. When I've dealt with him." Ignoring the cruel smile on the face of the Guardian, Racha took a step towards him. "I was right, wasn't I 'Guardian'. The other bombs won't go off when this one does?"

"Who knows." The Guardian no longer looked entirely sane - if, for that matter, he ever had done. "Who cares? Zoot will come. He will come."

"No he won't." Racha downed him again, with a punch as devastating as the first. "You were wrong, Guardian. We're nothing alike. The only thing we share is that both of our leaders are dead, and neither of them is ever coming back." He glanced back at Bray. "Still here?"

"The bomb, Racha."

"To hell with the bomb. I'll leave when I've done what I set out to do." Racha polished his knuckles on his jacket, then dragged the Guardian up a short way and punched him again. "Get that damn baby out of here!"

"Yes. Of course." He had almost forgotten the child, and he began to back away immediately, clumsily, over the uneven flooring. "Racha?"

"Yeah, I know. Thanks."

"I was going to say... good luck. And whatever you're planning to do, don't take too long."

"Sure." He looked up from his collapsing victim long enough to flash Bray his old, warm smile one final time. "Now get out. Or I'll bloody shoot you."

"I'm gone." He turned around then, running uncertainly to the door, and pausing only briefly to look back. He couldn't see much though, for Pride and Lex and Ebony were there, and they were pulling him away from the building. He tried to turn back; tried to see through the broken door. He couldn't see anything. Couldn't see Racha as he let go of the Guardian and stepped back, goading the other youth into standing, and fighting for real. Couldn't see either of them, converging upon each other in a bright-eyed, blond-haired tangle, unconscious of the dangers of the bomb. He let the others drag him away, oblivious to the young girl sheltering, terrified, nearby. Oblivious to the oddly covetous look Pride was giving Eden. Oblivious to Lex and Ebony's hurrying, guiding arms about his shoulders. He did see the baby though, and he let his eyes gaze upon it even in the midst of the hurrying and the hassling, and the stumbling over tumbled trash and debris. He looked into his son's eyes, and saw everything that he had been fighting for since the day he had been forced to leave Amber up in the hills. And he smiled, adrift in wonder. He was still smiling, still lost in the moment, when behind him the hospital blew itself to smithereens.

They never found out what happened to the Chosen. Perhaps they were all dead; killed by Tribe Fury, or by the people of the city. Lex didn't much care either way, although he was hoping that somewhere out there the Badlanders still lived; that one day there would be a chance to avenge himself on that score at least. Tribe Fury themselves had cleared out. They had been left with no leader, for Archer couldn't count on the support of anybody beyond Racha's little breakaway group, and the colour-coded colonels all seemed to be dead. The soldiers had gone, anyway; perhaps to lick their wounds, perhaps to regroup. They might one day return, and the Mall Rats knew that all too well; but again Lex didn't much care. They had gone for now, and that was the main thing.

And what chaos was left in their wake. When the fighting had at last died down, the city's inhabitants; the ones who hadn't been a part of the fighting; had crept from their hiding places. The young ones, the weak ones, the sick ones, or just the ones who hadn't wanted to fight. They had joined up with their fellow city-dwellers, and begun the long job of shoring up the damaged buildings, repairing roofs where they could, and clearing out the dead bodies as they had once cleared out the bodies of their elders, in the days following the Virus. It was an uneasy truce though, and as he walked amongst the labour gangs, acting in his favoured capacity as peacekeeper, Lex saw that - but again he didn't much care. The peace that had existed under the rule of the Mall Rats, and under Ebony's brief tenure as queen of the city, had been torn apart. It might return; but first would come another time of unrest, street-fighting and chaos. It was unavoidable. It seemed to be the way that the city worked. But again Lex didn't care. That was the environment in which he thrived; and besides, he had other things to think about. New concerns.

Tai-San had been acting erratically for some time now; he had noticed it, although he knew that she didn't think he had. Her senses were off. She had worried over the Guardian, when once she would have been fatalistic about his fate. She had been tired at odd moments. She knew why it was, he was sure - and so did he. Even warriors could be sensitive sometimes; even the great Lex could see what was in her eyes. It made him happy. Soon enough, he knew, his tribe would be a little bigger, and he would know at last what he had missed when Zandra had died. It was a secret for now; Tai-San clearly didn't want to tell anybody, and he was man enough to let her have that. Things would reveal themselves eventually, after all. All secrets do, in time.

And so came the new age of the city; the age of confusion returned, and chaos once again in the streets. The Locos, as ever reborn from the ashes, and other tribes splitting and merging to face the new dangers with greater strength. It hardly seemed a great victory; to have fought against death and won only danger; but at least it was a danger that they knew. There would at least be no more massacres, no more tanks, no cruelty beyond the harsh law of the streets; the law of the urban jungle. The unrest outside reflected itself upon the Mall Rats though, and translated itself into confusions and unrest inside. They were together again, for the first time in a long while. With Ryan and Salene returned, the Mall was a more cheerful place than before. There was always the promise that Patsy might return, once she had found out if her brother truly was alive - but all was not as it had been. All was not as it once was. Dal was gone, and would never be returning, and the sadness of that came upon all of them, from time to time. He wasn't there to act as doctor, for those amongst them injured in the fighting. He wasn't there to come running down the stairs, with his ever-cheerful smile. And other things were different too.

Sasha seemed set to stay. Nobody quite knew what was going on between him and Amber, or between Amber and Bray - or, for that matter, between Bray and Ebony, or Trudy. Bray spent more time with Trudy now, watching Brady play, and waiting for the day when Eden could play with her. There was a strange atmosphere between him and Amber though, and he had gone back to his old ways, of disappearing out into the maddened streets to look for food, and leaving Trudy and Amber both fretting over his safety. Ebony went out as well from time to time, usually alone, flirting with the idea of returning to the Locos, although they were hardly the gang they had once been. Something kept her at the Mall though; the same thing, perhaps, that kept Pride there, even though he had always said that he would leave when the fighting was over. He still spoke of leaving, but he never seemed to get around to it. He helped to repair the Mall, he played his flute with Sasha in the evenings, he taught Chloe what he knew of medicines, for she had set her heart upon following in Dal's footsteps. She had seen enough fighting to last her a lifetime. But still he talked of leaving, and when he did there was a certain gleam in Sasha's eyes too; and, perhaps, in Amber's. She had loved the outdoors life as well. Yet none of them seemed ready to make their move. They were bound together in any number of intricate ways. Life was complex for all of them, for everything, it seemed, had changed; everything and nothing; everything and everything else. That was the pattern of life in the city.

Of Racha they found no sign, just as they found no sign of the Guardian. Bray gave a simple service for his captor, tormentor and friend at the water's edge, where he had once sent Martin out to sea on a burning boat; but he liked to think that the crazy soldier had escaped from the building before it blew up. It was just a fleeting fancy, but a part of him had grown fond of the blond boy, with his warm black eyes and his insane dreams of eternal fighting. Perhaps he lived still; perhaps he had died. It didn't matter, for either way his days were over. The city had moved on. The terror had changed its face, its name, its nature, and turned to new threats and ferocities. Such was the way of things, and always would be. Such was life - and death - and would be so, until the world grew old again.

THE END