Dog Tracking

Rain shook his head.  “Lookout’s looking, but I don’t think this is her specialty.”

“She’s busy with the doctors now,” I said, quiet.  “I was hoping we’d have more to go on.”

“We have enough,” Rachel said.  “They got enough blood on them that my dogs can follow.”

“Good,” I said.

***

I heard Rachel whistle.  The dogs peeled off once again, away from the road, away from everything, so they ran through places where tent cities had stood and where trees had been cleared but only skeletons of buildings stood.  A wilderness of the interrupted urban.

She was saying something.

“-ent North.”

“They headed North?” I asked.

***

We fell into formation as we stepped across and through the portal, some of us limping or giving evidence to injuries minor and moderate.  I chose to float rather than limp.  Sveta slipped through, found a rack of books, and clung to it, hiding on the far side and peering over at us as we made our way into the platform, earth-N side.  The dogs sniffed and snorted at the ground.

“They were here.  And there’s blood,” Rachel said.

Rain twisted around.  “The dogs told you-”

“On the ground,” she said, pointing.

“Ah.  Fuck.”

Fuck indeed, I thought.  Rain.  There was no good place to stow Rain.  No place that an assassin like Operator Red wouldn’t be able to find him or kill him.

***

Sveta took the long way around, going up onto the top of the station, then circling around through the shadows of the encampment on the far right, while we traced a route along the left.  Swansong was struggling with her footing, so I floated down, giving her support.

The hound huffed, almost barking, until Rachel shushed it.  I saw its tail wag.

“Found it?” Foil asked.

“Yeah.”

Byron said, “We’re moving forward on foot.  Are they in a car, is there any clue?”

“If they’re hitching a ride, then they have the windows open. And I don’t see fresh tire marks.”

Rachel indicated the half-frozen mud.

***

Other buildings were in view now.  They were closer to the manors and towers that Ashley had declared so essential than the rush-built homes closer to the station.

“We’re getting closer,” Rachel said.  “Go slow.  Something’s off with the road.”

“Off how?” Capricorn asked.

Rachel didn’t reply, only pointing.

In the mud of the road, a hole had been left, angled.  As if someone had done a really shitty job of planting a flag, pulled it out, and carried it off.

She pointed at another.

“Slower,” she said.  Her wolf’s ears twitched, and as it turned to look, Rachel and Foil did.  I was next, and others followed my cue.

Only darkness, off to our left.  If there was anyone out there, they were well hidden.

Chastity backed up, stepping onto the slope nearer the ditch.

“Don’t,” Rachel said, when she saw.  “Move carefully.”

“Traps?” Foil asked.

“It’s something,” Rachel said.  Her hand went out, indicating the direction that the enemy group was, as they moved through the darkness.  Her other hand rested on her half-grown wolf’s head.  “It’s not going to be a good something.”

The glow was visible through the glare, almost mistakable for a phantom image from looking at other lights.  It hit the road, streaking across it before going from red hot to a red-black, then black.

Glass.

“Etna,” I said.  I took to the air.  “Bluestocking’s group, she’s-”

The molten glass globs sailed our way, and this time there was no mistaking the volley for a trick of the eyes.  I flew forward to intercept, but they were spread out enough I could only block one.  Swansong and Damsel used their powers to try to blast shots out of the air.  Damsel succeeded.  Swansong missed.