“Not so many as there were before,” Girard said, satisfaction in his voice. “We did a lot of damage, even before the magic.”
Hallie tried to answer, but her vision was wavering at the edges. Her strength was failing, and she could feel thezauberlikewise weakening. “We don’t have long,” she told Girard.
“Understood.”
They’d reached the door now and Hallie realised that she could see the edge of the swarm. Several paces away from the outer wall of the building the creatures ended and bare earth began. The sight gave her a tiny spark of hope and lift of energy. There were still hundreds of the creatures, but there was an end to them.
Sudden heat rose beside her and she spared a moment of attention to look at what Girard was doing. He seemed to have managed to add a length of pipe onto the fuel container, and set fire to the end of it so that long, brilliant flames shot out from the pipe.
“Stay behind me, please,” Girard said.
She didn’t try to answer, just held her ground, keeping the barrier in place as best she could while Girard stepped in front of her, spraying the deadly flame in front of him in smooth, easy arcs.
The remaining creatures burned with ear-splitting shrieks, agony and fury all rolled together. The ones out of reach of the flames didn’t turn away, didn’t try to save themselves, instead they rushed on, into the flames, into the path of the weapon Girard had made.
Hallie sank to her knees, vision failing, the magic all but gone, thezauberthe softest of presences in her mind as it, too, ran outof energy. As she slumped to the filthy floor, amid the remains of mouldy food and dead creatures, she heard the roar of the flames die, replaced by the steady flat crack of Girard’s gun. She tried to move. She had a gun, too. She should be helping him. But she couldn’t move, darkness swallowing her.
Chapter eight
Thefirstthingshewas aware of was feeling utterly, absolutely safe. Then she became aware of a steady drumbeat nearby. A solid, reliable sound. Her nose and her fingers were cold, but the rest of her was warm enough. Despite the knowledge that she was safe, she wasn’t all that comfortable. Her head was resting on something too hard to be a decent pillow. And there was a weight over her upper arm and shoulder, restricting her movement.
With a small, inarticulate sound of protest, she lifted her head and pulled away from whatever was holding her.
In the dim light of what she thought might be morning, she realised she had been lying next to Girard, both of them on the hard wooden floor of the radio room. There was a sheet of tarpaulin under them, and what she thought was Girard’s coat over them. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it also wasn’t the worst place she’d tried to sleep in, either.
As she sat up she realised that the steady drumbeat she had heard was Girard’s heartbeat. She’d been resting her head on his shoulder. She was tempted to curl back down again, back to where she’d felt safe, but before she could give in to the impulse, he stirred. There were shadows under his eyes and he had smudges of soot on his face. But his gaze was clear when he looked up at her. Warmth rose in her face. She’d been lying next to him all night, even if she hadn’t been aware of it at the time.
“Are you alright?” he asked her, nothing but concern on his face.
“I think so. Tired. Saints, I’m so tired,” Hallie said, realising how true that was when she tried to get up and her legs wouldn’t work.
“You pulled a lot of magic,” Girard said, sitting up in turn. “Here.” He got up and set a chair for her, next to the table where they’d laid out the weapons the night before. At least, Hallie assumed it had been the night before. “I believe that using magic takes a lot of energy, so you’ll probably feel like you’ve been hit by a train.” He turned back and offered her his hands. She leant into his quiet strength as she got herself up off the floor, letting her hands stay in his for a moment longer than necessary, reluctant to let go of his warmth.
“That’s a fair description,” Hallie agreed, managing to get herself across to the chair, and convinced she wouldn’t be able to go further than that. Now she was sitting, and further away from the floor, she took a look around, noticing that although there were some blood stains on the floor, there was no sign of any creatures in the radio room. “Did you clean up?” she asked, surprised and touched.
“Just this space,” he said, and grimaced. “We both needed some rest and I didn’t want to wake up to one of those things staring at me like I was its next meal.”
“They were quite hungry looking,” Hallie said, then had to laugh as her own stomach rumbled. “Apparently not the only ones.”
“I’ve got supplies with me,” Girard said. He got his pack down from the high shelf and rummaged through it, handing Hallie what looked like a protein bar. “Start with that, and I’ll get a better meal ready.”
“Thank you,” she said. He was looking after her, she realised, and it made her want to smile even as she was cross with herself for how useless she felt.
She hadn’t realised she’d eaten the protein bar until a bowl was put in front of her, steam rising along with the tantalising scent of some kind of soup. Girard handed her a spoon and took a seat across from her with a bowl of his own.
“This is really good,” she said, after she’d inhaled half the bowl.
“I wish I could take credit, but it’s just basic rations. It is good, but it gets tiring after a few days,” Girard said, humour revealing faint creases at the corners of his eyes.
“Are the creatures all gone?” Hallie asked, finishing the last of her soup and wondering if there was any more. She could feel some energy creeping back into her body, but it was slow, sluggish. Like the rest of her.
“Gone or dead,” Girard answered. “I took a quick look around when it started to get light out. The warrimel had chewed through the gate rope. I managed to get it more or less shut again. There’s nothing else alive inside the walls but us.”
Hallie shivered at the thought. She was glad she wasn’t about to be eaten by one of the creatures - the warrimel - but being surrounded by corpses was only marginally better. “I’m not going to be much use for a while,” she said, and looked around the room. She wasn’t used to being looked after, and they were here to work. There had to be something useful she could do.When they’d first got here, the day before, the tables had been covered with papers. “Perhaps I can look through the records to see if there are any clues to what happened and where the people went?”
“Good idea,” Girard said. He got up and lifted the papers and books down, putting them on the table next to Hallie. “I want to take a proper look at the radio, but I’ll get you some more soup first.”
“If we don’t check in soon, will the director send more people?” Hallie asked. She thought that was what the director had said before they left Daydawn, but there was also the storm to think about and whether the helicopter would be able to get to them. Even assuming it could, she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. On the one hand, she’d have welcomed more people the night before, to help fight back the swarm. On the other hand, she was used to working alone, to relying on her own resources. She was getting used to working with Girard, and welcomed his company, but wasn’t sure how she’d fit in with a larger team.
