Free Sunspire (The Reach, Book 4) by Mark R. Healy Page A

here,” he growled, and then they were running once again.
     

 
    12
    They continued blindly onward as the smoke thickened, not really knowing where it was they were headed, only wishing to put more distance between themselves and the war zone from which they’d narrowly escaped.  Further on they found yet more refugees, commoners who were lost and trying to find a way to exit the Reach, and the number in their group swelled.  Caught up in the tide of the desperate and forgotten masses of the Reach, Talia’s notion that she had become one with them only intensified; no longer in control of her own destiny, she was now simply being swept along with the current, bound to wash up wherever it might take her.
    They descended a stairwell, then another, and Talia lost all sense of direction.  She did not even know which level they had reached.  Duran, at least, seemed to have some idea about what he was doing.  He remained at the head of the pack, leading them forward through the twists and turns of Gaslight, and if he harboured any doubts about where he was going, he kept them to himself.  At each juncture he would bring them to a halt, allowing time to check what lay beyond, effectively minimising the chance of another ambush.
    They encountered several bands of armed men roaming the corridors, but these moved on at the sight of the assault rifles in the possession of Zoe and Silvestri.
    Some time later they began to trudge through a dark and narrow tunnel, and Talia saw bright lights at the far end.  Weary and sore all over, she started at the sudden sound of Duran’s voice in the close confines.
    “We’re here,” he said.  “This is Level Ninety-Six.  Eastern end.”
    “You’re sure about that?” Silvestri said.
    “Yeah.  Been here plenty of times before.  If our friend in Lux was telling the truth, this is where we’ll find help.”
    They continued along the tunnel, and Talia prepared herself for the worst.  After all, not much had gone right for them of late.  She, Roman and the others had seemingly reeled from one disaster to the next, so it would come to her as no surprise should they alight from this tunnel to find nothing at all, or worse yet, a trap.
    She heard voices out there, and a strange creaking noise.  A grunt, then laughter.
    “Stay on your toes,” Silvestri cautioned quietly.
    Zoe moved to take point, her assault rifle at the ready.  The refugees clustered in behind them again, exchanging anxious whispers.  Talia drew Roman close and produced her .22, although she wasn’t sure if it was going to be of any use.
    Zoe stopped suddenly and held up her hand, indicating that the others should do the same.  A moment later, a woman’s voice reverberated through a speaker in the tunnel.
    “ If you’re seeking a fight, turn around.  You’ll only find death this way.”
    “And if we’re not?” Zoe called.
    “Then you may come forward.  Don’t be afraid.”
    Zoe glanced back at Duran and Silvestri, a quizzical expression on her face.  Duran shrugged.
    “Who are you?” Silvestri called out.
    “Come and see for yourself.”
    The three of them exchanged another glance, and then Zoe seemed to reach a decision.  She started forward and moved confidently toward the end of the tunnel, then stepped out into the light.
    Duran followed, and then Talia and the others fell in behind.
    As Talia stepped out of the tunnel she found the source of the illumination – a series of light towers, such as those used in construction, had been arranged before the elevators, generators humming at their bases.  A cluster of people were milling around the space, assembling great lengths of rope as well as pulley systems, and not far away a pot was boiling above a fire.
    Talia could smell something cooking through the stink of smoke that permeated Gaslight, and she was suddenly reminded of how hungry she was.
    “You won’t need those,” a woman in a khaki shirt said from nearby, pointing at their