The Inexplicables (The Clockwork Century 4)

“I opened the bay door to see what we’d picked up, and there it was. There he was,” he said, a marvel in his words. “There he was, hanging there like a kid from a tree house. I swear to God, there he was. ”

It took the Naamah Darling less than half an hour to find the lot of them, and a fraction of that time to return everyone to Fort Decatur, just for now. The captain wanted to visit Mercy Lynch to see about the big, hard gash in the back of his head. Houjin could scarcely contain himself for worry, and he couldn’t be stopped from recounting the fight to everyone who’d sit still long enough to listen, so he came, too.

And Rector … well, Rector’d had enough excitement for one day.

He went back to his room, because it was his room, and he could sleep there if he wanted to.

Twenty-four

The trip to the northern quadrant of the walled city was getting easier for Rector by virtue of familiarity; but the next morning it still took nearly an hour for him and Houjin to reach the gas-filled, fog-obscured blocks near Millionaire’s Row on Capitol Hill.

They skulked and tiptoed, dodging the loudest of fallen branches, bricks, and roofing tiles and listening constantly for the telltale muffled groans that said rotters were approaching.

Rector also kept one eye on the wall, up to his left. He remembered all too well the second creature—the inexplicable, or sasquatch, or yeti, or whatever anybody wanted to call her—and he didn’t wish to see her again.

Soon they reached the edge of the old city park, where the landscaping was no more welcoming than last time. But in the span of a day, much had happened. The giant rolling machine was parked at the tower’s base and whatever crates it’d unloaded had been carried upstairs or left stacked on the curving sidewalks and sloping grade upon which the old water reservoir perched. The boys saw stacks of folded canvas, barrels of pitch, boxes marked DANGER, and boxes stamped THIS END UP. They saw sealed water jugs and boxes of ammunition, and two tanks big enough that both boys could’ve sat inside one of them together. Stenciled on the side was the word DIESEL.

“What’s a diesel?” Rector whispered.

Houjin whispered back, “Fuel. It’s for that machine over there. And other things, too, maybe. ” Behind his mask, his eyes lit up, then smoldered down to the cunning look that said he had an idea. “And it burns as easy as kerosene…”

Up at the top of the tower, just beneath the conical roof, the windows were covered with black iron cages. Behind them, a warm yellow glow burned in a swelling, shrinking pulse that promised nothing good to come. Down below, the boys could hear the hum of machinery and the faint whistle of windblown Blight gas curling through the neighborhood.

Houjin jabbed Rector with his elbow. “Do you think anyone’s home?”

“How should I know?”

“Didn’t say you ought to. I was just checking your opinion, that’s all. ”

“Oh. ” Well, then. That was better. Rector made a show of thinking about it, harder than he needed to. “I don’t hear anybody. Do you?”

“No. ”

“Me neither. There’s two ways up and down that thing. Should we split up?”

“No!” Houjin said abruptly. “Why double our odds of getting caught? We pick one side, and go up together. If we pick wrong, you know the story—you’re here ’cause Otis’s men sent you inside, and I hate Yaozu because … because he poisoned my father, or whatever else you feel like saying on the fly. If we pick right, we sneak up without anybody bothering us. And we should hurry, before Caplan’s people return from the Station. ”

“Right, right. Good point. ” Rector shifted his position, and his knee popped. “You got your big sharp iron thing?”

“Yes. You got that ax?”

“Yeah. I like it better than the pick. ”

“Then let’s go do this. ”

And before Rector had a chance to change his mind, Houjin left their cover and made for the tower’s rear entrance.

The darkness there was unnervingly deep. The sun was still up, but shadowed, and nightfall would be on its way soon enough. The boys didn’t light their lanterns, but left them slung over their backs, affixed to the straps on the bags with all their supplies.

The back door looked as black as the entrance to a train tunnel. It was even curved in an intimidating arch, and was fixed with a gate—same as the one out front. But this gate had fallen away; one of its hinges had rusted through, and it leaned sharply toward the ground. Beyond it, there was nothing but midnight, and the faint suggestion that somewhere higher up, there might be a tiny bit of light to guide them.

Rector and Houjin swallowed hard as they stared into the inscrutable void.

Rector had never seen Houjin balk before, not like this. But it wouldn’t be good to chicken out even worse than a younger boy, so he steeled himself and straightened his shoulders. “I’m oldest, so I’ll go first. ”

Huey said, “Fine with me,” like he didn’t care, but he sounded relieved.

Steeling himself, teasing himself with the thought of sap waiting at the top, Rector led the way up the short hill and around the curved walkway.