Chapter 14 – The Flood Gate
The water treatment plant was secure, but the gate controlling the lower reservoir hadn't closed. If it stayed open, the lower district would flood, drowning any survivors hiding in basements and basements full of supplies.
The commander pointed at the gatehouse down the catwalk. "Squad 9, get that gate shut. Thirty seconds on the wheel, then get out."
The gatehouse was a small concrete room perched above a channel of black water. The wheel was rusted, half-submerged, and the access path was a narrow metal walkway.
We moved across it, the water hissing below.
Ilin stayed behind me, staff in hand, crystal dim.
Garrick went first, axe ready. Mara followed with her bent pipe wrench. Finn brought up the rear with his steel rod.
The first creatures were already there — three of the fast, low ones waiting on the walkway.
Finn swung his rod, catching the first in the jaw. Mara brought the pipe wrench down on the second's skull. Garrick's axe took the third.
I stepped over the bodies.
The gate wheel was seized with rust.
I grabbed it with both hands and pushed.
It didn't move.
I put my weight into it, muscles straining.
The wheel creaked, turned a quarter turn, and stuck again.
"Ilin," I said, "stay back."
"I'm okay," she said.
"I know," I said. "Stay back."
I pushed again.
The wheel turned another quarter turn.
Something splashed in the channel.
Two breachers climbed up onto the walkway, water dripping from their bodies.
Garrick met the first, axe biting into its arm. The creature backhanded him; Garrick hit the railing and went down.
Mara swung her pipe wrench at the second. The wrench bent more, and the breacher knocked her aside.
Finn swung his rod into the first breacher's ribs. The metal rang off its stone-like skin.
I left the wheel, ran at the second breacher, ducked its swing, and drove my blade into its side.
The blade went in, but the creature didn't drop.
It grabbed my shoulder — the same shoulder Ilin had healed four times.
Pain flared.
I drove my blade into its throat.
The breacher staggered, then fell into the water with a splash.
I turned to the first breacher. Garrick was back on his feet, axe in hand, blood soaking his bandage.
Mara was getting up, her lip split, her arm bleeding.
Finn was gripping his rod with both hands.
The first breacher charged Garrick.
Garrick swung, the axe bit, the creature hit him again.
I ran and jumped onto the breacher's back, driving my blade into the base of its skull.
It collapsed into the channel.
Garrick was breathing hard, holding his side.
"You okay?" I asked.
"I'm fine," he said, but his face was pale.
I looked for Ilin.
She was standing a few feet away, staff in hand, breathing hard.
"Ilin," I said.
"I'm okay," she said.
"You're not," I said.
"I can keep going," she said.
"No," I said. "You're done."
She looked like she wanted to argue, but she nodded.
"Stay behind me," I said.
"I'm not leaving you out here," she said.
"You are," I said. "You'll be more help alive than if you collapse out here."
She hesitated, then nodded and moved behind me.
I went back to the wheel.
The next threat wasn't a creature.
The water level was rising fast, the channel filling from the open gate.
If we didn't close it, the lower district would flood.
I grabbed the wheel again and pushed.
It turned a half turn.
My arms were shaking.
The wheel turned another quarter turn.
Something moved in the water below.
A crusher rose from the channel, water pouring off its back.
Garrick saw it and muttered, "Great."
Mara said, "We can't take that."
Finn said, "We have to."
The crusher climbed onto the walkway.
Garrick swung his axe. The blade chipped.
Mara swung her pipe wrench. It bent almost flat.
Finn swung his rod. It glanced off the creature's chest.
The crusher swung at me.
I dodged, rolled, and slashed at its leg. The blade cut, but not deep.
The crusher swung again.
I rolled the other way, came up, and drove my blade into its knee.
The crusher stumbled.
Ilin was out from behind me.
"Ilin, get back!" I shouted.
"I can stun it," she said.
"Ilin—"
She slammed the staff into the crusher's leg. The crystal flared bright white.
The crusher stopped, its leg buckling.
I ran and drove my blade into its throat.
The crusher dropped to its knees, then fell forward into the water with a heavy splash.
Ilin dropped to her knees.
"Ilin!" I shouted, running to her.
I reached her as she fell forward.
I caught her.
"You used healing," I said.
"Only a little," she said, her voice weak.
"You said you wouldn't," I said.
"I couldn't let it kill you," she said.
I lifted her and carried her back to the gatehouse, laying her on the floor.
"You're done," I said.
"I can keep going," she said.
"You can't," I said. "You're done."
She nodded, her eyes closing.
Garrick, Mara, and Finn were breathing hard, covered in sweat, mud, and blood.
I went back to the wheel.
It was almost closed.
I put everything I had into it and pushed.
The wheel turned the last half turn with a loud clank.
The gate shut.
Water stopped pouring into the lower district.
I went back to Ilin, lifted her, and carried her off the walkway.
We reached the staging area.
The healer was waiting. She took one look at Ilin and said, "Cot. Now."
I carried Ilin to a cot inside the aid tent and laid her down.
"You overdid it," I said.
"I had to," she said.
"You matter more than one creature," I said.
"You matter more than my exhaustion," she said, echoing my words.
I sighed. "You're stubborn."
"You love it," she said, and smiled weakly.
I took her hand.
The healer checked Ilin's pulse, pressed her fingers to her wrist, and shook her head. "You're at your limit. No more healing until you've rested."
Ilin nodded. "I understand."
The healer left.
Ilin leaned her head on my shoulder. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," I said. "I'm just glad you're okay."
She was quiet for a moment. "When this is over, I want to learn how to use a blade. So I don't have to rely only on the staff."
"I'll teach you," I said.
"I'd like that," she said.
We sat in silence, listening to the distant fighting.
After a while, Ilin said, "I'm scared that one day I won't have enough energy left."
I turned to her. "Then I'll be the one protecting you."
She looked at me. "And I'll be the one keeping you alive."
"That's the deal," I said.
She smiled, tired but genuine.
I leaned in and kissed her forehead.
"You rest," I said. "I'll be right here."
"I know," she said.
She closed her eyes and fell asleep, her hand still in mine.
I stayed, watching her, listening to the rumble of the fight beyond the tent.
Garrick was on a cot across the aisle, his eyes closed, his side bandaged again. Mara was sitting on her cot, trying to straighten her bent pipe wrench. Finn was sitting on the floor, cleaning his steel rod.
I thought about what Ilin said — about being scared of not having enough energy left. I understood that fear. I was scared too. Scared that I wouldn't be fast enough, that my blade would miss, that one of them would die and it would be my fault.
The rift was still there, the city was still burning, and we still had more fighting ahead.
But for now, Ilin was safe, breathing evenly, her hand in mine.
And that was enough.
A while later Ilin stirred, her fingers tightening around mine.
"You're still here," she murmured, eyes still closed.
"Yeah," I said.
She opened her eyes and looked at me. "You didn't leave."
"I told you I wouldn't," I said.
She smiled. "You keep your promises."
"I try to," I said.
She shifted, moving closer so her head rested on my chest. I wrapped my arm around her, careful not to press on her injured arm.
"You should sleep more," she said.
"I will," I said. "After you're asleep."
She laughed softly. "You're impossible."
"You love it," I said.
"I do," she said.
We stayed like that, the noise of the camp fading into the background, the two of us existing in a small quiet pocket while the world burned around us.
Ilin's breathing slowed again. I could feel the rise and fall of her chest against me.
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"I'm glad it's you," she whispered.
"Me too," I said.
After a while, Ilin said, "When this is over, I want to find a quiet place. No fighting. No rift. Just… a quiet place."
"I want that too," I said.
"And I want to actually eat something that isn't a ration bar," she added, and I laughed.
"Me too," I said.
She squeezed my hand. "And I want to see you smile without blood on your face."
I smiled. "You'll see it."
She smiled back.
A healer walked past our cots, checking on the other wounded. I could hear her murmuring reassurances, adjusting bandages, handing out cups of water.
Ilin watched her for a moment. "Do you think the city can be saved?"
"I don't know," I said honestly. "But I think we can save the people we can reach."
She nodded. "That's enough for me."
She was quiet again, then said, "You know, the first time I saw you, I thought you were just another soldier who didn't care."
"What changed your mind?" I asked.
"You came back for me," she said. "Most people wouldn't have."
"I couldn't leave you," I said.
She smiled. "I'm glad you didn't."
I squeezed her hand.
A while later, the healer came back and checked Ilin's pulse again. "You're stable. Get another hour of sleep if you can."
Ilin nodded. "I will."
The healer looked at me. "You should rest too."
"I will," I said.
The healer moved on.
Ilin closed her eyes, but after a minute she opened her eyes again. "Tell me about the water tower."
I smiled. "It was old, rusted, the ladder was shaky. I used to climb it after my shift. From the top you could see the river, the market, the old park. On clear nights you could see the stars."
"What did the stars look like?" she asked.
"Bright," I said. "Like someone scattered salt across black velvet."
She smiled. "I've never seen stars like that. The city lights always drown them out."
"You'll see them."
She closed her eyes again. "I'm holding you to that."
"You can."
We were quiet for a while.
Ilin's breathing slowed, deepened.
I watched her face, the way her eyelashes rested on her cheeks, the faint line of the scar on her chin.
I thought about the night — the rift, the creatures, the way Ilin had thrown herself in front of that man to heal him even though it cost her. The way she'd saved me on the bridge, again in the rail yard, again on the train, again in Sector 9, again on the river bridge, again at the power station, again at the communications tower, again at the water treatment plant, and now at the flood gate.
I'd never felt this kind of closeness with anyone. Not in the factory, not with coworkers, not with anyone I'd known before tonight.
It scared me, a little.
But it also steadied me.
Ilin shifted in her sleep, her hand tightening around mine.
I adjusted the blanket over her, tucking it around her shoulders.
I was exhausted, my muscles sore, my shoulder and forearm aching even after Ilin's healing. But I couldn't sleep yet.
I kept watch.
A while later, Ilin murmured in her sleep, "I love you."
My chest tightened.
"I love you too," I said, even though she was asleep.
She smiled in her sleep.
I stayed there, holding her hand, listening to her breathe, watching the lantern light flicker on her face.
Outside, the rift pulsed, the city burned, and the war continued.
But inside this small corner of the aid tent, it was quiet, and Ilin was safe, and I was with her.
That was enough.