CHAPTER 6: THE MAN WHO THOUGHT HE COULD SILENCE HER

Aria looked at the guard's raised palm, then at the steel gate bowing inward behind him, and she lowered the cloth bag to the concrete with great care, though she kept the toe of her shoe pinned against the strap. "Are you planning to search every passenger who's ever been accused of something?" she asked. "Because I think that'll take longer than the gate does."

"Stop wasting everyone's time, Isabella," Nicholas said, throwing a glance at the crowd as though he expected them to agree with him.

"Then you could stop wasting it by telling stories about me," Aria answered, without turning her head.

The guard rubbed his jaw with a trembling hand. "What exactly is she supposed to have stolen, sir?"

"Everything in that bag was bought with my money, so it's mine," Nicholas said, and Vanessa nodded behind his shoulder.

"He took the food and the water and left me hurt on the floor, and this is what I managed to gather after he'd gone," Aria said, crouching to unzip the bag, and her head swam so badly that she paused with one hand flat on the concrete before she lifted out the contents one at a time. "Crackers, a tin of peaches, water. Gauze, antiseptic, a bandage roll. The medical things are with me because I'm a medic, not because I mean to sell them."

"Can you prove that?" the guard asked, frowning down at the gauze.

"Not with a certificate, no." She stood slowly and held his gaze. "But I can ask whether you'd rather argue about who owns a bandage while people are bleeding in the street outside."

The gate rang under another blow, and Nicholas used the noise the way a pickpocket would, darting forward with his fingers hooked toward the strap. Aria snatched the bag against her chest a heartbeat before he closed his hand on it, and the movement sent a flash of white across her eyes that she hid behind a hard blink.

"Don't touch her," Maya said, stepping in with the torch lifted in both hands, her elbows trembling.

"You've no idea what kind of woman you're defending, girl," Nicholas said, and he laughed, a short ugly sound.

Aria moved between them and kept her voice low. "If you want another go at my things, do it without hiding behind a uniform."

"Sir, that's enough," the guard said, planting himself in front of Nicholas. "Either you board quietly, or you stay here, and I'm not holding up an evacuation for a family quarrel."

"It's not a family quarrel, it's theft," Nicholas protested.

"It wouldn't be anything at all if you'd left me alone," Aria said.

Vanessa tugged at his sleeve until he gave in, and he swung up into the truck with a last cold look over his shoulder. He settled on the bench just inside the rear opening, where he could watch the whole bay, and Aria felt his eyes on the back of her neck as she turned away.

The gate shrieked, and the bottom corner of its frame buckled inward by a hand's breadth. The driver gunned the engine, and the crowd surged toward the tailgate, shoving and shouting, pulling children up by their arms. The old man in the cardigan was already aboard, someone had hauled him up while Aria was arguing, and she was glad of it.

Near the toppled crates, an elderly woman sat with her back against a pallet and her hands clamped round her shin, and blood had soaked through her stocking and pooled on the floor beside her.

"Aria," Maya hissed, tugging at her elbow, and then corrected herself with a wince. "Isabella, we've got to get on the truck."

"In a minute," Aria said, already kneeling, and she tore open the pouch with her teeth. The cut ran deep along the shin, ragged where something had caught the skin, though the bone looked sound. She folded a square of clean gauze over it and pressed down hard. "Maya, take her other arm, will you? Don't let her put weight on that leg."

"Leave me, love," the woman said, her voice thin, one hand patting at Aria's wrist. "I'll only slow you down, and you're both so young."

"Is there anyone waiting for you at the shelter?" Aria asked, wrapping the bandage in firm turns.

"My son. He said he'd meet me there." The woman's mouth wobbled. "I don't know if he got through."

"Then we'll get you there to find out." Aria knotted the bandage and looked up as the guard jogged back toward them, sweat shining on his forehead.

"The driver won't wait any longer, we've got room for a few more," he said.

"Maya, go first and keep a space for her," Aria said, without looking round.

"I don't like leaving you out here, I don't..." Maya's voice cracked, but she turned and ran for the truck.

Aria and the guard hauled the old woman upright between them and shuffled across the floor, her good foot scraping the concrete and her breath coming in short, sharp pulls. A crash shook the gate, and a grey arm shot through the gap at the bottom, groping blindly across the ground. Someone near the entrance screamed, and the crowd lurched backwards in a wave.

"Almost there, Mrs, what's your name?" Aria asked, bracing the woman's weight against her own side.

"Bennett," the woman gasped. "Margaret Bennett."

"Right, Margaret, one big step and then you're up." They lifted her together, and Maya's hands came down over the tailgate to catch her, and the guard heaved her the last few inches into the truck.

The engine roared, and the vehicle jolted forward before Aria could climb up behind her.

"Leave her, she's the reason we've lost half an hour already!" Nicholas called from the bench, his voice carrying clearly over the engine.

Aria heard it. Her fingers tightened on the bag strap, and she did not so much as turn her head. She broke into a limping run alongside the tailgate and grabbed the rail with her free hand, and the guard shoved her up from behind with both palms against her back. Maya's fingers locked round her forearm and hauled, and Aria sprawled across the floor of the truck with her ribs ringing and the lamp clattering beside her.

The gate gave way with a groan of tearing metal. Through the rear opening she watched grey shapes pour across the loading bay in a ragged tide, heading toward the spot where she had stood a moment ago.

She gripped the rail until her knuckles whitened and breathed slowly through her nose. Nicholas sat a few feet away, still watching her, and she turned her face to the road.

The truck wound through a ruined street strewn with abandoned cars and spilled belongings, a child's pushchair lying on its side in the gutter. The driver shouted over his shoulder that the main route was blocked and that they'd have to take the long way round to the checkpoint, and the passengers broke into a babble of argument about whether the shelter was even still open.

Aria knelt beside the old woman and checked the dressing again, pressing her fingertips either side of the wound. "It's holding, Mrs Bennett, but you'll want it cleaned properly when we stop."

"You're a good girl, Isabella." The woman squeezed her hand with papery fingers. "My Thomas works with the emergency response people, you know, he'll be so grateful."

Maya had wedged herself against the side of the truck with the torch across her knees. "Why did you bother?" she asked quietly, jerking her chin at Mrs Bennett. "When we were nearly dead ourselves, I mean."

"Because being scared doesn't mean we get to stop being people," Aria said, tucking the blanket round the old woman's legs. "I know that sounds, I don't know, it sounds daft when you say it out loud."

"Oh, how heroic," Nicholas drawled from across the aisle, and Vanessa let out a small, bright laugh.

Aria did not look up from the bandage.

The truck rounded a bend, and a plume of black smoke rose over the rooftops ahead, thick and oily against the darkening sky. The driver eased off the accelerator, and then he stood on the brakes, throwing everyone forward against the benches.

A line of abandoned military vehicles lay slewed across the road, and a man in a torn camouflage jacket was running toward them with his rifle in one hand, waving his free arm over his head. "Turn back!" he screamed. "The road's overrun, turn back, turn back!"

Before the driver could answer, a shape moved between the wrecked jeeps, and the whole truck went quiet.

It stood nearly twice the height of the man, its shoulders swollen with ridged grey plates and its arms hanging past its knees, and when it lifted its head the movement was slow, almost curious. The guard fumbled at his holster, and Aria's hand closed around the neck of the lamp until the brass bit her palm.

The creature turned its face toward the truck and charged.