Eloi

Eloi Chapter Forty Nine
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… The rest are coming this afternoon my time… Wheeeee… InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena, and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. :) ProPhile: It’ll be sent later. Morgan: *glomp * Readers/Reviewers: Thanks lots and lots for reading/reviewing as you can! :)


Callisto inhaled deeply, trying not to draw attention to herself. Even in the alley near the Dumpster the air smelled cleaner than belowground. It bore none of the dank tang of sewage and stagnant puddles with the forgotten bits of trash and waste that floated through. Even in the dryer parts of the Tunnel, the air still bore a tinge of the sewage and damp mold smell the wet parts had. Something skittered across the toe of her boot but she did not even look down. Far worse things than a simple rat had touched her in recent years. “Listen up,” she said quietly but in a tone that brooked no argument, “the first two teams are already out and among the others. We are the rear guard, the big guns.” She smiled sharply in the dark alley, a thin glimmer of light from the sign on one of the buildings around them casting her face in an unearthly glow as she surveyed the small group under her direct command. Thornn and Feral had taken the first groups above, an hour or so before. They had done well, Marrow knew, coming through the manhole covers and storm drains like the stuff of the Eloi’s nightmares, reminders that all was not perfect and beautifully formed in the world. Now, she would lead the third group, the last ones to come to the surface before dawn. Striking at night had a psychological advantage, especially in a city. But doing it just before dawn, when the world was sleepy and disoriented, when one could not be sure if what they were seeing and hearing were true, that was the best, in Marrow’s opinion. Below, she had lost track of night and day, if she were to be honest with herself. Time had little meaning for her unless she forced herself to follow the hands on a clock. Darkness and light were the same thing, in the Tunnel. “Evan will come with me and we will flank you all. Fall into formation now. No one acts without my direct order, got it?” She glared, the murmurs of assent gratifying. “And anyone so much as thinks they spot Caliban…tell me.”

Evan did not look at Callisto as they made their way silently to the end of the alley. Beside him, Marrow flipped her bone blade over and over between her fingers, never coming close to cutting her flesh but doing a good job of making Evan nervous. “Can’t you go to the other side?” he muttered. “Isn’t it bad luck to have the two of us together? Too much bone or something…”
Marrow snorted derisively. “I think that will be the only time you are accused of having too much *bone*, Spyke. This is my place in formation and I’m staying here,” she added in a mockingly sweet tone. “Our dear leader has decreed it.”
Evan held his tongue. He knew of the animosity brewing between Marrow and Callisto and wanted no part of it. “I thought you weren’t going to do this,” he said a moment later, damning himself as soon as the words left his mouth. He felt rather than saw Marrow stiffen beside him at the mouth of the alley, the shadows hiding facial expression but doing nothing to disguise body language.
“Plans change, Spyke,” she spat the name like poison on her tongue. “Callisto just happened to be going my way.” She flipped the blade again and shifted to look at him more fully. “How’s the shoulder?”
Evan swallowed hard. Marrow’s tone was a threat wrapped in courtesy, reminding him of what she did and promising something more if he angered her. “Um, fine.”
“Um, good.”
Callisto’s hiss for silence brought everyone’s attention forward. “There’s a news crew two blocks to the west. This is not to be a media circus, is that understood?”
“Then what *is* it?” a tiny voice asked in the back of the group.
Callisto pushed forward, parting the group like the Red Sea. “Who said that?” No one confessed. She turned her glare on each group member in turn. “If you doubt your role, leave now. Slither back below where the Eloi want us to belong! Otherwise, shut up and follow!”
Evan felt his mouth and throat go suddenly dry. _Too real, _ a voice in his head shrieked. _Too real! _ He tugged at Callisto’s hand as she moved back to the front of the group. “What is this going to accomplish?” he asked softly. “We’re just scaring them, making them believe we’re the monsters under the bed! How is this helping us?”
Marrow sneered as Callisto jerked free of Evan’s light grasp and returned to her position without speaking a word to him. “You know,” the boney woman said quietly, “you’re not as dumb as you look sometimes.”
“Tha…hey!”
“Listen to me,” Marrow murmured so low and soft that Evan thought he was imagining it at first. “ Fall back when we hit the street proper. You’ll save yourself.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
They were already moving, stepping out onto the dimly lit street as a whole. The formation was loose, at best, but they were all armed and ready for confrontation. At least outwardly. Evan looked around, his eyes skimming over the distant news crew that was apparently reporting on Thornn and Feral’s foray into the upside with their groups, across the dark storefronts, past the parked car, and finally to Marrow. Marrow was pulling back, her steps slowing and the knife in her hand oddly still, held in a reverse grip as if she expected to do some slashing very soon1. The world felt like it was holding it’s breath around them and Evan wanted to be violently ill. He paused mid-step and looked at Callisto. Her face was blank except for the surprise in her eyes. “What,” he began, but felt himself jerked backwards. Marrow leapt forward, a keening cry torn from her throat. For a moment, Evan thought she was attacking Callisto. He tried to stand from where he had fallen on the cold, hard ground but was surrounded by legs and screaming and sudden, total chaos. Someone shouted that they were bleeding, that someone else was down, and it seemed to Evan as if that’s all it took for his awareness to snap into place. They were being attacked. Marrow had known it was coming and had tried to push him away. Blood splattered across his face, hot and heavy, and Evan gagged. The world was exploding around him and all he could do was sit and watch.

1 You go into a knife fight, you’re going to get cut. Law of averages. And it’s just a stupid idea to do things like that. Darwin said so. http://tkdtutor.com/15Weapons/Offensive/KnifeFighting.htm And a sidenote in case someone gets in trouble for reading this fic and their parents have a shitfit about it, I’m not encouraging anyone to do this.