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

thought you couldn’t remember them?”
    He shrugged.  “I don’t.  Not really.  I don’t remember their faces, their voices.  Their names.  But I remember they were here.”  His face dropped.  “And I remember somethin’ happened to ’em in the end.  Something bad.”  He turned his watery eyes to her.  “Why is it like that, do you think?”
    “Like what?”
    “That only the worst of life bubbles through to the surface.  Take you.  Of all the ways you could see yourself, you only see the monster.  And me?  I remember that my little ’uns are gone, but not what made ’em special.”  He drew the station cap from his head and motioned as if he might hurl it to the floor in frustration, then seemed to think better of it.  He placed it back carefully on his head.  “That’s our burden, no?”
    She gave him a sad smile.  “I guess it is.”
    There was another creak, louder than before, and then Ursie felt vibrations under her feet.  Something was different this time.  This was not the same kind of sound she’d heard before.
    She stared at the old man, fearful and uncertain.
    “Tobias?” she said, a quaver in her voice.
    Tobias stared back at her grimly, straining to listen.  Then something seemed to occur to him.
    “I know that sound,” he said, his face brightening.  He turned to stare along the tunnel, and Ursie moved beside him.
    Something was coming at them out of the gloom.
     

 
    14
    The cradle bobbed and swayed precariously for what seemed an eternity, until finally there was light from below.  They drew to a halt outside the open elevator doors to see another industrious group of workers milling around a makeshift camp of sorts, cobbling together what looked like defensive structures around the perimeter.  A gruff old man in grey coveralls steadied the cradle as they stepped out, then unclipped a radio from his belt and spoke into it.
    “Yeah, we got ’em.  Give us a minute to load up the next crate before you start haulin’ it back.”  There was a garbled reply, and he replaced the radio on his belt as he ran an eye over the new arrivals.  “You all right?” he asked no one in particular.
    “Yes, thank you,” Silvestri said.  “You and your people have saved us a lot of trouble in getting down here.”
    “Don’t get carried away,” the man cautioned.  “If you’re thinkin’ of moving out into Link, you still have to get through the entrance, and that ain’t gonna be easy.”
    “What’s the situation?” Duran said.
    “It’s a shit storm down there.  A bunch of Enforcers who were assigned to hold the gate have dug in.  They’re taking pot shots at anyone trying to get in or out.  Meanwhile, every man and his dog is trying to push through from outside.  Crazy bastards still think there’s somethin’ worth finding in here.”
    “Haven’t they seen the smoke pouring out of the Reach?” Talia said.  “And the garbage falling from the sky?”
    The man shrugged.  “Why don’t you go tell ’em, lady?  They ain’t listenin’ to anyone else.”
    “So what do you suggest?” Silvestri said.
    The man pointed to a nearby tunnel.  “Head to the south, over toward the loading docks.  That’s what we’ve been tellin’ people.  Less heat over there.  Less chance of wearing a bullet between the eyes.”
    “I know the place,” Duran said.  “We should be able to find it.”
    “Sure hope so,” the man said.  “We can’t spare anyone to hold your hand.”  He glanced across to the next elevator, where another cradle was arriving.  “I gotta go.  Good luck to you.”
    “This way,” Duran said, moving off.  The others fell in behind him, but Silvestri seemed preoccupied with the next cradle.
    “Silvestri, let’s move,” Talia said, and finally he broke away and came after them.  “What’s the problem?” she said when he reached her.
    “Look for yourself,” he muttered, inclining his head toward the elevators.  She did