Heart of Steel - Meljean Brook [88]
“I can see,” Yasmeen said. Drawing her machetes, she entered the twisting stairwell. Snow covered the first steps, but the stone was bare past the turn. His palm against the rough block wall, Archimedes felt his way in the dark, and almost bumped into Yasmeen when she stopped.
Her whisper was irritated. “It’s too dark for me now, too.”
With a silent laugh, he opened the valve to start the gas and lit the lamp. The reflector bowl cast a wide, bright light, revealing granite blocks and steps. A few more turns, and the stair opened to the barracks’ second level.
Yasmeen hesitated briefly. “This one first?”
He nodded. Better not to have a zombie at their backs.
They stepped out into the corner chamber. The barracks ran north into the side of the mountain and east along the face of the wall toward the main gate, a long series of chambers connected by doors. To the north, the chambers were all but empty. Either the departing soldiers had taken everything with them, or the Horde outpost had done some scavenging of its own. A few tables remained—perhaps too big to take down the stairs. Arched openings in the stone walls served as windows overlooking the dark courtyard, and small mounds of snow piled on the sills and the stone floor.
No zombies.
They returned to the tower and started east. Debris on the floor gave Archimedes some hope of a find, but he’d sift through it after they secured the fortress. They reached the gate, where the fortifications were twice as thick and separated the barracks that ran along the curtain wall. Another twisting stairwell led below, and with the top level cleared, they didn’t have to fear zombies coming at them from above.
“Shall we make a stand here?” Yasmeen murmured. “We can escape through the stairs if we’re overwhelmed.”
By all appearances, they wouldn’t be. There were fewer zombies in this region to begin with, and only one set of footprints above. Though they might simply be lying quiet, as they had been in the Vienna keep, it was more likely that only a few were here.
He nodded. “Yes.”
They dropped their packs, readied their weapons. After a glance confirming that she was ready, he gave a whoop that echoed through the chambers. Removing her hat, she exposed her softly pointed, tufted ears. She turned her head, listening.
“Anything?” He didn’t need to whisper now.
“Not yet.” She drummed her machetes against the stone wall, making racket enough to wake the dead. “Hiyoooooo, zombieeees!”
When the echoes and his laughter faded, she shook her head. “I don’t hear anything.”
“All right. Let’s move on.”
They cleared more chambers, arriving at the southwest tower again, then heading north toward the mountainside. The snow outside had piled higher than the window openings, drifts spilling into the chambers in large mounds. In the courtyard, dark machinery jutted up through the white, huge and indistinct—war machines abandoned in the middle of construction, or simply the scrap heap from what was left. Yasmeen stopped at one of the windows, peering out, her head tilting back as her gaze continued upward.
Her lips parted. “There’s snow all over so I can’t see what it is . . . but it’s huge. Not like one of da Vinci’s. More like one of the Horde’s early war machines, the domed clambering ones that looked like turtles.”
Unease rippled through him. That didn’t make sense. How could something that big get into the fortress—or out? It would have to crash through the walls, and they were intact.
A rumble sounded from the courtyard. Yasmeen froze, eyes wide. Archimedes doused the light, heart pounding. That hadn’t been zombies.
That had been a steam engine.
The clank of metal against stone echoed through the chambers, followed by a huffing snort. Then more