We step through the heavy hatch door, Marc at my heels while the rest of the fifty or so Miners and Wasters bring up the rear. My breath is deafening in my ears as I lead the group up the wide set of stairs towards the surface. The air around us is cool and stagnant, protected by the impassive walls that make up the dome.

We reach the top of the stairs and step out onto the cobbled path. Dark farmland stretches out on both sides of us, illuminated only by the barest shards of moonlight. I make a hard turn off the path and into the pitch-black field, continually scanning the area around us, my eyes straining to pick out any movement.

Gods, there is no feeling I hate more than this; the realization that I am incredibly exposed and vulnerable. Worse still, it is not only my own safety that I am responsible for.

I can see the rickety stairs to the grid up ahead, set flush against the wall of the dome. Beelining straight for it, I glance over my shoulder at the snaking collection of people. To my trained eyes we appear incredibly conspicuous, our footsteps thrashing against the high stalks of grass and our silhouettes prominent to anyone who would care to look closely. Steady, Kay. Just a few more feet.

We move quickly across the exposed ground, the stronger people helping the more malnourished across the uneven terrain. Finally reaching the stairs, I skip lightly up, glancing skyward while keeping my eyes peeled for any sign of Lara. The grid seems abandoned for the moment, but we have a long way to go.

I pause at the second level landing, leaning over the guardrail and scanning the ground below. I catch sight of Will and Gus ushering the last of our charges up the steps and relax slightly. We are still susceptible to anyone patrolling the grid, but at least we are no longer on the ground. As if sensing my gaze, Will glances up, catching my eye and nodding grimly. Keep going.

"You all right?" Marc whispers close to my ear. I give him a tight smile in response and turn back to the next set of stairs, ignoring the hammering in my chest.

The sound of many booted and bare feet against the iron gridwork is positively maddening. My head aches with the strain of having to constantly scan the perimeter, deciphering the shadows and various crevices as threats or empty space. I lean out once or twice to check on our progress. Gods, it just goes on and on.

Nearing the fourth landing I slow my pace, placing a hand out to Marc. He draws to a stop, signalling a halt down the line. I slow my breathing and concentrate, willing my eyes to adjust to the worsening darkness as I fight to make sense of the shadow overhead.

"Wait here." I murmur.

I clamber on top of the railing and pull myself up to the next level, sidling sideways so that I can approach the figure from behind. The people below me press themselves against the wall and I catch a glimpse of the occasional upturned face as they watch my progress.

I perch silently on the last railing, not even daring to breathe as I examine the person waiting impassively. She turns and I release an audible sigh of relief, startling Lara who drops her satchel with a shuddering clang.

"Keep it down!" I hiss, stepping onto the iron platform. I lean over the rail and give a low whistle. A moment later the grid beneath my feet shudders with fifty pairs of feet resuming their progress upwards.

"You scared the life out of me." Lara stoops down to retrieve her satchel, hugging it tightly against her chest.

"Good. If you didn't see us coming, then maybe an a Enforcer won't be able to, either."

Lara's eyes widen as she takes in the snaking line of people working their way up towards us. "Gods, Kay. How many are there?"

"We ran into some difficulties." I explain. Marc appears next to me, eyeing Lara with a mild curiosity.

"Come on, we need to keep moving." Inclining my head towards the next staircase we press on, pushing ever-higher.

With each subsequent level the danger increases. Babel's walls slope inwards, bringing us closer and closer to the centre of the city and, most worryingly, towards the Madam's tower. I can just make out the jagged proportions of the impressive feat of architecture up ahead, the peak nearly scraping the floor of the hangar. For a single, traitorous moment I imagine the Madam glancing out her balcony window and being treated to a full view of myself and the dozens of ragged people behind me. I wonder if she would be amused, and would watch our pathetic attempt for a few minutes before ordering the eventual armada of mech--Enforcers to tear us down.

I swallow once, bodily, and force the thought aside. We're about halfway there.

It is significantly brighter up here, the moonlight covering everything save a pathetic shred of shadow near the wall. We stick to the darkness as much as we are able, but every time I glance over my shoulder, I can clearly see several people shuffling along the scaffolding, even catching the occasional glimpse of Will and Gus bringing up the rear.

We are about three-quarters of the way up when I see him.

An Enforcer, standing just over our heads, swinging his sword casually as he strolls back and forth. I draw to a halt and reach out a hand instinctively, pressing Marc and Lara flush against the wall. My gesture travels down the line until everyone of us is frozen in place, hidden yet completely exposed.

I mutter a curse under my breath, my eyes aching as I track the Enforcer's progress. He wanders near the spire of the Madam's tower, several feet above us. For the moment, his gaze seems to be kept to that level, but I have no doubt that if he were to give the barest of glances over the railing that he would see us.

I swallow a litany of curses as my mind works furiously to come up with a plan. Gus' special brew of invisible gas would be useless in this open space, and killing or capturing him would raise too many questions. What are our other options?

"Lara." I murmur. She flinches when I utter her name, revealing her nerves.

"What?" She whispers.

I tear my eyes away from the pacing guard to look at her. "I need your help."

She clutches her satchel, holding the bundle to her chest and shaking her head violently.

I furrow my brow. "If you don't do this, none of us are getting out of here."

"No."

"Yes."

"I can't." She chokes, her eyes wide as they dart towards the shadow above us. "Please, Kay. Don't make me. Don't leave me here."

Her words cut through me like a dagger. I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek, hating myself for thinking that this is the only way. If I had more time, if there weren't so many people waiting for my decision, then I would have tried to find another option.

"I'm not leaving you." I grab her by the chin and force her frightened gaze into mine, capturing her attention. "Do you understand me? I'm coming back."

"I'm more than this, you know." Her lower lip trembles before her blue eyes flash and she straightens with a steely resolve. "I'm not just some piece of bait for your schemes."

I blink, my hand falling limply to my side.

"I'll do it." She says, thrusting her satchel at a bewildered Marc. "Because I owe you that much. But know that if you don't come back for me, that I will be finding my own way out, by whatever means necessary."

"Noted." I watch as she straightens her dress and smooths her hair. "Do you know what to do?"

"I have an idea." She purses her lips. "I'll lead him in the other direction while you run up the stairs."

I nod, tersely. "Move as quick as you can, we don't have much time."

"Fine."

She heads towards the catwalk, not sparing me a second glance. At the last moment I grab hold of her wrist, squeezing tightly.

"Thank you." I say, meaning it.

She tugs her arm free. "You better come back."

"I will."

She spins on her heel, skipping lightly across the catwalk. I wait with my back flush against the wall, watching her retreating figure and willing myself to become part of the structure. Above me, the shadow of the Enforcer moves lazily in our direction. He takes a few shuffling steps, stops, and moves towards the railing.

I hold my breath, offering a prayer to every god I can name. Lara's slender figure has disappeared into the darkness on the opposite side of the dome; I can no longer make her out. I can practically hear the combined heartbeats of fifty frantic people, some of whom are too far away to even know what we've stopped for. I think of Will near the end of the line, grim faced as he waits for me to find a way past. Come on, Lara. Hurry.

The Enforcer's shadow shifts. I can make out the top of his head over the side of the ledge. A few more steps and we will be in full view.

One black-gloved hand furls over the iron railing. I watch raptly, fighting the urge to squeeze my eyes shut. This is it.

He steps close enough that I can make out his profile. His head is turned, looking at something near the far wall. One endless, breathless moment later and he releases the railing, leaning casually against it as he catches sight of our bait.

Lara's footsteps echo obnoxiously across the iron grating, the sound jarring to my ears after the long minutes of tense silent. She releases a shrill giggle, stumbling slightly as she joins the Enforcer at the railing.

"Well hello, there. I didn't expect to find anyone else up here." She says, releasing another peal of drunken laughter. I cringe, despite myself. Next to me, I can see Marc and a couple others doing the same.

"What are you doing so far from your bed, missy?" The Enforcer asks, almost lazily. "Don't you know it's past curfew?"

"I was never much for rules." She giggles. From my vantage point, I can see one pale hand snake it's way around the man's neck. "What about you?"

"I am the rules, beautiful." I hear a light tapping and picture him gesturing at his shiny Enforcer badge.

"In that case, perhaps I could be persuaded to change my opinion."

Their profiles disappear as they step away from the ledge. I watch the two shadows continue along the catwalk, towards the opposite wall. Lara's footsteps continue to ring out across the cavernous space, now joined by the less-than-reluctant tread of the Enforcer. I strain my eyes through the darkness, watching until the twin shadows have nearly disappeared before ushering the group forward again.

I keep our pace steady, mindful that while we spiral upwards, Lara and the guard are passing us by. Darkness can only disguise so much, and with an entourage of sick and injured people, our odds of creating a disturbance are high.

Babel's roof looms ever-closer, the moon now plainly visible through the loose stitching of the hangar floor. My eyes reflexively scan each level and the one above before we reach it, my confidence growing with each subsequent staircase. Impossibly, it looks as though we're going to make it.

Finally, mercifully, we arrive at the landing below the storage room. I leave Marc and dart up the stairs, making a lap of the top two floors, assuring myself that they are, in fact, abandoned. I grip my dagger as I search. At this point in the game, I am more than prepared to compromise the stealth we so carefully preserved.

Satisfied, I jog back to the steps and give my low whistle, standing back to help usher everyone into the hangar.

Our ship is just how we left it, tethered directly below the opening in Babel's roof. It drifts closer to the ground than the others, a result of my tampering with her helium flow.

Someone grabs the plank and carries it over, leaning it against our ship's entrance. The Wasters and Miners flood aboard, settling themselves comfortably while I crawl beneath the front dash and reattach the bracket I removed from the pipes.

I cast off my headscarf, clambering back over the ledge of the ship and dropping to the ground. There is still a line of people making their way up the stairs, but somehow, Gus has managed to push ahead of the crowd and insert himself in the radio control booth. I jog over to him, stopping briefly to offer a hand to a shaking woman.

Gus' spectacles perch on the edge of his nose, a thin sheen of perspiration causing them to slip down his face. I join him in the booth, watching as he fiddles with the various dials and switches.

"How long can you knock out the signal for?" I ask.

"As long as I like, but I think an hour should give you plenty of time to get out of range." He says. He has removed his headscarf and his unruly hair is sticking up at all angles. Standing over the switchboard, he reminds me more than ever of a mad scientist.

"That's great." I say. Placing a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Gus. We couldn't have done this without you."

He grins in that shy way. "Piece of cake, wasn't it?"

"Couldn't have been more simple." I agree. He steps away from the switchboard momentarily and wraps me in a hug, the sudden gesture catching me by surprise. Something pricks behind my lashes as the stresses of the evening threaten to catch up with me.

I hug him back and step away quickly, offering up a grin. "This isn't a goodbye, you know. I'm going to be seeing you again, very soon."

"You'll be speaking with me even sooner." He gestures to the portable radio. "Every day at midnight, channel eight."

"I'll talk to you then." I fight the urge to give him one last hug, surprised at how much I am going to miss this eccentric Babelonian. "Stay safe, and look after Lara, would you?"

"You got it." He nods, shoving the spectacles back up the bridge of his nose. "Have a nice flight."

We squeeze hands once and I step out of the booth, just in time to catch the last of our people appearing at the top of the stairs. Will brings up the rear, his arm wrapped around the waist of an exhausted Waster woman. I rush to help him, and together we manage to get everyone aboard.

I help him lower the Waster woman carefully to the floor. Glancing around, I can see that most everyone is ready to go. Some people have settled into the chairs lining the deck while others huddle together in groups on the floor. Marc and the other soldiers have gathered near the bow of the ship, studying the map and checking the instruments.

I follow WIll back down the plank, untying the tether and casting it aside while he pushes the hovering behemoth into place. I can see Gus through the window of the control room, bent over the panel as he continues to make his adjustments. He glances up, catching my eye and holding up one finger. I nod my understanding and move to join Will at the base of the plank.

"I guess that's it." I say, glancing about the space. "We're ready to go."

He releases a breath of air between his teeth. "I can't believe that this worked."

"I know." I shake my head. "I feel as though we just climbed through hell."

He quirks a rueful smile. "A very apt analogy, Runner."

"Well then, shall we?" I take a step up the plank.

His steely gaze darts towards the ship and back at me. "I'm not going with you."

My heart neglects a beat and I freeze in place. "What?"

"I said, I'm not going." He reaches out a hand, then seems to think better of it and brings it back down. "I have to stay here. Just for a little while longer."

"No, you can't." I struggle to make sense of the situation. "No, Will."

"I can't leave while the rest of our people are still trapped down below." He searches my face, imploring me to understand. I don't. I can't. I won't. "Kay, please look at me."

"What are you talking about? Will..." A dull throb forms behind my temple and I rub my brow to relieve it. "We're leaving. We agreed to leave. You can't do this."

"I have to." He pulls my hand away from my face. "Kay, those are my people."

"They're mine too!" I nearly shout, tearing free from his grasp.

He shakes his head. "You don't understand. You weren't there, in the Wastelands with us. We fought together, we protected one another. When your comrade was in trouble, it was the troop's responsibility to help them. Everyone looked after everyone else. I can be of more help if I stay behind, so that's what I'm going to do."

I stare at him incredulously, scarcely believing that my solid, dependable Will would abandon me now, when my nerves feel so shredded that they may as well disintegrate.

"You knew all along." I accuse, my voice hollow. "You never intended to leave."

His silence says everything.

"Please." I try one last time. I want to tell him to come for me, to choose me over everyone else. They need him? I need him. Something happened to me, down below. Something I am utterly terrified to process. My greatest fear is that the moment my feet leave this hangar, the full weight of everything I have done to get to this point will come crashing down.

But I can't ask him to make that choice.

"Kay." He takes a step closer. "I'm so sorry."

I stiffen at his nearness. "How can you ask me to leave you, after everything?"

He stops in his tracks, a pained expression crossing his dark features. His answer is simple. "Because, you are the only one who understands and loves me, no matter what."

"Gods damn you, Will."

"I'm sure they intend to." He catches me when I take another step back, gripping me around the waist and pulling me to him. "I meant it when I said we were in this together, Kay. We aren't leaving each other."

"That's not what it looks like." I squirm angrily in his grasp but he holds firm.

"I need you to try and see why I have to be here. I can't run anymore." He forces my eyes into his. "This is the last time. I promise."

"Our promises don't mean anything." I make another attempt at pushing him away, gasping when he tugs me closer.

"You don't need me the way you think you do, Kay. You're strong enough on your own. You're the strongest person I know."

There is a light tapping from the radio booth behind us. Gus has signaled that he is ready to knock out the radio towers Our time is up.

"You're a selfish, lying prick, Will. I hope you know that." I reach up, grasping his bearded face and pulling his lips down to mine, holding him close while we kiss.

"I know." He grunts when we draw apart. "I'm going to make it up to you."

"I'll hold you to that." I finally manage to disentangle myself from his arms, placing one foot on the plank. My chest lurches painfully as I watch him, holding his hand until the last second before releasing and jogging the rest of the distance into the ship.

Will moves the plank aside as I step up to the bow of the ship. It only takes me a moment to locate the helium dial and I turn it slowly, leaning out over the ledge as I peer up at the dome's only exit.

We ascend smoothly, bypassing the scaffolding and entering the clear night sky. The fresh air is shocking to my skin and goosebumps rise on my flesh. Once we have safely cleared the roof I glance down, catching a glimpse of Will's dark form looking back up at us. Something pulls painfully within me as the distance between us increases. I tear my eyes away from the sight, taking a deep breath as I concentrate on steering the ship back along the river.

That's it. We've done it, we're out.

My passengers' anxious murmuring rises to an excited chatter. They know that we're safe now, they know that we're on our way home. Home, a strange term for the roughshod camp that we're headed towards. Jaron, Luca and Rowan will have been kept busy gathering the Wasters for battle and getting word back to the City. I wonder what we will find when we arrive at the hidden camp, and whether we will ever truly be safe from the Madam's watchful eye.

I grip the steering wheel more securely, my sweat-coated hands slipping on the spokes. I swallow in a superhuman effort to suppress the nausea churning my stomach. I came to Babel for one purpose; to bring him home. Having failed at that, how can I appreciate this moment?

Marc appears next to me, elbowing my ribs gently in an effort to jerk me from my thoughts.

"You okay, Red?" He asks.

Looking up into his grime-covered face, I feel a distinct twinge of guilt. My problems are laughable compared to what Marc and the others have gone through. With that assertive shift in perspective I manage to straighten my shoulders and nod.

"I'm fine." I tell him. Offering up a small smile, "What about you? Do you ever get tired of playing the damsel in distress?"

He laughs, the uninhibited sound causing several people to look our way. He throws an arm around my shoulder and draws me to his side, planting a loud kiss on my hair.

I let my friend hold me for a moment longer than necessary, thinking of Will, hoping with every fibre of my being that he can remain out of sight until we return. Once the Madam notices the missing airship, Will, Gus and Lara will be in a considerable amount of danger.

Together, Marc and I stare out the back of the ship and watch the sun begin to make its steady ascent over the horizon, painting the sand it's early shade of gold. The radio towers and the dome recede into the distance, the mirrored facade winking in the morning light, as though saying goodbye.

I'm coming back. I think, forcing my eyes away from the scene behind us, and instead concentrating on the dune-filled landscape ahead.

And next time, I'm taking all of you with me.

Using one of the maps stored aboard the ship, I show the troops Babel's location and our agreed-upon meeting place. They help to direct me further North, away from the conspicuously flat land bordering the river, and into the mountainous, dune-filled terrain. It doesn't take long to reach our destination, and as we draw close and I begin releasing the helium, the Miners and Wasters get to their feet to gawk at the camp below.

I lean over the dash, carefully maneuvering the airship onto a patch of hard-packed sand sandwiched in between two dunes. The camp is built in the Waster style, tucked deep in a nearly-inaccessible, hilly region, with several sand-coloured tents dotting the narrow pathways.

I blink once, thinking that my eyes are playing tricks on me. I don't know what I was expecting to be accomplished in the four days I was in Babel, but I certainly never imagined this.

As we draw closer to the ground, I can make out the figures gathered below, forming a half-circle around my landing point. Wasters and Miners, hundreds, could it be thousands? of them, flooding from the camp and waving their arms excitedly at our approach. I feel my breath catch in my throat as more and more details come into focus.

Horses, more people, and what I believe is several airships tucked off to the side, their telltale silver balloons removed. I crane my neck to look around the ships and see the mechanical, wheeled contraptions the Wasters used to blow a hole in our outer Wall.

Marc speaks my thoughts aloud. "My gods." He says, his eyes wide with excitement. "We are ready for war."

I nod wordlessly, tearing my eyes away from the remarkable sight to finish maneuvering the ship. We touch down with a soft bump and there is a sudden flurry of activity.

Someone brings us a ramp and one by one my passengers disembark. We are swarmed by the people on the ground, all of them cheering as the former prisoners are helped into the camp. I feel myself relax unconsciously while I watch the proceedings, an acute weight lifting from my shoulders.

"Kay!" A voice shouts from below. "Kay! Are you up there?"

I glance over the side of the ship, my heart soaring as I recognize the speaker. In one fluid motion I heave myself over the side of the ship and fall to the soft sand beneath. Her arms are outstretched and I run straight into them, holding her tightly against me, forgetting the wound in her shoulder.

Meg laughs in my ear, the simple sound doing wonders to relieve the lingering pain in my chest.

I pull back, smiling widely. She looks marvelous, dressed practically in pants and a tunic, her dark hair braided tightly. Though her clothing choice makes her hardly distinguishable from the hundreds upon hundreds of people ebbing and flowing around us, she is undoubtedly a queen.

"I should have known you would be here." I say, fondly.

She chuckles, smoothing a strand of hair back from my face. "We have a war to win. Where else would I be?"

"Not sitting on some cushion in the Palace, certainly."

"Not really my style." She agrees. Looking past me, her brow furrows. "Where's Will? Did you find him?"

It is becoming easier to handle the sudden, painful lurches my heart gives at the thought of Will. "Yes, I found him. He chose to stay behind."

Her blue eyes scrutinize me carefully. I am careful to keep my expression neutral, but she knows me too well. "Are you all right?"

"Fine." I answer, quickly. Changing the subject, I gesture at the scene around us. "How did you manage to get this army organized so quickly?"

"I'm the Queen." She cocks an eyebrow. "As soon as we received word that you had located the Madam's base, we shipped out every willing man and woman. It wasn't difficult; when our people know that their Runner is fighting, they want to fight too."

Another uncomfortable heave in my chest.

Meg continues to speak, smoothly rescuing me from having to say anything. "Jaron organized the Wastelanders. I don't think a single camp turned him down; he's told me that this is the largest gathering of Wastelanders ever assembled." I don't miss the note of fondness her voice takes on when she speaks of the Waster chief.

"That is remarkable." I turn in place, marvelling at the busy camp and catch sight of a familiar, lanky figure making his way towards us. The Waster arrives in his typical, soundless fashion, his blue-black eyes flashing in the morning light.

"Miner." One of Luca's rare grins makes an appearance. "I am pleased that you did not fall."

"Thanks, so am I." I feel Meg squeeze my hand as she heads back towards the camp, likely in search of Jaron.

"You were successful?"

"You tell me." I nod towards the ship, where the last of the passengers are just disembarking.

He follows my gaze, his wiry frame suddenly becoming stock-still. His normally sullen face takes on an expression I've never seen him wear before, eyes stretched wide while his mouth drops open in shock.

"What is it?" I ask, fighting to make sense of what he has seen. A pair of dirty, malnourished people are making their way gingerly down the plank, leaning heavily on the Miners who have stepped up to offer a shoulder.

"It's Noah." He says. "By the gods, Kay. You've brought back my brother."