Within the Walls

Chapter 40

Five hours.

Hatchman will reduce Segment Six to rubble and dust in five hours. In five hours, the Floodgates will be a victim of whatever lies beyond the walls. Whether that be the wild oceans, or the virulent disease, or the unknown. The mighty Walls trap us within the city, in Sneya's grasp. Without the Walls, we are at the mercy of the rest of the world. We are at its disposal.

"Elle, we need to get you cleaned up, now," Aston says from behind me.

At last, I tear my gaze from the blinking red light at Segment Six, turning to face him. "We do not have time, Aston."

"Elle, we need to get you cleaned up, now," Aston says from behind me.

At last, I tear my gaze from the blinking red light at Segment Six, turning to face him. "We do not have time, Aston."

"You're injured, Elle. How can you be of use?"

"But don't have time," My voice rises a notch, shrill with panic. "We only have five hours. Five! We do not know the bomb's wiring. We only about the timer. Hatchman can manipulate it."

"Aston is right, though, Elle," Ajax steps in, attempting a smile. "You will be of no use to this cause if you are bleeding everywhere. Let's take you to the research wing and glue back together."

"But we need more information about the bombs, Ajax," I snap, impatience getting the better of me. "That is our priority."

"Yes, it is our priority. But you are our friend, and nothing comes before you, alright?"

A gentle smile works its way onto my face despite me. "Thanks, Ajax."

We make our way to the research wing, passing by Convex servants and Concave ambassadors, all unaware that Lord Sneya is dead. It is an odd feeling, knowing he is dead when no one else does. Like city has held its breath, bracing itself for implosion. We file into an empty room in the research wing. Ajax closes the door, clicking the lock. A long, white table sits in the centre of the room.

"Elle, lay on the table," Ajax instructs, opening drawers at the equipment bench, sifting for equipment to help me.

"Do you know how to treat these wounds, Ajax?" Ruben grunts. Killian helps him sink into a plastic chair at the far side of the room.

"Not quite, you might have to coach me through it." Ajax pulls out a sterile needle, thread, and other various things.

"Why don't you just let me do it?" Ruben asks, rising to his feet, biting his lip to hold back the grimace.

At once, Killian pushes him back to his seat. "No, Ruben. You just rest and we will patch you up too."

Ruben opens his mouth to protest, but I cut in. "Don't even bother. There's no point. Ajax will do his best."

He glares at me, and I know it is taking every trace of him to bite his tongue. He nods. At once, Ajax gets to work. I lay on my stomach and drop my head in my hands, tilting my gaze to Monet as Killian gestures for her to sit in the second plastic chair beside Ruben.

"You are a Concave, right, Monet?" I ask, fighting back a grimace as Ajax peels the shredded material of my shirt away from my skin.

"Well, not quite. I was a Convex for a while, and then I met Killian."

"You were a Convex?" I ignore the sting of Ajax applying the antiseptic to my wounds, only allowing a hiss to escape my lips.

"I was," Monet nods. She draws in a deep breath as if steeling herself. "When they banished my parents from the Floodgates–"