If the pain hadn't been written clearly across his face too I wouldn't have listened but he was right, we were still lost, still unsure about what was going on with the battle.
In the far corner of the room, the roof had collapsed making it possible for us to climb out.
We clambered up onto the pitched roof, slipping on the red tiles and crossed over towards the muddy bank. There was a gap nearly two meters wide between the roof and the bank so we moved back to get a run up.
"I'll go first." Taylor took three bounding steps and leapt across the gap. He rolled as he hit the ground on the far side before climbing back to his feet. He beckoned for me to follow. "Come on."
I wiped my hand over my face, smearing my tears with Evan's blood, took a deep breath and ran to the edge.
At the last second, my foot slipped on one of the loose tiles and my jump half turned into a fall. I landed on the edge of the bank and started to slide back down. I clawed my fingernails into the dirt and kicked to push myself up.
Taylor's hand closed around my wrist and he wrenched me over the edge.
The wind was stronger on the higher ground and it whipped my hair back as we looked over the maze that was the battlefield. It was hard to see very far but it was clear that there were far more enemy fighters than friends left out there.
"I think we lost already," Taylor said quietly.
I nodded in agreement.
There was no clear path back to the starting zone. We needed to find Laurie. I looked around and realised, thankfully, that we had managed to head east for the most part on our journey. From our vantage point, it was easy to see where the Wardens were patrolling the perimeter near to the contaminated land.
We put the setting sun to our backs and moved forward.
The patrolling Wardens were further away than they had looked and we had to navigate our way over trenches which crisscrossed our path. Sometimes we could jump them otherwise we had to find a way around which could take a long time. All the while we were painfully aware of how exposed we were to anyone who might look up.
We fell into a routine of jumping, scanning the surrounding trenches for danger and moving along the banks as stealthily as possible. It was hard going, my muscles protested and I felt mentally exhausted. I'd never had such a long day in all my life.
Finally we got near enough to the Wardens to make out details about them. The first we came across was a large man who stared at us suspiciously as we turned away and headed towards the next.
We dismissed eight Wardens in all before the figure we were looking for became clear on the horizon.
Laurie was posted at the furthest point along the patrol, far enough away from the previous Warden that he was hard to pinpoint when we looked back. The wind picked up and whipped around us, throwing dust up into my face. I blinked furiously to clear my vision and saw a figure, clad in black, moving in the trench below us.
I rubbed my eyes to clear them and stepped forward, peering down.
"Did you see someone down there?" I asked.
"No." Taylor shook his head and started to walk away.
I searched the shadows below us one last time before turning to follow.
Chapter Fourteen
He sat, shrouded in the shadows by the wall of a trench.
It had been a good day in the end. He hadn't even had to do much fighting. He trailed a thumb across the line of knives that he had gathered along his belt. Their weight was reassuring. It would be a good haul by the time he was finished.
There was another fight taking place around the corner. When the screaming stopped he would make his move, see what they left behind. He drummed his fingers impatiently as the screaming lingered on. He hated it when they didn't kill cleanly, there was no need for people to suffer unnecessarily.
His eyes flickered with fatigue. He still wasn't sleeping properly. That was nothing new. He pulled a knife from his belt and inspected the sharp, slightly curved blade. It didn't look like the SubWar blades. It wasn't standard issue. He wondered vaguely where the original owner had found such an object. Not that there was any way to ask a dead man anything. And if he could ask the dead some questions it wouldn't be about some knife.
He frowned as his thoughts wandered, irritated at himself for the distraction. He spun the knife between his fingers and aimed the blade at his skin.
The metal cut into his thumb easily, sending a jolt of pain up his arm. It seared into his consciousness and he was fully awake once again. It was no time to let tiredness make him sloppy and the pain would help him focus.
Movement on the ridge above him caught his eye. A boy and a girl were walking along the bank, they may as well have been trying to get themselves killed. He shook his head in disgust and turned his attention away from them. Stupid people always sent his temper rising.
The gunshots finally cut the screaming short and he heard the victors move away. They never thought to take weapons from the dead which was perfect for him, even if he couldn't understand it.