And everywhere they went—foot by foot, yard by yard—the wall was intact and imposing. It disappeared up into the fog, its top lines reaching well beyond their field of vision. Occasionally it jutted out through the toxic air, its silhouette a shadow shaped like castle ramparts; usually it wore its halo of fog as thickly as a winter cap, and nothing but a dim suggestion of its shape could be seen.

When they paused to rest they huddled furtively, watching the ever-shifting screen of Blight conceal and reveal the city’s details at its capricious leisure. Once or twice they thought they were being followed, but nothing appeared from the alleys. Nothing leaped forth from the empty homes or shuttered businesses. Nothing joined or harassed them.

They listened, because it took less effort than speaking.

They pulled forward in a nearly vertical crawl, using their hands to hold the streets, which were eroded badly from years of rain and neglect.

For a while they heard the whoosh, drag, and suck of the farthest northern pump room, and they saw its great yellow tube poking up into the sky to reach the clearer air. The dull rumble of machinery somewhere beneath them felt like tremors under their feet. But this comforting, rollicking noise faded, and they couldn’t hear it even if they ignored the sound of their own lungs hauling air back and forth.

And when that steady, reassuring sound was gone, it was replaced by something else.

Rector grasped at Angeline’s sleeve.

“I hear…” She slowed, and stopped. The boys stopped with her. “Something.”

“Reminds me of the noise in Chinatown,” Zeke said quietly. “The men fixing the vents and the ceilings. It’s the noise of men building things.”

Rector made a valiant effort to peer through the fog, but failed to see anything of substance. He leaned forward to make himself heard. “I thought Yaozu was working to fix the city, shore it up, and all that malarkey.”

Houjin’s eyes were grave when he responded. “Not here. The north end of the wall … nobody lives out here. It’s no-man’s-land. It’s too far away from anything useful.”

Zeke added, “No Chinese, no Doornails. No men from the Station.”

“Or there shouldn’t be.” Angeline followed Rector’s lead and tried to peer through the fog by sheer willpower. She turned to the boys and said, “I think you fellows ought to head back. Let me go take a look at this. It could be dangerous.”

“No way.” Zeke shook his head hard enough to make the buckles on his mask rattle.

Houjin echoed the sentiment. “We’re coming, too.”

“I don’t know…”

Rector pushed back as well. “It could be dangerous. You shouldn’t go by yourself.”