Yellow paint marked the pillars, so cars wouldn’t drive into gray pillars against a backdrop of gray ground and gray buildings. More of the paint had been used to define the boundaries of the road. Perhaps because the yellow paint was so prevalent, some enterprising vandals had used a boatload of it to scrawl crude images and words along many surfaces—only some of which had been cleaned or partially cleaned. I suspected the cleanup crews were high school students working as part of a morning or afternoon block, because there seemed to be a bias in the graffiti that was partially removed versus the images that hadn’t been touched. Art was allowed to stay up as long as possible.

Again, I was guided to a food court, this one beside a complicated concrete edifice with extraneous pillars and supports, and a long overhang that kept things dry in the light rain. Again, the graffiti, I noted. Maybe it was something Tattletale liked or identified with the Undersiders.

This time, though, I wasn’t arriving alone.

It was an odd feeling, to have the team with me, when things stood where they did. Minus two members, but most of us were present. Yes, things were tense and uneasy, but there had been a moment back there where I’d been damn proud of all of them. Against Cradle in particular, we’d stood together.

Once we’d figured out where we were going, deciding on a route that avoided the settled areas and roads, Vista had shortened the distance as much as she could. We’d left Kenzie’s projector cube behind, in favor of the faster trip. Even with the shortcut, we’d had to hitch a ride to get ourselves here. Concord Station.

The Undersiders were waiting for us. They sat on tables and chairs, or lounged with stuffed animals and mutant dogs giving them something to lean on or sit on. Foil and Imp stood, while others sat or leaned back. Foil was stock still, on guard, and Imp was restless.

There were others. I recognized Snuff. There was the boy with the birds. Two people were dressed to match Rachel in general style, with heavy clothes that seemed more utilitarian, except for bits and pieces, like a collar here or a spiked belt wrapped around the arm there. The guy wore a bear trap decoration around his lower face.

Maybe those were utilitarian too, with ‘intimidation’ being the sought-after utility.

They would have outnumbered us without the mutant dogs and the giant stuffed animals with the black cloth. With them, though? Three to one.

Similar to Snag’s numbers, now that I thought about it.

“The Fallen reached the city a bit ago,” Tattletale said. “They didn’t go in with guns blazing, but they’re liable to come out that way.”