Deviation Actions
Literature Text
The journey beyond the outskirts of the city and to the children’s hideaway was ground to a halt by the massive sandstorm that came rushing through the city. Thus, despite their early preparations, the group was forced to wait for hours until it could pass over them. The only comfort it gave them was the assurance that the machines would also have been forced to fall back to wherever they came from to avoid being caught in it. If any Scavengers remained the blistering winds would’ve buried them, or in the very least have ruined their inner systems. The storm had given just enough of an opportunity for them to make their way through without worry.
The only true problem that had arose as a result was that the sky had already started to dim by the time they were free to move onward. They had to rush without further delay in order to make it by nightfall, and by the time they arrived a second wave of dust had already begun to rise from the South.
In any other circumstances, they might’ve had Sarah drop them off at the library so they could go their separate ways. However, Two was fairly adamant about seeing the other children once more, and Six and the twins had also shown an interest in meeting them. Being completely honest with himself, Nine didn’t want to leave them with the tension that had transpired either. If possible, he wanted to work something out between their two groups and maintain some sort of relation. Two had grown close to them in the short month that had passed, and Nine felt the same in the brief period he had known Sarah: He was certain those feelings weren’t isolated, despite how the others acted with reservation.
Only One had stubbornly refused to join them. Nevertheless he was outvoted, and all had agreed it was for the best not to separate from one another. Somehow, Nine and Seven were able to drag him along—with Three and Four both aiding them to the best of their abilities as he had fought furiously to force them to release him. And while the others talked with one another and gazed with intrigue across the flat landscape that was the territory outside the city borders, he continued to sulk alone on a unit of hardtack within Sarah’s basket.
Scaling up the tube of her gas mask, Nine pulled himself up upon the girl’s shoulder to speak in her ear. “So, what are you planning to do now?” he asked before offering, “I know the air isn’t very clean in the city, but I’m sure you and the others would be welcome to stay with us back in the library. One might’ve said some pretty terrible things, but he should warm up to you all eventually.”
For a minute, all he received in reply was her steady breathing coursing through the mask. Then she gave a steady shake of her head, “It doesn’t matter where we go: The machines will keep hunting us. We’re better off out here where at least the air’s a bit better.”
“But can the four of you really stay out here for much longer?” he pressed further. Just ahead of them, he could make out the scrap pile that marked their home underground. “You said yourself that you had to go deeper and deeper into the city for supplies. Your runs are just going to get longer as time goes on, and there’s barely anywhere else to hide out here.”
“And if we’re found it won’t even matter,” she countered. “They’ll tear through everything to catch us.” The metal sheets that covered the stairs leading to the entrance were pushed aside. “I’ve seen it happen before. We all have. Normally the people who travel by themselves as lucky, but the families…” The remaining light of day was cut off from them as she stepped down the stairs and once more covered the hole. “They never last. The more people that are in a group, the easier it is for the machines to track them. And Peggie and Rosie wouldn’t be able to travel as stealthily or as quickly as Peter and I.”
And she would never leave them behind like that… Nine’s mouth twisted into a frown. He was glad for that good nature of hers, but there was no getting through to her if she really believed their best chances of survival remained out here. He could only hope that intuition of hers proved true and that this wouldn’t be the last he and the other Stitchpunks would see of them…
Carefully opening the door and sealing it shut behind her, Sarah made a low whistle to call out to the dark room. As she set her pack and basket upon the floor, the others climbed down from their footholds and began to explore their surroundings. Two motioned Five, Six, and the twins over to where the figurines were lined along their shelves. Sarah cupped her hand near her shoulder to help Nine rejoin Seven where she waited at the former’s feet. For the most part, One remained where he was in a silently fuming pose, but when he believed no one was looking he glanced around the room with curious eyes—examining each window casting a faint light inside the otherwise dark space and every piece of dusty furniture that sat in disuse.
“Everyone, I’m home,” beckoned the girl in a voice just loud enough to carry down the hall. She squat down for a few seconds to collect a few chunks of fudge from the rations. “I got some sweets for you all.”
Though each of them heard hushed whispers and the shuffling of small feet from within one of the other rooms, a lingering sense of dread suddenly hung over Nine. The last time he had been here, her siblings had rushed to greet her at the door. Even if they were safe, he felt this was far from normal. He looked to Seven to see if she shared the feeling, but she could only return his silent questioning with a confused look of her own.
“Guys?” Sarah took a few steps farther within the room—her mask hissing as she removed it and placed it on a nearby table along with the desserts. By now, Two and the others had also caught on that something wasn’t right, and had fallen quiet as they watched the young human with a concerned gaze.
Before she could enter the hall, the two sisters revealed themselves, stepping out of the bedroom that they all shared. The smallest of the pair tried to offer up a welcoming smile to their older sister, but the expression only further revealed that their worries held weight.
Sarah blinked down at the two of them, her brows furrowing anxiously, before she strode past them to step into the bedroom doorway. Her eyes only went darker at the revelation that awaited her. Pushing herself from the wall, she bound once again for another room only to come to the same, horrifying conclusion. When the last room only bore her the same answer for the third time, she stomped back over to the other girls and grabbed them firmly by the arms. “Where’s Peter?” she demanded. Her voice was soft, but the fury broiling beneath it caused a shiver to go down Nine’s metallic spine.
Peggie and Rosie’s continued silence only confirmed her greatest fears. Her eyes went wide before narrowing with anger.
“That idiot!” she screamed, shoving herself away from the pair as she raced for the door. In her haste, she didn’t even reach for her mask. However, she did check where the others would normally be in their pile by the wall only to find one missing. “That idiot’s gone to the outpost! I know he has! I’ve warned him about this!”
“Sarah!” Nine called after her, but it was no use. Fear for her brother dominating all else, he could only chase after her with Seven and Five soon tailing him. He lunged for her foot, catching her by the bootlace, and secured himself tightly onto her shoe amid the strings. Seven jumped not a second after, her spear piercing the tail of her large overcoat. During the whirling chaos of movement, Nine took her by the hand and pulled her next to him—enveloping his arm around her waist to make certain she wouldn’t get flung off.
“It’s already dark outside!” the eldest child continued to vex in her panic. Throwing open the door with a loud bang, she raced to remove the sheets above her. “He should’ve at least been back by now! He should know that it’s almost—!”
A blinding light painted the landscape in its agonizing radiance, and she had to raise an arm before her face to shield herself from it. The Stitchpunks’ optics shrank to compensate, though even then they could barely make anything out. However, the booming racket of a creaking, metal foot stomping upon the earth testified only one cause for the bright light.
Sarah released a sharp gasp, diving back a step within the shadowed recesses of the partially hidden door as they stared at the colossal figure of a Steel Behemoth.
Curfew had begun.
“Those things should be extinct…” Seven whispered in a small, numb voice—her stunned gaze never leaving the machine that stood before them. Nine could almost see events from the war playing back in her optics, as clear as any projection the twins could’ve conjured. He felt her fingers dig within the fabric of his arm, and he returned the act by holding her tighter against him.
The delay gave the others time to catch up, but it was only Five that continued in pursuit. One chased after him, but only in attempts to prevent the younger Stitchpunk from heading out into the open. Two stopped before the doorway to bar the others from going any further. Nine managed to give the elder a nod of approval: He didn’t want Six or the twins risking their lives, and he was certain Two could keep them calm and look after them all.
Sarah continued to look on in mute terror at the machine before her, but a moment later her expression hardened. She clenched and unclenched her fists at her sides, watching, waiting… Nine knew exactly what she was planning, and that there was nothing he could do to stop her. Still, he found Seven struggling with a smile beside him as she began to see what she had refused to accept in the past forty-eight hours since meeting the child: That the two shared a sense of resilience in the face of horror that defied all sanity.
As the Behemoth began to move away, making its rounds elsewhere, Sarah made a mad dash for a pile of rubble—avoiding the spotlight by diving behind the machine. Five leapt for them in the nick of time, grabbling Seven’s outstretched weapon while at the same moment that One snagged him by the waist. As a result, both were flung upward to grapple the collar of the boot. The eldest Stitchpunk opened his mouth to scream at them, but held back his cries upon the realization that they had gone out into the open. From their new position among the debris, they could just make out the door of the shelter closing shut.
As if feeling their presence, the Behemoth’s light hovered toward their location. Getting down on all fours—the Stitchpunks taking the opportunity to race to the safety of her pockets—she laid down upon her stomach and shuffled beneath the rocks. The tail of her overcoat fluttered in the wind, like any of the forgotten remnants of the war—drawing only the shortest frame of attention from the mechanical giant before the light continued to glide over them. The group waited in agony for the machine’s steps to fade into the distance without so much as a breath passing between them.
Only when it had departed, the atmosphere surrounding them returning to bleak darkness, did One raise his voice. “Listen to me, girl!” he spat, the slits of his optics narrowing as his mouth curled into a sneer. “Whatever your intentions may be, forget them this instant! You’re to turn around, right now, and march us all straight back to your shelter. Is that clear?”
“No!” she quietly barked right back, glaring at him and batting her lashes rapidly to clear the dust flying into her eyes. “I’m not leaving my brother out here!”
Nine watched as the tension grew between them, and nearly moved to speak before Seven clasped a hand around his to halt his progress. Watch, she mouthed. He raised a stitched brow at her command, and then glanced over to Five. His friend’s head snapped back and forth between the child and their elder, his form rigid from the fear of seeing of the monsters of the war revived and hunting still. Yet despite this—as the exchange went on—a small, slightly amused smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth.
“You’re a fool if you think he’s still alive out there—in this storm and with those beasts lurking about!” One made a harsh wave in the direction the Steel Behemoth had gone. “You’re only going to get the lot of us—yourself included—killed!”
“I didn’t ask for any of you to hitch a ride!” she retorted. “I don’t care what you say: Dead or alive, I’m bringing my brother back with me! And if you don’t want to chase after him, well, I’m pretty sure you can walk the distance back to the shelter.” With that, she gave a curt nod back the way they came.
Sparks kept flying between them as they both glared at one another without saying one more word. The tension between them had grown so thick that it could’ve been cut with a knife, and it was clear that neither was willing to budge. As for himself, Nine wanted to help Sarah to the best of his abilities, even if it was just to act as an extra set of eyes, or be there for her should the worst be true. Seven… still likely had her reservations, and as for Five he was probably better off staying with Two and the others. He imagined it best if they both lead One back to the children’s’ underground sanctuary.
Seven’s barely contained snort, however, surprised him.
Twirling her staff in one hand, she beckoned everyone’s attention. “If this isn’t a story twice told, I don’t know what is,” she quipped, finishing the last spin with a wide flourish as the staff was brought to her side. Then, facing him, she added with a knowing grin, “You don’t have any intention of going back, so I won’t either.” She lightly punched him in the arm. “Someone’s gotta make sure you come back alive at least.”
“I-I’m going too!” announced Five with a brief stutter, tapping his hand over his chest as he tone turned sheepish. “I’ve got to return the favor, right? For helping all of us…” He tried to meet Sarah’s eyes, but dropped his head low to stare at the ground no sooner had he raised it to face her.
Mouth left slightly agape, One glanced across the trio of them as though he were staring into the face of madness. In the meantime, Sarah wrestled herself back out into the open—pausing once she could sit on her knees. She held her hand up to him, offering him what little aid she could give before she had to go. At the sight of this, he shot a wicked glare of disdain back up at her once more.
He said nothing, but shoved her hand away with both of his own before sinking deeper into her pocket with his arms folded across his chest.
