Souls Below - Rebellion

Chapter Eighteen.

Hours passed as I lay sprawled across the crates I’d managed to shuffle together into something resembling a bed. The City hummed beneath me—a low, constant vibration that seeped into my bones. I stared up at the flickering ceiling light, letting its static buzz fill the silence. My thoughts circled endlessly, wondering where was Krane.

I tried to focus on Jerard and Krane, the ones I’d actually hurt, but Calian kept slipping into the edges of my mind. I doubted I’d be able to check on him any time soon—if ever again.

I was lucky to be alive at all.

Bootsteps echoed in the hallway. The door creaked open, light flooding the room as Jerard’s massive frame filled the doorway. I sat up too quickly, pain stabbing through my arm, but I forced it down. Krane stood behind him, eyes lowered, expression unreadable.

Any apology I’d rehearsed in my head vanished the moment I saw Jerard’s face. My eyes burned, throat tightening.

“Jerard… ” My voice cracked. He didn’t say a word—just strode forward and pulled me into a hug that stole the breath from my lungs. His body trembled against mine. “I’m sorry,” I choked out, gripping the fabric of his coat. “You were right. About everything. I should’ve listened.”

“Shhh.” He eased me back onto the crates and crouched so we were eye to eye, his large hands steadying my shoulders. “Everyone makes mistakes, Mira. We’re all human.” His voice was low, gentle—like he was speaking to a frightened child. And maybe he was, I felt like one. “I’ve made plenty myself. But what defines us isn’t the fall—it’s what we do after.”

He let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry for what I said. You were never her replacement. It’s just... it felt like déjà vu. Selene was your age when she got sick.”

I wiped at my face with trembling fingers, trying to collect myself. “What’s déjà vu?” Krane chuckled from the hallway. Jerard gave a soft laugh in return, the tension cracking just a little.

“Your damn curiosity… ” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Curiosity killed the rat,” I replied, the phrase slipping out before I could stop it. Jerard blinked, his smile faltering slightly.

“Cat,” he corrected, holding up a hand as he saw another question forming. “Don’t ask.” He moved to inspect my injured arm, accepting a small medkit Krane handed over. As he cleaned and wrapped the wound, I explained the weapon the guard had used.

“It’s called a gun,” Jerard said, his voice colder now. “Lowers aren’t allowed to have them. The Uppers know it’s the one thing that could... ” he fell silent, not finishing his sentence while he continued his work. He glanced at the older wound on my forearm. I saw him register it—but, as always, he said nothing. He waited for me to talk when I was ready.

“I didn’t know your wife had a sister,” I spoke quietly. Jerard’s hands paused, just for a second. Krane’s head snapped toward me.

“I haven’t spoken to Meya since Klare disappeared,” Jerard admitted. “I felt... ashamed.” I studied his face, hoping he would go on. He rarely talked about his past.

“Why?”

“Because I couldn’t protect my family. My daughter, when she got sick. My wife when she was taken— I failed them both.” It explained so much. Why he took in strays. Why he became the shield for so many of us.

“Is that why you protected me?” My voice was barely a whisper. Jerard let out a small sigh.

“At first, maybe. I saw a scared, broken girl who needed someone strong. I thought protecting you would make up for everything I couldn’t do back then.” He tied off the bandage and looked up at me.

“But over time… you became more than that. I saw the way you fought, the way you kept going even when hope ran dry. You cried on my shoulder, screamed at my face, looked to me for strength. You didn’t just give me a second chance—you helped me heal. By being a missing piece I didn't realise I needed” Tears spilled freely now.

“You are my daughter, Amira. A gift given from God.’” The same phrase Calian had used. My brows knit, but Jerard only smiled. “Whether born into my blood or placed in my path—you are mine. And that won’t change, even... even if you decide one day you don’t want me anymore.”

His words broke something open inside me. Like the crushing weight of guilt and fear was finally allowed to fall away. I wrapped my arms around him as much as I could, letting the tears come, letting the safety of him hold me up. After a long, quiet moment, he pulled back, hands still resting gently on my shoulders.

“You’ll need to lay low,” he ordered. “Until I can convince the guards to forget about you, you can’t leave. No one knows this place exists—not anymore. It's one of the few secrets this City forgot.” Krane stepped into the room, his eyes finding mine.

“We’ll take turns bringing you food and water. I packed some of your clothes, a blanket, and a pillow.” He explained. Jerard set the bag down beside me. The truth hit me hard then: I couldn’t go home. Not for a while. Maybe not ever.

“What about work?” My voice was small, guilt clawing at my insides. “You shouldn’t all have to carry me.”

“I’ve already arranged for someone to cover for you,” Jerard said. “Strem knows someone about your size. It’s temporary—just until we figure out our next move. But we will be fine for a while.” He leaned closer, voice hardening. “You don’t leave this room without one of us. Understood?”

I nodded, glancing between him and Krane. Their faces were serious. I swallowed down the lump rising in my throat.

“Yes.” I squeaked.

“I’ll check the path is clear to leave,” Krane said. "I'll be back tomorrow." His gaze lingered on me for a heartbeat longer than necessary. Then he turned and walked out. I watched him go, my chest aching.

Jerard noticed.

“What’s wrong, pea?” I fiddled with my hands, cheeks warm.

“How did you know Klare liked you?” Jerard chuckled, his voice lightening.

“She didn’t. Not at first. She couldn’t stand me. But I pursued her—relentlessly. She captivated me. And she had a right swing that could drop a grown man.” He smiled at the memory. It reminded me of how Calian had spoken about the world beyond the City—wistful and sad all at once.

“So, you knew you liked her before she liked you?” Jerard nodded, studying me.

“Is this about Krane?” I didn’t answer, looking down instead, letting my hair fall between us to hide the flush in my cheeks.

“How did you two end up together, then?” I asked instead. His expression shifted. Something closed off behind his eyes. He cleared his throat, standing again.

“That’s… a story for another time. A long one.” He reached out, brushing a hand over my cheek. “I’ve been hiding from a lot of things, Mira. Using the excuse of protecting you to avoid my own pain. But you’re not a fragile object. You’re my daughter—and strong in ways I never was.” Krane reappeared in the doorway.

“Laneway’s clear. We have to go now if we want to avoid patrols.” Jerard gave me one last look, then turned to leave. Krane lingered.

“I really messed up, didn’t I?” I croaked. Krane’s face twisted somewhere between a grimace and a smile.

“You definitely scared the s**t out of us.” He reached into the bag, pulling out a small device. He handed it to me. “If you’re in trouble… or if you just need someone to talk to.” I took it with a nod, guilt a weight in my chest. And then he was gone, the door shutting with a soft click, sealing me in with my thoughts and the flickering light.

This was better than being executed—but it still sucked.

I lay back down on the crates and stared at the ceiling.

At least now I had time to mentally beat myself up. I sighed heavily, this would be a long couple of days.

~*~

By the Makers, I wish it had only been a couple of days.

Nine days. Nine claustrophobic, ration-fed, dust-covered days. Jerard, Krane, and even grumpy old Strem had stopped by at least once a day. They kept me updated on the situation with the guards—how they thought I was on the run because I knew something about an Upper. Not because I lacked an ID. That particular truth hadn’t clicked yet.

I acted relieved. Pretended I wasn’t choking on guilt every time they mentioned it. Because the real reason I was out that night? I had known about the Upper. I just hadn’t told anyone.

And I was still keeping it to myself.

Krane came by less than the others. When he did, he seemed… off. Quieter than usual. Distant. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Jerard had said something—maybe he assumed my questions about Klare and my feelings were about someone in particular. Maybe Krane thought I was keeping something from him. Which, technically, I was.

He was my best friend. My only friend. As far as he knew, I hadn’t met anyone else.

I knew I owed him an apology for shutting him out. But how could I explain the truth when it meant revealing Calian?

I was perched on top of the pipes just outside the safe room, fiddling with a latch in the ceiling that looked like it might lead somewhere—anywhere—else. Jerard had told me to stay inside, of course. But after nearly two weeks in that tiny room, I was going stir-crazy. Standing just outside still technically counted as “staying close,” right?

I was so focused on the latch I didn’t hear footsteps until a familiar voice cut through the silence like a stone skipping across still water.

“Having fun?”

I jolted in surprise, let out a sharp yelp, and slipped. My foot missed the pipe and I tumbled, arms flailing as the ground rushed up to meet me. There was a shout—his this time—before arms caught me mid-fall, the momentum sending us both crashing to the floor in a heap.

I landed half sprawled across Krane, the air knocked from my lungs. A groan escaped my lips. His laughter—light and unbothered—echoed through the narrow corridor.

“We had a bet,” he admitted between chuckles, “on how long it’d take before you started sneaking out of the room.” I pushed myself off him with a glare.

“You were betting on me?”

“Jerard has more faith in you than I expected.” Krane sat up, brushing dirt off his hands, still grinning like he’d caught me in some grand act of rebellion.

“Alright then,” I asked, suspicious, “how long did he think I’d last?”

“Seven days.”

My mouth fell open. “and you?" Krane gave a guilty shrug, the smirk still tugging at his lips. “I guessed... five.” I let my jaw drop further.

“Ab-so-lute, Traitor.”

“Hey!” He raised his hands, laughing now, “History repeats itself. You lasted five last time Jerard grounded you, remember?"

“I blame you. You’re a terrible influence.” I sniffed, trying to sound offended.

Krane gasped theatrically. “I’m wounded.” He helped me to my feet, then grabbed the bag he’d dropped. “Brought you some supplies. You’re welcome, by the way. I restock your rations, carry all your junk, and still get blamed for everything.”

I gave a dramatic groan. “This place is sucks! If I could just explore these tunnels, it wouldn’t be so bad.” He didn’t reply, just glanced at the pipes and then down the corridor. I followed his gaze, sensing what he didn’t say.

“Any sign the guards are backing off yet?” Krane’s jaw tensed for half a second, expression turning grim.

“Nope. If anything, they’re more persistent than usual. Jerard’s been trying to find out why.” He hesitated, then added, “It’s causing tension. People in the Makers sector are getting nervous. And Strem says the Mech sector’s about ready to riot with how long the guards have been hanging around.”

I perked up at that. “Could be what this City needs. The rebels might shake the Uppers down to our level.” Krane didn’t answer. I could feel the shift in his mood. We never saw eye-to-eye on the rebels, he thought they were reckless, dangerous, and full of half-wits who only wanted to blow something up. I saw something else—defiance, hope, a spark in this dim lit city.

“So,” I started, pushing past the silence, “what’s my punishment today? More gloating? Another lecture? Maybe a heartfelt monologue about how I’m a hopeless daydreamer doomed to sabotage my own life?” I threw my arms into a dramatic shrug, leaning back on my heels.

Krane didn't raise to the bait. He just pulled something out of his jacket and held it up.

The P.I.P card.

I blinked. Registering then the backpack slung over his shoulder was the same one I’d tossed over the pipes when the guards chased me. My backpack. I hadn’t seen it since.

“Wait— ” I stared at the card. “You found it?”

Krane gave me a sideways smile.

“Wanna go on an adventure?”