by Travis Brett
Tan sat up, stretching. He turned his head from side to side, neck cracking with the movement. “Ah, I remember.” He ran a hand across his face, gently prodding his bruises. “I don’t regret punching that asshole. Completely worth it.”
“He’s got Ruby.”
“Oh. Bloody hell.” Tan paused, looking around them. “How are we still alive?”
“Just be grateful we are.”
“Oh, I am the captain of gratefulness right now. I have so much to be thankful for.” He grimaced as he lifted his shirt and examined the mess of purple skin. “This is just the best week of my life. I need a drink to celebrate.”
“You can drink later. First, we need to find Caleb and the boy, then think of a new plan to capture Candle.”
Tan groaned. “You’re as stubborn as a . . . I don’t know, nothing else is as remotely stubborn as you are. How are we ever going to find—”
“And we’re bringing him to Gavin.”
“Huh?”
“If we give him Candle, he’ll release Ruby.”
“Oh.” Tan sighed. “Juliette’s going to be pissed if we bring Candle to Gavin, not her. Like, seriously fucking pissed.”
“To hell with Juliette.” Roman spat into the gutter. “We’re getting Ruby back. That’s final.”
“I agree, Boss. No way we could abandon Ruby. But . . . um . . . how the hell were you planning to capture Candle now?”
“Truth be told, I have no fucking idea.”
“So . . . desperate improvisation, then?”
Roman nodded. “Yeah. Something like that.”
PART THREE
Hostage
18
Ruby kept her eyes closed as the footsteps came closer. Her impulses screamed for her to get up and run, or to crawl into the corner, but either option would be pointless. The footsteps stopped just in front of her. She could feel Gavin looking down at her with his hideous eyes.
Just breathe, she told herself firmly. I can’t let myself show weakness. If I show it, then I’ll never stop feeling it. That was the first lesson Juliette had taught her.
“Tie her up,” Gavin said.
Resisting the urge to fight back or flinch, Ruby let a thug roll her onto her front and tie a rope around her wrists. He knotted it tight.
“You and Mark take her to the barracks,” Gavin said. “And don’t spoil her until after I’ve spoken with her.”
She was lifted by a pair of sweaty arms and carried outside. The rain felt good, like somehow it could wash away the sick violation she felt at this bastard touching her.
How could I let this happen? She cursed herself for the hundredth time since she’d woken up. Her memory was a blur. She remembered watching from the back of the crowd, furious, as Gavin beat up Roman. If she had her bow with her she would have put an arrow through Gavin’s thick skull right then.
But then the Adrenalites had attacked.
Ruby repressed a shudder at the memory. The first Adrenalite activated herself three yards in front of Ruby and had literally torn apart her first victim. The blood sprayed so far it nearly reached Ruby.
At least I got revenge. I killed that fucker.
But then what happened? She remembered the lights going out, and the screams, and the glow of a dozen Adrenalites activating themselves throughout the hall. She had raced down the bleachers, rushing towards Roman, and then . . . nothing. Her only clue was the painful, throbbing bruise on her temple.
She felt guilty. She was meant to be strong, but she had let herself get captured, somehow. Now she was helpless, unable to do anything but wait for Roman and the others to save her. Ruby hated feeling helpless. She hadn’t trained with the militia, or hunted Adrenalites with Roman, just so she could die a prisoner. No way. She was going to escape.
Yet, her hands were tied, she had no weapon, and she was alone. That didn’t leave many options.
“She’s a pretty one,” the thug carrying her said.
“Aye. Better than most of the girls we get around here,” the other said. What had Gavin said his name was? Mark?
The first man grunted in agreement. “I can see why Roman hired her.”
Roman. That idiot was probably already planning some suicidal attempt to get her back. She had seen the look in his eyes before he left; it was the same determined look he had when he announced he was going to be a bounty hunter.
Roman was a fool, but a damn stubborn and passionate fool, at least.
She heard a door opening, and a moment later she was out of the rain. She cracked one eye open to find herself in a large room. It was too dark to see the far walls, but the pillows on the floor implied this was where Gavin’s men slept. Another strong hint was the stench.
She was dropped ungraciously onto the ground. “Stay here,” the thug who had carried her told Mark. “I’m going to grab a bite.” His footsteps left the room.
Ruby’s stomach rumbled at the thought of food. She was starving. How long had it been since she had eaten? Too long.
It was time to see what she was up against — she opened her eyes. Mark leaned against the wall opposite her, a machete in his hand. He was thin and lanky, with a nose bent so far out of shape it was practically sideways.
Mark noticed her staring. He grinned. “Good morning, love.”
Ruby cringed. “Don’t call me that.”
“I’ll call you what I want.”
“Then I’ll bite your ear off.”
Mark pointed his machete at her. “And I’ll cut your tits off.”
Ruby bit back her response. Mark’s expression suggested it wasn’t a hollow threat.
They fell into silence, during which Mark just stared at her. It made her uncomfortable. She looked away, but there was nothing else to look at, so she rested her head on the nearest pillow and closed her eyes again. After what felt like forever, the other thug returned. Something landed on the ground next to her. She reopened her eyes to find a strip of dried meat. It tasted foul, but she was hungry, so she devoured the whole thing.
Ruby looked up, and what little confidence she had in escape plummeted. The second thug was a giant, twice Ruby’s size, with thick arms, a broad chest, and a heavy-set face that looked more animal than human. Ruby shrunk back at the sight of him.
“So she’s awake,” the thug said.
Ruby didn’t respond.
He stepped forward and crouched in front of her, leering. His breath reeked something horrid. “I ain’t had a woman like you in a while.”
Her skin crawled at the thought of him touching her. She couldn’t help struggling against the bonds holding her wrists, but they were bound tight.
The thug grabbed her face. She jerked back, squirming away from him. “Don’t touch me,” she spat.
“Who’s gonna stop me?”
Panic seized Ruby. This couldn’t happen. Not to her. She twisted away, trying desperately to get as far away as possible. But it was futile. The thug followed, his hand reaching for her.
“Cut it out, Higgs,” Mark said. “You heard what the boss said.”
With a grunt of annoyance, Higgs moved back to stand next to Mark, still leering at Ruby. Overwhelming relief flooded through her. She quickly hid her hands so the thugs couldn’t see them shaking.
There must be a way out of this, Ruby told herself, just think! There was no way she could overpower both of them, especially not with her hands tied. She had to make one of them leave. It would have to be Higgs.
The door flew open with a crash and Gavin entered. “Ah, the fair lady has awoken.”
Ruby glared at Gavin with all the defiance she could muster as he walked over to her, arms folded. He stopped when his boots were inches from her face.
Snarling, Ruby pushed herself into a sitting position and leaned against the wall. She lifted her arms to display the rope around her wrists. “You really know how to treat a lady,” she said, forcing her voice to stay calm. I won’t show weakness. Not to him.
Gavin laughed. “A lady? Is
that what you are?”
“You’ve never seen a girl before? I guess it’s hard for a man like you to get dates. Considering your face, and your body, and your . . . everything else.”
Gavin kicked her in the gut. She doubled over, clenching her teeth and refusing to make any sound. She had to let him know that pain wouldn’t get to her.
“Well, what the fuck do you want?” Ruby demanded.
“I want answers.”
“Maybe you should ask some questions then.”
“Why did you leave the ministry?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Call it morbid curiosity.”
Ruby shrugged. “It’s not a secret why I left.”
“Ah, yes. Everyone knows the story. Your brother got killed by a mutie, then you and Roman began your own personal vendetta against the Adrenalites.” Gavin chuckled. “That’s it, right? I think it’s bullshit.”
Ruby didn’t bother hiding her confusion. “Why would I lie?”
“You and I both know you’re a lying bitch. It’s part of who you are.” Gavin bent over, sticking his face close to hers. “I can believe that all Roman wants is revenge — he’s a simple-minded man like that. But you? You would need a real reason to leave the ministry.”
Ruby told him the truth. “Roman asked me to leave. So I did.”
“Because you love him?”
“Because he would have gotten his stupid arse killed without me.”
“Heartwarming. But again, I think that’s bullshit.”
“Why?”
“Because you left, and then Ashton Spencer left. And it’s not just you two. I know of a dozen Ministry workers who vanished after they got promoted to work personally with Juliette. She’s hiding something. Something that inspires disloyalty in some of her people. I want to know what it is, and how I can use it against her.”
Ruby screwed up her face in puzzlement. Where had Gavin got these ideas from? Aside from herself and Spencer, she had never heard of anyone leaving the Security Ministry. As far as jobs went, it was far better than anything else in Legacy.
“I’ve never even met Spencer,” Ruby said honestly.
“Lies!” Gavin shouted, backhanding Ruby across the cheek. “Tell me why you left!” He grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt. “Why Spencer left?”
Ruby’s mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood. She no longer had to hide her fear; her anger did that for her. How dare Gavin even touch her. “Were you too stupid to ask him yourself?” she retorted.
“Spencer was full of shit. Just like you.”
“What did he say?”
“You don’t understand how an interrogation works, do you? I ask the fucking questions. Why did you leave?”
“I fucking told you: Roman asked me to.”
Gavin punched Ruby in the side of her head. She fell flat on her face, ears ringing, vision blurry.
Gavin stood. “I’m a patient man,” he said as he walked to the door. “We’ll see if you have any more answers tomorrow. Until then, I’ll leave you in my men’s care. Don’t worry, they’re not gentle.”
Ruby made her decision. She sat up and called out: “Wait!”
Gavin looked back at her. “Oh, so now you’re keen to share?”
“No. I just wanted to give you fair warning: I’m going to kill you. And I’m am going to enjoy it.”
Gavin smiled, turning to the thugs. “Have fun boys.”
19
Sparks didn’t know where he was going. The only thing he really knew was that he was wet, cold, and hungry. Also, he hurt. Everywhere.
Shirtless, he had nothing to protect himself from the rain, so he stuck to what little shelter there was under the occasional balcony that hadn’t collapsed. The flashes of lightning he had watched with awe only an hour before were now just reminders of the freezing storm.
Every street looked exactly the same. How did people ever find their way around Legacy? Sparks climbed over the rubble of another fallen building, identical to the one he had just crossed a block before. He could be walking in circles and he wouldn’t even know.
Most unnerving of all was the emptiness.
He kept looking over his shoulder, expecting to find someone there. When was the last time he had been properly alone? He couldn’t remember. Over the past three months, he had followed Caleb everywhere, even sleeping in that same, cramped room. Before that, he was either in the Haven’s cells, with the other fighters, or in the fighting pit. It felt so wrong to have nobody around.
His stomach rumbled. The thought of food made his mouth water. Where the hell was he meant to get food? He didn’t have any money, or know where to find a pub — the Mutt’s Tail was on the other side of the city, or he thought it was, at least.
He reached into Caleb’s satchel and pulled out one of the two activation needles. His needles.
I don’t need to buy food. I’m a rogue. I can take what I want.
He stuck the needle into his chest and pushed down the plunger. Warmth flooded him. That was one problem solved, at least. His second heart beat a slow, relaxed pulse. It felt strange for it to be so calm. This was the first time he had been activated without having the additional adrenaline rush of a fight.
He chose a house that looked in the best condition — a two-storied place, rainwater overflowing from its roof — and kicked open the door. As soon as he stepped inside his foot sunk two feet into mushy dirt. Whatever flooring there had once been had rotted years ago. The place smelt of mold, but at least it was relatively dry. One by one, he checked the rooms on the bottom story. All empty. He didn’t trust the upper floor.
The next house was also abandoned. And the next three after that. Sparks’ stomach was beginning to ache almost as much as the rest of him when he noticed that a towering building down the road had steel bolts barring its door. Locks meant people, and people meant food.
Two thick padlocks held the bolts in place. Sparks grabbed the first bolt with both hands and pulled. The bar slowly bent, then broke off from the door. The next one tore the entire door with it.
Inside, the walls were peeling and cracked, but at least the floor was solid. He searched the first floor, finding nothing except for a pair of rats — bigger than dogs, their tails stretched at least four feet — in a back room. They scurried away from him, squealing. He thought about killing one for food, but decided he wasn’t that hungry. Yet.
Climbing the first set of stairs, he was overwhelmed with the stench of shit. He gagged, not daring to breathe. He heard the buzzing of flies — a whole swarm of them judging by the sound — and decided to skip that floor, as well as the next three. Anyone who lived near that smell deserved to be left alone.
On the fifth floor, he heard a deep, rumbling grunt, coming from further down the hallway. Stomach rumbling and mouth-watering, Sparks followed the noise to a large room where three men slept, huddled together. They didn’t have a blanket, and wore little more than rags. Sparks stepped past them. In the corner was a pile of bricks forming an absurdly tall table. It was high enough that Sparks had to stand on tiptoes to see what was on it. He wondered why, then remembered the rats downstairs. They looked big enough to climb anything shorter than this.
On top he found a half-eaten loaf of dark bread. Sparks eagerly grabbed it, shoving a hunk into his mouth. It was stale — nearly as hard as the bricks it rested on — but he quickly ate it anyway.
A rustling came from behind him.
He turned to find one of the men squinting at him, one hand raised to shield his eyes from Sparks’ light. He had a wild tangle of grey hair, and his skin was covered in burns. “What’s going on?” he mumbled, voice slurred. His eyes opened a little wider. Then he screamed.
“Calm down, you old geezer.” Sparks had to shout to be heard. “You got any more food?”
Still screaming, the man stood and ran out of the room. His two buddies woke up and scrambled to their feet. One look at Sparks and they both began to flee as well.
“Oh for fucks sake . . .” Sparks jumped forward and grabbed one of them by the shoulder, hurling him back into the room. The man flew into the wall, face first. Blood poured from his nose.
Whoops. Sparks hadn’t intended to use that much force. “I only want food,” he said, raising his hands in what he hoped was a peaceful gesture. “Do you have any more hidden somewhere?”
The man stared at him, eyes wide with terror. He had a pointy face that made Sparks wonder if he was related to the rodents downstairs. He tried to run past Sparks, arms flailing madly. Sparks grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and pinned him against the wall.
“Calm down!”
“Don’t kill me. Don’t kill me. Don’t kill me.” The man clenched his eyes shut, spittle spraying from his lips as he repeated those three words over and over.
“Why would I kill you?” Sparks gave him a violent shake, irritated. “Just look at yourself, you’re not worth fighting.”
“Don’t kill me. Don’t kill me.”
“I just want food.”
“Don’t kill me. Oh, please, don’t kill me.”
Sparks’ chest began to pound, fast, hard. He shoved a hand over the man’s mouth, ending his whimpering. “I’m not going to kill you!” he shouted. “Get that through your thick skull, alright?” He pulled his hand away.
“Don’t kill me. Don’t kill me.” The man’s eyes opened, staring at Sparks, terrified.
The same way that Roman looked at him.
“Don’t look at me like that! I’m not a fucking monster!” And suddenly it wasn’t a strange man standing in front of him, it was Roman. Sparks pulled the whining bastard forward, then slammed him back into the wall. The man shrieked and the wall fractured, chunks of plaster falling away. Sparks punched him, right in his hideous, pointed face. “I just want food!”
The man went limp, blood gushing out of his nose. Sparks let him fall to the ground, then kicked him in the gut. Anger burned within in, alive in the thrashing of his second heart. He pulled his leg back for another kick—
Then he realized the man wasn’t breathing.
