The Damned (Their Champion Companion Novel Book 3)

by K. A Knight

  “That was fucking terrifying,” Evan snarls. “Now can we get the fuck out of here?”

  Just then, more laughter sounds, and we move forward slightly to see past the bodies. There are two tunnels. One is moving, and I realise men are crawling along the fucking floor, coming from cracks and other smaller tunnels.

  Nope, fuck this.

  Not today, God, Satan, or any other fucker who thinks this funny.

  “We are out of here!” I yell.

  There is no fucking way we are staying down here. It’s like a goddamn nightmare. They can attack us in the sun where I can see the creepy fuckers and they can’t crawl along the floor like some fucked-up worm.

  We start backing away, firing into the mass as we go. “Fucking hell!” Jago barks.

  I have to reload, and he yanks me back. I narrowly avoid one of them leaping out of a hole in a wall somewhere. Fuck!

  “They are coming out of the fucking walls!” Archel yells, using his knives to hold them back.

  “Behind us!” Clay shouts, and I see him turning to protect our backs as we move. I wish we could toss one of his bombs, but with us down here too, we would be trapping ourselves in a fucking mine with these…these creatures.

  Instead, we just have to fight and slowly move backwards, falling over rocks in the dark as the flare starts to die. Jago is before me, swinging his axe and holding them back as much as he can. When they slip through, they leap at me, and I shoot them down mid-air. The sounds they make burrow into my head, and I know I’m going to have fucking nightmares about the creepy bastards.

  “Pip!” Evan yells, and I turn, but I’m too late.

  One of them scurries out of a tunnel opposite my head and leaps at me. I fall back, smacking into the wall. A sharp rock hits my head hard.

  I fall with him on top of me. I am unable to move, feeling hot blood leak down my neck. Jago is suddenly there with a snarl, and with a fierce yell, he uses his axe like a battering ram, throwing the creepy fucker off me. Evan is beside me in an instant as my head lolls to the side. My fingers are cold and numb, and I release my crossbow. My vision blurs until I see two of everything, two of Jago still fighting the surge, even as they push him back. My ears ring, the high-pitched noise mixing with the sound of their panicked screams and Evan’s directives.

  “Fuck, we have to move!” Archel yells. “Princess!”

  “We can’t move her!” Evan screams back.

  “We have to!” Jago roars, and then I’m carefully picked up and cradled in Clay’s arms. My head rests on his shoulder, and I watch as we move swiftly towards the exit. I see Evan grabbing my stuff and firing to help Jago as he backs towards us. It causes a separation, and they surround Jago, cutting us and Evan off from him.

  There are too many of them. He gets brought to his knees, but he quickly gets up. He looks back as we break into the sun to see we are free, then his eyes narrow as he rushes towards Evan.

  “Love you, Brawler,” he yells, and then grabs Evan, throwing him out of the cave and rushing into the horde, holding them back while we escape.

  I want to scream. I want to fight and go back. But I can’t move, and darkness claws at my vision. The pain in my head is indescribable, until I finally succumb with his name on my lips.

  Jago.

  When I blink, I’m on the front of a bike with arms holding me up as we gun it, and the world is dark around us. I realise someone’s racing heart is pressed to my head, and then I pass out again. When I blink once more, I can tell time has passed, but not how much. My head aches, blood still drips from it, and my body is sluggish and cold. I am still unable to move. I hear yelling and arguing, and then a bright light shines in my eyes, sending agony through me. When I can blink enough to clear my eyes, I see the shape of someone walking towards us through those lights, but I promptly pass out.

  When I wake again, I’m in someone’s arms, swaying with the movement of walking. It makes bile rise in my throat, tangling with the pain pumping through me. My head is propped up and facing forward. There’s a man before us—a stranger.

  He has curly, shoulder-length grey hair. When he looks back, I see a grey beard and piercing eyes with glasses propped on his big red nose. He looks me over before returning his focus to the path we are on. Trees pass on either side of us as we seem to head up, but my head is spinning, so who knows.

  I try to speak, to demand we go back, to ask for Jago, but my lips refuse to move.

  I blink, and suddenly, we break through the trees, and I see a house standing on the edge of a cliff as the sun starts to rise behind it. I pass out again. Panic for Jago is still at the forefront of my mind, even as I fade into oblivion.

  I’m warm, cosy almost, like I’m lying on a cloud. I’m comfortable, warm, and not wanting to move. It calls me back into the darkness, lulling me to forget my worries and just sleep, but something bugs me.

  It pulls me back, wanting me to wake up.

  To get up.

  What is it? It’s like sand falling through my parted fingers—the harder I try to clench my fist, the more it escapes until I slip back into unconsciousness. When I wake again, my body aches, but the pain isn’t as bad as before. My heart screams at me to get up, to wake up.

  But why?

  I hear voices then, but they seem far away, yet for some reason, they settle me. I can’t understand the words, but the tone has me fighting through the fog. Something is wrong.

  But what?

  Then it comes crashing down on me like a ton of bricks.

  Jago!

  I pry my eyes open. I’m still unable to move, like I’m trapped, as I move my eyes around desperately to see him or anyone. The room is dimly lit, and I’m in a bed in a random bedroom with exposed wood beams above me. There’s a closed door at the end of the bed, and the noises are coming from behind it.

  I try to open my lips, but nothing comes out. I try harder, and a trapped groan sounds from my throat. Jago! I scream internally as I struggle to lift my hand, my legs, anything. I keep trying to, and my head starts pounding again, but I manage to roll.

  Only, I roll right off the bed, smacking into the cold wood floor. The voices stop and footsteps sound. I search for a weapon, and a moment later, the door opens with squeak to reveal Archel with Evan behind him. Their gazes are panicked, and when they see me on the floor, they rush in.

  “Princess, what the hell? Are you okay?”

  “Pip, what happened?”

  “Jago,” I croak past my aching throat.

  They share a look as they crouch before me and lift me back into the bed. “You need to rest. You have what I’m guessing is a fractured skull and a concussion,” Evan starts, but I narrow my eyes.

  “Jago—” I cough, and he helps me sit up and sip some water. Archel sits on my other side as a stranger, a man, appears in the doorway. He has white hair, he’s the one I saw when I was passing out.

  “Good, you’re awake,” he remarks, his voice low and slow.

  “Who are you?” I demand once I can and then look at Evan. “Where’s Jago?” Evvie’s eyes drop to the bed as his lips turn down. I look at Archel, who scrubs at his head before sighing.

  “Princess…” He trails off.

  “Where is he, and where’s Clay?”

  “Jago…Jago got trapped in there with them. He stayed so we could get you out. Clay is scouting the area now, trying to look for signs of him.”

  “You left him there?” I roar, jerking up, ignoring the pain it causes. “You left him?”

  His eyes narrow. “It was that, or we all died, Princess, including you. He knew that, he gave us the signal. You always come first. We protect you, even if we die. Jago knew this, it was always his plan.”

  “He’s not dead, he can’t be,” I whisper, and he sighs, his expression softening as he takes my hand and squeezes.

  “If anyone can survive, it’s Jago. Plus, why would they kill him right away? They would need information. It’s only been around eight hours, so there’s still
a chance we can get him back. We didn’t want to leave you while you were still unconscious though.”

  “Go, I’m awake, go get him!” I demand. “In fact, I’m coming.” I move to the edge of the bed, but they stop me.

  “You can’t stand, Pip,” Evvie snaps, in doctor mode now.

  “He’s right—you’ll only be hurting yourself further. Those fools from the mine wouldn’t have killed your friend yet, they like to enjoy taunting them first,” the stranger informs me.

  “That doesn’t fucking help,” I mutter and throw him a glare. “Who are you?”

  “Manners, young one, this is my house, after all,” he warns.

  “This is Abel, he saved us, Princess. We didn’t know where to go. We needed shelter and safety to lay you down and check you over. You were bleeding so badly. We drove around for hours until he found us. He lit the way and led us to his house here. He gave us supplies and shelter. Abel saved your life,” Archel offers softly.

  I swallow and look at the man, Able, who still appears grumpy. “I apologise, that was rude. Thank you for your home and assistance, but we really have to go now and retrieve Jago—”

  “It’s midday. They sleep now with only select scouts going out. As I told your friend, you ran into one of those scouts. They usually take you back to the mine for entertainment.” He winces. “And then toss you into the sea out back when they are done. Your best bet is getting one of those scouts for information. Your friend, Clay, is doing that with my assistance right now. I implore you to wait instead of running in there with no plan again. I understand this may be hard—”

  “Hard? You know nothing, old man,” I snarl rudely, my worry and anger coming out full force on this stranger. “And why are you living up here alone? Why not kill them if you see what they are doing?”

  “One man against a mine full of feral men? I may be good, but I’m not that good,” he snaps. “I’ve been here all my life. I was born here, and I will die here. You want to get yourself killed trying to save the world? Then be my guest, but do not ever disrespect me in my own walls again.” He turns and storms away.

  “Little harsh, Pip,” Evvie chides.

  “Fuck harsh,” I mutter, staring at the floor and wiggling my toes where they hang above it. My head is killing me. “He saw them killing people and did nothing.”

  “Not everyone is a fighter, Princess. Some people are just trying to survive,” Archel reminds me, kissing my shoulder. “We will get him back.”

  “We better, and then we are having a fucking word about this stupid save Piper rule, even if it’s with all of you tied down while I yell at you.”

  “Sounds kinky, I’m in,” Evvie teases. “Now let’s get you lying down. He’s right—you need to rest. If you want to save Jago, you need to save your energy and heal while we wait for information.”

  I can’t argue with that logic, so I let them help me back into bed. They go to leave, but I grab Evan’s hand. “Stay with me?” I look to Archel then and the door. “Both of you, please?”

  “Anything you say, Princess.” Archel bows, and instead of sitting in a chair this time like he did when I was first healing in a strange bed, he climbs over me and lies on my other side. Evan slips in next to me, and together, they hold me and help me fall back to sleep.

  Jago’s face in my mind.

  His name across my broken, worried heart.

  When I wake up again, Clay is not still back, but they don’t seem concerned, so I settle down. They give me some food Abel dropped off and then check me over, washing me before they fall back to sleep next to me. But I can’t, I’m awake and worried for my beast.

  I slip from the bed on wobbly feet. I’m still in my jeans, but my jacket is gone, and my top is stained and stuck to me. My hair is matted and plaited to the side, and the back of my head is sore when I touch it, so I drop my hand and open the door.

  “Princess,” Archel murmurs, never truly sleeping.

  “I need to pee,” is all I say as I slip out and into a narrow hallway. There’s a bathroom to the side, which I quickly use. There’s a lamp burning, exposing the old-style mirror and claw foot tub. Using a bucket of water, I splash my face and my neck before leaving again. My eyes go to the bedroom door I was staying in and then focus farther into the house where I hear noises.

  Wondering if it’s Clay, I pad down a hallway to a black, winding spiral staircase. Taking them slowly, I get halfway down and have to stop, my head hurting something fierce again.

  “You should be resting,” Abel calls, and I open my eyes and lean over the edge. The steps go right into an old-fashioned country kitchen with a wood burning stove, copper sink, and dark wood cupboards. A huge, handmade table is placed across the room, facing a window that looks out onto the cliff. It has eight chairs and benches, and it’s where I find Abel sitting with a teacup and saucer with a teapot before him.

  “Can’t sleep,” I murmur as I head the rest of the way down and freeze at the bottom, meeting his eyes. “Is Clay back yet?”

  “No,” he answers, and I sigh, looking around. “Is your head hurting?”

  I meet his eyes and find myself nodding. He seems less…angry, and I realise it was probably my fault. We disturbed his life, after all, and then I was rude to him. I’m betting he is used to being alone. “Yes.”

  “Come sit down.” He gestures and pulls out a chair for me. I take it, and he pushes it back in.

  “Thank you,” I murmur, but I watch him closely as he moves around opening cupboards. There is some bread on the table with a knife for carving, and I quickly grab it and slip it under the table and onto my lap just in case. I know better, you can’t trust anyone.

  He comes back a moment later with a black clay mug with herbs inside and pours the water from the teapot into it before placing in front of me. “It’s a mix of herbs grown from my garden, a herbal painkiller. Try it, it will help.” He sits back down, cupping his own, and his gaze goes to the window.

  I look from him to the dark mixture and slowly take a sip with shaking hands. I almost gag, and he chuckles.

  “Not the nicest tasting, but it does the trick. Down the hatch, young one,” he orders. I keep sipping, and he’s right—the pain starts to fade slightly and my body begins to ache less. I finish it off and wipe my mouth.

  “Are you hungry? There is bread—” He looks at it and notices the knife is gone and then stares at me. I refuse to be ashamed as he searches my face. “I mean you no harm. In fact, I worry you will hurt me. I have no quarrel with you.”

  “I don’t with you, but I’ve been tricked in the past, badly. Excuse me if I’m more cautious.” I shrug.

  “Understandable, as long as you don’t use that knife on me.”

  “I won’t if there is no reason to,” I counter, and he nods. We have an understanding. He looks back to the window as I run my eyes around the homely, slightly askew house. It screams old, but it’s also cosy and warm. No wonder he’s never left if he was born here. It’s all he knows.

  “You were born here? Before the end?” I ask as he sips his tea.

  “I was. It feels like so long ago now. My mother raised me, we were farmers. When the end came, most of the farm was washed away, but the house survived…as did we. My mother died a few years later from a simple infection, and I was alone.”

  “Why not try to find others?”

  “I did once or twice. Every time I went south and left the house, I found what this world had turned into. So much death. People killing everyone for scraps of food, for clothing or fun. It was feral—no, I was better here. So I came back and never left.”

  I nod. I can understand that. He’s right—out there it’s…a different world than in here. Here it seems almost separate from it, serene. Calm. “What about food and water?”

  “I have a well. It only has slight signs of radiation like most of the water now. For food, I have gardens where I grow my own veg, and I still have a supply from when I went out a year or so ago and scouted.” He look
s to me then. “What about you? You’re a fighter, that’s for sure, but why are you here? Up north? How have you survived?”

  “We are part of a collection of people surviving farther south but still in the north. We are rebuilding society as best as we can. We have a queen who was voted in with a council, and we are the enforcers of the new laws. We heard about the disturbances up here, and the queen asked if I would come and deal with it with my men,” I murmur.

  He blinks and sits back. “Well shit,” he mutters. “A queen? A society? Maybe we aren’t doing as bad as we once were. Good for you. But you should have left the north to itself. Those men aren’t like freethinkers where you are from. You can’t reason with them, they just want to kill and destroy.”

  “Then I’ll destroy them.” I shrug. “It’s my job to keep our land and our people safe, and they are a threat.”

  “You really mean that,” he murmurs. “You’d risk your life for everyone else. Why?”

  “Because I can.” I lean forward. “I’ve been hurt, betrayed, and left for dead. I know how weak it makes you, and how much I wished someone was there to save me. I won’t let that happen to anyone else. I’ll save as many as I can for as long as I can.”

  “Admirable.” He nods. “But probably a short life.”

  “But a meaningful one,” I retort, and he grins.

  “Touché.”

  He pours me a normal tea this time, and we sit in silence as we drink it.

  “So you’ve really been alone all the years?” I ask quickly.

  “Not always. There was someone else once.” He sighs. “But that’s a story for a different time, not during the night where we call up ghosts of loved ones past.”

  Just then, we hear a bike. “That will be your man. Let’s go see what he has to say.”

  “Thank you for telling me…and for the tea,” I tell him as I stand, feeling stronger.

  “You are welcome.”

  “Piper,” I offer. “My name is Piper.”

  “You are very welcome, Piper.”