Illegal King

by Mason Dakota

  She pressed in closer and rested her head upon my chest. I could smell her intoxicating shampoo from the curls in her hair. More old memories of our happy times flashed through my mind with each beat of my heart, beautiful memories full of laughter now lost in the past. Things were different now.

  Maybe there really was no going back for us.

  The music came to a subtle close and our dance followed. One of the band members announced the time for toasts and cutting the cake had come. Everyone hustled over toward the happy couple as they prepared to cut the cake. Only Evelyn and I remained on the dance floor.

  “Will I be seeing you out there tonight?” she asked. Her expression begged me to say, “No.” But I didn’t. I lifted a hand and scraped it across the bottom of her chin.

  “Depends on how good you are, sweet cheeks,” I whispered with a wink. We both smiled. Neither grins were convincing enough to hide the hurt we both felt knowing we would be enemies again tonight. I couldn’t stand to see the agony behind her eyes anymore as I turned to take my place amongst those presenting a toast.

  I snatched a glass of champagne off a table as I moved to stand before the crowd facing toward Chamberlain and Alison. I was supposed to give the first toast as best man. I used to get nervous speaking before crowds and often got choked up and lost my breath, but after a couple of months in politics, I was good to go. Being trained by a little man who barely spoke English, I was surprised at the tricks I learned.

  “Hope comes to my mind when I look at the two we celebrate today. Some of you may think we are here just to celebrate the beautiful union of Chamberlain and Alison. That’s wrong. What we have here is the promise of hope. We are blessed to lay mortal eyes on such a miracle. Because if Chamberlain can get a girl like Alison, then there’s hope for any of us.” The crowd laughed and I waited for them to grow silent again. I let the silence stretch longer than might be comfortable until I thought everyone felt the tension change.

  “Hope is a funny thing. Even in the darkest parts of life, when everything seems to be going against you, and you cannot stand on your own two feet, there is always that grain of hope still whispering in the darkness. None of you need me to tell you that we do not live in a peaceful and pleasant world. Darkness surrounds us.”

  I pointed my finger at the happy couple and said, “But here’s your grain of hope! Even in the madness, love blossoms and is undefeated by what this world throws at it. I have known Chamberlain most of my life, and when I look at my friend and his bride I have hope for tomorrow. Things will end up okay. Because of them, I know that no matter how dark it gets there is always hope. Neither one of them is perfect, but together they represent something that is, something that makes this world a better place.”

  “So,” I said as I lifted my glass high in the air and watched everyone else do the same, “to Chamberlain and Alison.”

  “To Chamberlain and Alison!” the crowd shouted as we emptied our glasses. I looked back toward the happy couple to see Chamberlain smiling with pride and approval and Alison trying to hold back tears. It was a joyous moment that I’ll never forget.

  Forty

  I nearly froze to death as I waited on the rooftop outside the warehouse. Freezing rain and chilling winds beat down upon me. I had been outside for over an hour, sitting alone and waiting as I watched for any activity below. At first I didn’t mind the rain. It felt cleansing and refreshing. But now my clothes were soaked and I was beginning to fear hypothermia. Even still I waited.

  Our hunt resumed after the wedding. The happy couple left for their honeymoon, and Gabriel returned to his shelters and camps to check with his contacts about any sightings. Thomas and Michael, who worked rather well together, were tasked with observing and reporting on Sabol activity across the city. And Evelyn was out here somewhere hunting for me. It all meant I could finally be alone.

  I had gone to Lorre’s apartment to get an update on the search. All day Lorre and the rest of the Justicars, those few good former police officers fired after Alexandra took office, had spent the entire day scouring through the Tubes in search of Tempest Raven. Lorre was supposed to update me, but when I got to his apartment, I found a note in his handwriting on his kitchen counter. The note was addressed to Shaman. It instructed me to come to a warehouse—the same warehouse I had been staking out for over an hour, freezing my butt off in this rain.

  In the past hour of watching the warehouse not a single individual came or went. Strange. Even looking through the windows with my binoculars, I saw no light inside or evidence of people moving around. Very strange.

  Compelled by the cold and my growing impatience, I decided enough time had passed and I had best take a closer look. I rose from my position and climbed down the fire escape. My joints felt like ice cracking through my flesh as I force them to move and get blood pumping through me. I made it to ground level and rushed across the street to the warehouse door.

  The absence of street lights and the addition of a cloudy sky from the night’s rain made me invisible, but I didn’t abandon a careful and stealthy approach. Someone could be out there watching my approach. I made it to the front door and hesitated. The hair on the back on my neck rose and a shiver ran down my spine. Compelled by pure instinct, I spun around into a tight crouch.

  The first bullet struck the door right where my head had been. The second was a few millimeters away.

  My assailant ran toward me from across the street, firing a silenced pistol as he moved. He was dressed in dark clothing with a black raincoat over his shoulders. He was as dark as night and wore a Roman gladius at his side.

  Tempest Raven!

  I heaved my shoulder against the door and barged inside the warehouse as two more bullets struck the door centimeters from my neck. I slipped inside, kicked the door shut behind me, and slid the locking bolt into place. I knew it wouldn’t stop Raven, but it would slow him down. He poured more rounds into the door that sliced through and flew past me just as I dove for the ground.

  He’s firing armor piercing rounds!

  I rolled away from the door and scrambled further into the room. I noticed two things right away about the warehouse room. The first was the layout. The warehouse used to be some old industrial storage building, filled with large crates and machinery that provided countless hiding places. There were a few broken and lifeless lifts, tractors, and conveyor belts that curled about the room. Large machines meant for who knows what were scattered about the area.

  I smelled iron and assumed the metallic odor resonated from all the machinery. That assumption changed when I stepped in blood. A lot of blood. Blood from bodies that lay on the warehouse floor.

  They were all Nobles.

  They were all Justicars.

  And Lenny was dead and crucified to a machine in the center of all the bodies.

  I’ve walked into a trap!

  Horror froze me. I was locked in a warehouse filled with dead bodies—bodies stabbed, beaten, and shot. Every single one of them except for Lenny was a Justicar, the only honest and true law enforcement in Chicago. They were dead because I had told them to hunt Raven and this is how he retaliated.

  And now he’s coming for me.

  I sprinted to the nearest cover. I moved behind a tractor, drew my gun in my shaking hand, and aimed it at the front door. My hands violently rattled and I struggled to breathe quietly.

  They’re dead! They’re all dead! And I’m next!

  Glass shattered somewhere deep behind me in the warehouse.

  Tempest Raven has now entered the building.

  I spun around and moved to new cover. I kept my revolver in my right hand, my bo staff in its retracted rod size in my left. Ever so slowly I moved from cover to cover. With each step, instinct and training took control, suppressing my panic enough for me to focus.

  Tempest Raven was one of the world’s most dangerous assassins. I was not. Tempest Raven could kill without mercy and without hesitation. I could not. Tempest Raven likely was in hi
s element, hunting his prey in the dark. I was that prey. Every advantage rested with him. But I had one element in my favor.

  My big mouth.

  “I can’t say this is how I wanted us to meet!” I shouted into the air. No reply came. I moved to a different cover, scanned my surroundings, and tried again. “Did you kill these men and women?” Once more no reply. So I repeated the process: move, scan, and shout.

  “These were good people! They defended the helpless in the city!” No reply. I repeated my routine.

  “Is Jeremiah Lorre among them?”

  No answer. I wasn’t getting under his skin. He was too professional. “Answer me! Did you kill Jeremiah Lorre? Is he dead?”

  “No.” His voice was a deep bass, reverberating across the room while still sounding like a whisper.

  “Where is he?” No answer. Same routine. “You know I cannot accept what you have done! You will be brought to justice for killing these people!”

  “They were Nobles. And you are an Outcast. They would have betrayed you when the time came. Would that have been justice?” Every sentence he sent out in the dark came from a different direction around me. It was maddening and forced me to flee to another hiding spot. I could not locate him. I panicked.

  “Are you suggesting you murdered them to protect me?” Again no answer. “That gives no permission for what you have done! Their blood will forever rest upon your hands!” I shouted.

  “And yours, too. You told them to come after me. You have betrayed your own kind…and forced my hand.” His words sounded both remote and suffocating at once. His words felt like knife pricks across my heart. They were true. The dead men and women around me would be alive if it were not for me.

  “Is that why you plan to commit genocide?”

  No reply.

  “I know you’re new in town, but snooping is sort of my thing. When people start turning up dead it rather upsets me,” I shouted back. I slid under a conveyor belt and moved farther into the room. Still saw no sign of Raven.

  “We do what’s best for our people. My cause is just.”

  “I know who you are. Your name is Tempest Raven, a former Nebula agent who now works for one of the warlords of the Northern Territories and leader of the Outcast Rebellion, Richard Nightlock. I know you are also one of the world’s deadliest assassins and on the run from your former employers. Does Ziavir hunt you now after your betrayal?”

  “Ziavir was my master. He trained me. And I will kill him.”

  Gulp.

  “I want him dead, too, but genocide isn’t right.” No reply. I continued, “I recognize that sword! You were once a slave who won your freedom in the Emperor’s Gladiatorial Arena by combat. Is that also why you plan to do this—why you killed these people—to get back at Adam Rythe? Is that your goal?”

  “This is your one chance. Join us…or share the fate of the people whose blood is under your feet.”

  I couldn’t help it. I glanced down at my boots. They were covered in blood. I swallowed and said, “Well…you know…years ago I would have taken you up on that offer, but I’ve changed. It’s my job now to protect everyone in this city from people like you. You see, I cannot allow this to happen.”

  Silence. And then, “Then I’m sorry…you’ll have to die.”

  I squeezed my bo staff tightly in my left hand and shouted furiously, “Then come and try your luck!”

  The only sound was my own breathing and time seemed to stretch for an eternity. I almost believed that he had bailed until I heard the melodious jingle of a chain. I spun around just in time to see him swinging through the air on that chain. I didn’t have time to react before he planted both feet on my chest.

  What a cheater!

  Instantly my body lifted off the ground, flipping through the air, and smashing into some machine. Its knobs crushed into my kidneys. I gasped and choked in pain. Raven practically landed on top of me. With one hand he struck away my gun and with his other he drew his gladius upward to ram the hilt into my lip. The blow sent sparks flying across my vision and filled my mouth with blood.

  I threw a knee into his gut followed by my boot into his chest. The knee jab didn’t faze him, but the kick forced him backward and away from me. I scrambled to my feet as he came in stabbing his sword. I clicked my bo staff into its full length and swung it once, halting his advance. He was too quick. He gave a perfectly fainted swing of his sword, which I fell for, and paid for it as he drove his elbow into my rib cage. I keeled over in pain.

  With that last move, Raven exposed his back to me. Before he could spin back around I punched him in the kidneys. It isn’t easy to stand your ground from a blow there, even one as weak as the punch I threw, and he reeled back in pain.

  Moving in spite of burning lungs, I wrapped his head in a headlock and threw his head straight back into the machine behind me. That would have knocked an average man unconscious, but Tempest Raven proved to be a class above the average thug.

  He snapped free of my grip and spun back around to face me. I swung at him again, with my fist and he took the blow across his cheek in order to knock the bo staff out of my hand. Before I could even blink, Raven hit me twice precisely in my damaged rib cage with the pommel of his gladius. The air escaped my lungs and my chest twisted in pain.

  Raven grabbed my forehead with his off hand and rammed my head backward into the machine. Lights flashed through my skull and nauseating pain filled my mouth. I was so caught up in the pain that I couldn’t stop him from grabbing me by the shirt collar and slinging me across the room.

  I hit the floor and slid several feet as my face scraped concrete. I wanted to rest on that cool stone floor forever. I tried to move, but my body wouldn’t listen. Raven had deliberately focused his strikes to weaken my ability to breath and get oxygen to my muscles. He was methodical and I was hopeless. I fought with everything in me to push myself up onto my hands and knees. That was as far as I got before Raven kicked me in the ribs and flipped me over onto my back. I groaned and gasped for air as I watched Raven sheath his gladius.

  He’s not finished yet.

  With big strong hands he reached down and picked me up by the front of my shirt and slung me against a conveyor belt. Another gasp of pain escaped my lips. His hands of steel fell across my throat and he yanked me up onto the belt. I felt the last threads of strength unraveling and I knew I couldn’t take much more of his beating. I tried to raise my hands to fight back and defend myself, but Raven swatted my attempts away like flies. He grabbed my face with his big hands and repeatedly smashed the back of my head against the conveyor belt.

  My strength gone, I couldn’t defend myself anymore. He slid me along the conveyor belt till everything from my shoulders up hung off the side of the belt. He roared and suddenly a fist with this force of a sledgehammer struck my face. I remember being pulled down by the force, flipping over the conveyor belt and hitting the concrete floor, splashing in a puddle of blood, and blacking out from the pain.

  I should have stayed home tonight!

  Forty-One

  Gradually my eye lids flickered open. I tasted blood in my mouth and felt it on the back of my head. My breathing was raspy and labored. Each breath sliced through layers of cloth and I realized that I still wore my mask.

  With what took every muscle in my body, I opened wide one eye and then another, feeling the dried blood on my forehead crackle beneath my mask. I groaned in discomfort as my vision blurred and swirled.

  A horrible throbbing settled at the back of my skull. My ears rang. I fought with all my strength to push through, as though I were swimming to the surface from the bottom a deep pool of mud.

  I was tied to a chair. Dark brick walls surrounded me, but I felt a chilling breeze smelling of fresh rain mixed with the foul stench of the Stinks. Heat emanated from small flames flickering within a large metal barrel that sat before me. The surrounding darkness looked even bleaker and more indistinguishable past the fire’s radius. An army could have stood just a few
feet into the dark and I would not have known.

  Two men stood in the fire’s light.

  One was Tempest Raven. He stood across from me by the bonfire and warmed his hands. A small bandage with dried blood covered over his right eyebrow, the result of my one good blow in our fight. I could only imagine how I must have looked by comparison. For the first time, I took stock of Raven. He had the black branded tattoo wrapped around his neck, marking him as a slave. He was ripped in muscle, scars and tattoos. Excessive tattoos attempt to cover up the wounds someone would have growing up in slavery.

  I saw the second figure clearly once Raven moved away from the bonfire. He, too, was strapped to a chair, except he sat there with his head hung so low that I couldn’t see his face and identify him. His chest rose and sank slowly and only by gradual degrees. He breathed as though he was forcing air into his lungs. Dried blood and bruises covered him.

  Something about him terrified me.

  I turned my attention back to Raven. I watched as he brushed a hand through his short Mohawk and winced as his hand bumped his swollen forehead.

  “Awe, did I hurt you?” I said sarcastically, coughing between phrases. I wasn’t that funny when strapped to a chair with my body screaming in pain from probably the most painful beating in my life.

  Raven snarled.

  “You know…I would have won if you hadn’t cheated.” I said.

  Raven scoffed but said nothing.

  “Why am I still alive? You had every opportunity to kill me.”

  Still nothing, but he did look away from the fire long enough to glance at something only he could see in the darkness.

  There’s someone else out there.

  “Is this the part where you torture me for information?”

  Once again silence.

  “If you are going to do that, why not remove my mask?”

  More silence.

  “Who is that man over there?”

  Still nothing.

  “Answer me! Is this all some sort of game?”