The Ruins Box Set

by T. W. Piperbrook

  “Why would you do that?” Kirby demanded, unable to believe the depth of the betrayal.

  Esmeralda’s tears grew worse, as she watched Kirby with a guilty expression. “I told him you snuck out with Bray so that I might buy more time with Fiona. I haven’t been going to work, Kirby. That is why you haven’t seen much of me. I’ve been hiding.” Esmeralda looked as if she was waiting for the fist to strike her face. Holding up an apologetic hand, she said, “I did it for my own, selfish reasons. I’m sorry.”

  Kirby’s eyes blazed with anger as she recalled the strange conversations she and Esmeralda had in the past few days. She remembered the suddenness of their capture, when they’d been on the way to Ashville. It made sense now. The pain they’d endured that night—and the torment Bray still received—overtook any sympathy she felt for Esmeralda.

  “You did this to us,” Kirby said, venom lacing her words.

  “I’m sorry.” Esmeralda didn’t argue, or excuse her actions. “I saw you sneaking out a few times, meeting him in the dark, in the flooded house. Like I told you, I notice things when I am home. I figured it was something I could use. When I watched you and Bray in the courtyard, I saw the result of my words. It was an awful, selfish thing.”

  Kirby tried for more anger, as she looked into Esmeralda’s despondent eyes, and at the child in her lap, but she couldn’t find any. What could she do? Hit the woman? Unleash her anger, and lure in the guards?

  Perhaps Esmeralda knew that.

  Kirby had seen slaves give each other up for as little as a meal, in her homeland. They were products of their conditions. They lived on empty stomachs, fearing the repercussive beatings of the guards. They did whatever kept them fed, and their families protected.

  That didn’t excuse Esmeralda’s actions, but looking at Fiona, Kirby understood them.

  She didn’t want to, but she understood them.

  Esmeralda clutched Fiona, blotting away more tears. She shook her head, as if she might erase the damage of what she’d done. Surprised at where her legs took her, Kirby crossed the room and sat on the bedroll next to Esmeralda.

  “What can I do to make it up to you?” Esmeralda asked her.

  “You can tell me what else you told Ollie,” Kirby said.

  “I told him you were sneaking off,” Esmeralda replied, “that is all I said.”

  Kirby watched her, gauging the sincerity of that response. For all she knew, she might be dragged off before she lived another day. But it seemed as if Esmeralda told the truth.

  “I’m sorry,” Esmeralda said. She had nothing else to give.

  “I forgive you,” Kirby said, and she did.

  Hopefully soon, Esmeralda’s betrayal wouldn’t matter. The Shadow People would tear down the system that trapped them in lives of betrayal, hunger, and pain.

  In a few days, the guards and The Gifted would pay.

  Chapter 56: Bray

  Warm sunlight stung Bray’s eyes as he made his way across the courtyard, two guards at his side.

  “You stink,” said one of the guards, holding his nose, as he laughed along with his comrade.

  The second guard prodded Bray as he walked through the bright light he wasn’t used to seeing.

  A few children near the edges of the courtyard ceased their play, as they saw something more interesting than rocks to clap together, or sticks to toss. A few women peered around their hung laundry. Through doorways, Bray saw people breaking from their hearths to watch him. He let the guards lead him as they brought him toward the house he’d thought he’d never see again.

  “Make sure you clean up, so you don’t bring that stench to the fields with you,” said the first guard. “I don’t think your buddies will like it.”

  Despite their words, the guards’ taunts were half-hearted. Bray was a plaything they had expended.

  Stretching his sore, stiff limbs, he walked the last steps to his open doorway. He looked over at the guards, waiting for an order.

  “Make sure you’re in the Shucking Room after lunch,” a guard said.

  Bray nodded as he turned.

  An unexpected kick to his back sent him forward.

  Bray stumbled, catching himself before he fell through the threshold. And then the guards were gone. Teddy stood inside, waiting. He looked at Bray as if he were a ghost.

  Before Bray could say anything, Teddy crossed the room and embraced him.

  Bray bit back a swell of nostalgia he hadn’t expected as they clapped each other on the back.

  “You made it out,” Teddy said. He stepped back and appraised Bray, as if he might disappear, or the guards might pull him away.

  “I could use a washcloth,” Bray said. “And a drink.”

  “Of course. I hope water will do,” Teddy said with a smile, as he fetched Bray a flask. “I’m surprised to see you out.”

  “Apparently, I’m good enough for the Shucking Rooms. Another pair of hands to work.”

  “I thought I wouldn’t see you again,” Teddy clarified, shaking his head. “I saw the fight from the back row. I wanted to help…” An emotion ran through his face that Bray wasn’t used to seeing. “I couldn’t…I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Bray said. Voicing the question that he’d been waiting to ask for too many solitary days, he said, “Is Kirby alright?”

  “She’s fine,” Teddy said.

  Bray felt a surge of relief. Teddy looked past Bray and into the courtyard, as if he had more to say, and Bray was sure he did.

  Keeping his conversation quiet, Teddy said, “I have something for you. But not right now. Let me make you something to eat. You must be starved.”

  Chapter 57: Kirby

  The sun was turning from yellow to amber as Kirby walked up one of the pathways with her water bucket in hand. She turned down a few alleys, passing a few groups of chatting slaves, when she spotted Bray in the distance. He walked with his head bowed, his arms to his sides. Looking around, she spotted no one suspicious nearby as she walked fast enough to overtake him.

  Bray looked over carefully. “Kirby,” he said, his voice laced with an emotion she had missed.

  “How are you?” she asked.

  Putting his hand to his head, he said, “If that’s how you try to help someone, I’ll be sure to never make you angry.”

  Kirby hid a tearful smile. “I didn’t mean to…”

  “You kept me alive,” Bray said. “I owe you.”

  “You do not owe me anything,” Kirby said, swallowing a tinge of emotion. Looking back and forth to ensure no one heard, she said, “We are almost ready.”

  “Teddy told me,” Bray said, keeping his voice low. “How long until the escape route is finished?”

  Kirby felt a pang of nervousness as she spoke the words aloud. “Three days. The people working on it have been taking shifts. They have to work very quietly, of course. A few times, the mutants startled them at night, forcing them to go slower than they would’ve liked. They have to cover it up afterward, as you know. Drew will pass the word the night before we are to act.”

  “I’ll be ready,” Bray said.

  A feeling overcame Kirby. Standing in the amber sunlight, she recalled those last moments before she had left her homeland. She remembered the fear behind the resolve in her comrades’ eyes, as they prepared for their last fight to freedom.

  But her feeling for Bray was stronger.

  “Be careful,” she said to him.

  Bray reached over, gently touching her fingers for a split second, before breaking away, leaving only his familiar smell behind.

  Chapter 58: Kirby

  Kirby turned back and forth on her bedroll, looking from the ceiling to the dark sky out the open doorway. Long ago, the last, lingering conversations had quieted. The bonfires were doused, leaving a faint smell of smoke that reminded her of the wild. It would take more than a smell to convince her she wasn’t living in this hellish place.

  Three more days…

  Esmeralda quietly snored from he
r bedroll, getting the few bits of sleep she managed before Fiona roused her for a feeding. Kirby turned, trying to forget her trepidations and the pain of her lumps so she could get comfortable, even though she doubted she’d succeed. Far in the distance, a yowling mutant reminded her of The Shadow People, creeping through the night and finishing the last few bits of the passage, before they committed to a plan that would lead either to salvation or to their deaths.

  Forcing her eyes shut, she tried to envision the outcome of their plan.

  Before she knew it, she was asleep.

  All at once, she was back on that dock in her homeland, running alongside hundreds of sweaty, nervous men and women, as they made for the ships that would lead to their freedom. Kirby looked over her shoulder, glimpsing the silhouette of a city that had provided only torment. The people around her were mere shadows in the moonlight, their breath heaving, their faces indiscernible. Every so often, she recognized one of the people with whom she had shared a cell, a meal, or a conversation. Too many of those discussions had been about this moment.

  And now it was here.

  Kirby’s legs felt as if they might collapse underneath the weight of her nervousness as she forged ahead, reaching the deck of the ship and hissing instructions to the others. The people around her moved with practiced, nervous hands, using their experience in the wars to aid in their freedom. All around her on the docks, she heard the quiet movements of a few hundred others, taking control of similar ships. Any moment, Kirby expected a stream of torches and a litany of shouts to expose them.

  “Hurry!” someone next to her exclaimed, as she worked on a rope.

  Kirby loosened a knot.

  She pulled.

  Shouts drew her attention to the docks, where the silhouettes of more people appeared. Not people.

  Mutants.

  A dream became a nightmare, as more and more mutants appeared, thundering up the dock, snarling and bringing their stench. Kirby panicked as she pulled on the rope on which she worked, only to find another knot, and another. She felt her way along the rope in the moonlight, frantically trying to get the kinks loose, as the mutants closed in. On the boats next to hers, she heard the thud of several mutants getting onto the decks. The screams of her comrades echoed into the night, as the twisted men found hot flesh and tore.

  “Come on!” another voice yelled next to Kirby.

  Drew’s voice wavered in the dark next to her. She heard his fruitless cries as he pulled on the rope on which he worked, only to run into a similar obstacle.

  A thudding footstep landed too close.

  A shrill cry of terror pierced the air.

  “Kirby! Look out!”

  Kirby spun, abandoning the rope to find mutants everywhere, clawing, biting, and tackling her comrades. Her friends fought and kicked, but more and more fell, landing on the deck and screaming their death throes, or falling off the side of the boat and splashing into the water.

  Kirby spun to find Drew battling a handful of mutants, screaming her name.

  She tried to help, but a demon knocked her backward and away.

  With a cry, she watched Drew fall next to her, succumbing to hungry mouths and digging fingers. Kirby pushed aside the lunging mutant and punched another, knocking it back. But more surrounded her. Too many. Somewhere above her, she heard her comrades bellowing in agony, or falling silent and succumbing to the monsters’ tearing teeth.

  Kirby shot upright, awake.

  She looked around the small hovel she shared with Esmeralda, gasping for breath.

  She reached for her shank, as if the mutants might be everywhere and closing, but she was alone, except for Esmeralda and Fiona.

  A nightmare. That’s all it was.

  Wiping the sweat from her brow, she calmed her breathing and left her bad dream behind.

  A nightmare.

  Three more days…

  Chapter 59: William

  William sat on the edge of his unmade bed as he waited for the morning sun to rise. His belly felt as empty as the trays he had been handing back to the guards.

  He steeled his heart. Months of searching in the woods, looking for Kirby’s golden palace, had culminated in this. It was time to break free. What would happen on the other side, he didn’t know.

  Looking out the window at the sky, dark for a little longer, he recalled that first night he’d spent in the wild, after leaving Brighton. The stars had never felt as bright, nor the moon as full, as when he looked up at them from that first, tall building. He’d stood next to his mother, high above any place either of them had ever been. The wild had called to him in a way he had never known when he was a young boy in Brighton, with the only things he knew from stories, or the few glimpses he got through the front gate, when the soldiers returned from war. He’d known in his heart he was never going back.

  It seemed as if William’s life had stemmed from that moment.

  He’d traveled farther and done more things than he’d ever thought possible, with Bray and Kirby. But it would end here, if he didn’t break free.

  When mid-day came, he would do what he planned.

  The gods help him if he failed.

  Chapter 60: William

  Sweat poured down William’s cheeks as he crept down the stairs, the heavy gun in his hands. Far below, on the stairwell, he heard the last footsteps of the guards as they returned to the bottom floor, heading to the city to get more food for The Gifteds’ lunch. He paused, waiting until the door opened and slammed closed before he moved again.

  Silence filled the air, save his nervous breathing and the soft pad of his footsteps. He traveled the flights of stairs, past the floors where The Gifted lived, past the windows that revealed the empty cornfields where the workers had been that morning. Only demons lurked there now. Reaching the last flight of stairs, he dug out his hairpin, listened, and heard nothing from the other side of the thick door. Not a whisper, not a laugh.

  He had to work quickly.

  Tucking his gun in his robe, he started on the lock, fearful that someone would pull the door from the other side and he would meet resistance. A complication might ruin his plan before it started. The door took a while to unlock, but it opened easily.

  William’s heart pounded furiously as he peered into a room he hadn’t seen since those first days, when he’d taken the guided tour of the building with his friends. He scanned around the dimly lit area. A few pouches of the guards’ food sat on the floor, along with their flasks. To his right, he saw the secured box where he and his friends had stashed their weapons on that first day.

  He headed for it, hoping their weapons would still be there. Or maybe he’d get lucky, and find even more.

  The box was unlocked. Swinging the top open, he found it empty.

  To the left side of the box, he saw the thick door leading to the only other room on the floor. Pulling the doorknob, he confirmed that it was locked. Choices.

  He might have a few moments before the guards returned with more food.

  He could either spend the time getting through a door to an uncertain room, or he could do what he came here to do.

  Tiptoeing to the opposite wall, he unlocked the entrance, inched it open, and revealed a sliver of daylight. Through the glare of the sun, he saw the dirt paths leading north to the corn stalks, the first rows of the shorter crops preceding them, and the compost heaps. William opened the door wider, drawing his gun.

  No guards.

  He scanned the wall that extended from the building, noticing the closed gate that led to a city he had never seen up close. He wanted to run into the sunlight, down the paths between the crops, and take solace in the trees and the comforts of the wild.

  But he wouldn’t do it without his friends.

  Hisses drew his attention to several rows of lettuce, where a few demons appeared, aware of him. A few scratched themselves as they crept down the path and toward him.

  More demons joined them as they saw something out of the ordinary. They app
roached in a cluster, getting within twenty feet of the doorway, trampling some of the crops. William’s heart pounded as he realized he might’ve made a mistake. He gripped his gun tightly. Instinct told him to slam the door, run back inside, and head for his room. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few pieces of meat.

  “Here you go,” he said, holding out his uneaten breakfast.

  William mimicked the same tone he’d used on the balcony.

  A few of the demons cocked their heads as they heard his familiar voice.

  “I know you’re hungry,” William urged. “Take it.”

  He flung a piece of meat in the direction of the demons, about halfway between the doorway and where they crept. The first of the curious demons ran over and snatched it, chewing. William broke up the remnants of his meager portion, casting it out over the dirt path and toward the demons. They scampered and grabbed, shoving food into their hungry mouths, getting close enough that he could smell their unwashed skin and the blood of their previous night’s kills.

  They watched William with red, hungry eyes.

  “I told you I’d come for you,” William said.

  He fed them the remaining food in his pocket as he spoke with them, until he’d exhausted the last of his paltry scraps.

  With the food gone, the demons stood, waiting.

  William looked toward the gate. Still no guards.

  Finding courage in his voice that he hadn’t used in too long, his confidence rose as he told the demons, “I know you’re still hungry. But I know where you can get more food. Plenty more. Follow me!”

  Chapter 61: Tolstoy

  Tolstoy sat among his Gifted, passing plates around the table. A few grumbled, or cracked their necks, stretching from a long morning of reading and studying. Picking up a plate of succulent, fresh-killed boar, Tolstoy speared a slice and passed the remainder over to Herman.