Melanie covered her mouth. ‘You mean, you haven’t heard?’ Her face was streaked with sheer paranoia. ‘I’m sure it would’ve been in the news?’
Sam shook her head. ‘No, what happened? Tell me!’ She stuttered, not entirely sure if she’d wanted to know.
‘About two years ago, Mike escaped.’ Melanie said. ‘He, and forty other prisoners. No one have been able to find any of them ever since.’
‘Your brother’s a hero, Sam!’ Jamie added.
‘You’re lying. He must be here.’ Sam said in disbelief. She looked away as Eric lowered his voice.
‘I’m sorry Sam, but the crow himself scoured wastelands for weeks…they’re gone, and they don’t want to be found.’
‘No! It wasn’t supposed to be this way!’ Sam bellowed, and flew up from her seat. Her voice wailed across the room, shrieking in terror.
‘Sam, calm down…’ Melanie whispered. She reached for Sam’s shoulder, but was rudely shoved aside.
‘Mike was supposed to be here. I needed to see him again!’ Sam breathed heavily, thinking of all she’d been through, and everything she’d sacrificed.
Salty tears rolled down her cheeks.
Sam looked up, and saw the entire cafeteria had gone quiet. At the top of the balcony, Jack Crowe became aware of her breakdown as well. He gestured the guards to take in their necessary positions of detainment at command.
Sam combed the crowd.
She caught Viper’s eyes staring into hers with pity. She felt the burning flame of shame glowing in her face, and at last reclaimed her seat.
Melanie rubbed her shoulder, and passed Sam a glass of warm, faded water. As Sam took a sip, she saw the shocked faces of her roommates showed no sign of deceit. Mike truly had left, and was long gone by now.
‘I’m sorry.’ She said. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’ Sam was lying. She knew exactly what had happened, and what was going to happen. She had dug her own grave in coming here.
Chapter 5
It was just after midnight, and all ten members of the board were gathered in the main conference room. There had been an emergency call from the Keep, requesting their utmost urgent presence.
Each member of the board had their own special seat, with Cara Emitton at the head of the table. Only this time, it wasn’t Cara, but instead Richard Grey. Cara was seated amongst the others. Her head was scrambled, and her body was stiff with worry. They had found it quite peculiar to receive a call from the Keep, for it was never been accustomed to converse with the wastelands.
Richard Grey stood aside, and watched as Jack Crowe’s face projected across the wall. He seemed angry, but had a tinge of fear in his eyes.
‘Good morning, Jack.’ Richard said, his voice demanding.
Jack Crowe shuffled something on the other side of the projection, making the screen rustle, and cleared his throat. ‘Thank you all for coming.’
‘Get on with it Crowe. We’re not going to be here all night.’
‘All right then.’ Jack said, scratching his beard. ‘For the last few weeks we’ve been tracking the doings of an unknown group. At first we thought they were only messing around–released prisoners with nothing better to do–but earlier tonight, we’ve lost one of our main satellites. I’ve had guards knocked out on site, and reports of seeing–’ Jack paused.
‘Seen who?’
‘It was Mike Cyrus–along with a few of the other escaped prisoners.’
‘Mike?’ Cara gasped. She had wanted to rise from her seat, but couldn’t bear to move. Jack Crowe’s sour eyes met with hers, sending ice cold chills travelling down her spine. She saw in his stare, a deeply cherished hatred for Mike; growing more and more poisonous with every passing second.
She remembered Jack losing all respect in the circles of law enforcement when letting more than forty prisoners escape. Even though she’d never admit it, she was all too relieved when hearing that Mike had safely got away.
Tamara Amador was at the edge of her seat. ‘What do you mean you’ve LOST one of your main satellites?’ She asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘I’m afraid it’s been…blown to pieces. I’ve had to send out my best team to take care of the fires, but there was nothing we could save.’
‘I don’t understand. It’s impossible to get past the security barrier.’ Richard said. He clutched his fists while pacing up and down the conference room. An old habit, even when he wasn’t at work.
‘Not necessarily.’
Richard came to a halt, and glanced up. It was Cara speaking. From the very moment she’d opened her mouth, every member of the board had been hanging from her every word. He never understood why they had seen her as such a respectable leader, when all he saw, was a spoiled brat who had the legacy of her family to thank for everything she got.
He was all too happy when her niece got exiled. It left her bitter, and unwilling to perform her chiefly duties. That’s why he’d been standing up front, and she lounging in his seat. He hadn’t minded it though. For if it was up to him, it would’ve been that way inevitably.
‘What do you mean, not necessarily?’ He asked.
‘Well, if someone were to lower the barrier for them–’
Tamara shifted uncomfortably. She studied the faces of her comrades with angst. ‘Are you insinuating–there’s a mole amongst the capital?’ Her snowy white locks bopped along with her head.
‘Well,’ Cara said. ‘It’s the only plausible explanation!’ She turned in her chair to face Jack, his face still largely projected across the wall. ‘Jack, how many of your men know the key to the barrier?’
‘None of them, it’s just me.’
Richard crossed his arms. His navy suit drew tight around his shoulders. ‘You better not be lying to us, Crowe! The only other people in possession of that key are the members of this board. Investigate the matter, and if you find anyone unfaithful to the Emitton law, exterminate them on sight.’ Richard paused. ‘We can’t let the rebellion rise–Jack–especially not now! Your life depends on this, understand?’
Jack Crowe agreed, and his projection disappeared. Behind him, was left only a pale grey wall and a room full of horror struck board members. Nobody dared to speak as Richard Grey marched towards the table.
He pressed his hands against the cold glass surface, his face boiling with fury. ‘Our ancestors built this city to give the human race an undeserved second chance. We can’t have it ruined, and taken over, by a bunch of criminals!’ He stood upright, and adjusted his tie.
‘Gordon, make contact with the Emitton defence unit. Have him double the usual ratio of ammunition delivered to the Keep.’ He glanced up at the clock, and saw it was almost two in the morning. ‘Thank you all for coming–especially at these early hours–meeting adjourned.’
Richard stood by the window. He listened as the members of the board quietly got up, and entered the elevator. He studied the city, still fast asleep.
The only lights were those of streetlamps, accustomed to be posted all across the Emitton. A seemingly good waste of money, he thought. Far down below, he saw tiny specks of people quietly lurking the streets–presumably all selling drugs and breaking laws. Oh, how the human race has fallen.
‘Richard,’ a voice said. He turned around, and found it was Cara Emitton. ‘When will you ever stop?’ She asked, frowning.
‘You knew from the very start that a position on the board meant having to make sacrifices.’
‘I know, Richard, and I’ve allowed you to do some really nasty things in the past, but this has gone too far–‘
Richard placed his hands behind his back, and marched across the room. ‘No.’ He said, raising his voice. ‘GOING TOO FAR is letting the human race succeed in destroying everything around them! I will not rest, until all is avenged.’
‘Avenged from what!? Richard, I don’t know what you’re up to, but if you don’t stop now, you leave me with no other choice. The board has to know about Amanda and John.’
‘If y
ou breathe even a single word to the board,’ Richard hissed, he leaned in across the table, his face within touching distance of Cara’s. ‘I’ll be sure to tell them all about you little trips to the Keep. I’m sure your nephew learnt a lot of things he shouldn’t have while you were down there.’ He sneered. ‘Enough to start a rebellion even–’
‘I told him nothing he didn’t need to know!’
Richard grinned, and drew back. His eyes were satisfied with cruelty. ‘And I, my dear Cara, did nothing that needn’t to be done. Nor will I do anything unnecessary in the future.’ He swung around, and strode to the door. ‘Good night!’
Cara felt sickened by the cheery spring in his step. She felt like she’d all of a sudden swallowed her tongue, and hadn’t a single word in return. Her eyes followed him as he entered the elevator. The doors slid shut, and a sudden blow of silence drifted through the empty office. She felt it to be deafening, and closed her eyes.
Cara listened to the far off sounds of vehicles passing through the city. All of whom had a set destination. She, however, had none. Her mind was occupied by roaring boulders of her entire life rapidly falling apart.
She knew now, there was no point in denying the truth: Richard Grey was on a clear path of destruction.
Chapter 6
The room was dark when the siren cried. Its shrieking voice had boorishly crept itself into Sam’s dreams, and she felt like cringing to its high pitch. The lights in the room came on, and in a frantic reflex she rolled off the side of the bed. Her flightless body hit the floor with a massive bang.
Viper, who’d been sleeping directly below Sam, had only raised her head and frowned. After seeing that Sam was nothing more than confused, she laid back and closed her eyes.
‘Nice job hugging the floor butter body.’ She groaned. Her voice was crusty and smothered by the sheets covering her face.
Sam rubbed her bruised head and stumbled to her feet. She shot a venomous stare at the already snoring Viper, and bit her tongue. For a brief moment she’d completely forgotten where she was. She breathed in, and felt as a stuffy cloud of recycled air flood her lungs. She was still a prisoner at the Keep, and she was still all alone.
Hanging over the side of the bed Sam saw a clean, grey overall. It had been there the previous night as they came back from dinner–and as she was too tired to move it–she slept on top of it. Without thinking twice, she quickly undressed, and slipped it on. Luckily, the others were all too busy to notice.
‘Get up Viper!’ Melanie barked. She pulled the blanket from Viper’s bundled up body, and flung it to the side. ‘If you’re late, we’ll all be paying the price!’
Viper groaned. She sat upright and frowned. Her eyes were squinted shut; blinded by the sharp light that rayed past Melanie’s fiery hair.
‘I’ll get up when I want to get up!’ She scowled. ‘Now give me back my blanket!’
Melanie shrugged. She had no intention of giving Viper any sense of satisfaction. She turned away, and changed into her new overall.
‘If you want it, you’ll have to go and get it.’
Luna sighed and slugged out of bed. She leaped to the floor, and snatched up the blanket in a fractious scoop. ‘Just take it.’ She sighed, tossing it to Viper. ‘How can you both still have the energy to fight like this?’
‘It’s every morning the same story.’ Eric murmured. His eyes were droopy, and a dark shadow had grown around his mouth. He gripped a small guitar pick between his teeth, and rolled it around in his mouth.
He treasured it as a memory of his old life. Whenever he used to play the guitar, he would simply chew on the pick while stringing away with his fingers. Over the years it had become somewhat of a nasty habit.
Nowadays he can only recall the memories of losing himself in his music by chewing on the pick–pretending to feel the smooth strings of a guitar between his fingers. ‘Hey Aaron, the week’s almost over, and you haven’t spent a night in the box yet. Have you gone soft?’
Aaron smirked. He widened his eyes. ‘No! The old crow won’t win that easily.’ He touched his heart as if offended, and fell to his mattress. His eyes drifted to where Sam was resting against the bed railing, and their eyes met. They were instantly surged together, stuck to each other by an invisible field of magnetism. She had a faint smile dancing in her dimples, but her crystal blue eyes were stone cold. Aaron couldn’t bear to look away. They remained frozen for nearly a full second, before he broke away in a cold sweat. He cleared his throat, and felt like choking.
‘What’s the box?’ Sam asked. She’d seemed entirely unaffected by Aaron’s smouldering gaze; although he’d fell to a complete lack of breath.
‘It’s a small and dark room in which you’re forced to spend the night whenever you’d do something to tip off the crow.’ Luke said. He’d sat down next to Aaron, breaking the spell.
‘With no food or water,’ Aaron added.
Sam saw that they almost looked like brothers with their ash blonde hair that naturally swept to the side. The only difference was that Aaron had brown eyes, while Luke’s were blue. The deep colour of what Sam had seen the ocean to look like in photographs.
‘If it’s so bad in there, then why do you get sent there on purpose?’ Sam asked. She’d found men to be the strangest of all the creatures. They try to prove themselves tough enough to handle the deepest and darkest of pits. All while when starving to death at the very same time. Then again, who was she as Sam to judge?
Aaron shrugged. ‘I don’t know, I guess it’s like marking my territory.’
‘Plus, the crow doesn’t like it one bit!’ Luna smirked. She leaned past Luke to high five Aaron. ‘The damn fool usually sings the entire night!’
‘That’s kids stuff.’ Viper said. She’d gotten dressed, and was tying her pale white hair into a messy bun on the top of her head. She’d seemed in a particularly bad mood, and Sam couldn’t help but to feel responsible.
‘So you think you could do better?’ Aaron asked. He flinched forward, but ran head first into Viper’s stretched out spider arms. She had him by the collar, and he her with his elbow to her gut.
‘Oh, I know I could do better!’ She growled defensively. Just as they started to scuffle, Sam was relieved to hear the siren cry. Without seeming all too happy about it, they released each other, and obediently fell into line. They patiently waited upon the door to open; a ghastly silence drifting through the already stuffy room.
They heard the dragging footsteps of the other prisoners routinely slumping by, before two guards persistently came marching in. They hadn’t stopped in the doorway as usual, but instead fled towards Sam where they seized her.
‘Samantha Cyrus, General Jack Crowe immediately requests your presence.’
‘What is this?’ Sam stuttered, her voice hoarse. She desperately looked to Melanie for answers.
Melanie shook her head, and shrugged. ‘Don’t worry Sam. We’ll be here when you get back!’ She’d been just as stunned as Sam.
‘Oh, and while you’re there, say hi to the crow for me!’ Viper grinned. Her voice was stretched out to a smooth sarcastic pitch. She locked her eyes onto the younger guard, leaving it at no surprise when she winked at him.
The guard grunted, and turned to his friend, who briskly shoved Sam into the hallway. They fished their way through the masses of passing prisoners, and turned left into a strange corridor. It was dark and mouldy, as everywhere else. Behind her, Sam heard the two guards snickering. Her burning cheeks flush a bright red. She swallowed. It had been a full two days since she’d last showered. By the way she saw herself in the mirror the previous night, she could only imagine of what she looked like today. If only she had some kind of deodorant: A natural scent to warn off the dreadful stench of the wastelands.
As they passed by a small window, she immediately soaked up the sun’s gorgeous rays. Surrounding the keep had been layers and layers of red sand dunes as far as the eye could see; the look of something you’d expect on Mars. Unfortunat
ely it was nothing more than the sorrowed remains Riyadh–once the capital of Saudi Arabia.
‘Get moving!’ The guards barked.
Sam compliantly stepped away from the window, and continued down the corridor. There were small, square shaped cameras plastered to the walls, and she wondered if Jack Crowe might’ve been watching them as they walked.
At the end of the corridor, in a particularly dark corner, the guards pressed a small, shiny button next to a thick steel door. One of the cameras nosily shifted towards them, paused, and flickered. The steel door clicked, approving their entry, and the guards entered.
Inside was the misty office of General Jack Crowe.
He rested back in a black leather chair, only his head peering out from behind a bulky wooden desk. There, he sat smug and arrogant; seeping in his own self-righteousness.
‘Thank you.’ He said to the guards, and showed them out with a small wave of hand. ‘Sit down, Samantha.’
Sam hesitated. She saw Jack’s hulky arms had pumping veins from armpits to palms. He wore a tight leather vest that stretched around his waist; having only a minuscule tousle of coiled chest hair peeking out at the top.
‘I said sit!’ He cried, and immediately cleared his throat. He forced a smile.
Sam’s heart skipped a beat. She nervously held her breath as she sat down on a flimsy chair provided. It gazed athwart his huge, wooden desk, and lacked sufficient legroom for comfort.
‘I’ve been waiting for someone like you, Samantha. Do you know that?’ Jack’s low vocals sailed across the room.
‘Did I do something wrong?’ Sam asked, trying to stay on point.
‘You tell me.’
Jack Crowe rose from his chair, and pulled at the blinds behind him. He uncovered a large window that revealed the greater allotment of the wastelands. Just as before, there were red sand dunes as far as the eye could see. Fragment upon fragment, blissfully sailing in the wind. It howled through the glass, scuffing it. Sam saw a small patch of town at the centre of the scene, appearing broken down and quiet. As if only death had lurked down its streets.
The Keep (A Renegades story Book 1) Page 4
