Madness Unleashed_Age Of Madness_A Kurtherian Gambit Series

by Hayley Lawson

  He really hoped brains would match her beauty. In Pinewood, most of the women weren’t pretty or smart. He didn’t bother getting involved with them. It wasn’t like Leandro thought he was too good for them. He just figured, why would he waste their time if he had no intention of spending more than a night with them?

  He’d heard Massimo’s stories of nightmare women, and Leandro didn’t want any of that. He wanted a nice girl he could spend his life with. With any luck, this mystery woman was someone like that.

  The girl scooped up a handful of swamp water and drank it. Then she spat it out. Leandro shook his shaggy head in confusion. Was she really so thirsty that she’d drink bacteria-infected swamp water? Maybe she was dumb or crazy, after all. He really hoped she had the same problem as Tightwad and was just drunk out of her mind.

  Leandro watched as she retrieved her flask and tried to drink from it again. It was like she’d forgotten that she’d already done that. She’s hammered.

  The woman glared at her flask like it had killed her parents. “You useless fucking gobshite. You’ve got one job in your life, and you can’t even do that right. All you have to do is hold water.”

  Okay, this girl is clearly not a happy drunk. Maybe I’ve got the same taste in women as my father, after all. Crazy girls.

  Finally, she made it to the edge of the swamp. She would have gotten there a lot quicker if she’d been able to walk straight.

  She slumped on the stony shore near the mountains’ foothills, and loud snores came from her before her head even hit the ground. She was out cold.

  Leandro waited a moment and then trotted over to her. He stepped closer to smell her breath, but there was no trace of alcohol. Leandro was certain of that. She had gotten drunk on water.

  He looked around. She really couldn’t have found a worse place to pass out. She was right out in the open. If he pulled her closer to the rocks, she’d wake up. Against his better judgment Leandro nudged her, but all she did was roll over and snore louder.

  He wasn’t sure how someone so tiny could be so noisy. If he were to sleep next to her, he would get very little rest. Although even if she were quiet, he probably wouldn’t get much sleep if he was curled up next to her lithe body.

  Get your head out of the gutter, Leandro told himself.

  He decided camouflage was the best option. He dragged branches over, creating a ring around her so she looked like a shrub. A snoring shrub. He hoped the gurgling of the water would cover up her noisy breathing.

  Leandro was quite pleased with the end result. He couldn’t see her, no matter how hard he tried. He’d laid thorny branches around her to discourage any humans or animals from getting too close. Leandro had thought about changing into a human and lighting a fire, which would keep animals away from her, but it would draw the attention of other humans.

  Leandro settled down to watch over the mysterious girl, thinking about what he might say to her when they first spoke.

  Nestor and the rest of the hunters weren’t far behind Terrier, but they didn’t know it. They were too busy arguing about the fact that only Pavel had been by Sergei’s side when Tank and Knuckles appropriated Ivan’s head. Sergei was pissed, and he loudly detailed all the ways he’d repay their betrayal. It was nothing he hadn’t said before, and soon, Nestor grew bored of listening.

  He looked at the place on his arm where Ivan had taken a chunk out of his flesh. It was bloody and raw, but oddly enough, it didn’t hurt much.

  The other hunters were talking amongst themselves. Why aren’t they talking to me? Nestor wondered. Because they are talking about you.

  “Shut up!” Nestor yelled at the voices in his head.

  Sergei and the others stopped speaking and looked at Nestor in surprise.

  “Who the hell do you think you are, telling us to shut up?” Sergei spat.

  “Stop fucking talking about me like I’m not here.” Nestor paused as a new urge struck him. “I’m hungry. I need food.”

  Sergei shoved Nestor. “We were not talking about you. And you’re not getting any fucking food until we find Terrier.”

  Terrier fled from Vera’s cackling as quickly as he could. He needed to get to a tunnel without a working camera. He tried to remember which one Ryder had broken when she had been working on her latest escape plan. He’d stopped listening when she’d spoken about it because at the time he’d been sure that it was never going to happen. Now, he felt like an idiot for not paying attention.

  Ryder had finally gotten out, but he worried that she’d come back for him and the women and children. Actually, he knew she would. He needed to keep himself alive so he could help her when that day finally came.

  For the life of him, he couldn’t remember which camera she’d broken. He ran from one tunnel to the next, but they all looked the same. It crossed his mind to go see Natalie in the kids’ room because she might have an idea, but he couldn’t risk her getting in trouble for him.

  It did feel odd for Terrier not to go to the kids’ room because that was what he normally did. It was the only reason he and Ryder went down to Level Six. At least, that was what he told himself.

  Terrier had always felt more at home down here than on any of the other levels. He’d been taken by Afana’s men so long ago, he’d forgotten how many years had passed. His little sister Tilly had also been taken, and her spirit was still down here, even though she was no longer among the living.

  Many children died when they first arrived at the bunker due to the treatment and the conditions. Terrier had been unable to save his little sister. That was why he came down each day: to make sure other children didn’t suffer the same fate as Tilly.

  Terrier heard sobbing coming from one of the tunnels. It sounded like it was coming from a child. He headed in that direction, but there was barely any light in the tunnel. He used the crying as his beacon.

  Girls sometimes went missing, and their bodies would be found in the tunnels hours or days later. They had no protection from the men. The tunnels creeped Terrier out for that reason.

  Down at the end of the tunnel, he could just make out the dim outline of a little girl huddled against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest. Her body shook with sobs.

  Terrier walked quietly, trying not to scare her. “Are you all right?” he asked gently.

  The little girl’s head jolted up, and the whites of her eyes bulged in fear. Kids weren’t supposed to be down here, and for good reason.

  He knelt a few paces away from her, close enough for her to see him but not close enough to be threatening. “It’s Terrier. Are you hurt?”

  The girl got to her feet. It was Samantha. She’d only been in the bunker for a few weeks, but she already knew the big man from his visits to Level Six.

  She dived into Terrier’s arms. “Tell me it’s not true. Please, Terrier, tell me.” Her head shook against Terrier’s shoulder, and he felt his shirt grow wet with her tears. She felt so small and frail in his arms. His hand covered her entire back as he patted her comfortingly.

  “What’s not true, Samantha?” Terrier asked.

  “That I’ll never be allowed outside.” Samantha looked up at Terrier, and he felt terrible. He didn’t know what to say. The truth would hurt too much, but he didn’t want to lie, either.

  Terrier lifted Samantha into his arms. “Dry your tears, little one. We never know what will happen tomorrow. We should only concentrate on today. Natalie told me you’re a very good reader,” Terrier added, hoping to change the subject to happier things. He headed out of the tunnel with Samantha in his arms.

  “I like to read,” Samantha said through her sniffles.

  “You know you’re not meant to be out of the classroom without Natalie or one of the other teachers, right?”

  Samantha lowered her head. “I know. David was teasing me. He said that I’d be locked down here and he’d be free up there.”

  Terrier knew that was a lie. No one was free in the bunker. So many thought they were, but deep dow
n, they were all Afana’s slaves.

  “David said that?”

  Samantha nodded somberly.

  “David?” Terrier asked. “The rat-faced boy who smells like sour milk?”

  Samantha gasped like he’d said something wicked. Talk like that wasn’t allowed in the classroom. Then, a smile lit her face, and her laughter echoed through the tunnel. She buried her face in Terrier’s shoulder to stifle her giggles.

  “Yeah, David doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Terrier said. “Don’t listen to him.” They reached the mouth of the tunnel, and Terrier set her down. “Now get back to class. I bet Natalie will be worried sick about you.”

  Samantha wrapped her tiny hand around Terrier’s index finger. “Aren’t you coming with me?”

  “I will soon. I just have something to do first. I’ll watch from here to make sure you get to the kids’ room safely.”

  Samantha looked up at Terrier. “Was David telling the truth?” Samantha pointed at the glass ceiling above them. “There’s no women up there.”

  “Times can change, little one.”

  Samantha let go of Terrier’s finger, and her shoulders slumped. As she walked toward the kids’ room, she didn’t look back at Terrier.

  Times have to change, Terrier thought. I’m not going to let them get away with it anymore. I wish Ryder was here. She’d know what to do.

  11

  “What happened?” Massimo asked.

  Kelvin was out of breath and distressed. “Scott’s been murdered. His wife Annie came screaming into the Old Dog after finding his body. I went to their house.” He shook his head. “There was so much blood. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  Massimo was shocked by what he heard. There had never been a murder or any kind of real violence in Pinewood.

  “I want to see the body,” Massimo said, and Kelvin’s face went white. “You don't have to go inside. Just lead the way.”

  Kelvin frowned. “I’m fine, Massimo. It was just a shock.”

  “Do you know who did it?”

  “No.”

  There was a pause as the men tried to think about every person that lived in the town. No obvious suspects jumped out at him.

  “Did you have a fire?” Kelvin asked.

  “Just a small one,” Massimo said as he grabbed his English-style flat cap and headed out of the house with Kelvin.

  “Where’s Leandro?”

  “Out for a run. Did you need to speak with him?” He’d better not be thinking Leandro did it.

  “I thought he could help,” Kelvin said. “People are scared.”

  “He’ll be back soon. Has anyone new come into town?”

  Kelvin shook his head. “I was wondering the same thing, but there haven’t been any newcomers for years.”

  The men looked at one another. If it wasn’t an outsider, then it had to be someone from Pinewood, and it could be anyone.

  The men headed to Scott’s house, and Massimo braced himself for the worst.

  When Sergei and his hunters got to Level Four, which was their level, it was packed with other men milling about. In the chaos, Nestor took the opportunity to move into the crowd, away from Sergei. He needed to stop the voices in his head. They’d given him a pounding headache.

  Nestor pushed past someone, who wasn’t too pleased. “What the fuck?” the man asked.

  Nestor turned back to the man and growled, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth like he’d lost control.

  “Freak!” the man huffed as he walked away. He’d been called a freak before, but this was different. He was different. He felt it, and others could see it.

  Nestor quickly scurried away and headed for the kitchen. He was so bloody hungry. He took the first tray he saw, with a slab of meat and some vegetables, but as famished as he was, he didn’t want it. Nestor looked at all the trays and then took the one with the rawest, reddest meat.

  With his head down, he took a seat and started eating. It didn’t satisfy his cravings. If anything, it only made them worse. The noise in his head was louder now, sounding like relentless, wailing shrieks. It was like his head was filled with starving babies, and he couldn’t figure out how to stop their cries.

  Nestor slammed his hands to his ears, trying and failing to block the screams. How could he? They were inside his head.

  A heavy hand landed on Nestor’s shoulder. It was Yegor. “What are you doing?”

  Nestor turned to face his oldest friend, but he didn’t know how to answer him without sounding nuttier than a squirrel’s turd.

  Yegor shook his head. “You look like shit. Were you messing around with Ivan?”

  “No, why?”

  “Your lips, mate,” Yegor said. “They’re scabbed up like a day-old tattoo.”

  Nestor ran a finger over his lip, and he felt the clotted blood there. He knocked a scab loose and it fell on top of his meat. He pushed his plate away before he got sick.

  “I don’t know what happened,” he said.

  “Well, get your ass up. You’ll look even worse if Sergei sees you in here, fucking about. We’ve got to find Terrier, or we’ll never hear the end of it.”

  Nestor stared at his friend while the voice in his head screamed, bite him, bite him, bite that motherfucker!

  Knuckles and Tank brought Ivan’s head to the third level, where the generals lived. They’d played rock-paper-scissors before coming into the bunker to determine who would get the reward, and Knuckles had won.

  “Best of five?” Tank asked again as they made their way to General Murray.

  “Nope, I won.”

  General Murray wasn’t too pleased to see them. “You dumb sons of bitches! Did your mothers drop you on your goddamned heads? You’re not on Level Five now. We don’t walk around in our own filth up here!”

  General Murray’s face was bright red, and froth was forming at the corners of his mouth. Knuckles and Tank didn’t have a clue why, since they hadn’t noticed the trail of blood they’d left in their wake.

  Tank blinked in confusion. “We brought you a head.”

  “I can fucking see that,” the general told them with a sneer.

  Tank swung Ivan’s head toward General Murray, and a single drop of blood landed on the general’s neatly-polished black boot.

  General Murray gritted his teeth. “Holy fucking shit. Does that severed head have more sense than you? Drop and lick my boot clean, you fucking embarrassment.”

  Tank frowned. “I’m not gonna do that.”

  “You can’t disobey orders, numbnuts,” General Murray said, pointing at the cameras. They were always watching. “And you won’t get your reward if you don’t.”

  The general had played the role of “jerk” for so long that he had lost any sense of decency. The problem was, if he acted like a human being, his son Martin would be in danger. Afana and the advisors held the children hostage to control their fathers’ behavior. If General Murray crossed the line, Martin would be the one to pay for it.

  Over the years, Murray had seen sons murdered for the crimes of their fathers more times than he could count. The general wouldn’t let that happen to his own son.

  Knuckles and Tank were pissed at their superior’s command, but General Murray just looked at them and rested his hand on the gun in the holster on his belt. All the current generals were the children of the previous generation of generals, stretching back in an unbroken line to the first generals who lived in the bunker. Those generals had been recruited from the actual military that had once existed. Their uniforms and weapons had been passed down, along with their attitudes.

  Knuckles and Tank might have been stupid, but they knew a gun would win in a fight against their machetes.

  “Who’s it going to be?” Murray asked, loudly enough for the other generals to overhear. He hoped that this would give him and his son a safety net for a little while longer. “I don’t have all fucking day.”

  Knuckles pictured Tank licking the general’s boot, a
nd he accidentally let his grin slip. The general looked at him and shook his head. “What the fuck are you smiling at, you dumb bastard?”

  “I’m not a dumb bastard!” Knuckles snapped.

  “Then clean my fucking boot!” the general shouted.

  Knuckles looked at Tank.

  “Don’t look at him,” General Murray said. “You don’t need his goddamn permission. Unless you’re saving that mouth to slobber on his rotten pecker later? Is that it? Are you his bitch?”

  “I’m not anyone’s bitch!” Knuckles insisted as he knelt in front of the general.

  Tank looked down in shock. He was actually going to do it. Then again, what choice did he have? And it was only a bit of blood. What harm could it do?

  Knuckles leaned closer to General Murray’s boot with his tongue extended. His eyes were scrunched shut. For a change, General Murray was smiling. Before Knuckles’ tongue made contact, Murray flicked his boot into the kneeling man’s face. Knuckles jerked backward and fell on his ass, holding his hands over his busted nose.

  General Murray roared with laughter. “You dumb twat. Did you think I was serious?”

  Knuckles wasn’t pleased in the least, but Tank was laughing along with General Murray, with tears rolling down his face. “Good one, General.”

  Knuckles wiped his hand across his lips. “You fucking splashed it in my mouth.” He spat, trying to get the taste of blood off his tongue.

  “And you splashed it on my boot. Now we’re even.” General Murray stopped speaking for a moment as he forced himself to keep laughing. This had all been for appearances, and he couldn’t stop now. “What kind of sick fucker do you think I am?”

  Not as sick as the other generals in here, he thought. They would have actually made him do it.

  Knuckles glared at him sullenly. “A twisted one.”

  General Murray stopped laughing, and his face got angry again. “What the fuck did you call me?” He got right in Knuckles’ face.