by Drew Avera
They pulled him to the front of the ranks with his hands tied behind his back. He looked like he had gone several weeks without food or adequate sleep, but they must have been feeding him something, since he was still alive. Despite the change in his appearance, his eyes gave it away. They were the same bright blue eyes which had looked into Kara's eyes so lovingly. They were the ones I saw before we left Earth to save our home planet, and they were the ones who looked at me now, pleading for me to do something.
"Run!" Harris screamed. It was a jarring, guttural scream which caught me off guard. It apparently caught Ghon Abert off guard as well, as he turned with a stunned expression just before backhanding Harris across the face with the gauntlet. I could only imagine how much the strike had to hurt with such a heavy device strapped onto Ghon's arm. I wouldn't have been surprised to see Harris spit broken teeth onto the ground.
"Let him go," I said. "I'm here. You have what you wanted."
Ghon smiled. "I know I have what I wanted, but I can't give up Treston's prisoner so easily. He spared his life only so I could claim yours. I don't want to take this opportunity to carry out his punishment away from him." Ghon looked at a group of soldiers standing next to him. "Take him into custody."
It was a setup. Not that I expected anything else, but still, betrayal felt as dirty as it looked. I watched the men approach me. There were four of them, each armed, and one of them carried shackles in his hands. I thought for a moment about shooting them dead in the road, but Harris was helpless and would surely be executed as a matter of convenience for Ghon when the rest of the soldiers went on the offensive. As shitty of a situation as I was in, it seemed best for me to go along peacefully.
"Put your hands on top of your head," one of the men ordered. His hair was cropped close to his head, and he had hard lines on his face, which made him look much older than he probably was. I did as he said, and another soldier stepped behind me with the shackles. I expected to have my wrists bound, but instead I had my knees kicked out from under me, which caused me to fall on my knees onto the rocky ground. I went to catch myself with one hand, but my arm was already being bound and held by the soldier. If not for his holding the chains I would have fallen on my face.
After both arms were behind my back, I was assisted to a standing position, and the chains were locked around my waist. I felt the man behind me tug on the remaining chain like a leash, and I was pulled backwards and forced to take a step back to keep from falling over. "He's ready, Sir."
"Flank him and follow me," the first man said with a gruff voice that sounded like it was about to fail. He turned to walk back towards Ghon Abert and I was led behind him by the men on my sides. I had little hope of escape except for the fact my gauntlet was still armed and I could attack the men closest to me. It would have been foolish to try, though. I knew Kara and Laurel were only minutes behind me and I didn't want them to step into a firefight unwittingly.
"It's about time I was able to look you in the eye and tell you how much I look forward to watching you die," Ghon said when I was only a few feet away from him. He struck me with an open palm, which caught me on my ear. The ringing lasted longer than the sting of being hit, but other than that I was fine.
"I could say the same to you."
He only grinned wider, showing yellowed teeth that were contrary to the typical appearance of a member of The Syndicate. I imagined a lot had changed in the past year. "I'm sure you'd like to. Bring him in," he ordered.
I was quickly pushed forward for the march to Faracon. Several miles of walking with my arms bound behind me and torrential rain was going to be miserable, but it would give me time to formulate a plan. Unfortunately, I had two major problems. The first was that I was severely outnumbered. The second was that Harris was obviously ill and in no shape to fight. I couldn't act out and risk their killing him. We had come too far for such a simple, costly mistake.
"Are you all right?" I asked Harris once we were near each other.
I could hear him wincing with each step as he was pulled along by the soldier in front of him. "How's Kara?" he replied. Even with all he had gone through, he was thinking of my sister over himself. I had to respect him for that.
"She is fine," I said. "She was able to set things into motion which will save our planet, all thanks to you." I decided it was best to tell him the good that had come from him aiding us. Maybe it would help in some kind of way.
"Did she come back with you?"
I looked over at him and made eye contact with him. He looked so tired and weary. "I had orders to come alone," I answered, never taking my eyes off of his.
His response was simply a smile.
Chapter 16
Several miles in chains meant it took a long time for us to reach Faracon, and it was just as I had remembered it. The only difference was the sun was up, though mostly hidden behind the storm clouds. The rain had died down quite a bit and now we were experiencing a drizzle of sorts. It wasn't as bad as it had been, but now the rain was more annoying than a hindrance. It was funny how the mind viewed things like that when I should have been more concerned about the weapons trained at our backs.
As we were escorted through the city, I looked around and could see where the water tower had once stood that Laurel and I had sabotaged. The chamber was still lying on the ground on its side, looking like a mangled mess with the ruptured hull folded over itself from hitting the ground. I imagined the spray of water escaping it once it hit the ground must have been impressive. It was a wonder they left it there. Perhaps it was a way to remember what we had done. Or maybe rebuilding took a higher priority than cleanup. There was a new water tower in its place, and it seemed to be more secure than I remembered the last one being.
Things had looked much different in the dark, and coupled with a year passing, I had forgotten about a central wall we were now being led next to. The stones reached fifteen to twenty feet in the air and were actually quite beautiful to look at. The wall looked like it could have been a primary defense many years ago, but was now part of the inner city area. After another half mile of our walking, the wall opened up into a courtyard that vaguely resembled the one at the Pontiff's Palace. There were raised steps that led to a podium where an older man stood, looking regal and just as malicious as Ghon did. His hair was thinning on top and his eyes were deep-set and cold. Other than that, he bore a resemblance to Harris.
"That's my uncle, Treston," Harris whispered as we came to a stop. That explained the familial look between them, though from what I gathered they were practically strangers, with nothing in common but blood. We were standing maybe fifty feet from the base of the stage, and when I looked up at the man he wasn't even looking at us. Instead he looked straight ahead as if we were beneath him.
"Ghon, I see you were successful in your recovery of Mr. Blackwell," Treston said finally.
Ghon was standing next to me when he spoke. "Yes, Treston. Our ruse was a success, and I have brought your nephew back for your disposal." Ghon nudged me with his elbow which I assumed was a way to emphasize what he had said. Especially the disposal bit.
Treston gripped the podium with both hands and looked at Ghon to reply. "A lesser man would have killed him, but you show me favor, my friend. Thank you." He grinned and bared his teeth. There was a wickedness that was exuberant when he smiled.
"It is a show of respect. I appreciate all you have done for me and my people. The Syndicate is thankful you as well," Ghon said. There was something about the way they spoke to each other. It was like some kind of act where they were kissing up to each other. I had never known The Syndicate to put anyone above their order, and based on the things Harris had said about his uncle, he never did either. It was an unsettling exchange.
"Please give my regards to The Syndicate, and take your prisoner. I have plans for my nephew this evening. I'm sure you understand how important family affairs are, Mr. Abert?" He spoke with such cold condescension that I trembled at the thought of what was t
o come.
"Indeed," Ghon replied, before looking at the men who had bound me in chains. "Bring him with me."
I was pulled away from Harris by the chains and suddenly realized that I was now powerless to do anything to help him or myself. He looked at me with remorse and I realized I had waited too long. I should have acted before we were separated.
I tried to struggle, but the men held me too tight. "Don't fight, Serus," Harris said.
Was he crazy? If I did nothing then we would both die! "Harris, I can't let them kill you." My words fell on deaf ears as he turned away from me with his shoulders hunched over in defeat. I tried again to wiggle free and finally broke away from their grip. Now that I had room to move I kicked at one of my guards and broke his leg. He cried out in pain as he fell to the ground in agony. I felt victorious for only a moment before something struck me on my head. Everything turned hazy for a moment before I fell to the ground on my knees. My head was looking down at the stones beneath me and I watched them turn red one by one. It took several seconds before I realized it wasn't paint, but blood. I placed my hand on the ground and wiped a smear with it. There was no reason to do this, but I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience, and I had no idea what was controlling me.
I raised my hands to my face and watched the blood trickle down my fingers, and as it did, my hands went numb. The sensation followed up my arms and I had a metallic taste in my mouth. I was dizzy and growing cold before I knew what was happening. Several men surrounded me with weapons trained on me as Ghon spoke, but I couldn't understand anything he was saying. It was as if I had lost my hearing. It was surreal, and then my vision started to fade. Just as I realized this, everything turned black.
Chapter 17
I woke up in a cold cell too small to stand up in. I found myself lying in the fetal position and when I tried to stretch out I found I was unable to do so. The lighting was dim, but I was still able to see bars on three sides of me, and more cells arranged in a rows about twenty feet apart from one another. Most of them were empty. In fact all of them were empty except one. Lying in the next cage like an animal was the silhouette of a man.
"Harris?" I called his name to see if he was the man in the cell across from me. My eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the lighting, and after being struck on the head, I didn't know if the blow affected my vision at all. I ran my hand through the hair on the back on my head and it was tender to the touch, but it was no longer bleeding. That was a good sign. At least I wouldn't have to worry about bleeding to death from a head wound when there was so many other ominous ways to die just out of reach. I especially enjoyed how the light flickered against the sharp blade of the saw hanging above Harris' cell.
"Yeah, it's me," he said. I could tell he had been half asleep when I called his name. There probably wasn't anything better to do than to try to rest, given our conditions. It was hard to imagine his spending the last six months in such dire straits, but with The Syndicate and his crazy uncle involved, it seemed to make sense. It was a wonder he had survived at all.
"Are you all right?" it was a stupid question. His uncle's plans for him still lingered in my mind and I was afraid to know what that might entail. Whatever it was, I had to find a way to get us the hell out of here.
He rolled over to face me, and it was hard to make out his face with so little light. "I'll live I suppose." His voice was brittle, but the fact he was talking was better than the alternative.
I moved around in my cell until I found a place where I could sit up with my back against the bars. I banged my head a few times as I tried to navigate the best way to get situated before finally settling for a spot closest to Harris. It wasn't very comfortable, but it beat sniffing the moldy ground in this subterranean hell we were in. The ceiling of my cell was so low that even sitting on the ground I could touch the top without fully extending my arms. This incarceration was more than physical; it was mental as well. I imagined many people had gone insane under these conditions, and were probably riddled with pain from going so long without being able to move adequately. "Have you been here the whole time?"
He sat up in his own cell and faced me. "More or less," he said. "They would take me out from time to time and have me fight for food. It was a sport where they would place bets on the fight and, if your friend in The Syndicate lost, I would get extra food. It was rather despicable."
Hearing him say such things really brought to light how horrible he was treated. Somehow I wasn't surprised by his treatment though. Ghon Abert was used to having his own way. He was from a culture of death sentences at the drop of a hat. Being out of that element meant he had to find some other means of satisfaction. Regretfully, he found that in my friend's torment.
"I'm sorry," I said. My words felt hollow, given the circumstances. If I was in Harris' situation, I doubted those words would mean anything at all. Then again, he had far more compassion than I did.
"It's not your fault, Serus. Such is life. Everything is meaningless." His words were softly spoken, while still loud enough to be heard. There wasn't something in the way he said them that alerted me to something I didn't want to admit.
"What?" I asked. I understood being depressed by his plight, but he was sounding like a man without hope. It was such a far cry from the man I had known six months ago.
He scoffed and it created an awkward silence for a bit. "It's in Ecclesiastes. Solomon said, 'everything is meaningless'. I guess he lost hope as he got older and knew he would die," Harris said.
"I don't know who that is," I replied.
Harris shrugged his shoulders and let out a heavy sigh. "I don't either, but I read about him in the Bible I told you about."
I remembered the book and conversation quite well. It was the first time I had heard anything about there being a God. I hadn't read it, but Harris had given me a pretty good synopsis from what he had read. I would admit to being cynical. Growing up and having the life I've had would make you question anything. With that said, I found Harris' faith and convictions admirable. He held onto something I struggled to find: hope.
"The book that cost your friend his life?" I asked.
"Yes." We sat in silence for several minutes before he spoke again. "Do you believe in God, Serus?" His question cut through the room like a knife. I felt ashamed that I didn't have any real answer.
I thought for a moment to figure out what I should say. "I never knew anything about God until I met you," I answered. The Syndicate had snuffed out religion centuries ago, and looking back, you could see how they had set up a kingdom where they would be worshiped like a god. How quaint of an idea that was.
His head fell back against the bars of his cell. "And?"
I didn't know what to say. Hearing him talk about the book seemed like it was full of fantasies and other peculiar stories. I honestly hadn't given much thought to whether or not I believed after our discussion, but now he wanted to know what I was thinking. How could I put it into words? "Do you believe?" I asked, trying to take the focus off of me. It was selfish, but I didn't want to get into a religious discussion.
"I did." Those words seemed to hurt coming out of his mouth. So much had changed since the last time I'd seen him and now my heart was breaking for him. I truly missed the warrior I had first met. He seemed so lost and broken now. How would Kara react, if we survived long enough for her to see him? Both parts of that thought filled me with dread.
"And what about now?" I asked. It was hard to deny how down he was feeling. I could hear it in his voice and even with every breath he took. Still, my friend was in there somewhere underneath the months of harsh living and anguish.
"Now? I think Solomon and I have something in common." With those words, the room fell silent. Perhaps I had made a mistake of dodging the question to take the heat off myself. There was no going back, though, and there was nothing more to say, so I got lost in my own thoughts. Being in my head was a dangerous thing. Just hearing Harris after six months of this was evidence enough h
ow crippling a situation we were in. I rested my head in my hands and groaned in frustration. Maybe Solomon was right, I thought. Maybe everything was meaningless.
Chapter 18
Sleep was an exhausting effort, but just when it seemed to arrive we were awakened by the sound of a steel bar clanging against one of the cells across from us. The ping of metal against metal was deafening and seemed to penetrate into my body to the point that I had a metallic taste in my mouth. I looked over to Harris to see him cowering in the corner of his cage with his hands closed around his ears. His face was red and his eyes frantic. I was starting to get a glimpse of what his stay here had been like for all this time and my heart was breaking for it.
"Stop!" I screamed, but the man only continued striking the bar in an almost rhythmic pattern. The lights were still dim as Harris quivered from whatever traumatic experience this kind of treatment had caused him. I knew this man and could not imagine how they could have broken such a strong person. His convictions and faith had been broken. He still seemed to believe in something, but whatever it was only seemed like a shadow of what it had once been.
I gripped the bars tightly in my hand and pressed my face against the cold iron. It was soothing at first, but soon took on the temperature of my body and instead grew bothersome. "For the love of God, stop!" I yelled again; to no avail.
Harris looked at me as if my protests had been some kind of cue, and his tears reflected what little light there was. The darkness in this chamber resembled the darkness I now saw in Harris. It was frightening to see him quiver in fear in anticipation of what was coming next.
Another strike of the bar was followed by a dissonant ring as the sound reverberated off the walls and cascaded into a menacing symphony of torment. Several minutes had gone by; almost to the point I was finding it hard to keep track. As each moment passed I was thrust further and further away from the lucidity of thought necessary to stay sane. As hard as it would be to imagine, this torture was going to drive me more insane than anything I had ever experienced with The Agency.
