Master: Arrow's Flight #3

by Casey Hays

  When I get to the clearing, I’m not surprised to find Jesse and Max among the crowd—which is growing. Rovers watch from the tree line. Jeb’s team crowds around the tree along with a group of people from Jordan. Kyle stands a foot from the prisoner still tied to the trunk. The man’s nose bleeds profusely, and already one of his eyes is black and beginning to swell. Suddenly, Kyle hauls off and kicks the guy hard in the rib. He grimaces, but not a sound comes from him. I squint. What is wrong with this guy? Anybody else would have spilled by now.

  “What’s up with Kyle?” I ask Jesse.

  He shrugs, arms crossed. “He said something about this guy killing his sister. I don’t know, man. Seems weird to me.”

  Kyle throws another punch. A few people grimace, but nobody moves in to stop him, and a numbness floods throughout my body, causing me to remain frozen in place. And the story of Kyle’s sister leaps to the forefront of my mind. I push myself into action.

  “Kyle!”

  I shove through the tight crowd. Kyle ignores me, readies for another punch, but I zoom in and catch his fist just in time.

  “Stop!”

  He yanks free, turns on me, his fists clenched and murder in his eyes. He moves in, ready to resume his attack. I shove him backwards. He falls into the circle; they push him back toward me.

  “What are you doing?” I slam my palms into his chest. “Do you plan to beat him to death in cold blood with everyone watching?”

  “And then slit his throat.”

  Spit sprays out with his words. I glance at the bloody face of the guy tied to the tree. He looks as me, his brown eyes pleading for help, and still he says nothing. I turn back to Kyle, look him straight in the eyes. This is not the calm, relaxed, easy going guy I met at the gate. I have to reach that guy or this isn’t going to end well.

  “Kyle, it’s not a fair fight.”

  “Fair.” He suddenly bursts into laughter. “You want to talk to me about fair? My sister is dead because of this piece of trash!”

  He kicks out his foot. I ball his collar in my fists, shake him once to make him focus.

  “How do you know?”

  “I know!” He yells. His eyes pin me like two swords, tears pricking at the edges. “She followed him. He’s to blame for what happened to her.”

  I glance at the prisoner, still dressed in the Vortex uniform. He smells like a sewer; he looks pathetic. Scared. Based on his size, he could be from Eden. He isn’t. There’s no way those ropes would hold him if he were. I study him, more confused than ever.

  Jesse works his way closer. “They should’ve killed the guy already. If he’s the reason Sarah Stevenson is dead, he deserves it.”

  Justin fights his way through the crowd, and I’m silent, torn between what I know of Sarah’s death and what I don’t want Kyle to regret.

  In the past few days, I’ve killed. For me, it was instinct, the Serum pushing through me, commanding me. But Kyle? He’s had training as a guard, numerous lessons on self-control. His decision to do this is a conscious one. I look from Jesse to Justin and back at Kyle. In my conscience, I can’t just let him beat this guy to death. It doesn’t feel right.

  I press my hands into Kyle’s chest more firmly. “You’d better be darn sure that this is what you want to do. Because you’re from Eden; he’s not. You will kill him.”

  Kyle flinches, and I know I’ve hit a nerve.

  “Get out of my way, Ian,” he says through gritted teeth.

  I raise my hands in surrender, tossing Jesse a wary glance. He lifts his cap, suddenly uneasy about the whole thing. Justin crosses his arms and rubs at his chin, his eyes darting to connect with me. Kyle’s fist slams into the guy’s lips. They bust open, and he’s out, his head lolling to the side grotesquely. The crowd is silent. A few of the onlookers from Jordan turn away, clearly not feeling right about being here. But a small, tight circle stays intact. I close my eyes, step back, and Kyle goes in for the kill.

  “Stop!”

  Kyle pauses in mid-action as the familiar female voice fills my ears. Kate stands on the inner edge of the circle, full of panic and in a frenzy to charge through the arms and elbows and fingers and hands of the curious men blocking her way. She connects with me, sweeps her eyes toward the tree.

  “Sorry,” Liza swoops in behind her, an obvious regret in her voice. “She made me bring her.” She shrugs confused. “Something about a tongue? I don’t know. She wasn’t making sense.”

  Kate makes a move to approach the tree, and Justin’s hand juts out to stop her, confusion etched all over his face to match my own.

  “Don’t get close to him, Kate. This guy could be dangerous.”

  She yanks against his hold, tears rushing into her eyes.

  “Let me go,” she pleads. When he refuses, she yanks again. “Let me go!”

  He meets my eyes, shrugging. I have no idea what I’m supposed to think. He releases her, and she rushes the tree. I panic, step forward, planning to catch her by the waist before she gets too close. But she side steps out of my reach and slides to a halt on her knees, taking the prisoner’s face in her hands with a sob.

  There’s no other sound—not one tiny peep from the crowd. Kate’s lip quivers, her eyes on Kyle. His knuckles are covered with blood—not his own—and any cuts or bruises he incurred from using this guy’s face as a punching bag have healed beneath it.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asks. She snakes her arms around the man, supporting his head. My heart thuds; it doesn’t know what to think any more than I do.

  “Kate.” I chance a step closer, my voice quiet, and plant myself between her and Kyle protectively. I don’t trust the look in his eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “What am I doing?” She raises her eyes, desperation flooding in. “What is he doing? He’s going to kill him.”

  “That’s the plan,” Kyle snarls. He tips his head toward me. “Get her out of the way so I can finish the job.”

  Kate narrows her eyes. “Then you’ll have to kill me.”

  She lifts her chin in a defiant stand off, her arms tightening around the prisoner. I’m grounded to my spot, staring at her, completely lost as to why she cares what happens to this guy.

  “Just . . . let him go,” she begs. “Please. He’s harmless.”

  Her eyes shift from me to Kyle and back again. She tugs on the ropes. Another sob. Nobody moves to comply. Kyle’s anger is suddenly mixed with jumbled confusion. He faces me.

  “Your girlfriend knows this guy?”

  It’s Kate who answers him.

  “His name is John.” She looks straight at me. “I don’t know why he’s dressed in this uniform, but he is no soldier. He is not your enemy.”

  I stare at her.

  John?

  My heartbeat slows as the name resonates. I take a closer look at the guy tied to the tree, and a small hint of recognition needles its way into my memory. I saw him only briefly, the day we fled the Pit. He refused to come with us, and Kate was devastated about leaving him behind. She was so depressed, she hardly talked at all that first day.

  And now, here he is. He must have changed his mind.

  “She’s right.” I focus on Kyle. “He’s not a soldier.”

  Kyle’s eyes narrow in reply. “Oh, really? Well let me tell you something. There are only two people I helped escape through the tunnels. You . . . and this guy.”

  I shift my eyes back toward the tree.

  “I could care less if he’s a soldier, or a circus clown, or the president of the Board,” Kyle continues. “I only know he was in Eden. Maybe he was a spy.” He clenches his fists, speaks through gritted teeth. “Maybe he took advantage of my baby sister. Got whatever he needed and got out.” A look of disgust crosses his face, and the intensity is so strong I can feel it emitting from every one of his pores. “I helped him get out. And now my sister is dead.”

  He kicks out at the man, even with Kate in the crossfire. I shove him again.

  “Cut it out, Kyle.”
>
  “He’s not a spy.” Kate’s voice is full of tears as she peers up at Kyle. “He’s not.”

  I watch Kate, bravely hunched over John, and the crowd silently watches all of us. Kyle’s words sit with me uneasily. His theory sounds completely plausible. Maybe it wasn’t John but someone—an Outsider—could have gained access to Eden and gathered intel to take back to the Vortex. And the crazy notion that we had a cure was born. Based on Doc’s research, it may not be so far-fetched. Besides, the Rovers knew the Vortex was making plans for years. The Vortex would have sent spies. They could not have planned this siege otherwise. It all makes sense. I glance at Justin, my reasonable friend who always approaches everything logically. He stares at Kate a moment before he addresses Kyle.

  “We’re all sorry about your sister. But even if this is the guy you remember, no one knows who killed her.”

  Kyle clenches his fists again, his resolve faltering. He glances at Kate huddled over the body of the unconscious man. Tears spring into his eyes. He blinks them away.

  “My proof is right here in front of my eyes. This is the guy Sarah asked me to help.”

  Kate perks up, her hands falling away from the man’s face.

  “Sarah?”

  Kyle swallows.

  Kate stumbles to her feet. “John would never hurt her.”

  Suspicion floods into Kyle’s features, causing tiny lines to spider out from the corners of his eyes as he squints. My defenses kick into gear. I tighten my stance between him and the tree. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Justin, Jesse, and Max move closer, ready to back me up if it comes to it. I don’t want it to come to that. I don’t like being on the wrong side of Kyle.

  The rest of the onlookers exchange confused glances, uncertain of the whole mess. And then Rob forces his way to the center of the circle.

  “What is going on here?” His eyes fall over John before he addresses me. “And what the hell are you doing?”

  Kyle doesn’t move. He doesn’t answer. I lift my shoulders.

  “This guy isn’t one of the Vortex,” I begin. “His name is John. He’s from Kate’s village.” I glance at her before I add. “On the other side of the river.”

  Rob’s astonished stare pins me. “What?”

  “I’ve been to her village.” I wave my hands toward my friends. “We’ve all been there.” Rob blinks, and I add. “Yeah, yeah. I know. We broke Code and crossed the river.”

  There’s no point in keeping anything to ourselves anymore. We might as well blow every one of our Code violations out into the open. Every eye around the circle is on me, and my skin begins to crawl. I focus on Kyle.

  “I’m sure he’s the same guy your sister knew. He was in Eden for a couple of months. But he’s been at home, in his own village for at least two years. He’s not a part of this attack.”

  Rob narrows his eyes, shifting with a clear suspicion.

  “He could have told us where he came from. It would have saved him a beating.”

  “And if he had a tongue, perhaps he would have,” Kate answers.

  A frenzied mumbling circles the group. Kate slumps to her knees again and uses the hem of her skirt to wipe blood from John’s lip. Kyle’s shoulders droop as he watches her. He takes John in, a fraction of his anger dissolving.

  “You need to cut the guy loose,” I insist. “He’s not dangerous.”

  Rob crosses his arms, glances from me to Kyle with a lift of his brow before he nods.

  “Cut him loose,” he says. “Let the girl have him.”

  The group is silent. No one makes a move to release John—not even me—and Kate’s pleading expression bores into me, and I don’t know how to feel about this guy. I’ve never known how to feel about him—not since the day I saw Kate leaving the Pit and knew she’d been with him. Seeing her nudged up so close to him—her knees pressed into his thigh and her arms around his neck supporting his head—it tears into me a little. But I push those feeling aside, because I know without a shadow of a doubt that she loves me no matter what my brain is trying to make me see.

  It’s Justin who steps in, flicks open his pocketknife, and cuts the ribbons of rope. It’s also Justin who scoops John up into his arms and carries him off to our tents. Kate scurries after him, relief causing her shoulders to sink as she takes three steps to his one.

  Rob moves in on Kyle, slaps two fingers flat against his jugular to feel his pulse. He frowns.

  “We have a real enemy to fight out there. Get your head on straight. You want to be a Rover? Then get rid of your personal vendettas.”

  Kyle swallows and nods without arguing. He closes his eyes before he turns and takes off.

  I watch him until the trees swallow him up. I’ve never seen him shaken, never seen him lose his cool like this before. To be honest, I never thought I would.

  I don’t care to see it again.

  Chapter 32

  K

  yle keeps his distance the rest of the day. When the sun begins to set—the trees casting long shadows over our tents—he still hasn’t shown his face. I start to worry enough to confront Rob about it.

  He sits by the fire sharpening his huge knife. But when I sit across from him and voice my concerns, he pauses, runs his thumb across the flat edge, and looks at me.

  “He’s got some real thinking to do.” He licks his lips, casts his eyes toward the fire and watches it dance for a few seconds. “He’s wanted to be a Rover since the moment Central revealed our existence to him. They saw a lot of potential in him . . . because he has a lot of potential. Enough to become one of my best men.” He rubs a hand across his chin, takes the stone and runs it along his knife a couple more times. “But his sister’s ghost is still haunting him. He’s got to let her go if he’s going to be any kind of use to me.”

  I scan the shadows, thinking. I wasn’t too sure about Kyle when I first met him. There was something too reserved about him. Too serious. But when I needed his help, he delivered. I respect him, and I can honestly say I think he deserves to be a Rover more than anyone I know.

  I sigh. I hope he can pull it together, because right now in the history of Eden, we need people like him more than ever.

  Jesse, Max, and I eat roasted rabbit with Rob and Evan and a few of the others on their team, and they tell us stories. These guys have seen and done a lot of dangerous stuff and been to places on this side of the river I didn’t even know were out there. Their knowledge of the tunnels of Eden is astounding. During their training, they were required to memorize the route to every exit, and make it to each one in five minutes flat—in pitch dark. Every turn, straightaway, low-ceilinged area committed to memory. And outside of Eden? Until now, they were teams of ghosts. Stealthy spies, intelligence collectors, invisible negotiators, and warriors—when necessary. Through it all, they’ve become a family. No—more than family. They breathe, think, move as one unit. One being. I chomp on a piece of meat and listen to their low canter. And by the time I’ve licked the last bone clean, I have a real sense of understanding about who these guys are.

  As for Jesse and Max . . . they’re ready to sign up.

  Rob tells us there’s been no sign of the soldiers we ran into when we first arrived. He’s going out on next watch, but the forest has been unnaturally quiet, and this makes him uneasy. Plus, the scouts haven’t returned.

  “When are we heading out?” I ask the question casually, playing on my hopes that Rob has changed his mind about excluding us.

  He takes his time chewing before he answers.

  “You aren’t.”

  A couple of the Rovers snicker; Evan’s upper lip twitches as it fights a smile. I scowl at them and refocus on Rob.

  “Come on,” Jesse presses. He snaps a bone into the fire. “You could use us.”

  Rob stares him down, but I take up Jesse’s case.

  “You could use me for my speed. And Max and Jesse?” I gesture toward the stockpile of weapons the team brought back this morning. “The two of them did that all by
themselves. You have to admit that takes skills.”

  “Yeah,” Jesse adds, straightening his back with a sudden sense of pride.

  Rob keeps his eyes on me, a piece of dark, greasy meat propped on the edge of his knife blade. Evan dips his head, removes his hat, and trains his eyes on Rob, waiting. Rob doesn’t flinch. I swallow, my foot suddenly tapping involuntarily.

  “You’re not ready to be a soldier.”

  “That’s not what the Serum says.”

  “Oh, really?” Rob leans an elbow on his knee, knife still in hand. “And what is the Serum saying to you, exactly? What kind of song is it singing through your blood?” He scans all of us, refocusing on me. “Does it listen to you? Follow your lead? Or is it a bully, pushing you to do things you don’t want to do? Is it urging you to keep going even when you want it to stop?” He leans closer. “Is it?”

  “Man,” Jesse whispers. “That’s harsh. But . . . yeah. That about sums it up.”

  Max is as still as stone, his switchblade silently resting against his knee. I swallow, and after an uncomfortably long minute, Rob eases back.

  “I know what the Serum is saying to you, Ian,” he says. “Because it said the same things to me when I was your age. You boys are not ready, and we aren’t having this conversation again.”

  My breath catches in my lungs—a tight vise squeezing—and I release it in one exasperated puff. Jesse scowls. Max flicks his knife blade once.

  “As for the rest of you,” Rob says, scanning the group. “Be ready to move out the moment we hear from the scouts. That could be any minute.”

  A shuffling of nods skims the group. I toss a final glare at Rob and stalk off into the night.

  Maybe I’m not ready in my head. Or in my body. Or even in my blood. I get it. But my heart is willing, and that should mean something.

  I kick at the dirt as this thought settles in my mind.

  The quiet is overwhelming when I reach the tents. Everyone sleeps, but I find Kate sitting on a blanket—alone and motionless— staring up at the sky. In the moonlight, her black hair shines with a blue sheen. She sees me, smiles, and casts her eyes upward again. I swing my bow off my shoulder and settle next to her, knees propped.