Alarum (Walking Shadows Book 1)

by Talis Jones

I don’t waste time searching for its owner. I snatch it up quick as a blink and straighten just as Gibson collides into me. My breath is stolen from my lungs as I hit the ground hard with the weight of a giant man on top of me. Hot slime spreads over my torso and as I struggle to bring air back into my lungs I hear the crowd go absolutely wild. They’re high on their victory.

  Air rushes back into me with a harsh gasping breath and the watchers are silenced. Confusion falls over the arena like a sticky blanket. I use the last of my strength to knock Gibson off of me and that’s when they all see it: a knife sticking out of Gibson’s softly quivering chest.

  While everyone sits in stunned silence mesmerized by the sight of life fleeing his body I reach over and pull the knife from his corpse. And. I. run.

  One guard reaches for me but his arm meets my knife before he can stop me. My tumble with Gibson left me near the gate where my opponents usually entered. I tear down the hall with nothing but adrenaline pushing me forwards. Exhaustion lurks at the edges of my consciousness but I shove on, still rabid.

  My opponents weren’t prisoners so it’s easy to wind through the twisting halls until I break through outside. Cool night air rushes over me but my steps don’t falter. There’s a whole Corral of guards hot on my heels although some commotion seems to have slowed them down. I run and run and run and finally I stumble to my knees. Adrenaline gone. Wearily I turn and see exactly what held up my pursuers. Giant flames, hot and hungry, rise up from the arena building.

  A dark figure bolts towards me running with the fire at his back so I can’t make out his face. A part of my brain says I know him but I’m just so tired…

  “Fury,” he rasps, urgency clear in his voice. “Fury, get up!”

  “Okay,” I say, right before I keel over. My body was pushed too far. Six fights. Six dirty anything goes fights against girls of varying skill, size, and ferocity, all hoping for a spot in the guard. All failed. All died. It was them or me and I chose me. Guilt tries to latch onto my heart but its grip is weak. They made the same choice I did, they just didn’t follow through.

  CHAPTER 43

  Moonlight slips between my eyelids and I’m suddenly aware of the rhythmic ride of a horse’s stride and warm arms around my own. My body hurts. It really hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts it—

  “Fury?”

  I try to respond but all that eeks out is a groan before I succumb to darkness once more.

  Sunlight bathes over me, warm and comforting. For once the angry sun doesn’t seem so angry, but it never feels quite as cruel here in the east. Dryness gums my throat and thirst twists painfully in my stomach. Slowly I open my eyes and move my hand blindly searching for a canteen.

  “Fury!”

  Riker rushes towards me collapsing onto the ground by my side, kneeling as his eyes take in my own. His face is nothing more than a smudge of dark colors but I’d know his voice anywhere. I try to ask for water but a pathetic hiss of wordless breath is all that I can make. He understands anyway and pulls me up gently so I’m leaning back against his chest while he holds up a cup of cool water for me to drink.

  I drink slowly, careful not to choke or get sick, and his hands carefully brush my sweat damp hair out of my eyes. After I’ve drained the cup he lays me back down and tucks in my blanket around me. I barely manage a whispered thanks before I’m asleep again.

  8 YEARS AGO

  I lean against the fence glad it’d warmed up enough to regain our quota of daylight in the corral. That crumbling mill felt haunted and the long winter made every day a bit tighter and harder to breathe. Rat had moved into Skills two months ago but so had Shadow. I never bothered to make new allies, I’d relied on those I’d banded with on my arrival and now my days are dull and lonely. At least no one’s targeted me yet. I guess they still hold a bit of that fear knowing I was in Shade and Hero’s circle. Then after they moved up Rat had allowed a tense truce between us.

  Something prickles my senses and I glance up. A tall stocky girl is marching her way towards me. I think her name is Spark. She’s only been here a year but she learned fast and it seems my bubble of security by association has just expired.

  “Hi bitch,” she grins icily.

  Leading with an attack I see. Tense I push off from the wooden slats. “What’d you just call me?” I growl warningly.

  “If I throw a stick would you fetch it?” She cocks her stringy-haired head to the side. “Because you sure did for Hero, and Shade, and Rat, and so as far as I can tell you’re just a pathetic lapdog.”

  I roll my eyes. If words are all she has then she’ll be no more trouble than a mean mosquito. “If you’re waiting for me to care then I’m afraid you’re just gonna end up like a beached whale on the shore of my indifference.” I turn my back and start to saunter away.

  “Hey!” she calls angrily. “Was your family tree a Weeping Willow? Because I don’t know how else you turned out to be such a crybaby.”

  I roll my eyes again and keep walking all too aware that she’s just one step behind dogging my shadow.

  “Did your parents piss themselves as the boss dragged you away or did they unload you willingly?”

  At this my feet stutter to a halt and my fists clench by my sides. A lot of people try and make themselves top dog but they never last long…except for Rat. You just got to wait ‘em out.

  “Why so quiet? You gonna cry?” She huffs haughtily and my head cracks to the side but I refuse to turn around.

  “You know, I normally enjoy a battle of wits but I hate to attack someone who’s unarmed. So unfair.”

  A sneer leaks into her voice. “I bet your whore of a Momma—”

  But I never found out what my “whore of a Momma” did because in that instant I whirled around with my fist up and crushed it through her jaw. I tower over her body as she lands flat on her back in the dirt. Anger rushes through me and my leg rears back to kick her in the ribs but she catches it. Letting her block shift my momentum I plow down on bended knee into her stomach knocking the wind right out of her lungs.

  My victory is short lived. She snatches fistfuls of my hair and yanks so hard tears spring to my eyes. I buck up and she uses that to shift out from under me and shove my face into the ground. By now a crowd has gathered around us, eager for the excitement of a brawl. They egg us on but I ignore them, only red in my vision as I stare my opponent down. Her or me.

  I claw at her hands and she shrieks. I feel blood trickle into my hair but I don’t mind because I’m free. Twisting around I throw a punch that knocks her nose sideways spewing blood all over both of us. It seems I turned the tables because at her summoning three others elbow their way to the front of the onlookers and I know either I win this fight now or I’ll be the hambone torn between a pack of hungry dogs.

  Winning would send a message but so would losing and I wasn’t about to lose. Spark reaches for me but I grab her wrist and twist just like Hero taught me. I only snapped it enough to sprain, not break, but it seemed I’d pushed her to her own edge. As she clutches her hand to her chest fury ignites her dull eyes and she slams me into the fence with her whole body. I’m pinned and she lays into me like her life depends on it, which I suppose it does.

  Just as I’m ready to blackout the crowd squeals and turns tail. Soldiers are coming to break up the fight. Sometimes they let us play and sometimes they don’t, especially when both fighters are good stock. As their boots stomp towards us Spark falls to her knees feigning tears.

  “What the hell’s goin’ on?” a Soldier barks.

  Spark begins blubbering accusations against me but my focus shifts to the younger Soldier, Shade. He holds my stare until I look down.

  “She started it!” she screeches limply.

  “You lying cow!” I snap angrily.

  The older Soldier holds up a hand and lets out an ear-piercing whistle to get us to shut up. To my utter surprise he looks at me with pride in his eyes. “It looks like scrawny lil Flinch has some fire after all. You might not have s
tarted it, but you sure as hell ended it.”

  Spark looks between us confused, her fake tears forgotten. Suddenly she hops to her feet full of mad and mean. “Her? This piece of chicken shit was about to fold!”

  Shade turns his quiet dark gaze onto her and I swear I see her shiver. “Here at the Tennessee Corral we don’t raise cowards or liars.”

  The color drains from her face as the older Soldier slides open a section of the fence, reaches in and grabs her by the arm. Protests spit from her bloody lips as he drags her bulk through the mud but he doesn’t let her go.

  I just stand there as Shade locks the gate back into place and departs without another word. Rain starts to fall from the clouds, slowly at first and then faster. A few kids who’d lurked to witness our trial come over and slap me on the back with congratulations, no doubt hoping to earn my favor should they ever need it. I ignore them. I’m still staring at the struggling form of Spark disappearing into the distance. Rain soaks my hair, my clothes, my skin. Rain washes the blood from my hands. And suddenly I’ve learned something.

  …I never did see her again.

  CHAPTER 44

  I must’ve only slept for a short while since the sun is still up. Even so I feel leaps and bounds from the walking dead girl I was back at the Corral. I sit up slowly but no dizziness tips my brain. A stolen horse nickers nearby. Tossing aside the blanket I examine my wounds. Riker bandaged most of them but a smattering of bruises still glare at me.

  “How’re you feeling?”

  I look up at his approach and smile. “Can I have my pants back?”

  Riker rolls his eyes. “They’re still drying. I washed your clothes, which were really disgusting by the way, but you only packed a single spare shirt? A thousand socks and underwear but no spare pants? Never pack for me, Fury.”

  “Fine,” I sigh, too tired to point out that we’d agreed to leave most of our supplies with the Grounder, only bringing the bare necessities. “Is food allowed? Or is that also drying on a rock?”

  Riker jumps to his feet. “Food you can have aplenty.” He returns with a bowl of soup and a poorly hidden grin. “And you might also want this back?” In his hand he holds my necklace.

  “It survived,” I whisper smiling. “I wasn’t sure it would…” He doesn’t ask about my glasses and I don’t bring it up. They’re not on me, are they? No? Then don’t ask stupid questions about something that’s obvious.

  He reaches over and hooks it around my neck. “I found it in your pocket. I’m surprised they didn’t take it from you.”

  My shoulders shrug but relief spreads through me. “A girl can’t live off jewelry alone, ya know.” With a chuckle he hands me the bowl of soup and I can’t help but notice the diversity of its ingredients. “I’m impressed,” I say, eyebrows raised in approval.

  “Thanks,” he grins proudly.

  “With the east, not you.”

  He frowns for only a second before he shoves me playfully. “Here I am nursing your sorry ass back to health and yet you still tease me. No ‘thank you’ just snark.”

  My mouth splits into a goofy sunbeam. “Thank you.”

  “That doesn’t count,” he grumbles.

  I reach forwards and tug his shirt so his face is inches from mine and I look him right in the eye. “Thank you.” And I mean it. His eyes dart down then back up and his smile mends all the bones in my body.

  “Eat your soup,” he orders. “I’m going to change your bandages.”

  I make no protest. The soup is delicious but the sight of blood rather ruins it. “I need a bath,” I shudder. Even though Riker changed my clothes my body still glints with the dried blood of my enemies.

  “You should finish your soup and you need rest,” he protests but at the haunted look on my face he nods. He scoops me into his arms and carries me down to the gentle river that swims nearby. Without a care for himself he steps right into the water and floats me in his arms. Gently we rub the gore from my skin until all that’s left are the bruises and a few half-healed cuts.

  Clean and dry I curl up on my bedroll as Riker rubs a bit of salve to help the healing. “You’re lucky none of your bones are broken,” he mutters more to himself than to me.

  “Did you throw me that knife?” I blurt out quietly.

  His fingers pause then resume their gentle massage of the ointment on my cuts. “I was hiding in the rafters.”

  “You set that fire too, didn’t you?”

  “The idiots had old forgotten hay bales still up there from when it was used for farming. That stuff goes up if you even think ‘fire’ too loudly. I raided their petrol supplies, spread a little everywhere, then turned those bales into giant fireballs to rain down on ‘em and give you a chance to escape. But first you had to win the fight, hence the knife.”

  He’s still not looking at me but I’m sure as hell looking at him. “It shouldn’t have taken you so long to reach me,” I whisper, scared.

  “It didn’t,” he admits. “I needed a day to put together my plan and gather the supplies.” He looks as if he’s done talking but he knows what I’m getting at. “I watched one of your fights.”

  I wince. Shame clutches my throat and my cheeks light up red and angry. He saw me dragging my cursed belly in the dirt and fighting like a rabid snake. “I’m sorry,” I murmur.

  He raises his head and looks at me, really looks at me. “It wasn’t you.”

  Confusion pinches my brow. “Yes it was,” I argue, the words pulled out my mouth slow like taffy.

  “No, that’s not what I—”

  “It was me, Riker.” I huff out a bit in frustration. “It was me. It was a part of me that I’m not proud of and didn’t even know existed until they dragged me off to fight for my fate. I’ve done things with a coldness I’m not proud of but I’ve never done something with such a lack of mercy before. It might just be a tiny dark part of me but don’t you say it wasn’t me. Don’t you dare say that.”

  Riker opens his mouth with a retort but he shuts it tight and nods. Silence settles over us, an uncomfortable itchy thing. “Remind me never challenge you to a duel, yeah?”

  Despite myself I snort a laugh. “Never would I ever, m’lord.”

  I see him crack a grin and the tension dissolves.

  “How long until we reach D.C.?” I ask.

  “It’s just Maryland now.” I roll my eyes not caring. “It’ll take us a few days. We can’t break into a high security research facility while you’re still recovering.”

  “That’s the point,” I snap. “I can heal a bit on the way. Let’s get close and make sure Shade’s plan will work.”

  Sadness passes through his eyes but it’s gone before I can apologize. “We stay another day, then we ride.”

  I agree easily, my own form of apology.

  Another day of forced rest does me wonders but it’s no miracle cure. By the time we set out on the horse I can walk steady. I’m just suffering from a few tender bruises, scabs, and small scars. Alright fine, it hurts like hell but bruised ribs will do that to ya. The biggest concern is the black and blue mark on my jaw paired with a black eye and split lip. If Shade was right, and he usually is, then my injuries could be our ticket in. If he’s wrong…

  Either we wait until it heals naturally or we risk being cared for. It might be easy to come up with a story and see a doctor like a normal hopeful citizen but they’ll search the rest of me, they’ll test my blood, and they’ll find an avalanche of evidence that screams I don’t belong. I’ll be locked up. We can’t have that. And yet that’s exactly our crazy plan. Except the being locked up part. I was serious when I said we can’t have that.

  We ride in silence, both of us lost in our thoughts. That is until we stop on a clearing atop a cliff and we witness what lies coming: a country of science and technology crowning the trees far in the distance. That’s what we’re up against. Well, let’s see how it fares against a couple of outlaws with not much left to lose.

  CHAPTER 45

 
Do you ever do something and it doesn’t make sense but it does at the same time and whenever someone tries to ask you why you just stand there and stammer like a fish with no water?

  Riker doesn’t understand why we’re chasing after some kid we don’t know and who might not even be alive. All logic tells us to turn back and save our own hides. But I gotta do it. I’m enough for Riker but I need something more. I gotta do something. Even if that something is the most ridiculous plan in the world. But I’m all that matters to Riker so he comes along. For me. That’s what he says anyway, but I like to think that beneath it all he wants to help some kid escape a fate of drugs and experiments too.

  I mean come on, we get to rescue a kid, a kid who just so happens to be super important to the government for some reason, and we get to finally crack open the mystery of Sanctuary, and we get to live happily ever after knowing that we’re free to live how we want and that we chose to spend those precious months on helping someone else for a change, choosing to make an actual difference. It’s the perfect adventure.

  It’s naïve. It’s insane. It’s a death sentence.

  But I gotta do it.

  I’m gonna do it.

  I’m a junkie with one eye on the edge and the other on the freedom fall after it.

  Leaves barely rustle beneath our boots. Riker pulls aside a branch and I squeeze in beside him. Together we watch the border into the Rochester Alliance and my eyes get dizzy with the details I absorb. It’s nothing like the faceless wall caging the Pacific Confederation.

  Tall poles are planted a hundred feet apart and guarding the border as far as I can make out. Completely invisible to my eyes but my brain tells me that strung between them is some sort of wire. I can see it glint lightly when the clouds above us shift. The whole setup looks casual, non-threatening. But I’ve an inkling that those wires do more than decorate, even from our distance the hairs all over my body wake from their slumber and rise unsettled.