I could hear Fandrin laugh from somewhere nearby and my vision went red. Someone had to make him pay for this. I had to live, if just to see that he died.
I remembered moving toward the girl, closing my eyes so I didn’t have to look at her face—at Mouse’s face—but I didn’t remember any of my actions after that. It was as if someone else took over my body and I let it happen. It wasn’t until I heard the clatter of the knife at my feet and the call to “Finish it,” that I felt the blood on my hands. My eyes fell to the floor. A small body lay at my feet. It was like watching the world from the end of a long tunnel. My breathing was angry and ragged, while the girl’s was shallow. I stared at the black handled knife that lay between my feet. My fingers slid together, her blood slick against my skin. This was the point where every other fight had stopped. The point when they carried away their comrade and placed another before me to break. But it was different this time. There would be no reset, no going back. The knife at my feet proved that.
I had promised Triven I would survive for him, promised that I wouldn’t abandon him and Mouse, but at what cost? Could he forgive me for this? My whole life had been about nothing but survival. Seventeen years of doing anything it took to survive, but was this worth it? If I killed a child for my own selfish motives I would be no better than my grandfather… My head snapped up and I met the old man’s eyes.
That was it.
That was what he wanted all along. To prove how much I was like him. To prove I would do whatever it took to survive. Just like he had taught me all those years ago. He wanted to prove to me that surviving for what I thought was right, was more important than the lives of others. He wanted me to see that I was the same as him, that I was still of his blood.
For one spectacular moment I fantasized about throwing the knife into his skull, but there were at least forty guns pointed at me and as my vision swam I could not guarantee actually hitting my target. I stared back down at the knife again and then at the child.
I smiled to myself. He was right about one thing. One life was not as important as the cause. Please forgive me. I silently pleaded to Triven and Mouse.
I stooped for the knife, swiftly snatching it up and with a mighty thrust aimed the blade directly at my own heart.
8. SHATTERED
“NO!” THE MINISTER’S cry could be heard above the ensuing chaos, but it barely reached my ears.
A large body collided with mine, grabbing for the knife in my hands. The blade nicked the top of my collarbone, scraping across the bone as it split the skin. Muscular arms wound around me in an attempt to crush me into submission. My body reacted to the assault with violence of its own. My hand flashed out, redirecting the blade toward my attacker. I caught a flash of jet-black hair as the knife found purchase, nipping Major Ryker James in the arm. Everything I had been holding back exploded to the surface. My fists moved with a speed and mercilessness even I had forgotten they were capable of. Ryker was equally skilled, our hands and limbs colliding violently, hard enough to break most people’s bones. With the knife in my hand, I was gaining the advantage. He couldn’t take my death from me and if he was a stubborn enough to try, then he could join me. I wouldn’t kill a child, but I had no aversions to killing monsters.
Our entangled bodies crashed into the crowd of onlookers, sending them scattering in every direction. The running children were soon replaced with armed soldiers. Little red lights began flickering to life, dancing over our bodies as we fought.
A cry broke out over the din, “ARMS READY!”
My head turned in the direction of the cry and I caught Gage’s eye for a brief second as his mouth twisted into a vicious sneer. Something moved behind Gage and I faltered. The Minister’s arms were raised, in a silent attempt to halt the escalading disorder. There was something in his eyes I had not seen before, something he had kept hidden, but I saw it now.
I had lost focus. I had made dire a mistake.
In the seconds of my brief distraction, Ryker’s hand grabbed my wrist holding the knife. The world flipped as I was lifted into the air and then slammed face down on the mat. The knife slipped from my hand as my arm twisted unbearably high behind my back, but that pain was nothing compared to Major Ryker James’ knee colliding with my forearm and snapping the bones in two. I screamed in agony. In some kind of accidental, sick-minded mercy, Ryker granted me asylum by punching me in the head so hard the world and the pain slipped away with the darkness.
MY BODY JOLTED awake as the ice water burned against my skin. I gasped and sputtered, choking on the freezing water. My arms threw wide in self-defense, only to be pulled back instantly with a stifled scream. My arm felt like it was ripped in two. I shuffled backward until my back hit the wall, cradling my broken arm to my chest. It felt over-sized and heavy. I glanced down to see a clumsy black cast covering my right arm from elbow to knuckles.
“I figured the pain of slow healing might be a good reminder of who created you.”
I turned my head toward the door of my cell. A dark figure stood blocking the doorway. Even though I couldn’t see his face through my swollen eyes, I knew the voice.
I laughed through gnashed teeth. “I suppose a broken arm is a pretty accurate representation of a pitiful, sick old man.”
The responding silence was heavy in the tiny cell. I looked down at the floor, smiling. “What’s the matter Gramps? Not the response you had been hoping for?”
“You will respect me child.” He snarled. “You wanted death today, but I chose to spare you. Without me you are nothing. I own everything your life is made of. I own you. Like it or not it is my blood in your veins, my voice that speaks in your mind and you will obey me. Or I will personally see that the end you so obviously desire comes as a long, drawn-out process that will make you wish your mother had never been born.”
A laugh barked out of my chest sounding more like a cough. I could taste a coppery tang in the back of my throat. Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back against the wall. A weak smile crept to my lips and the words fell drunkenly from my mouth. “Seeing as how you can’t even catch a librarian bookworm and an innocent little child, I’m sure you can understand why it’s hard for me to take your threats seriously.”
I was fishing and the rash old man took the bait. His polished shoes tapped across the cement floor stopping just as his hands clasped around my throat. I nearly blacked out as he yanked me to my feet, pulling me toward his face. “No one can evade me forever, child. Your mother is proof of that. I saw it in your eyes today, you’re giving up. Little by little you are wasting away here and you have two choices. You can either remember where you came from and rule obediently by my side, or be disposed of like the disease-riddled vermin you have let yourself become. You are disposable, child.”
My eyes flickered open, trying wildly to focus on his.
“You know Grandfather, I saw something in your eyes today too. Fear.” Grabbing the front of his shirt with my good hand, I pulled myself closer to him so my blood tainted breath washed his face. He began to recoil, but I held fast. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but I saw it. You need me. You are losing control of your city. Your people are turning against you, aren’t they? The revolution my mother started didn’t die with her.”
My voice was rising both in pitch and volume as a manic high spread through me. Even as I spoke the crazed words, I knew they were true. Fandrin’s hand began to shake with anger against my throat, trying to choke the words but I only yelled louder. “I can read it all over your face. You reek of fear and desperation. You need someone the people will love again. A long-lost prodigy bloodline that you rescued from the depths of hell itself, only to bring back to life and raise as your beloved successor. HA!” I cackled with sick delight. “You can’t kill me, you need me.”
“I DON’T NEED ANYONE!” The Minister screamed in my face, spit flying from his quivering lips.
My demented crowing echoed off the barren walls of my cell. “Yes, you do old man. B
ut you know what? You will never have me. I have so many more reasons to live than to die for, and you can never take them away. There is nothing you can do to me now. I know your weakness. I own you old man and I will never be your lap dog. Trust me, the second you think you’ve got me trained, the instant you take my collar off I… will… rip … out … your… throat.” I articulated each of the last words then lunged, snapping at him. My teeth just grazed his nose as he hastily shoved me back to arms length. True fear now burned in his eyes.
The crazed laughter filled the tiny room again. It vibrated the air and hurt my ears, but it didn’t stop, not when he dropped me back onto the water-soaked mattress or even after the door closed. The hysterics lasted for what felt like hours and as sleep finally began to pull me away from my own deranged cackling, I realized this was what it must be like to lose your mind.
“PREA…”
I moaned, feeling the pain in my broken arm. I was shivering on the cold, still damp mattress. The room was finally quiet.
“Prea…”
My eyelids felt heavy with sleep. At first I could not tell if they were open or not. The cell was so dark it mirrored the backs of my eyelids perfectly. Surely they were still closed tight, but just as I thought that, a face came into focus. It was close to mine, laying on the pillow next to me, watching me with warmth in those hazel eyes. Tears welled in my swollen ones.
“Triven.” I reached out to touch him but my hand fell on empty space. The tears began to fall in earnest now. I choked out a sob. “You’re not real are you?”
He smiled softly, shaking his head. I closed my eyes, wanted to shut him out, but his face was still there. Swallowing, I opened them again.
“I’m losing my mind aren’t I?” My voice broke and he nodded, frowning a little. I knew that lying here indulging in my mind’s sick torments would only hurt me more, that I would awake in the morning still alone in this hellhole with no one to help me. I knew that keeping my sanity was the only way I might survive, but it didn’t matter. I needed him anyway. Lifting my good hand, I laid it on the mattress next to his, not quite touching what I knew wasn’t really there.
“You’ll stay with me?” I asked the specter. He nodded, smiling sadly. Unconsciousness began to claim me again. “As long as you’re here I will never give in to him… I’m trying to keep my promise…”
My sanity was slipping away and I was letting it. He and Mouse were my only reasons to survive, but I knew the truth. No matter how strong my will to survive, no matter how much I loved them, if help didn’t come soon I was going to die in here.
9. ALONE
THERE WAS NO telling how much time had passed when I finally awoke, but based on the stench of my own body it had been at least a few days. My arm was throbbing and by reason, the heat radiating from my skin meant it was safe to guess I had contracted a fever. I buried my face in the mattress, breathing in the mildew stench. Tears were still clouding my vision. I pressed my eyes harder into the mattress, trying to staunch the unwanted waterworks.
I had been dreaming of Triven again. Every time I closed my eyes it was either his face or Mouse’s that laid in the bed next to me, their patient eyes watching as I slowly slipped further and further away from reality. Every time I awoke it was torture knowing that none of it was real, that I was still here.
That they weren’t coming for me.
No one had been in to see me. No torment had been inflicted, but there had been no food either. My stomach had stopped growling, knowing its meager protests were futile. Every once in a while I would awake to find a small glass of water, but those moments were few and far between. It seemed I had finally pushed the old man too far, and now he was going to let me rot.
Maybe I had been wrong. Maybe he didn’t need me after all. Maybe it was better this way.
Even with those thoughts rattling in my brain, something within me refused to give up. It was as if there was this minuscule flicker, this tiny, persistent ember that refused to be doused. And the only thing keeping that teeny spark still burning was the thought that despite what pain and torture The Minister could inflict on me, I was still defying him. Better than that thought, was the knowledge that the two people I loved were doing the same just outside of his reach. With Triven’s and Mouse’s triumphant evasion lingering in my mind, I managed to pull myself up a little straighter. If I died in here, at least I could die knowing my current life’s mission was still being upheld. That somewhere out there people were fighting The Minister. People he could never touch.
The lights flickered to life, blinding me. I drew away, cradling my head against the assault. The light was painfully over stimulating after days in the dark, like tiny needles stabbing my eyes. Instantly, my head began to ache. The cell door opened, but I didn’t move.
“Get her up.” A cool voice barked from the doorway.
I lifted my head with curiosity. For the first time since my arrival, it wasn’t Ryker who had come to retrieve me.
Gage stood in the doorway with a mingled look of pleasure and disgust. Two silver clad guards hurried past the young man and stooped to pull me to my feet. I hung limply in their arms at first, my feet barely working beneath me. It took what little strength I had left to stand, however shakily, in the soldiers’ arms.
“What’s today’s torture? Babysitting you?” I muttered, my voice was like gravel.
Instead of the explosive reaction I had been hoping for, a wide smile spread across his pallid face. My skin prickled. The result was much more frightening than any threat he could have spouted.
“Let’s get going. This is one appointment you don’t want to miss.” Gage turned, leading the way back down the hallway.
Someone shoved me face first against the wall. They fumbled for a minute with the handcuffs, my cast proving to be quite the hindrance. Eventually, they compromised by handcuffing my hands in front of me. One side was so tight it pinched and the other just barely encircled the cast. Before the bag was slipped over my head, I noticed that the size of my personal guard had grown. As I stepped through the door I had counted at least twenty soldiers before being plunged into blackness.
The boots seemed too loud as we moved down the hall, causing my head to pulse. I wanted to ask questions about this so-called appointment, to say something rude and demeaning, but it took all of my focus just to walk. In truth, I was leaning too much on the arms carrying me despite my best efforts to appear strong, the two soldiers half carrying me cursing whenever I fell into them. The elevator ride seemed excruciatingly long, my eyes staring unfocused at the black canvas breathing against my face. I was trying to count the seconds, but they seemed to be drifting in and out. When the door finally opened, it wasn’t until we stepped outside that I realized we were in a place I had not yet been.
Internally cursing myself, I forced my slow eyes to blink a few times. Pull it together!
I closed my eyes, forcing my ears to listen.
The sounds echoed here, not like in the gym or like The Minister’s refined office. It sounded hollow, with metal reverberations. The ground beneath my feet was coarse, gripping the bottoms of my slippers and grinding beneath the guards’ shoes. I could smell something too, but could not place it… A metallic tang in the air maybe… or more chemical based? Then there was that whirring sound… I knew that sound. I had heard it before. My brain struggled to recall what seemed like a lifetime ago. It was that sound on the streets, the noise those strange vehicles had made.
I was jerked to a stop just as the bag was yanked from my head. I was staring at a pair of metal doors, their tops towering a good two feet above me. The two guards in the front pulled several levers and the doors swung open to reveal an encased, windowless room made of steel. There were two metal benches on opposite sides with fortified rings affixed strategically to the floor below them. I scanned the room. The step up was nearly a foot off the ground, but stranger yet there were wheels of some sort protruding out from underneath it. The whole thing seemed to be vibr
ating slightly. It clicked. The smell of chemicals, the humming noise and the vibrations—this was one of the vehicles I had seen that first day.
My jaw tightened.
They were moving me.
Not just from one holding cell to another, but outside of this monstrous building. My mind spun with the thought.
Outside…
“Step up,” a soldier ordered in my ear. When I did not comply right away, the two men grasping my arms lifted and thrust me forward in the vehicle. The floor reverberated with a resounding thud as my feet connected with the metal surface. As the guards pushed me forward, the strange vehicle groaned and swayed under our weight. The men shoved me down onto the hard bench. They wasted no time securing me. As one guard alertly pointed his gun at my chest, the other took out an extension of silver chain and locked my handcuffs to one of the rings on the floor. He then attached the larger cuffs to my ankles. Once assured I could not escape, the guards hopped out of the container. It rocked again in their wake, making me feel a little seasick.
I could feel my heart rate begin to rise, pulsing rapidly in my temples. I was used to living in confined spaces, crawling through metal-encased air ducts, dwelling in windowless rooms, but this was something different. This was a metal box on wheels. A box I had no control over. I pulled at the chains restraining my hands. They barely rose to my bent knees. I pulled harder until my casted arm screamed in protest and the cool metal bit into the skin on my good wrist. As the pain escalated, my mind became clearer. Adrenaline was an amazing drug.
Think…
I kept the tension on my wrists taut. A slight boyish-frame jumped into the back with me. I glowered at Gage as he sat on the bench across from me. The doors slammed behind him, closing us in. For a brief moment, I could see nothing. Then as the vehicle lurched to life, a dome light illuminated the moving prison cell with an eerie blue hue.
New World Ashes Page 6
