“Why aren’t they hiding from you?” Maya whispered, needing to fill the silence, as she continued to look over their defeated faces.
Most people ran and hid whenever they knew the Enforcer was near, or at least that was what they did in her home town of Vicaris. At the mere mention of the Enforcer’s name, the entire city locked themselves inside their homes and businesses until it was confirmed he had left the area. But not these people. They showed no signs of abandoning their positions along the edge of the road, instead every citizen remained, watching them in silent fascination.
“I never have had reason to come out this way before,” Jarod answered, studying over the crowd. “And giving how isolated they are out here, I am willing to bet they have never seen a pair of Full-bloods with any authority. They are simply more curious than they are afraid.”
“Why are we here anyway?” Frowning, she glanced up at him. “These people are simple laborers, born and raised to do nothing but work the fields. And from the look of them, they are barely even able to do that. I highly doubt any amongst them is the mastermind behind your rebellion.”
“The other villages we passed through all pointed to this one as being the origin of the propaganda.” Flat and expressionless Jarod continued, focused on the road ahead. “However, I also have my doubts.”
Ahead, several feet down the road, Maya spotted a young patrol standing with his back to them, talking with a female officer. Both of them were so wrapped up in the other, that neither of them had taken notice of their presence.
“Hey, boy, come here. I need to speak with you,” Jarod bellowed as they neared.
The young patrol jumped a foot off the ground at the sound of Jarod’s booming voice. Spinning around and laying eyes on the massive man closing in on him, he and the young female both pulled their swords and pointed them toward Jarod. Maya hesitated at the sight of the weapons. Jarod, however, was undeterred and continued to approach the nervous pair until the tips of both swords were pressed firmly against his chest.
“If you both would like to live to see another day, I suggest you drop those immediately,” Jarod growled.
“Y-y-you are a Full-blood,” stammered the patrol. “T-t-that means you have to do what I s-s-say.”
Maya grimaced as she watched a smirk form on Jarod’s face. “Boy, if you intend on using that sword, then I suggest you do it now. Otherwise take me to whoever is in charge of this piece of shit village before I snap you and your pretty little girlfriend here in half.”
He stepped closer to the two officers, pressing their swords farther into his chest. The inexperienced patrol’s eyes widened at the sight of his blood slowly streaming down the blades. Maya was certain she was about to witness the demise of the young man, when a voice suddenly called out to them in the distance.
“Micah, you damn fool, drop that sword this instant. Don’t you know who that is?”
Maya, searching for the source of the order, spotted a clean-cut, rotund gentleman, dressed in a chief’s uniform, hurrying in their direction. Micah, looking over his shoulder, shook his head.
“That is the Enforcer, you idiot,” the chief snapped, drawing nearer. “The two of you are lucky to still be alive.”
Micah, mouth gaped, turned looking first at the wound in Jarod’s chest then up to Jarod’s expressionless face. Both he and the young lady swiftly dropped their swords and moved away. Coming up behind him, the chief slapped the boy in the back of the head. “Get your dumb ass back out in the fields where you belong. If those Full-bloods don’t meet their quotas this week, then not only will their rations be cut, but I’ll put you and the rest of the supervisors out to work in the fields with them until they are.”
Micah nodded weakly before running full speed down the road away from them. The young lady followed his example but in the opposite direction. Turning his angst on the staring crowd, the chief continued, “That goes for all of you! Quit standing there staring and get back to work!”
Slowly the crowd surrounding them dispersed. Maya walked up beside Jarod, peeking around to the wound in his chest. From what she could see it was fairly deep, but knowing her place, she held her tongue and remained silent as the chief returned his attention back to them.
“Sorry about that. Micah is a good kid, but about as simple as they come.” As he spoke he pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his thinning grey hair. “Now what brings the Enforcer and …” He paused, scanning Maya from head to toe. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“She is with me,” was all the answer Jarod offered him.
“I see,” the chief said, frowning. Maya couldn’t be sure, but it seemed as if he was slightly aggravated by her presence. “Well, what brings the two of you all the way out to our little piece of nowhere?”
“We are investigating some propaganda material that has been spreading through here and the surrounding areas. After stopping in several of the other villages, our investigation has led us here.”
“Oh, is that all? Well you are a couple of days too late.” A wide smile spread across the chief’s face. “Follow me.”
Maya looked up at Jarod, wondering what the chief could possibly have meant by them being too late. Jarod, however, remained stoic and followed silently. As they walked, the chief pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Jarod. “About three nights ago we received a tip that there was a group of Full-bloods gathering in an abandoned barn on the outside of town.”
Turning down a side street they came to the patrol station and entered inside. Passing by several rows of desks, they entered into a back room containing a small holding cell. There, inside a cell meant to hold no more than five people, they had crammed ten individuals, all Full-bloods. Upon seeing them enter, both men and women shoved themselves as far back inside the cell as they could at the sight of the chief. All of them sported varying degrees of injuries, and many with rag bandages wrapped around still bleeding wounds.
Gesturing toward the paper in Jarod’s hand, the chief continued, “We found this group inside the barn with stacks of these papers as well as the press they used to make them …” While the chief continued to address Jarod, Maya studied the group closely, finding it difficult to believe these frightened faces were the leaders of a rebellion to overthrow the Shadows.
“May I?” she asked, pointing at the paper still in Jarod’s hand.
Without so much as looking her way, Jarod passed her the paper. Instead, he turned his attention to the chief. “Have you contacted the Tower for transport?”
“The Tower?” he asked, appearing shocked. “We are a small community and normally deal with issues such as these ourselves. I can assure you they will be appropriately punished, but I can’t really afford to lose any more people, it is hard enough to meet quotas as it is.”
“He’s a liar!” a man cried, running toward the bars and grabbing them. “Don’t believe anything he tells you! He is the …”
The chief, infuriated by the outburst, took ahold of the man’s shirt and proceeded to slam the protestor’s face repeatedly against the bars of the cell until he grew limp in his grasp. “That should teach you to be quiet.” he huffed, before allowing the unconscious body to crumble to the floor.
A couple of his fellow prisoners gathered up their fallen companion, pulling him away from the bars and toward the back of the cell. One lady tore a piece from her dress, pressing it against the bleeding mess that had once been the man’s face.
Jarod, unaffected by the interruption, stepped closer and glared down on the round man as if nothing had happened. “I couldn’t care less how you normally deal with these matters, nor are your quotas any of my concern. The Shadows sent me here to bring back the responsible parties, and that is exactly what I intend to do.”
The chief took a few steps back, placing some distance between him and Jarod. Apparently he was used to getting what he wanted and was finding it hard to accept that Jarod was unwilling to budge on this point as he foolishly continue
d to argue with the short-tempered giant. “What if you take a few of them back and leave the rest with me? That should be enough to appease the Shadows while not putting such a large dent in my labor force.”
In a blur of movement Jarod lifted the chief and slammed him against the bars of the cell.
“Do I look like someone who is willing to negotiate?” he shouted angrily. Patrols flooded through the narrow door behind him, but stopped at the sight of their chief suspended in mid-air. “Now unless you want to join them in the Tower, you will do as I say and send for the damn transport.”
“It’s him you should be taking anyway.”
The calm, serious tone of her voice surprised even her. Maya stood unwavering as everyone’s eyes fell silently on her. Her focus, however, remained on Jarod.
“What are you saying?” he demanded.
“I’m saying they didn’t do it, he did. Think about it … how can a group of Full-bloods, who can barely afford to purchase necessities, find enough dinar to purchase a press, ink, and large quantities of the expensive paper used to produce these flyers?” Maya shifted her attention to the shocked expression of the chief. “However, our chief here has access to all the supplies he needs and the connections necessary to cover his tracks.”
Lowering the man to the ground, Jarod approached Maya. “Are you certain?”
Silently Maya held up the paper and cocked her eyebrow. “Positive.”
Jarod’s brow furrowed. “You can get all that from a piece of paper?”
“Who is this girl?” the chief interrupted, carefully backing away from them and closer to the crowd of patrols. “And why are we listening to her? There is no evidence to back up anything she is saying.”
Maya turned on him angrily. “You want proof?” Pushing her way past Jarod, she stormed across the room toward the shocked chief and pressed the hand holding the paper into his before he had a chance to pull away. It took only a split second of contact to get the information she needed. Armed with everything she needed to know, she stepped away from him, grinning. “If it’s proof we need, then we need only go to your office and search your desk.” She paused, glancing over at Jarod, who looked almost as dumbfounded as the chief. “In there you will find several correspondences from the other villages we went through prior to coming here, warning him to cover his tracks prior to our arrival. Also there are also multiple copies of the propaganda pamphlets, as well as stacks of the paper and ink used to print them in the store room just down the hall.”
“Of course we have that stuff here!” the chief interrupted. “We raided the barn, remember? Do you think we would just leave it all there?” Though he was arguing his innocence, it didn’t go unnoticed by Maya that he had backed his way into the middle of the patrols standing just inside the door.
Maya frowned, but continued her arguments against him, “Well did you also take the equipment to your house?”
“Of course not,” he snapped. “Why would I?”
“So if we go to your house, we won’t find extra plates for the press there?” The chief paled, cowering behind the patrols, now backing their way out the door. She returned her attention back to Jarod. “They have been playing you for a fool the entire time. He and the other chiefs are behind it all. And they strung you along, feeding you the pieces of information that would lead you here,” she paused pointing behind her at the chief, “so that he could hand you these Full-bloods on a silver platter and save their own asses.”
A guttural growl rose from deep inside Jarod as he advanced across the room toward the patrols, who had already backed their way completely out of the room.
“She’s a witch.” The words barely above a whisper were spoken as the chief locked eyes with Maya, a wicked smile spreading across his face. “Boys, I think we should have a bonfire tonight.”
Maya gasped and watched helplessly as he and the patrols slammed shut the heavy metal door separating the two rooms.
Jarod sped forward but he was too late to stop them. Shock and confusion marred his features. “What the hell?” he yelled, pounding his fist against the closed door. “Open this door or when I get out of here there won’t be a single living patrol left in this damn town!”
Maya could feel his anger building, radiating off him until the air of the room was thick with his fury. While he continued to vent his frustration on the unwavering door, Maya took the opportunity to take a better look at the rest of the room surrounding her. The building was old and well built. Heavy stone and mortar made up the windowless walls, which were reinforced with thick bars made of the same heavy metal the door was.
“That is a panic door, built to contain Full-bloods back when they still drank blood,” a soft voice explained from within the cell. “Once shut only the chief has the key to open it, and if I know him, he is already halfway to the next village by now.”
Maya faced the cell and the lady inside. “He means for us to starve in here?”
“Yes, miss.”
A roar of frustration filled the room, drawing Maya’s attention back to Jarod. Giving up on the metal door, he turned toward Maya, his intense gaze void of recognition. No trace of the Jarod she had come to know over the last few months could be found in the glowing red eyes staring back at her. Instead, the man that stared down at her was completely consumed by rage. He moved a step in her direction, fists clenched at his sides. Unsure and afraid of what he might do, Maya moved away from him, keeping distance between her and his fury.
“Calm down and let us think this through,” she attempted to soothe him, her voice betraying her fright.
But he was having no part of it. Ignoring her, he instead turned his attention to the Full-bloods inside the cell. Defenseless and cornered, the prisoners cowered together against the back wall as he ripped the cell door off its hinges and moved inside.
“Don’t! This isn’t their fault,” Maya shouted.
Desperate to stop him, she darted inside behind him. As afraid as she was of him in this state of mind, she couldn’t sit back and let him kill a cell full of innocent people. Rushing around him, Maya placed herself between him and the terrified Full-bloods.
“Let me help you,” Maya pleaded, reaching a shaky hand out toward him. “Remove your glove and give me your hand.”
“Who says I want your help?” he demanded, knocking her hand away.
“This is not who you are,” she urged, “and I can help you, but you have to stop pushing me away. You have to let me in.”
A sinister chuckle rose from deep inside him, sending a shiver down her spine. “Foolish girl, you think you can undo what the Shadows spent fifty years creating? No, I think not. Now step aside and see me for what I really am.”
“No, I refuse to stand by and watch as you kill a room full of innocent people,” Maya argued, despite her wavering confidence.
“You don’t have a choice,” he laughed. Grabbing her up by the shirt, he tossed her easily aside, slamming her body, back first into the cold metal bars of the cell. The force of the impact knocked the wind from her lungs and sent a wave of excruciating pain radiating throughout her body. Refusing to yell out and biting back the tears, Maya somehow managed to pull herself up on her hands and knees. Through her foggy sight, she watched panic stricken as Jarod continued forward, snatching up the first person he came to, and lifted the trembling young man effortlessly into the air. With a grin that could freeze moving water, Jarod grabbed a fistful of the young man’s hair, preparing to snap his neck. Screams bounced of the rock walls as the rest of the Full-bloods scrabbled to get around him and out of the confines of the cell.
“Don’t!” Maya screamed.
Mustering every bit of her strength, she climbed to her feet and raced forward. Every inch of his body was covered in that cursed black attire, except for one place. Leaping as high as she could, she attached herself to his back. Jarod, caught off guard by her move, dropped his prey, allowing the young man to dash out the door behind them.
“Get off
me!” he shouted, trying to get a grip on her to pull her off.
But Maya was determined. Snaking her legs around his waist, she held on as Jarod continued to try and shake her loose. “Get off me woman, or I will hurt you,” he bellowed.
“Not until you stop. I am not letting you kill these people.”
Furious at her disobedience, Jarod sent his weight backwards, slamming Maya once again into the metal bars. She gritted her teeth, refusing to scream as once again the pain coursed through her entire body. But she wasn’t giving up. Instead she dug her fingers into his jacket and held on tighter. He continued to press the full mass of himself against her, crushing her small frame under his tremendous weight and making it difficult for her to breathe. Maya could feel something wet dripping down her back and knew that some of her stiches had torn loose underneath the strain. Even so, she continued to hang on with all her might, and it wasn’t long before she could feel herself beginning to lose consciousness. Knowing she needed to do something quick or she was going to pass out and awaken to a room full of corpses, Maya took advantage of Jarod’s weight supporting hers against the bars, released her grasp on his jacket and pressed both hands against the sides of his face.
“Don’t you dare!” he yelled. Leaning forward, he slammed her hard against the bars once again. She bit her lip, suppressing the scream, and holding on as his hands encircled her wrists. Knowing she was only moments away from being tossed over his head, Maya wrapped herself in her calming light and forced every bit of it into Jarod. Instantly he froze.
“Maya, don’t,” he whispered. “You can’t control it.”
Ignoring him, she pulled at the darkness devouring him. Instantly it overwhelmed her, snuffing out the lights of the room and consuming her in a void of hatred and revenge.
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