by Matthew Samm
Alix wanted to tell him to shut up, but she couldn’t find the words and besides, a part of her desperately wanted to hear what Mad Jack had to say. She wanted the other side of the equation, the side from the man tasked with actually doing the deed.
“It wasn’t enough that my son had already got himself killed doing your dad’s work, he wanted me to finish it. Well, Jack doesn’t kill kids. Jack finds them and turns them into something better.”
Alix faced her fear and took a step towards Mad Jack, despite every fibre of her wanting to step back. “Then why did you have me punish him?” she accused. “If he was so special, why did you want me to knock the hell out of him?”
The face in the thin light smiled, the corners of his mouth raising in a sickening vision of terror and grim delight. “There are so many upsides to combat, don’t you think?”
Alix didn’t. It was her job, in a way. But it was combat that was needed. It was necessary. She didn’t do it for the thrills, she did it for the city and the people who lived in there, who needed to live with the effects of crime. She paved the way and helped them heal, but she didn’t love it. She didn’t enjoy the blood or seeing the faces of those she’d beaten. She wasn’t The Reaper, with a body full of death.
“Just think, Alix, there were so many things that could have come from that one little scrap between you and dear Isaac. Isaac wins, he’s one of us, fully fledged, a man of respect and standing amongst his people. You win, he learns and becomes one of us, his skills honed a little more. At the very worst, you beat him so badly that he dies, which was the whole point of dear Isaac being there anyway. You see? So many upsides.”
Alix felt sick hearing Mad Jack talk this way. His comfort with pain and death sickened her. “So why did you do what you did? Why did you hurt him?”
“Well, the blade can’t be sharpened without some force and you weren’t willing to do it. As always, things are always more to your liking when you do it yourself.”
It made sense. And afterwards, they were both put in that cave cell and left for nature to take its course. Isaac could recover and repair, becoming a more useful soldier in Mad Jack’s army, or he’d die, which would satisfy her father.
Alix was beginning to wish she hadn’t come. Originally, she wanted to find out what was going to be best for Isaac and talk to him about his upcoming punishment bouts and what he was going to do afterwards, but now, she was thinking the worst.
Would her father have Isaac executed in the cells? Could he concoct a story that would give him that outcome? Alix had no doubt that he could, but still couldn’t quite believe it. Would that mean Mad Jack would be executed as well? She hoped not.
As she looked at him, trying to match the fire in his eyes, she flashed back to the beating he gave Isaac all those weeks ago. She thought back to his role in the crime that deprived her of her mother and half-sister. She’d hated him since that night Isaac had been taken, but that hatred had evolved as the truth had come out. She was surprised to realize that she still hated him, only now, he shared her hatred with her father.
Everything crystallized in Alix’s mind at that point. She’d come to the prison to decide on their future, to see what their relationship would be after all this was over. She’d found out. Isaac would be dead. Mad Jack would probably be dead as well and she couldn’t let either of those things happen.
Isaac needed a second chance free from their father. As for Mad Jack, it wasn’t enough that he might die in the cells. She wanted to do it herself.
19
Alix opened the door to their house, and it clattered into the wall, echoing around the living space. She cringed, not wanting to make as much noise as she had. Ever since her visit to her brother and Mad Jack in the cells of HMP New Manchester, she’d been feeling on edge, certain her father knew about her visit and that her love for him was dying.
Everything he’d done to her and her half-brother was starting to take a feral shape in her mind, and she was terrified of it. Everything she knew about her past was crumbling, and she didn’t understand where it might lead. She did know one thing though. She had to fight Mad Jack in the cell. It was the most pressing thing on her mind and before she sorted out her father and her half-brother, she needed to punish Mad Jack.
She walked over to the kitchen counter and put down her bag and keys before turning around. The fear and adrenaline of her prison visit had sapped her strength. She wanted to take the weight off her legs, just for a moment, and allow the day’s events to wash over her.
She moved towards the plush couches, but never got the chance to sit down. Her father sat cradling a glass with a thick bottom, gently swirling a yellow liquid inside. His eye contact remained unbroken and she felt as if he’d been staring through her since she’d walked in.
“Where have you been?” he asked knowingly.
Alix’s blood froze. Did he know? Had she been followed? Did the officers in the prison work for him? The realization hit home. Of course, they did. How could she not have realized this?
“I’ve been looking for you, Alix. I want to discuss things with you.”
“What things?” she asked, trying her hardest not to quiver her voice.
“Your brother and Mad Jack. I want to discuss with you what will happen to them and why it must be done this way.”
Alix felt a shift of relief. Maybe he didn’t know where she’d been. She sat down on the single seat recliner and pulled the handle until her legs raised off the ground and the weariness remained glued to the rug. “I’m ready. What do you want to say?”
“I know you’re close with your brother, but he’s going to be punished in the cells along with Mad Jack. You know this. What you don’t know is how it’s going to happen and what I’ve decided to charge them with.”
Alix waited; her breath baited. She wanted to know her father’s plan for her brother. She could feel the bile rising in her throat. He expected her to be committed to his plan, knowing that it included the murder of her mother and half-sister. As far as he cared, he’d explained why it was done and he was right.
It was obvious, Alix thought, that he was more settled with Alix as an heir to his throne. She was gaining more and more power in the Wardens and while it unsettled her to know what had been done to achieve such power, she also knew that she must keep the charade up. It was the only way to control all forces in this chess game.
Her father saw the silence as a cue to continue. “He is lost to us, Alix. He is not your true brother and foreign blood runs through his veins. He had his chance to become a true part of this family, but he threw it all away. He doesn’t deserve the opportunities he’s had.” He paused, taking a sip of his whiskey. “You know Jack was ordered to remove his stain from our family, from the Warden bloodline, but he didn’t. You understand that we can improve our standing in New Manchester if he is punished as a common criminal, don’t you? I never saw it before, but I see it now. He is a bad seed and you know how we can turn his betrayal to our advantage. You know all of this.”
He kept repeating ‘you know’ to her as if she should know it and if she didn’t, she needed to understand it now. He was giving her a cheat sheet to the correct answer, the one he wanted to hear. She nodded. “I understand,” she said, wanting to say father out of habit, but finding the word caught in her throat. She knew what he was now, and she didn’t want the term souring her lungs as she breathed out his name.
“Good,” he replied. “Jack has betrayed me. He has been useful in the past, but he should have carried out this task perfectly. His son already failed with our previous business and now he has failed personally. He is no longer reliable and must be removed. A man as famous as him must be punished as well. He must be executed in the cells, for the entire city to see.”
The murder of her mother and half-sister at her father’s command was ‘business’? She could barely stomach the idea that he thought of her as in league with him.
She swallowed the bitterness and nodded to he
r father. “I understand,” she said. Then the realization of her words sank in. She did understand, but she wasn’t happy with what her father said. Mad Jack needed to be punished and if the execution was the way her father wanted to do it, she wouldn’t shed any tears, but she wanted to be the one to meet him in the cells. She must have looked disappointed.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” her father said to her, noticing her face drop and disappointment seep from her features.
Sweetheart!
“Nothing…father,” she forced. “It’s just…” she was unsure how to broach what she wanted with the man who held all the power.
“Just what, dearest?”
Dearest!
“I want to be the one to do it,” she blurted out, the verbal dam broken. “If he’s meant to die in the cells, I want to the one to do it.” The words hung in the air, her father never releasing her gaze.
“You want to do this?”
“I do.”
“You are not the Deathsman. It is not your place to do this task. Only the greatest Warden we have is chosen to take lives in the cells. It is the only way the public stomachs death. It must be controlled and guided by strict rules. Peere is our current Deathsman and it should be he who carries out this sentence.”
“The Reaper is the obvious choice for doing this but think about it. The sister of a kidnapped youth gone bad punishing the man who took him. Nobody knows…” she swallowed hard, “…nobody knows our business and Jack’s role in it. All they know is that his son was rightly charged, sentenced and executed for murder and he wanted revenge. What a story! You always said the narrative was just as important as the actual sentence and this is a story everyone will get behind. You know this is the best solution!” She paused.
This was her first salvo. She’d now listen to what her father had to say and then counter it. She’d surprised herself with the persuasiveness of her words and immediately cringed somewhat. Was her father, right? Was she born for his job sometime in the future? Was she destined to be as twisted as he was? She allowed her mind to wander slightly in the silence, back to a time when her father was different. Was he ever different? After several moments, she came to a conclusion. He was different before, but there were flickerings of the darkness beneath.
“You are not ready for this, Alix,” her father interrupted. “You are not strong enough.” He said it without finality. He wanted her to counter him; to offer him another reason. It was another test. She could tell, she was impressing him with her passion, her arguments and her decisiveness.
“You’re wrong. I am ready. I’ve looked Mad Jack in the eye and told him ‘no’. I’ve seen into him and I know his weaknesses and his strengths.”
“What did you see?” her father asked, a look of genuine fascination lighting his features.
In truth, she’d seen a terrifying specimen of humanity. A mountain of a man who ruled ruthlessly, even if there was some method to his madness. She was not at all certain she could beat him. She just knew that her desire to watch as his blood pours from wounds inflicted by her fists outweighed any sense of fear she had of him.
She looked her father dead in the eye and said “I see a man clinging to a reputation. He is weak. He is the past. I am the future and it’s time the people saw him for what he is; a dying legend and they don’t need to fear him anymore.”
Her father stared at her, a malicious grin spreading across his face. She had impressed him. She had passed one of his tests, a test he did not think she would pass. He was pleased and probably proud of the person he had created.
She felt a turn of sickness in her belly. She was growing more and more unnerved by the ease at which she’d slipped into this role. She feared for her future soul. Would becoming her father and the twisted monster he now was, be just as easy?
“I am impressed, sweetheart,” he said, standing up and walking towards her. She felt an urge to recoil; to shrink back, but the thick recliner made it impossible.
He lifted her hand gently from the armrest, lifted it to his lips and pecked the back of her hand. It was the most fatherly thing he’d done in a long time and suggested to her that she’d finally earned the right, at least for a time, to be his daughter; the daughter he wanted.
He gently laid her hand back on the armrest and went to sit back down, pouring himself another measure before doing so. “You have done well, Alix,” he said. “If you wish to execute Jack, so be it. We’ll begin the narrative immediately and I’ll have my people put the story out to the public. We’ll call it ‘a sister’s love,’” he whispered, waving his hand through the air as if he were painting the words on to the big screen. “You punish your brother’s kidnapper, and afterwards, because the Wardens are impartial and justice is absolute, we will punish your brother as well, for the crimes he’s committed on Strangeways.”
“How…how much will he be punished?” Alix asked. The question had been squatting on her chest since she’d spoken to her brother in the jail cells. What was her father’s plan for him? The possibilities terrified her. Isaac had been abducted to Strangeways to die; a dark stain on the Venner family history, expunged by Mad Jack. It hadn’t gone to plan, and now there was the issue of what to do with Isaac.
The question caught her father off guard, and she spotted a shift of unease in the way he swirled his glass. The rhythm disrupted, bumping over her question as it landed in her father’s ears. “What do you think?” he asked. “You know why he needed to be sent to Strangeways. You know how his behavior and original sin make him unfit for this family. His darkness must be…removed.”
Alix knew it would come to this. He was to be executed as well. “What story will you give?” she asked, her voice quivering as the confirmation of his fate settled on her.
“Didn’t you hear? We recently discovered that Robert Brooks had inside information on where your mother and sister were going to be on the day they were killed. It was someone on the inside. They told Brooks where to wait, gave him the signal to attack, and was going to drive him back to the island when the deed was done. Do you know who that was, Alix?”
That feeling of sickness came back. The words were disgusting in themselves, but it was the ease at which her father spoke them that really twisted the knife home. He didn’t show any flicker of emotion at creating a lie that would condemn his ex-son to death.
Alix had to remind herself that Isaac wasn’t her father’s son. He was a reminder of betrayal and hurt and as her father saw it, a boy who’d had his chance, but his behavior had meant he didn’t deserve to be a part of their family anymore. Did it make a sick sense to her?
She shook the thought away, making sure she didn’t generate any emotion of understanding for her father and his actions. If Isaac deserved execution in the cells, then her father certainly did. “That’s a lie, father! You can’t make up that much of a story. I understand the need for a story to sell to the people, but it can’t be completely made up.”
“It can, if it has to be, Alix,” he replied, a frown germinating on his forehead. She was losing some of the kudos she’d created. If she wasn’t careful, her father would take her reckoning with Mad Jack away from her, denying the chance at vengeance she so desperately wanted.
She tried one final time. “You can’t kill him. The people would understand. He takes his punishment and then he goes back to Strangeways. That’s as good as dead to the people and he wants to go to Strangeways anyway. You both win.”
Her father paused again, mulling over her idea. There was no gleaming pride in his eyes this time. He was thinking of something different.
“OK, Alix,” he finally said. “You will execute Jack. Afterwards, you must sit with me by the cell to watch. You have an unhealthy attachment to that boy, and he doesn’t deserve your affection. We watch him punished together. We watch as our family is cleaned, together. That is my price for your half-brother’s life. Do you agree?”
She agreed instantly. It was a small price to pay but it guarant
eed Isaac’s life and, in a way, happiness. He wanted to live on Strangeways. While they’d been there, she could tell he was simply more at home living there than he was in the city. She didn’t want him to go, but all sides won this way. It was in her control. She watches her brother punished, he goes to Strangeways, her father has his political win. “What if I lose to Jack?” she asked.
“You will not contemplate doing so. A Deathsman must be sure of their abilities before they take life. You will defeat him. You will feel his heart stop under your onslaught. If you are not capable of this, you must not step into the cells with him! Do you understand?”
Alix nodded, feeling a pang of shame at her moment of indecision. After stunning her father by persuading him, she was treading dangerously close to losing her chance.
“It’s settled then, Alix,” her father said, tilting his head back and washing the remnants of his drink down his throat. “I will begin the marketing and media for this immediately. You will be called upon to do several interviews to the media about your bout. We’ll go over what you are to say to them. In the meantime, you have a week. I suggest you train for facing Jack. This is your coming of age, dearest. I wouldn’t disappoint the people. Or me.”
20
Alix was sat in the empty locker room. It had previously been filled with Wardens of all shapes and sizes. Men. Women. It didn’t matter, all were equal in the Wardens. The final one had exited the changing room less than ten minutes ago, wearing their bout gear. It was their turn to deliver justice.
Alix was already dressed, ready for her bout with Mad Jack. Inside, her stomach churned over and over. Last night, she’d felt ready. Even after six weeks of the limited movement, she’d bounced back to full muscle memory remarkably quickly.
She breathed a sigh of relief again for pushing herself during those long days in the cave. It had been so tempting to lie down, close her eyes and not wake up again until the nightmare was over, but she’d forced herself to keep getting up. She’d forced herself to look at the unforgiving stone. She’d forced herself to ignore her half-brother lying in his own bunk, oftentimes ignoring her.
