by Amy Braun
“Never mind, folks,” I said, my eyes never leaving the gigantic man. “I found him.”
The captain smirked and continued to stalk out of the Behemoth’s cockpit– hell, is it just me, or is he getting bigger?– toward me.
“You really must be a Kendric. The two that I knew had the same kind of arrogant, smart-mouth.”
I shrugged. “Part of the family curse, I guess.”
The captain chuckled as he stepped onto the street. The sound sent a shiver down my spine.
The crowd hurried to part for him. Neither Nash nor Gemma ran, but I could hear them shift on their feet. When the captain stopped before me, I had to crane my neck up to look him in the eyes. Otherwise, I would be stuck looking at his bare chest.
“I respected them, you know,” he said. “Your father and brother, since you’re too young to be either. Robertson was merciless on his crew, but he ran a tight ship. An obedient rabble. And Davin…” he shook his head, “Davin was a savage, but he earned his reputation. He knew how to strike fear into everyone, to take risks and reap any reward, no matter how small. A monster, but one we all remembered.” He cocked his head at me, just as I’d done to Thick-neck earlier. “Which one are you?”
“Neither, like you said,” I told him simply. “I want to make you an offer.”
Some of the bolder men and women in the crowd eagerly voiced their opinions about that.
“Don’t listen to him, Crosely!”
“It’s a trick!”
“He’s a fucking Kendric, Crosely!”
The giant man raised his hand to command silence. It fell instantly. He lowered his hand and regarded me. “Is that so?”
I gave him a quick nod.
“What offer could you make that I would possibly be interested in?”
I held his eyes so he knew I was serious.
“Revenge.”
Every marauder leaned in a little bit closer. Crosely was silent and let me continue.
“I have a ship. It’ll fly. I’m going through the Breach to stop the Hellions from coming back.” I didn’t mention that the mission would mainly be a rescue one. The marauders and men like Crosley couldn’t care less about one lone hostage, now matter how important I said she was.
Crosley stared at me long enough to make me think he was considering my offer. I honestly thought he was going to take me up on it. Then he laughed in my face. A deep, belly laugh that echoed across the market district, and probably frightened a few of the watching survivors back into their homes. Some of the other marauders who’d been watching Crosley nervously joined in his guffaws.
I sighed.
By the time he was done, the dozens of marauders circling us were much more at ease than before. Their leader considering the offer of a Kendric no longer bothered them.
Of course, deep down, I knew that Crosley would never go for my offer. No matter how tempting the idea of pummeling some Hellions was to the marauders, survival always won out first. They had their little piece of control back, a smidgen of pride, and they would hold onto it tooth-and-nail.
Still, I had a little hope. It would have made the next part of my plan a lot easier.
“Sometimes I’m glad I’m not a child anymore,” Crosley said once he’d calmed down. “I forget how stupid children can be.”
Gemma nudged the back of my shoulder as she stepped forward. I hurried to nudge her back.
“Let me guess,” Crosley continued to taunt. “You’re going to promise us the wonderful things that come with revenge? Adventure, danger, exploration before bloodshed?”
I crossed my arms. “What else are you going to do with your time?”
Crosley didn’t answer. He simply stared at me as if I were a puzzle he couldn’t quite decipher. “Not seeing a lot of incentive for me, Kendric,” he said. “I like the life I’m living now.” He glanced over his shoulder at the sheared open siding that led into the Behemoth’s cockpit. “And there’s nothing quite like living in the Hellion’s most prized possession.”
I kept my face blank, not wanting to betray the possibility that there could have been more Hellions past the barricades, floating over Aon. He probably wouldn’t have believed me, especially since it was a theory. I had no proof to back it up.
“So you’re staying here? Hiding in the Behemoth and drinking who-knows-what until you’re blind or the Hellions decide to come back and finish us off?” I made a dramatic show of tapping my finger on my chin. “I believe the word for that is cowardice.”
Tense silence filled the air. Crosley’s eyes flashed, his temper starting to break through his tough veneer.
“Be careful, boy,” warned the towering marauder. “I’ve been humoring you so far, but you’re pushing my limits.”
“Why stop now?” I said with a bit too much cheer. I unfolded my arms and shrugged out of my jacket. “Why not making this interesting?” I handed my jacket back to Gemma and started rolling up the white sleeves of my tunic. “I offer you a challenge.”
Crosley’s eyes were still fueled with anger, but he waited for my terms.
“We fight it out, here and now. I win, you and all your miscreants will fight with me against the Hellions.”
The crowd protested angrily at that. Incoherent whispers and aggressive shouts filled the air.
“We won’t go anywhere with you, Kendric,” someone spat from my right.
I glanced in the direction of the voice, though I didn’t know where it came from.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I said casually, “so shut up.”
Amazingly, the mystery person did. I turned my attention back to Crosley, who hadn’t moved an inch. He held up his hand to settle the crowd. When they were silent again, he folded his arms and looked at me coolly.
“And if you lose?”
No point in lying.
“If I lose, I doubt I’ll have any breath to argue with.”
That made Crosley smile. Dread started to pool in my stomach.
While the enormous marauder began to shout for the crowd to move back and give us space, I turned and began removing my weapons. I didn’t look up, but I could sense Gemma’s nerves as her fingers dug into the leather of my coat.
Nash was much more vocal about his opinion.
“Let me fight,” he said. “I’ve had opponents like him in the Crater. I know what to do.”
“Some tips would be nice,” I said, handing over my cutlass and flintlock.
Nash didn’t take them. Worry was naked in his eyes. “Sawyer, don’t do this.”
“Can’t really back down now. I just called him a coward. Having you fight in my stead would be a little ironic and would probably get me killed without respect.”
“Sawyer–”
I shoved my weapons against his chest. Nash clutched them on instinct, his hands carefully missing the curved blade of my sword.
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Which makes you insane.”
I sighed, suddenly tired. The last thing I needed to be when I started fighting the obscenely large man.
“I need this, Nash,” I said quietly. “I need to know I can still pick a fight and win.”
Another reason why I didn’t want any help with this. After everything that happened over the last few months– learning Davin was alive as a Hellion, being beaten by him, learning the truth about the invasion of Hellnore, Riley’s betrayal, losing Claire– I needed to feel like I could still surmount something. By taking the Dauntless to the skies again, I was proclaiming myself a captain. As Gemma suggested, it was time I started acting like one. As Nash suggested, it was time for me to stop hanging onto the name that plagued me from the day I was born.
People believed I was no better than my emotionless father and sadistic brother? Fine. Let me prove them wrong.
Nash, my friend whose loyalty would never come into question, stepped back. He might not like my decision, but he understood it. Respected it.
I turned and faced Crosley. I shook ou
t my wrists and flexed my fingers. Crosley stood in the middle of a circle now fifteen feet in each direction. The crowd had fallen deathly silent. Over their heads, I could see more faces peeking in from distant windows. Survivors with a bird’s-eye view of the coming brawl.
Crosley smiled as I approached him. “If you get scared, tell me.” He dipped his chin, his eyes taking on a menacing glint. “I might stop.”
I stifled a laugh and balled my fists. “I don’t think–”
Nobody that big should be that fast.
I don’t even remember him moving. One second he was standing there, taunting me, the next he was ploughing his fist straight into my face.
The hit sent me stumbling. I blinked to regain my vision, head swimming with pain. I barely saw his next swing. I ducked and let it fly over my head. Crosley’s second fist smashed into my stomach and robbed me of air. He aimed another punch for my gut, but I grabbed his wrist and wrenched it away. The amount of strength in his arm was incredible.
I swung my fist up toward his chin. He batted my hand away and swept his fist for my ribs. I tucked my elbow in, protecting my body from the worst of the hit. I would still get a bruise from it. When he started to pull back, I peeled my elbow from my body and grabbed his other wrist. I now controlled both of his hands.
Crosley snarled and snapped his head toward mine. I twisted my head away, feeling the strike more on my shoulder than on my face.
It also got Crosley too close to me.
I kicked the inside of his knee, jarring him. Then I used my own knee as a battering ram to his stomach.
I got in a few good strikes that winded the big bastard before he wrenched free of my grasp. I darted back at the instant he shot his boot for my chest. I whirled away from the strike, coming up to his side. I snapped out a sharp kick, the toe of my boot slammed into the middle of his collarbone. Crosley barked in rage and pain. He was still growling when he launched his elbow back for my face.
I stepped back and knocked his hand down, holding it low and chopping for his neck.
He caught my hand, and I knew my luck had run out.
Crosley sent another explosive punch into my head. His knuckles cracked against the bone over my left eye, splitting skin. My vision went black for a moment. I lost control of my hands. Thick fingers curled around my neck and squeezed. Lifted me up. Slammed me into the ground. Everything snapped into brutal, punishing clarity at the moment I didn’t want it to.
The moment Crosley started beating me to death.
With my throat trapped by his crushing hand, I could barely breathe, let alone move. I punched at his arm, swung at his face, but my arms were lost in the whirlwind of his right hand. Punch after punch crashed into my face, chin, chest, shoulder, and stomach. There was no direction, no incentive or plan. Every blow was meant to inflict pain, and nothing less.
Crosley was doing a damn good job. My head felt like it was being caved in, my lungs burned, and my chest was now made up of a thousand swelling bruises.
Crosley didn’t stop. He didn’t slow down. He didn’t show mercy.
Somewhere, I could hear screaming. Familiar voices, telling me to get back up. Fight, keep fighting, get up.
Fight.
I had a quick flash, a second to think about all I was about to lose. The defeated faces of the survivors watching my death. Nash and Gemma screaming. Abby sitting alone in the Dauntless. Claire, and the promise I would break to her if I died.
Never being that captain that I intended to be. The one I knew I was.
One second of clarity. It was all I needed.
Crosley raised his fist again, his knuckles stained with my blood. He snarled ferociously as he wound up a punch that would knock out all my teeth if I was lucky, or send them into my skull if I wasn’t.
My jab went straight into his throat. Quick, sharp, and brutal.
The marauder choked and gagged, his energy leaving him as he tried to cough air back into his lungs. He shifted back, easing off my body and letting me slip away. Air tunneled back down my throat in a ragged gasp, filling my lungs until they were swollen. I coughed and embraced the burn. Then I rolled into a crouch, grabbed Crosley’s head, and dashed it against my knee.
Another jolt of pain went through my leg, but I welcomed it. I was running on pure adrenaline now, grabbing onto it with everything I had and praying it would last me until the end of the fight. I wouldn’t get a second wind.
Crosley tilted to the side, catching himself on his elbow. I snapped my heel down into his jaw. Another kick to his shoulder put the larger man on his back. I pounced and did the smart thing. I used my knees to pin his arms to his side. He tried to throw me, but I had both hands free, and wasn’t going to waste one strangling him.
For every bruise he gave me, I repaid him in full. My punches were a flurry, slamming down without restraint. But I knew where to hit. I knew how to hit. Unless he had a near-death epiphany like I did, Crosley wasn’t going to be able to stop me.
I barely stopped myself. It was a conscious effort that kept me from destroying him. I had to remind myself that I needed him to convince his collection of pirates to follow me, in case my little display of ruthlessness wasn’t working. Marauders followed power and respect, but I wasn’t going to kill for them.
There were only two names on my list who would get that special honor.
I slowed down my strikes, then stopped them all together. My arm ached from the amount of use they had gotten. My hands were sore, every knuckle cut open and bleeding, but it didn’t feel like they were broken. I settled back and looked down at the blocky, pulped mess of Crosley’s face. Blood streaked it in wild patterns, stained his teeth, and dribbled out of the corners of his mouth. His eyelids were puffy and red. He groaned, swiveling his head from left to right, like he was waking up and couldn’t remember where he was.
I got off the marauder and stepped back. Stumbled, if I was being honest. Before I collapsed, strong arms caught my shoulders. I whirled around, balling my fists and snarling at the person who dared step into the ring.
My hand and temper relaxed when I saw Nash’s steady brown eyes. He frowned at my injuries, waited until he was sure I could stand on my own, then let me go. I took a deep breath and stayed where I was.
Adrenaline faded into pain. The muscles in my hands, arms, and legs ached. My chest was tender with bruises. A thunderstorm pounded through my head. Blood seeped down the corner of my left eye, from my nose, and my lower lip. I was breathing regularly now, though my throat still felt like a noose had been lashed around it.
Wiping the blood from my face, I turned and looked at Crosley. He was still on the ground, rolling slowly to get to his feet. Gemma helped me into my jacket as I watched him rise.
“Now that that’s over,” I said with a ragged voice. I swallowed, hoping to clear it, “are you going to accept my offer?”
Crosley’s bloody lips peeled back. He looked like he would rather eat nails than agree to anything I said. But he had to find a way to save face with the other marauders. I’d done the impossible and overcome him. There would be no re-matches. He would either join with me and be seen as a pliant leader, or he would try to kill me and be seen as a liar to his own people. Marauders were liars and cheats to their core, but honor was valued among us.
So I was undeniably surprised when Crosley held out his hand to shake mine.
