Mikel, anxious to help in some way, reached out and took ahold of her arm before she was able to move away. It was then he realized why she had been insisting that he not touch her, for once his hand made contact with the bare skin of her arm, he felt a rush of energy cross from her body into his.
It was like nothing he had ever experience, as a cold sensation crept slowly up his arm and into his torso. Looking down, her blue eyes stared up at him with an almost apologetic expression. He struggled desperately to free his hand from her arm, but try as he might he quickly realized that he no longer was in control of his own body. Little by little the chill crept through every inch of his rigid frame until the force had consumed him and obliterated his senses. His eyes being the last to go as the room around him faded to black.
Instead of seeing the comforting familiar walls of the clinic, the image of a prison cell came into focus as his eyes adjusted to their new surroundings. He struggled to look around the dark frightening place of stone and bars, but when he attempted to get up from the chair he was sitting in, he was surprised to discover that his wrists and legs were shackled to the chair.
Panic consumed him and he struggled desperately to free himself as the metal manacles cut into his wrists and sent pain shooting up his arms. A movement in one corner caught his attention and with it a flash of hope as he realized he was not alone in the cell. He called out, begging the man for help, for him to release him from the chains and tell him where he was.
The man, dressed in a uniform Mikel did not recognize, came out of the shadows and approached. And as he neared, all the hopes Mikel had of being rescued faded away as he noticed the knife tightly gripped in his hand. Panicked, Mikel began to struggle harder against the bonds holding him in the chair. The man continued to approach, yelling angrily at him in a language he didn’t understand. He begged and pleaded for mercy, but the soldier wasn’t having any of it. Now only a few feet away from him, he raised the knife into the air and in one quick motion brought it down, slicing it across his face and eye. Mikel yelled out in pain and the man laughed. Smirking, he then kicked him hard in the shin, breaking the bone, before walking from the cell laughing triumphantly at Mikel’s suffering. Blood poured from the wound and his leg throbbed. It took only minutes for his clothes to become saturated and soon his blood was dripping to the floor below. And as he sat there, alone and in pain, his one and only thought before everything went dark, was of Citera and how she was going to survive now that both of her parents were gone.
Chapter 4
The Enforcer
The Enforcer navigated his way through the nearly deserted streets of Vicaris, watching amusingly as what few people remained outside, finishing up their daily tasks, quickly retreated back into their homes upon catching sight of him. None of it bothered him, after over fifty years of serving as the Shadows judge and executioner, he expected no less. He had lied to the inspectors back at the clinic about having more work to get done in town, the real reason he had stayed behind was to get a better look, alone, at the female patient, though he didn’t mind the opportunity to get a break from them and their incessant babbling.
He was tired of being forced to listen as they whined endlessly about having to travel from one place to the other doing inspections; not to mention their self-righteous boosts of how vital they were in serving the Shadows greater good. The fools, they knew nothing of real work. Not a one of them would last a day on the road where they helped force the Full-bloods to labor, day in and day out. He was so sick and tired of it all, that the long walk back to the Tower alone in the morning would seem like a vacation.
He rounded the corner and proceeded into an alley, a short cut he believed to the other side of town, where he hoped he could find a room for the night. He could make it back to the Tower tonight if he wanted, but he was in no hurry to get back and the Shadows would give him a couple of days before they sent someone to find out what was going on. But none of that would be necessary. All he wanted was one day in which he would not be expected to arrest, interrogate, or execute anyone, and one night away from the Tower where the screams of his own kind being tortured and killed wouldn’t wake him from his sleep.
By the time he reached the end of the alley and turned down a cobblestone road, the sun had made its way below the horizon; leaving him only the light of the solar lamps to guide him. He was fairly certain that at the end of the road there was a garden, as well as a cluster of small dining establishments and pubs where he hoped he could negotiate his way into a room and with luck get some rest. The Enforcer had almost reached the end of the road when he was overwhelmed by the feeling that something was off. He paused and scanned the street. His vision at night was nearly as clear as his day vision, and yet the street appeared to be deserted. However, his instincts told him otherwise.
“I suggest you seriously rethink whatever it is you are planning,” he called into the darkness. “It will not end well for any of you.”
In the distance a group of Full-bloods stepped out onto the road and into the light of a nearby street lamp. There appeared to be about ten of them, none of them much older than their physical age and from their ragged clothes and the dirt that covered them, he guessed them to be members of the road crew.
One of the group, most likely the leader, stepped forward. “What are you doing out here all alone? Don't you know it’s dangerous? There have been a lot of high ranking Full-bloods getting robbed lately.” The group behind him began to smile and snicker, while the leader gave them a slight wave to quiet down.
“Is that so?” The Enforcer responded calmly as he scanned them over, taking a careful inventory of the group and its weapons. The majority of them held tools from the job site, however a couple of them had knives, and the leader had what appeared to be a long sword. Satisfied that none amongst them posed him any real danger, the Enforcer began walking forward as he spoke, “Well, I am only going up a couple more blocks to get a room for the night, so while I appreciate your concern, I believe I will be fine.”
“Well, in that case, why don’t you allow us to escort you there? It would be our pleasure,” the young Full-blood said as he and his group continued to block the end of the road. “Of course we wouldn’t turn down any compensation you might want to offer in return, say that nice coat you are wearing. It looks like it is very warm.”
As dark as it was and as calm as they seemed, the Enforcer was certain the group had yet to realize who it was they were talking to, as most of the town had assumed he left with the inspectors. He continued walking forward until he reached a street lamp, stepped into its beam, and paused. “I do not need an escort and I am more than capable of taking care of myself. As for my coat, well, I’m afraid it might be a little big for any amongst you.”
His plan worked, the group recognized him immediately and began whispering to each other in a frenzy. He could hear some of what they were saying, the bulk of the discussion being about whether or not the ten of them could take on this one Enforcer, while others were smartly entertaining the idea of running in different directions, increasing their odds of survival. The leader, however, quickly worked to regain control of his group. “We have a celebrity in our midst, men, show some manners,” he said before turning to address the Enforcer, “I hear you made an arrest at the clinic today.”
“It is my job,” the Enforcer answered without batting an eye. He could tell from the tone in the young man’s voice that this robbery was about to become something else entirely.
“Did you know that the people who run that clinic have saved each one of our lives on more than one occasion? They are good people and they help anyone and everyone that walks through the door, most of the time for free. What could they have possibly done that warranted one of them getting arrested?”
“They broke the law and were arrested for the crime committed. If they are not guilty, it will come out in interrogation,” the Enforcer responded, keeping his face straight and emotionless. He had no desire t
o provoke these young Full-bloods into battle, he desired nothing more than to make it to the garden at the end of the street. “Now, if you don’t mind, I will continue on my way.”
However, the anger in the group continued to grow, fueled by the ranting of their leader, “You are full of shit! We all know how your justice works, you will make all the evidence you need to find someone guilty. No one ever comes out of that Tower alive.”
The Enforcer, facing the fact that a confrontation was inevitable, began walking slowly toward the group. “Since you already know I have made several arrests today, you should be made aware that I have no intentions on making anymore. That being said, anyone else I come across breaking the law today can and will be executed on the spot. So can I strongly suggest you all surrender your cause while I am still feeling generous and go home?”
The group appeared to be wavering but their leader remained strong in front, feeding confidence to the rest. “Don’t be afraid of his threats, there are more of us and he is unarmed. We will never get another opportunity like this. Just think, if we kill him they will make heroes of us all.”
And with that he lunged forward, his group following close behind him. The Enforcer had no weapons on him, he rarely did. Instead he used his speed to dodge the swinging tools, and moved from the center of the group to come up behind the leader. The speed and nimbleness with which he moved, especially for a man of his size, took the leader off guard and he desperately swung his sword around, aiming for the Enforcer’s head. He bent backwards out of the way, dodging the swing and allowing the sword to barely clear his face. He then spun around with a kick and sent the leader flying across the road, slamming into the wall of a nearby building. Two more were coming at him from both sides, so he jumped into the air and landed behind the one on the left. Taking ahold of his head he snapped it around, breaking the spinal cord and severing the life of the Full-blood. The second, infuriated at the sight of his comrade being disposed of so easily, came at him with a sledge hammer and took a hard swing at him. The Enforcer rolled out of the way and kicked out his leg, knocking the attacker off his feet. He reached out in attempt to grab ahold of the hammer, but sensing movement behind him, turned in time to let a knife that had been thrown at his back fly past him, slicing his arm. A stream of blood began to flow down his arm from the gash it made, pooling on the ground beside him.
The leader, who had finally managed to get back to his feet, laughed as he addressed his friends, “You see, he’s not invincible, he can be killed just like the rest of us.”
“Oh now, I wouldn’t say all that,” the Enforcer said with a smirk that sent the leader into a frantic rage.
He came running full force across the street, sword in hand, wanting nothing more than to be the hero who killed the Enforcer. The Enforcer merely waited, and when he was close enough, he soared into the air, landing directly on top of the man, and twisted his head with such force that it pulled loose from his body. He then stood in the middle of the street, the lifeless body at his feet and the head in his hand, staring down the rest of the group who had frozen in their tracks.
“Anyone else want to press their luck?” he yelled at the paralyzed group, but not a one dared to move a muscle. “I thought not. If I hear about any more thefts or attacks on Full-bloods in this area, I will come back for each of you and personally haul you and your families back to the Tower. Now go.”
The group instantly scattered in every direction. He waited patiently until they all had dispersed, then took a moment to take in the scene around him. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, violence had a way of following him. He took a deep breath in and sighed as he dropped the head of the fallen attacker by its body. There will be repercussions for this, he thought as he resumed his journey down the street.
It was his job to enforce the Shadows’ laws by any means necessary, but beheading someone with his bare hands might have taken it a little too far. I suppose I should let someone know, he thought, focused on the road in front of him. There should be a patrol passing through the garden that he could notify of the mess he had made, maybe he could even take a few moments to relax while he waited.
Rounding the corner at the end of the road, his destination came into view. Lit in the darkness of the night by the soft glow of the solar lamps, the garden before him looked like a surreal image from a dream. He felt himself being drawn in, the soft glow inviting him to come, sit for a while, and forget. Forget your sins, forget the Shadows and inspectors, forget the screams in the night, forget it all and stay with me, it seemed to say.
He walked past the flowers beds, who despite being unable to woo him with their vibrant colors, decided instead to win him over with their fresh fragrances. He walked past the hedges cut into a variety of geometrical shapes and designs, past the small fence placed around the grass to keep people from trampling it, and over to one of the benches near the fountain. Taking a seat, he draped his long arms across the back of the bench, and looked up toward the top of the fountain where there stood a statue of a soldier sitting bravely atop a stallion. The man’s face was harsh and firm, holding a sword high in the air while his horse reared up on its hind legs, prepared to carry them both into some unknown, long forgotten battle. He had no idea who the man was supposed to be, most likely someone from a time even before his own. It had to have been centuries since any battles as daunting as the one this horseman appeared to be riding so fearlessly into had occurred.
He had been sitting there for a while, so enthralled with the scenery and the sounds of the flowing water, that he didn’t noticed the two patrol officers coming across the park until they were on him.
An older, senior officer placed his hand on the Enforcer’s shoulder, triggering an instinctual response. He was over the bench and on top of the officer, with his hand pulled back, prepared to deal a fatal blow, before either of them had an opportunity to process who the other was. The younger officer with him, shaken by the sight of his partner being taken to the ground, reached for his sword, but was swiftly waved off by the senior officer. The Enforcer glanced down at the man pinned under him, then at his young partner’s stunned face, and realizing what had happened, released him.
“You surprised me, I apologize if I caused you any harm,” the Enforcer said, dusting himself off.
The man pulled himself to his feet. “Not as sorry as I am. I didn’t realize you were still in town, sir. We all assumed you left with the inspectors.” He paused, looking around the garden as if he half expected them to jump out from behind one of the bushes. Appearing relieved when nothing else happened, he continued, “We were patrolling the area to enforce the curfew when we saw you sitting here. I just assumed you were another Full-blood staying out past time.”
The Enforcer glowered down at the both of them, “I am.”
“Well, sir, you may be a Full-blood, but you are also one of us. We all serve to promote and reinforce the Shadows’ greater good,” the officer responded proudly.
The Enforcer remained silent; he wasn’t sure if he was more disturbed by being called “one of them” or by the insinuation that anything they were doing was for good. Either way he decided to change the subject.
“You should patrol down that street over there next. There are two bodies down there,” he said, gesturing toward the street he had just come from. “You might want to call for someone to come and pick them up.”
The officers glanced at each other and back at the Enforcer. “Bodies, sir?”
“Did I stutter? Yes, bodies. A group of Full-bloods challenged me and I killed two of them,” he responded flatly, trying to reign in his volatile temper. He didn’t like having to explain himself to anyone, much less two petty patrol officers.
“Of course, we will get someone there right away,” the officer replied, then turned to the younger one. “Go back to headquarters, tell them what happened, and have them send a cart and patrol down there to gather the bodies.” Without hesitation the young offic
er nodded and took off down the road, leaving his partner alone with the Enforcer.
“Do you need me to take you to the physician?” the senior officer offered, pointing at the gash on the Enforcer’s arm.
He had completely forgotten about it. But looking down at the gash now, he realized it was much deeper than he originally thought, made evident by a very large pool of blood that had formed on the ground beside him.
Sighing as if bothered by his own bleeding, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a vial. “No, that won’t be necessary,” he answered, taking a drink of the red healing formula inside. He could feel the warmth of the liquid course through his veins until it reached the wound, then with the intensity of a burning iron being stuck to his arm, all the warmth settled into the gash, and in seconds it was gone.
The officer watched in amazement. “I’ve never seen anyone healed with the red formula before. Does it always work so fast?”
“Only on minor injuries,” the Enforcer mumbled, looking back toward the fountain. “Is there an inn nearby? I will need somewhere to stay tonight.”
“On the other side of the garden there is one that’s run by a Full-blood family. Good people, never been in any trouble.” The officer was pointing past the fountain to some lights on the other side. “Do you need me to get you anything?” He paused, trying to find a way to finish the sentence without being offensive to the massive Full-blood standing in front of him. “Have you umm … fed today? If not we keep formula at the patrol office, or I could talk to the inn keeper about putting whatever you need on the patrol’s tab if you would like.”
“I’ll be fine.” The Enforcer grumbled as he turned to walk away. The red formula he drank would hold him over until the morning, but he did not feel the need to explain this to the officer. “If you need me for any reason, I will be at the inn.”
K: The Awakening (The Shadow Chronicles Book 1) Page 6
