Book Read Free

K: The Awakening (The Shadow Chronicles Book 1)

Page 22

by K. R. Fajardo


  “And what if they plan to kill us anyway? Do you really think they are just going to leave and trust us to keep their secrets?” Rigar retorted, his hands still firmly locked around Jarod’s head.

  “I don’t know. My hope is that Jaron and K won’t allow him to kill us, they don’t seem to be the types that take pleasure in wiping out entire families,” Mikel answered unsurely, “but I know what happens if you do this.”

  Jarod laid there smiling, his eyes gleaming, “Last chance. Grow a spine and quit taking orders from the Terrian. Do it now!”

  Rigar looked down at Jarod, hands still encircling his skull, his eyes once again scanning over the damage done to him by the Shadows. “No, not like this.” He released his grasp and backed away from the bed, uncertainty creasing his brow. “I have to go,” he muttered, looking to Mikel. “I’m going to stay home tonight.”

  Mikel nodded and watched Rigar walk through the door, waiting for it to close behind him before angrily confronting Jarod, “What is wrong with you? Why would you do that? Why tempt him that way? What if he had killed you?”

  A sadistic laugh bellowed from deep inside Jarod. “He can’t kill me, he doesn’t have the spine for it. The Shadows have made quite sure of that.”

  Mikel had had enough, his body rigid and tense with anger, he confronted the man lying restrained before him. “Just because he won’t sink himself to killing someone who can’t fight back doesn’t mean he is weak. He has endured working on that road day after day, year after year, only to have his rations cut time and again to the point that there isn’t enough to feed him and his family. I have seen him go for weeks without formula and still continue working so he can keep his wife and daughter healthy, never once complaining. That is real strength.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jarod laughed, “but what is he going to do the day I knock on his door and carry that wife and daughter of his to the Tower? He will be forced to live with the knowledge that he had the opportunity to stop me for good and didn’t. What good will his ‘strength’ be then?”

  Words escaped him as Mikel stood with his mouth gaped. Was it possible for someone to be truly that evil? Would he really come for Rigar’s family just like that, because he could? Dumbfounded, he walked across the room in a daze. Perhaps it would have been better if Rigar had snapped his neck and rid the world of his presence. What am I still doing in here? he thought, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck as Jarod resumed his ranting behind him, “Now get these damn chains off me.”

  “You have got to be kidding me! After all that, you think I’m going to let you go?” Mikel exclaimed slumping into the chair. “Nope, I am going to sit here, drink my coffee, and wait for Jaron to come back down those stairs. Then he can take you and K, and you all can get the hell out of my clinic.”

  Infuriated, Jarod pulled and struggled against the chains. Mikel could hear a few more giving in, but for the most part they seemed to be holding him. He said nothing, as he sat quietly back into the chair and watched the massive man continue to pull and jerk against the chains time after time. Finally after a while he settled down and stopped fighting. Mikel remained silent, watching as his heavy breathing began to settle until he gave a deep sigh.

  “What do you want from me?” he asked in a quiet, calm voice.

  “I don’t want anything from you,” Mikel answered, staring down at the floor, then rethinking continued, “No, I take that back, I want you to leave my clinic and promise me that you will never return for me or any of my family or friends. You have taken so much already, first my wife, then Janil, and now you have injured my daughter as well. All we do here is offer help to those in need and yet you keep coming back and punishing us for it. What are we doing that is so wrong?”

  Jarod relaxed little by little while he spoke; taking in every word he was saying and processing it. He was no longer fighting the chains, his body and voice completely relaxed. “You give people hope,” he answered, his gaze locked on the ceiling above him, “and hope is a dangerous thing to those who desire to rule by fear.”

  Mikel had never heard him speak this way; a sadness and despair had crept into his voice, replacing the anger from just a few seconds prior. Once again he approached the bed, but Jarod refused to look at him as he continued, “That’s my job, to destroy any and all signs of hope, no matter how futile they may seem. And I am damn good at it, don’t you think?” Hopelessness filled the black void of his eyes as he stared at the ceiling above him. “I know you want me dead, that you all want me dead. So why not do everyone a favor and do it? Take over and finish the job your daughter and your friend couldn’t.”

  Mikel stared down at the man, asking him to end his life. How many times had he and so many others not only talked about but planned the death of the Enforcer, sat for hours discussing how much better their lives would be if someone could do away with him? And now here he was, laid out before him, asking him to do the task so many others would jump at the opportunity of doing, the very task he had begged Rigar not to do.

  “I am not going to lie to you,” Mikel paused, looking him over, “the thought has crossed my mind on many occasions.” But as he looked at him now, instead of seeing the giant killer that he normally would have seen, he saw a broken man begging for an end to his misery. He couldn’t begin to imagine what his life was like inside that Tower, but it was as clear as the scars on his chest, that he definitely hadn’t been living the life of leisure as they all had assumed.

  “You’re not my enemy,” Mikel responded after some time. “I thought you were, but the real enemy is locked away, hiding while you are out here fighting their battles for them; forced to defend yourself both inside and outside of the Tower.” Mikel studied him carefully, trying to read him for some sort of emotion other than the anger he so blatantly used as a shield. “So do me a favor and answer something for me. Why are you going back? You have found K, completed your mission according to Jaron. Why not leave here with him and K and actually use your gifts to help the people you have spent so long terrorizing?”

  His face went blank as he seemed to give the question some consideration. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure, because trust me, nobody hates the Shadows more than I do. What I wouldn’t give to get my hands on the three of them and end their pathetic lives. But even with all my strength, I’m not strong enough, and I never will be.”

  There was a certain amount of defeat in the way he was spoke. Mikel knew it wasn’t easy for him to admit his vulnerability, and he couldn’t help but feel a small amount of pity welling up inside.

  “But K can, once her strength has returned to her, they won’t stand a chance. So, it is up to me to give K the time she needs, which means I have to go back to the Tower and back to being the Enforcer, at least for a while longer.” He paused and looked Mikel dead in his eye. “And that means more innocent people, like your friend, possibly even you or your daughter, will need to be sacrificed.”

  The tone of his voice and the seriousness in his eyes sent a chill through Mikel. “Well, I guess all we can do is hope it doesn’t come to that. Not only for us, but for you as well, because with each innocent person you kill, I fear you are losing more and more of this side of yourself.”

  “Perhaps you are right.” He sighed, his whole body relaxing a little more into the bed. “It may be too late already. The longer I stay there the deeper I feel myself descending into the darkness, and soon, it will take me over completely. And when that day finally arrives, because it will, Jaron or K will be forced to carry out the task you and your friends were unwilling to. My only hope is that I can at least keep it together long enough to bear witness to the Shadows’ end.”

  His tone calm and his body relaxed, Mikel decided this might be the best opportunity to retry asking Jaron’s question one more time. “Can you tell me?” Mikel asked calmly. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

  Jarod, with his gaze locked on the ceiling, furrowed his brow in concentration. “I was walking a
way from the girl, Citera. I was getting angry and was afraid I would do something to hurt her. But she was angry also, because of the lady I took from here, and she was crying.” He closed his eyes as he struggled to recall the events. “She said something, something that triggered the darkness, then …” He shook his head. “I don’t remember anything after that, it’s all black.”

  When he reopened his eyes; it was apparent he knew he had harmed Citera, but to what extent, he wasn’t sure. He turned away from Mikel, unable to face him as he finally got the nerve to ask, “Is she … did I …” It was a rare view of the Enforcer that few, if any, had seen before, a side of him that felt guilt and remorse.

  “You bit her and her ribs are broke, but she is will live, thanks to K and Jaron intervening,” Mikel explained. “And I suppose we have confirmed the rumors about what happens in the Tower to be true. Anyway, you need to remember what it was she said, Jaron said so. And I am a little curious as well, what exactly did she say that made you so angry?”

  A mixture of guilt and relief rushed over his face. “The truth,” he answered somberly. “She called me the demon Reaper, the Shadows’ slave who does all their killing for them. And I think she threw in something about being a mindless coward.” He half laughed. “She really tells it like it is.”

  Mikel grinned. “Yeah, she got that from her mom.” He moved to begin undoing the straps holding him down. “Well, you answered the questions and you’re not threatening to kill the whole clinic anymore, I guess that means I can let you out of these.”

  “Mind if I help?” a soft voice asked from the doorway. They had been so busy in conversation neither had noticed Citera opening the door. She stepped into the room, addressing Jarod, “If it’s all right with you of course.”

  Jarod lifted his head to get a better view of her. Spotting the bandage to her neck, he sighed deeply, locking his eyes back on the ceiling. “I apologize for what happened, I lost control and it almost cost you your life.”

  Citera stood clutching her side as she approached the bed. “I’m sorry as well. I pushed you to that point and I knew better, I shouldn’t have said the things that I did.”

  She joined her father and the two of them began working on the restraints. They were about to finish, when Jaron came casually strolling into the room followed by Dirik. “Oh good, we’re all better.”

  “Yeah, and where were you? I know you heard me calling you,” Mikel barked at Jaron, then at Dirik, “And why didn’t you come back?”

  “He told me not to,” Dirik retreated back a few steps pointing at Jaron. “He wouldn’t let me.”

  Jaron smiled. “It’s true, I left the two of you here alone on purpose. There were some issues you needed to work out if we are going to stay here. Anyway, he needed someone besides me to help him face the truth of what he did. He is too familiar with me and my ways, and can trick me into thinking he’s back even when he’s not.”

  Mikel and Citera released the last of the restraints and stepped away from the bed. Jarod swung his legs around to sit on the edge, rubbing his badly bruised and bleeding wrists. “I need to go, I can’t stay here anymore.”

  “And where are you going to go?” Citera asked, joining her dad at his side. “Its broad daylight, you can’t leave now.”

  “Then I will leave at dusk,” he responded. “I have to return, my two weeks are almost up.” In his mind all he could think about was the task that lay before him. He had spent the last two weeks trying to figure out a way to avoid going for Maya and her father, but he knew if he went back without them then the Shadows would just send the patrols for them and then force him to carry out their execution to prove his allegiance. It would have been better if they had killed me, he thought as jumped off the bed to stand. As soon as his feet hit the floor his head began to spin out of control, causing him to lose his balance and go crashing to the floor.

  “It doesn’t look as if you are going anywhere,” Jaron said, extending him a hand. Jarod held his head in one hand as he grabbed ahold of Jaron’s with the other.

  “What did you do to me? I feel like I’ve been drained,” he muttered as he struggled to get back on his feet without success; instead he crawled back into the bed using what little strength remained in his arms.

  “You can blame me for that.” K made her way inside to join the group gathered in this one room, “I drained a good portion of your energy when I knocked you out.” She then turned her attention to Dirik. “Mind giving a lady a hand?”

  “Oh sure,” Dirik answered, coming to her assistance and helping her to the chair.

  “You should be resting. You used up what little strength you got from me last night,” Jaron frowned, rubbing his healed wrist. “And I can’t give you anymore, I’m still dizzy myself.”

  “You worry too much,” K answered, blowing him off as she relaxed into the chair. “It will build back up slowly. Plus, I have spent the last fifty years imprisoned, so forgive me if I lack the desire to sit in that tiny room alone. Anyway, as I was saying, I drained your strength, but you should be back to normal by morning.”

  “Tomorrow morning!” Jarod protested, “I don’t have that much time, I need to leave tonight.” Remembering he still had one vial of red formula with him and turned to Jaron. “Where is my jacket?”

  “What do you need it for?” Jaron argued. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Just give me my damn jacket, and while you’re at it find me a shirt,” he barked back at him. Begrudgingly Jaron walked to one of the cabinets, pulled out a bag and the jacket, and threw them both at Jarod. “Here, find your own damn shirt.”

  Jarod dug around in the bag, and finding a black shirt pulled it out and slipped it on over his head, before turning his attention to the jacket. Frantic, he searched through the pockets until he came across the red vial he was looking for.

  “That won’t work,” K said as she sat leisurely in the chair.

  “What?”

  “It won’t work. I didn’t injure your body, just drained some energy,” she answered in the same calm tone. “That stuff is made to heal bodily injuries, and since your body isn’t injured, it won’t work. But feel free to try if you don’t believe me.”

  It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her, just that he couldn’t stand being rendered helpless and weak. I have to try, he thought to himself as he popped the top and took a swig. He could feel the formula coursing through his veins and the warmth of the healing as it reached the wounds on his neck and wrists. He sat for a minute longer, trying to give the formula plenty of time to do its job, then laying the vial on the bed bedside him, attempted once again to get to his feet. But as K had said the dizziness remained and he again found himself forced to sit back down. Becoming angrier and angrier at the situation and his inability to control it, he picked up the vial beside him to throw it across the room, when a swell of voices yelled out at him, “No!”

  The whole room was staring at him as he held the vial tightly in his grasp. Mikel approached him cautiously. “Please, don’t throw that. There are people that would give anything for a chance to cure a loved one, like the boy you saw the last time you were here. If you don’t want it, please let me have it.” Slightly perplexed by all the interest in the tiny vial, Jarod slowly lowered his arm and dropped the vial into Mikel’s hands. Mikel turned away, cradling the vial as if it was one of the most precious items in Vanteria, frightened of spilling even one drop of the valuable contents.

  Meanwhile, Jarod slumped down in the bed. “In the morning?”

  “Yep,” K answered, watching the scene play out with great interest. “Why don’t you give little to your daughter, to fix her ribs?”

  Mikel’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Give formula to my daughter? She isn’t a Full-blood, it would kill her.”

  Taking an interest in the conversation once again, Jarod perked up and glared at Citera beneath raised eye brows. “You didn’t tell him?” She shook her head rapidly while waving at Jarod to be quiet,
but it was too late.

  Mikel, quick to catch on that there was something going on that he was obviously unaware of, scanned nervously around the room. “What didn’t she tell me?”

  Laughing, Jarod laid down in his bed, propping his feet up on the foot board. “This should be good.”

  “Dad,” Citera began, awkwardly wringing her hands in front of her, “remember the medicine I said helped to heal you and wake you up,” she paused, reluctant to tell him the truth, “well it wasn’t Janil’s paste like I led you believe.”

  She didn’t need to say anymore. “Red formula?” he asked, glancing back and forth between Citera and Jarod, eyes stretched wide. “You let him give me red formula? Why, by the stars, would you let him do something like that?” Panic filled his voice as he struggled with the new information, desperately searching for some kind of medical rational for what he was being told. “I mean, how did you know it wouldn’t kill me, how did you know he wasn’t trying to kill me?”

  “Dad, you were dying, I had to try something,” Citera interjected in her own defense.

  Jarod lay in the bed staring at the ceiling, appearing annoyed by all the commotion. “If I was trying to kill you, you would be dead.”

  “Jarod,” Jaron snapped. “I apologize for my companion, of his many great talents tact is not one. Anyway, what he is trying to say, in his own way, is that he has rescued and healed many Terrians and Full-bloods from the Tower using the red formula. It won’t harm your daughter because she has been bitten, just like it didn’t harm you.”

  “Bitten? What does that mean, what have you done to us?” Mikel asked, his panicked voice raising several octaves.

 

‹ Prev