Sentinel

by Emerald Dodge

  My hand throbbed, and already my arm felt cooler than it should’ve been. I wasn’t dizzy yet, but soon I’d begin to feel the effects of blood loss.

  Still, I hated to be separated from my team again, especially when we were in the company of weird, unknown people. Though my brother was among them, I didn’t know who they were or what they did.

  “I’ll go with you,” I said. “But Ember is coming, too. Reid, guard Marco.”

  “That’s fine. Ember, you’ll ride pillion with Graham, my acting SIC. Jillian, you’ll be with me.”

  As Dean went to get the horses, my team huddled around me.

  “Who are these people?” Ember hissed. “What is going on?”

  I massaged my temples. “I don’t know. All I know is that they hate Westerners, and at least some of them have powers.”

  Reid’s eyebrows flew up. “They hate Westerners?”

  “Yeah. I’m not sure why, though.”

  Reid thought for a minute. “I’d say that any enemy of the Westerners is a friend of ours. Maybe we just all got off on the wrong foot.”

  Ember let out a little gasp. “That was fast. These people are violent. I don’t want to be friends with them.”

  A headache was beginning to blossom in the center of my forehead. “We’re violent, too. But that’s not the point. Back at their camp we’ll figure out what’s going on and then make a decision. Nobody antagonize them, okay?”

  “Fine,” Ember muttered.

  Reid was watching John Carl and Bobby approach with a canvas stretcher, his expression turning thoughtful. He let go of Ember’s hand and walked toward them. I heard him offer his assistance.

  Ember balked.

  “Let’s go.” I pulled Ember toward the horses. A pleasant-looking brown-haired man standing near a black horse introduced himself as Graham and politely explained to Ember how to ride behind him. He helped her onto the horse’s saddle.

  Dean swung himself up onto his chocolate-colored horse and offered me his hand. “Since you’re injured, you sit in front of me so I’ll hold onto you. Less risk of falling that way.”

  Rolling my eyes, I accepted his aid and jumped up onto the horse in front of him. I disliked the experience immediately, from the feeling of the horse’s spine under me to the disgusting smell of the animal. Everything about this day was terrible, and I wanted to go home.

  Dean drew me to his chest. “Christiana!” he yelled over his shoulder. “We’re taking two!”

  “No problem, Dean,” a woman’s voice called from somewhere unseen.

  Graham and Ember trotted up to us while we walked through the trees.

  “Gregory’s told us a lot about you,” Graham said, his neck gaiter puffing a little with each word. “And we’ve heard a little about what’s happened in Saint Catherine. You’re Battlecry, right?”

  Dean pulled up his neck gaiter. “Yep, this is the one we’ve been hearing about. What were the chances that it was you in the container?”

  He lightly kicked the horse with his heels, and the horse trotted a little quicker through the trees, toward the open field in the distance. I was surprised to realize that the pounding of the hooves wasn’t unpleasant now that I’d gotten used to it.

  When we exited the tree line, the horses broke into a gallop and I almost smiled.

  It was as if the veil of anger, shock, and pain that clouded my mind was suddenly removed. The freezing morning air made my eyes water as we raced toward the east, where the sun peeked over the horizon, spreading rays of pink and orange across the clear sky. The horses’ hooves echoed around the hillsides, earthy and solid.

  I closed my eyes against the wind and let myself enjoy the speed which, while less than that of the airplane’s, was incredible. Though I could hear the steady pounding of the horses’ hooves against the hardened earth, the smooth motion of the horse made it seem as though we were flying.

  Pure power coursed through me. I sat up as much as I could. Dean held me tighter against his warm chest.

  We traveled a few miles to the east, then turned south, over a hillside that was unusually green and lush for the season. A campsite was nestled between two hills, filled with large tents made of thick canvas, perhaps thirty in all. A frozen stream wound its way through the camp. More men, and a few women, attended to early morning chores.

  Dean slowed the horse to a walk at the edge of camp, jumped off, and carefully lowered me. My thighs ached.

  Next to us, Graham helped Ember down. He gave her a genuine smile of appreciation when she took his hand, and I thought I saw spots of pink bloom in her cheeks.

  A large growl from my stomach reminded me of the gnawing hunger there. “Graham, please bring Ember to the mess tent, or wherever it is you eat.” As they walked by me, I put a hand on Ember’s shoulder. “I’ll join you as soon as I’ve seen the doctor.”

  She nodded and left with Graham, who asked if she liked pancakes. She brightened, and they were still chatting as they disappeared into a large tent.

  I was left alone with Dean, and my mood plummeted. “No more delays, Monroe. Where’s the doctor?”

  Dean pointed down the crude path beaten by boots and trucks. “Just over there.” We walked toward a white tent in the distance that had a large red cross painted on the side. “You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

  “Yeah, right, okay.” I doubted I’d ever be truly fine again—there was a literal hole in my hand—but maybe the doctor had painkiller.

  Dean grinned crookedly at me. “This has been such a wild couple of days. You and Gregory aren’t even the first shocking sibling reunion, though I have to say yours was the more exciting. I thought you two were going to kill each other, if we didn’t kill you first.”

  “I’m deeply moved by your concern.”

  Dean just laughed. “We’re here. Oh, I hope you don’t mind some coughing and sneezing. The flu is going around the camp.” He stepped through the flap of the tent. “Hey, doc! Got a bullet wound for you.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not a doctor.”

  I shoved Dean aside so hard he fell into a muddy puddle.

  Their “doctor” was Benjamin.

  Benjamin locked eyes with me, then dashed to my side and touched my face. Warm, tingling energy washed through my body, and the pain in my hand dissipated. I felt the plug of cotton pop out of my hand, and when I unwound the neck gaiter I was met with a smooth, uninjured palm.

  I wiggled my fingers and smiled. “Good as new, like always.”

  “I shouldn’t have had to heal you.” He glowered at Dean. “Did any more of my team get bullet wounds in your care? Should I expect to see brain tissue today?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes,” Dean said evenly. “One of my men bashed the short one’s head in when he tried to fight back. You’ll want to take a look at that when he gets here.”

  “Marco? You hurt Marco?” Benjamin’s fists clenched. “And Reid and Ember? Did you maim them, too?”

  “They’re fine,” I said, putting a hand on Benjamin’s shoulder. “Don’t get upset.”

  “Yeah, don’t get upset, doc,” Dean said. He winked at me and ducked out of the flap, then stuck his head back in. “Hey, Jillian, since I know who you are and that you’re not a threat, I’ll give you the big speech later, after everyone gets back. Bring your team.”

  I nodded once, and he left.

  Benjamin gathered me into a tight embrace, his whole body shuddering. “You’re here,” he whispered, breathing in deeply, perhaps inhaling my scent as I often did his. “Did they capture you, too? What happened at the tribunal?”

  Before I could answer, he kissed me so hungrily that the words faded from my mouth. I squeezed his firm waist, and he combed his fingers through my hair, pulling me even tighter against him.

  We broke for air, and he began to pepper my face with little kisses, his desperation coming through. “Oh God, I was so worried. I thought they were going to do something horrible to you. I thought I’d
never see you again.” He took a shaking breath. “Did they hurt you? Did Dean hurt you? If he did, I’ll k—”

  I cupped Benjamin’s cheek and kissed him again, slowly and sweetly. His breathing slowed.

  I guided his hand to my heart. “This heart is still beating because I wouldn’t have dreamed of dying until I knew you were safe.”

  “Yeah, doc! Get some!”

  Several wolf whistles came from the far end of the tent, where people I hadn’t noticed were lying on narrow cots, wrapped in blankets and surrounded by crumpled tissues.

  “My patients,” he muttered. “Idiots, all of them.”

  “Is there somewhere we can talk?” I glared at the men who’d whistled. They waggled their eyebrows at me. “Somewhere private?”

  “My tent.” He looked at the men on the cots. “Don’t get out of bed.”

  Ignoring their indignant replies, Benjamin led me out of the medical tent into the watery morning light. The freezing wind cut through me far more than usual, since my clothes were sodden with blood and horse sweat.

  I shivered, and Benjamin pulled me closer to him. “We’ll get you warmed up soon.” He hadn’t stopped touching me since he’d healed me.

  His tent was a small canvas affair, big enough for only two cots and a bag. He held the flap back for me and I ducked into it, then gasped.

  “Eleanor!”

  Eleanor Trent sat on the edge of one of the cots, yawning and pulling on boots. She wore the basic uniform of the Sentinels: dark gray winter gear, combat boots, gloves, and a black neck gaiter.

  How many other missing or “dead” people would I meet today?

  She gave me a curt nod. “Jillian.”

  Benjamin sat down across from her on the other cot and gestured for me to sit down. When I had, he threw a thick wool blanket over my shoulders. “El, can you go to the supply tent and get some women’s clothes for Jillian, please? Actually, can you get some clothes for the whole team? Two men, two women. They’ll be here soon.”

  Eleanor pulled her hair back in a messy bun. “No problem. But I can’t chat after that. Dean wants to talk to me right after everyone gets back.”

  “He’ll be giving us ‘the big speech’ then,” I said, making air quotes around Dean’s term.

  Eleanor frowned. “He doesn’t even know you.”

  If it were anybody but Eleanor speaking to me, I would’ve said she sounded a tad hostile. “Apparently my reputation precedes me. I’m the woman who pissed everyone off, remember?”

  “Got that right,” Eleanor grumbled. “After hearing about the hurricane fiasco and all that business, he did mention that he wanted to meet you.”

  Benjamin’s mouth twisted as if he’d smelled manure. “Of course he did.”

  Eleanor’s jaw hardened. “Get over your issues. Your girlfriend is back, so unclench, will you?”

  She shoved the tent flap aside and left.

  Benjamin put his arm around my shoulder. “You’re really okay? How did you find the Westerners? What happened after I was taken?” His eyes searched my face.

  “Back up. You tell me what happened to you, and then I’ll tell you my version of events.”

  Benjamin ran a hand through his hair and hesitated. “After I went to my watch post, I heard someone in the woods nearby. I went to investigate. The last thing I remember was a sharp pain on my neck.” He brushed his fingers over a patch of skin near his ear. “I woke up in the back of a van across from someone, a girl, I think. We were zip tied, gagged, and blindfolded. I don’t know how long we were in the van, but I’d say about a day. At some point they stopped and took the girl.” He held his face in his hands. “I remember her screaming in the gag when they took her. I wish I knew who it was.”

  “It was Isabel St. James.” I put my arm around him.

  His face fell. “Marco’s little sister? Damn them.”

  “What happened after that?”

  He looked away from me. “We drove for a few more hours and the two guys up front stopped and got out for a long time. I took advantage of their absence and got out of the zip tie, then ran as far and fast as I could. I bumped into the Sentinels two days ago, and I’ve been here ever since.”

  “You got out of a zip tie? Wow.” That wasn’t impossible, even for someone of average strength, but I wouldn’t have expected Benjamin to know a trick like that.

  “Yeah. I don’t like to talk about it, but I’ve picked up a skill or two over the years. It comes with being a Trent.”

  “What other skills do you know? Have you ever—”

  “What happened at the tribunal?” He took my hands in his. “What did they do to you? I’ve been out of my mind thinking of all the possibilities.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him the full story, but stopped. Ugly memories of the tribunal washed over me. Could it only have been four days ago? I didn’t know whether to tell him about Reuben and segue into the conversation I had with Berenice, or go right into my judgment and how badly they’d cornered me.

  And what would I tell him about Matthew and what he’d done to me at the edge of the creek? Would Benjamin understand why I hadn’t fought back? Why even though I had super strength, I’d let him touch me?

  You’re a superhero. The only person stopping you is you.

  Benjamin’s angry words before the tribunal came back to me, and a cold, slimy feeling twisted in my stomach: shame. I’d let Matthew threaten me. I’d let Matthew molest me. I’d let Matthew kiss me and grope me and make me wish I were dead. I’d let him do all of it because I’d been too loyal to the elders to tell him no.

  Even while we were still deep in the teachings, Ember had fought back against Patrick. She’d fought tooth and nail.

  I’d stood still.

  The shame deepened when I remembered that I’d thrown away my beautiful necklace. I had super strength; I could’ve said no and thrown Matthew into the creek, instead. Why hadn’t I? Because I’d been scared for Reid? Reid was a superhero, too. We all could’ve fought back. What stopped us?

  I couldn’t remember. All I could remember was Matthew’s hands on my body, and the rage that drove me to cause him as much pain as I could. To drown Peter and relish his struggles for air.

  I’d let myself be a victim. What had happened was, fundamentally, my own doing.

  I was never going to be a victim again.

  I shrugged. “The tribunal didn’t go well. They were going to remove me from service and make Reid the leader, but before anything happened the Westerners attacked, and we decided to go after you.”

  I didn’t see a reason to give him the dirty details. He’d just get enraged at me again for not fighting back.

  Benjamin looked relieved. “That’s it? No punishments?”

  I snickered. “Well, Matthew didn’t do so well.”

  “What happened?”

  “I caught him impersonating you. When he wouldn’t tell me why, I broke his fingers one by one to persuade him to part with the information.” I held up my hand and wiggled my fingers. “Oh, and I broke his leg.”

  Benjamin didn’t laugh like I thought he would. Instead, he looked almost troubled. “You tortured him.”

  “Who cares? It was Matthew. He deserved everything he got.”

  “So that’s two people,” Benjamin murmured.

  “What do you mean, two people?”

  “Two people on which you’ve deliberately inflicted pain to get revenge. Patrick was the first. I watched you do it.”

  Irritation flickered in my chest. “Yes, two people. Two awful people. Don’t worry about it.”

  Benjamin squeezed my hand. “I just don’t want to see you lose yourself to violence. I know that world, Jillian. I know how easy it is to write off an atrocity. It starts with telling yourself that awful people deserve it, and then suddenly you’re doing things you said you’d never do.”

  “Like shooting superheroes?”

  The words came out before I could stop them.

  There was a pause. B
enjamin’s face smoothed over, and he let go of my hands, breaking off physical contact with me for the first time since we’d been reunited. “You’ve been to Baltimore.”

  “Yeah. We took Reid’s brother Reuben there after the tribunal to tend to Reuben’s injuries. We met the whole team. Berenice had an interesting story about the Trents. You know her as Artemis.”

  He blinked quickly, then said, “What was wrong with Reuben?”

  “He was hurt. Why are you avoiding the subject?”

  Benjamin glared at me. “You’ve already decided that I’m guilty, haven’t you?”

  “Guilty of what? I just want to know what you haven’t told me about your past.”

  “You knew before I joined the team that I’m a Trent. I’ve committed crimes. This isn’t new information.” Color was rising in his cheeks.

  “You never told me that you’ve had multiple fights with the Baltimore team.” I stood up, and he did too. “You never told me that you tried to kill one of us, and yes, that’s an important detail. Berenice didn’t want to even help us for a while because she still has the dent in her armor from your bullet.”

  “I don’t have to tell you everything,” Benjamin growled. “What happened that night at the lab was need-to-know, and you didn’t need to know. It hasn’t stopped me from serving on your team.”

  “I need to know if there are superheroes out there that might be carrying a grudge against you. You lied to me, Benjamin. I asked you that night in your bedroom if your run-ins with the DC team and the New York City team were your only altercations, and you said—"

  “Why would I have told you the full extent of my rap sheet? Until recently you believed that anybody who…who jaywalks deserves to be lynched. Or have their leg and fingers broken.” He crossed his arms. “If pretending to be me earns torture, God knows what you would’ve done to me before you got your head screwed on straight.”

  “My head screwed on straight?” I shouted. “So there it is again. I’m too uneducated and brainwashed—”

  “That is not what I said! Don’t put words in my mouth!”