Road's End (The Narrow Gate Book 4)

by Janean Worth

  From across the fire, a few words drifted to his ears, and he tensed, hearing them.

  “. . . leave soon . . . Sovereign wants us back . . .”

  “What . . . Fidgets? Leobs?”

  Behind him, obviously able to hear the snippets of conversation, too, Daven muttered, “I thought we would have all night to try to get away.”

  Jack was about to answer when he heard the soft tread of someone approaching. Without looking up and behind himself, he knew that it would be Gemma. The footfalls were light and quick, not heavy and lumbering like an Enforcer would be. She’d probably come to gloat.

  Wordless with anger, Jack hissed at her when her shadow blocked the light from the fire.

  Before he could find his voice, she spoke. “I’m sorry. I truly am. I had no other choice.”

  “There’s always a choice,” Daven muttered, still fumbling with the ropes, as if he didn’t care that the girl standing over them could see what he was doing.

  Jack realized that he didn’t care, either, his anger wiping away all caution.

  “You know that you’ve surely killed us all, don’t you?” Jack asked.

  Gemma was quiet for a moment.

  “I had no choice,” she mumbled again. “But, now that I’ve completed my task and delivered you to the Enforcers, my people will be freed. I only said that I would bring you to them, not that I would not help you to escape again. Surely the Sovereign will see that I did as he asked, even if you should escape the Enforcers. His wrath will be for them, not for me.”

  Jack didn’t bother to tell her that she was wrong. The Sovereign would hold each and every one of them responsible, including Gemma, should they manage to escape. He also knew that whatever the Sovereign had promised her was just an empty assurance. He would never keep his word. But Jack said nothing, thinking that Gemma deserved whatever treatment she got from the Sovereign.

  A small object dropped onto his fingers from above, and then Gemma turned swiftly to walk away, sneering over her shoulder as she strode back to the fire.

  “Filthy Strays . . .”

  Jack’s fingers closed around the object. It was one of the folding knives that the Enforcers frequently carried in their pockets.

  He quickly passed the knife to Daven’s fingers.

  “Now, we might not need until morning after all,” Daven whispered, his voice low and laced with satisfaction.

  “Hurry. They could move us any moment,” Jack said, feeling a rush of hope overtake him as Daven opened the knife and began to saw clumsily at the ropes.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Their flight down the long, dark tunnel was harrowing. Kara’s lungs burned with exertion as she ran through the darkness. Mathew was close behind her, keeping up with her with little effort, urging her on when she stumbled. The Fidgets were close at their heels, squealing and hissing in rage.

  More than halfway down the tunnel, the shielding device had stopped working, and in his haste to try to make it work again, Mathew had fumbled the device and dropped it. They’d been forced to leave it where it had landed, because, with the Fidgets in pursuit, they’d had no time to look for it in the dark.

  Kara mourned its loss. What would they do without it?

  If the Fidgets caught up to the two of them, they’d likely be so enraged that nothing would stop their murderous impulses—not even the strange hold that the Custodian had exerted over them. All of the rest of the way down the tunnel, Kara imagined those sharp claws and teeth digging into her. Those vivid mental images had made her run even faster.

  In their headlong flight, they’d managed to put a little bit of distance between themselves and the following beasts, but not much. Not enough that they could slow their frantic pace.

  “Where are the horses?” she gasped, panting with exertion as they clambered clumsily up onto the tiled platform.

  “I don’t know,” Mathew answered, breathing just as hard as she was. “I didn’t stop to find them before I came for you.”

  Kara wanted to scream in frustration, but instead she began to pray silently. She needed more help than either Mathew or she herself could provide. She didn’t know what they’d do if they could not find the horses. The Fidgets were right behind them. Only the short length of their legs had prevented them from catching up to Kara and Mathew in the tunnels.

  It was full dark outside, but with the moonlight shining down almost benevolently upon them, it was still brighter than inside the tunnels. The soft white light limned everything with a dull, almost metallic sheen. To her eyes, which had been forced to acclimate to the lightless tunnels, the moonlight seemed incredibly bright. Still, no matter how bright it appeared, it was not enough to see clearly by and the darkness would inhibit their flight and also their ability to find the horses.

  At least it had stopped raining, for which Kara was grateful. She wasn’t sure she’d have been able to deal with her aching head, the stitch forming in her side, the handicap of darkness, and pouring rain.

  Mathew pulled up even with her as they leapt the short concrete dividing wall and turned left to pelt wildly down the crumbling road. He was breathing heavily, the small glowing device he held aloft bobbing erratically, casting amorphous blobs of light all along their path in the darkness.

  The flickering of the light illuminated the crumbling ruins unevenly, causing shadows to leap up at them and then to flee again moments later. The leaping shadows could have been Fidgets stalking them in the darkness, but it was hard to tell.

  The stitch in her side grew as her breath sawed in and out in time with her pounding feet. Her mind was glutted with so many conflicting emotions and scattered thoughts that it was hard to determine just exactly what the best course of action was.

  The pounding in her temples was growing stronger, and she’d begun to feel faint with the pain. She wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to run.

  She began to pray again, this time for strength. If she were going to be able to save the Strays from the Enforcer trap and warn the people of GateWide of the Sovereign’s nefarious plans for them, she would need every bit of strength that she could gather, and a perhaps a miracle or two.

  “Look,” Mathew suddenly shouted, thrusting the light forward as they ran. “That’s Gallant.”

  To Kara’s utter amazement, it was true. The loyal horse stood a few yards ahead on the road. The filly crowded close to his side, as if seeking comfort from him.

  “Thank the Creator for Gallant!” Kara gasped, her breath nearly gone.

  Gallant shied a bit as they approached at a full‑out run, but he did not bolt. In moments, they’d gathered the reins of the horses, leapt onto their damp bare backs, and set off down the road at a fast trot.

  Kara could hear the Fidgets in the distance, still chasing them, their claws a scrabble of sound upon the crumbling asphalt and concrete behind them. Their hisses and squeals of anger followed them off into the darkness.

  Kara let Mathew take the lead on Gallant, knowing the filly would follow the older horse. For a moment, she let her eyes slide closed in the darkness, hoping the lack of visual stimulation might ease the pain in her head, but it didn’t help much.

  “How did you find me?” Kara asked, opening her eyes once again.

  “By remembering how to be a thief,” Mathew said, just a hint of a smile in his voice.

  “Is that so? What did you steal?”

  “You.”

  Despite the throbbing of her head, and the dire situation facing them, she couldn’t help but smile.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Travelling the city in the darkness was an entirely different experience than traversing it during the day was. After arriving back in the city after rescuing the Strays, Kara had rarely ventured from the sanctuary after dark, fearing the Fidgets. With the darkness surrounding them, she began to realize full well that the Fidgets were not the only danger in the night‑dark city.

  Without the sun overhead to light their way, there was c
onstant danger of leading the horses into a half‑hidden hazard in the abandoned city. Everywhere there were obstacles to avoid, made even more difficult to see because of night’s shadow. The light that Mathew held was not directional, and could not be aimed in front of or behind them. Instead, it glowed softly, only illuminating a small circle around them, forcing them to slow their pace.

  After a while, Mathew had fallen back so that he could ride shoulder to shoulder with her, allowing the small circle of light to illuminate the way for both of them, if only dimly.

  The hulking shadows of the dilapidated buildings hung over them, hemming them in inside the darkness, making the world seem small and claustrophobic. Every sound of the horses’ striking hooves upon concrete seemed magnified, echoing eerily between the jagged sections of still‑standing concrete, making it seem as if their pursuers had found them and were hiding in every corner, waiting to pounce.

  Kara shivered, realizing just how close she and Mathew had come to losing their lives in the tunnels.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “For coming for me.”

  “It was the right thing to do,” Mathew said with a grin. “And besides, I like you too much to leave you anywhere.”

  “So you’ll go with me back to GateWide, a final time?”

  “If that’s what you want, then yes.”

  Kara wasn’t sure if she should tell him what she really wanted, but she was tired of holding it inside herself, hiding it from others.

  “No, it’s not really what I want, Mathew. Not at all. I’m afraid to go back, afraid of the Sovereign, afraid that we won’t be so lucky as we were last time. I don’t want to go back, but I know that it is the right thing to do, and I know that I have to do it.” She paused for a deep breath and then continued when he said nothing. “I have been trying to decide, under my own power, using my own thoughts as a guide, what the right thing to do is. Before we left the sanctuary, I couldn’t decide what that was. Was it right to stay with the Strays, or was it right to seek the Narrow Gate so that they could have a better life later? I couldn’t discern the truth of the matter. But, while I was down in the tunnels, I realized something. It is not for me to decide what the right thing to do is. In fact, it is not for anyone to decide. Not me, not the Sovereign, not the Custodian. None of us get to decide what’s right. We don’t have to figure it out, because it has already been designed for us. The Word is our guide. We must simply do as it says in the Book, follow the Creator’s commands and instruction, and we will be doing the right thing.”

  Mathew said nothing for a very long time, and then, in a quiet voice, he said, “I know that it is the right thing, too, but I don’t want to go back, either, Kara. I’m afraid, too. But I’m afraid of losing you.

  Chapter Thirty

  Jack grunted in surprise when the Enforcer’s boot connected with his ribs with enough force to knock the air out of him.

  With his back to the fire and the group of Enforcers, Jack hadn’t even seen the man coming.

  “Don’t think I didn’t see that you’re an instigator, and have this one here,” the man paused just long enough to give Daven a swift kick in the leg, “talked into helping you try to escape. But, you filthy Strays have escaped one too many times, and you’re not going to get away from us this time. The Sovereign has a grand surprise for you all back in GateWide, and I can’t wait to see it myself, so I’m not going to let you get away again.”

  Just for good measure, the Enforcer kicked Jack again, but because he no longer had any air left in his lungs, all his body produced that time was a wheeze of pain.

  Daven apparently hadn’t seen the Enforcer approach, either, and when the man had kicked Jack, his hand had slipped as he’d been attempting to saw through the heavy ropes, gashing Jack’s wrist. In addition to his aching ribs, Jack could feel the stinging there as the wetness of his own blood coated his almost‑numb fingers.

  The Enforcer glared down at them a moment more before stalking back over to the fire.

  Jack concentrated on catching his breath. It would have been nice if one of the other Strays had warned him of the Enforcer’s approach, but he said nothing to any of them.

  Some of them had been Strays longer than he had, and he could only guess at the amount of trauma they’d been exposed to during their time in the House. That kind of abuse affected everyone differently, as he well knew. He’d barely been able to function when Kara and Mathew had come to rescue them. At the time, he’d been so caught up in his own fear that he’d felt frozen inside and unable to even think well enough to help much at all. So, he couldn’t really blame the others if they were reverting that that kind of behavior, but knowing that they probably couldn’t tamp down their cowardice didn’t make his ribs feel any better.

  Jack coughed, then drew in a great gulp of air, his lungs unbinding just enough that it didn’t hurt so badly to breathe. His ribs would be bruised, but he didn’t think anything was broken.

  “Sorry, Jack. I know I cut you,” Daven hissed. “They didn’t take the knife, so I can try again in a moment.”

  Jack rolled over to look at him, facing the fire once more, and saw that the Enforcers were busily breaking camp. Two of them had already begun gathering some of the other captured Strays.

  They were too late. They’d run out of time.

  “No, they’re coming,” Jack muttered, only loud enough for Daven’s ears. “Try to hide the knife. Maybe you can use it later.”

  “I am trying. I can’t find it,” Daven hissed desperately.

  Jack heard the faint scrabble of the boy’s fingers as they sifted blindly through the carpet of dried leaves upon which they lay.

  An Enforcer drew near, reaching down to grab Daven and haul him to his feet.

  Jack closed his eyes and rolled, hoping to position himself over the knife. He was able to perform a single revolution of his body, his bound hands urgently seeking the knife, before they hauled him to his feet as well.

  Hands empty, ribs aching, he endured being hauled back to his horse and tossed, stomach down, over the saddle.

  Taking no chances, the Enforcers also strung a rope beneath the horse’s belly, binding his hands and feet together under the horse, so he had no chance of getting off of the animal even if he tried.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The trek through the city was harrowing, and it didn’t improve once they reached the outer boundary and continued out into the Old Forest. After their narrow escape from the tunnels, Kara’s nerves were stretched to their limit and she imagined attack in every shadow and rustling breeze. Each sound startled her. The sound of a snapping twig resembled the shot fired from an Enforcer’s gun. The wind soughing through the trees sounded like the enraged hissing of the horde of Fidgets. She felt twitchy and edgy. She wasn’t sure if it would be the shot from an Enforcer’s weapon that might fell her or the teeth of a Fidget tearing into her leg. Maybe something else equally horrible. Perhaps a rare leob would find them in the darkness.

  They couldn’t afford to slow their pace in order to quiet their movements, so they just plowed on ahead, making every minute count. And plenty of noise. Kara’s instincts prickled uncomfortably. Their loud race through the forest went against all that she’d learned during her time alone in the wilderness. If one wanted to live, one did not travel through the Old Forest so noisily at night. But, in order to have a chance at keeping the Strays from walking into the trap that the Enforcers had set for them, she had to disregard this caution and instead focus on reaching them in time.

  Kara didn’t even want to contemplate what might happen to the Strays if they were taken back inside GateWide. She couldn’t bear to think of Merrilee once more at the mercy of the Sovereign, a man who had no mercy at all. Or Jack, who had just started to heal from the effects of living in the House as a Stray. What would the Sovereign do to Jack and Merrilee and the others?

  Her mind was awash with questions when she needed answers.

  Who was this girl who had managed to
get the Strays to leave the sanctuary? Was she another Stray? One that Kara hadn’t seen when they’d taken the others out of GateWide? Surely the Strays wouldn’t have left Otto’s care on the advice of another Stray, when Kara had told them to wait there for her to return from the Narrow Gate.

  Kara wondered why Otto would even consider allowing another girl entrance into the sanctuary anyway, and then she remembered the reason that he had been created. His purpose was to serve, to help people see the truth and find their way. He could do nothing else.

  And what was her purpose, Kara wondered. Wasn’t it the same? Hadn’t she been created by her Creator to serve?

  She realized that she and Mathew had been seeking the Narrow Gate with single‑minded, almost childish purpose, as if it were a Utopia and once they reached it, all of their problems would be solved. But Kara was beginning to see that wouldn’t be the case—that it had in fact never been the case. The Narrow Gate was not a cure to the hardships that existed in the world. It was in the world, and therefore not exempt from the function of it. No, the Narrow Gate was a goal, a way station, a place to try to make things better. But, only in walking with the Creator and obeying his Word could one truly find peace while still living in the world. Only in doing the right thing could solace be found in the world. And the only true solace would come later, when they joined the Creator in His place of glory.

  That was her purpose. She must do the right thing, must seek to do good, must love her fellow people enough to give them her all, to serve them. To help save them.

  This knowledge, this sudden epiphany, made her feel almost queasy with desperation. This realization of her purpose should have calmed her, but coming when so many were in danger and in need of her help, it was of little comfort. For, with this realization, she’d also recognized how much greater her failure would be if she wasn’t able to find the Strays and warn the people of GateWide in time.