The Feral Sentence- Complete Box Set

by Shade Owens

  Maybe this meant something.

  Maybe we stood a chance, after all.

  Maybe…

  “Out of my way!” came Zsasz’s voice.

  She barged through the crowd of women leaving the market after a long day’s work and my stomach sank. The bit of strength I’d felt seconds ago evaporated instantly. I was weak, pathetic, and vulnerable again.

  God, why did she have that effect on me?

  Behind her was Rebel, her usual sidekick, and two other Beasts I didn’t recognize. These two were tall, wore padded shoulder plates, and stomped through the city like they owned the place—which, in a sense, they did.

  But they weren’t what bothered me. What shook me were the two women they dragged behind them. They were Murk’s people as evidenced by their suede clothing, and although I didn’t recognize them, one caught my gaze as if she knew who I was.

  A gash ran across the bridge of her nose, and her shirt was doused with blood at the neckline. Rebel, who was the one dragging them by a rope, tugged hard when she caught her staring my way and the woman fell to her knees.

  “Hey!” I shouted, but I regretted it instantly.

  What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut?

  Rebel’s wild eyes flashed underneath the setting sun. She crinkled her nose and curled her upper lip over her front teeth, giving off the appearance of a rabid raccoon.

  “Got somethin’ to say?” she shouted, and she yanked even harder on the rope, forcing the two women into the dirt.

  I didn’t respond, but instead, stared at her, picturing myself beating my fist into her face. When she realized I wasn’t breaking eye contact, she dropped the rope and marched over to me, arms swinging in an exaggerated motion.

  I was doing it again—breaking rules.

  To my surprise, Zsasz didn’t get involved. She watched us, seemingly satisfied with whatever Rebel was about to do to me. I wanted to look away—back down and save myself the pain—but I couldn’t. All I could think about was Trim, and how if she were here, she’d die before submitting to these pieces of shit.

  And that was exactly what had happened.

  “Brone,” someone muttered, but it sounded like a distant dream.

  Someone nudged me, and I yanked my body away from them.

  “Just look away,” someone else whispered.

  But I couldn’t.

  Rebel came face-to-face with me, her putrid breath slipping into my mouth. Her head moved from side to side and the tip of her nose brushed against mine. My heart should have been racing, my palms clammy, but as I stood there, staring into her gunk-encrusted eyes, all I felt was an alien calmness.

  “On your knees,” she growled.

  I didn’t move.

  Her nostrils flared, and I could tell she was on the verge of blowing. They’d already beaten me time and time again. They’d starved me, hurt my friends, threatened me, and threatened to hurt Murk, even. What more could they do? I’d live with the consequences, but I wouldn’t submit to them.

  Trim’s death wouldn’t be for nothing.

  Rebel pulled a stone blade from her holster and pressed its tip into my neck, her nostrils spread wide.

  What a disgusting piece of shit, I thought.

  If only I’d had my arrows.

  She dug the sharp tip into my throat, and I swallowed hard under the pressure, my stare never leaving hers. Her face was beet red now, and her forehead glistened with sweat.

  “On your fucking knees before I—”

  “Rebel,” Zsasz said, calmer than I’d have expected from her.

  Rebel pulled away, her hideous eyes staring at me with such hatred. She wasn’t getting her way, and it was eating her alive. I didn’t realize I was smiling until Rebel’s brows came together. She let out a loud growl and with all her strength, swung a fist to the side of my head.

  I fell to the ground, Rebel’s boots a fuzzy haze in front of me. My ear rang and my vision doubled.

  “Leave her be,” Zsasz said. “She’s mine. I’ll take care of her later.”

  I heard footsteps and realized they were continuing their path toward the bamboo prison cells.

  “Brone!”

  “Brone, you okay?”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Give her some space!”

  A solid hand grabbed me by the arms and pulled me up.

  “You okay, kid?” Quinn asked.

  I blinked once, twice, three times, until her face came into focus.

  “You’re nuts, you know that?” she said.

  “They killed my friends.”

  “They killed a lot of our friends, too.” Quinn grimaced. “But if you keep this up, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Deep down, I knew that wasn’t true. I did care, but, I was too numb to acknowledge it. I wanted revenge more than I wanted to breathe. If, by some miracle, I were to survive all this, I’d someday come to regret everything I’d done on this island. Eventually, reality would set in, and I’d realize that I became exactly what I fought so hard to prevent: feral, capable of taking a life without hesitation or remorse.

  But right now, I didn’t care.

  “Come on,” Quinn said. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

  CHAPTER 14

  I pulled my good arm out of Coin’s grip.

  “I need to know,” I hissed.

  Her eyes looked like glow-in-the-dark golf balls under the moonlight’s glow. The city was quiet, for the most part. I could hear Beasts moving around in the jungle every few minutes. What did they do? Sit there all night guarding their territory? What kind of a life was that?

  She mouthed something, but I couldn’t make it out. Instead, I turned around and scurried my way over to the bamboo cages. Two torches resting in sconces illuminated the exterior gate, so I eased my way toward the sidewall, careful not to step into the light.

  “Brone,” Coin whispered, and I swung around, not realizing she’d followed me.

  “Why you doin’ this?” she asked.

  “Doing what?” I asked. I was getting impatient. Everyone was sleeping—this wasn’t the time to have a chat.

  “Tryin’ to be a hero? They’re gonna kill you, Brone. You’re pushin’ your luck.”

  “I’m not trying to be anything,” I said. “Either follow and shut up or go back to your fancy hammock.”

  Her eyes narrowed into little white slits then darted from side to side. “Fine,” she mouthed.

  I continued my path, my body hunched forward and my footsteps calculated. The last thing I needed, especially after today, was to get caught trying to talk to the new prisoners. The heat of the fire warmed the tip of my nose as I drew nearer. Since being released from this cell, I’d never actually come back to it—I’d never wanted to.

  But that woman—the one who’d looked at me as if she knew me—I needed to know who she was.

  “Pssst,” I said, but I immediately jumped back when dirty fingertips came popping out through the diamond-shaped holes.

  “Who’s there?” the panicked voice asked.

  Then, an amber eye appeared from within the darkness. She clasped, and reclasped the gate with her fingertips, trying to pull her face closer to the bamboo gate.

  “You,” she breathed.

  Although I couldn’t see her face, I knew this was the woman who’d been looking at me earlier today.

  “Do I know you?” I asked.

  Her breath was short and labored as if she’d been running in circles for hours. Or, maybe the Beasts were doing precisely what they’d done to us—starving her. I remembered that awful feeling: being depleted and out of breath every few minutes, the way my muscles had burned after something as simple as standing up.

  “Are you Brone?” she breathed. “The Archer?”

  I nodded, but when I realized she probably couldn’t see me well enough, I cleared my throat. “Yeah.”

  “I have a message for you.” Her voice lowered e
ven more, forcing me to move in closer to the gate. She spoke slowly as if reciting a poem off a piece of paper. “We’re alive… Um. Fisher made it. And… W-We’re coming for you.”

  I nearly fell back at the sound of those words. I wanted to scream—scream as loud as I could with joy. I couldn’t believe it. Ellie… She was okay. And Fisher. Oh, God, Fisher. She’d actually survived. Proxy had pulled through. She’d saved her. She’d fucking saved her.

  I slapped a hand over my mouth, my throat swelling. I hadn’t felt anything other than fear and pain for so long that I thought I might implode. My eyes watered and I swallowed hard.

  “Shit, Brone!” came Coin’s voice.

  A cold hand grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me away from the cage.

  “Wh…what’re you doing?” I snapped.

  I wanted to hear more, to ask this woman where she’d received this information. Ask her about the Cove. Ask her about everything. But then, dozens of footsteps filled the air around us, and shadowy figures came out from out from the edge of the jungle.

  Shit.

  I contemplated running the other way, but I didn’t have time. These figures had already seen us. Oh, God… Fisher. Flander. Biggie. Rocket… Proxy. Elektra… All of them. I couldn’t die before they came looking for us.

  The first face to come out of the shadow and into the orange light took me by surprise.

  Quinn.

  What was going on? Had she faked wanting to be friends? Was she coming to finish me off on Zsasz’s behalf? Maybe that was Zsasz’s plan all along…

  The next face I saw only confused me more—it was Tegan, and beside her, Hammer, Johnson, and Arenas. I looked from side to side. What the hell was going on? They weren’t alone—there were dozens of women behind them, all slowly stepping into view beneath the black star-lit sky.

  And then I saw Holland. She bowed her head, but it was obvious she wanted to be here.

  Coin’s fingernails dug into my arm, but I couldn’t feel the pain—I was too preoccupied trying to understand what all these women, including my friends, were doing sneaking out during sleep hours.

  I wanted an answer, but no one spoke.

  Instead, Quinn took a step closer and bowed her head. She made a fist around her thumb and slammed it into her chest. Everyone behind her followed suit, soft thumps filling the air.

  I knew this gesture… They’d made this gesture for Rainer.

  “We’re stronger in numbers,” Quinn said, and in a single moment, all the pain I felt—both physical and emotional—vanished.

  My lips curved into a smile and my heart pounded against my chest. The dozens of women before me were willing and ready to stand by my side against the Northers—against the Beasts—and against Rainer.

  I stepped forward, my gaze meeting everyone’s faces, and drew my shoulders back. Although I hadn’t done it on purpose, I’d given these women something to believe in; I’d given them something to fight for.

  Hope.

  I stared at them, noting the hunger in their fiery eyes. I wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time, but instead, I said nothing.

  I raised my good hand into the air and extended my fingers to form a star.

  Together, we’d fight back.

  PRIMAL INSTINCTS (SEASON 3)

  EPISODE 9

  PROLOGUE

  The bird squawked as if it were the happiest creature on Earth, its head pulled back and its beak aimed at the sky. It was the strangest-looking bird I’d ever seen—a brown-beige color with bright red feathers sticking straight out from the top of its beak, right in front of its eyes.

  I watched as it stretched out its colorful wings in between the flowery branches, then closed my eyes and breathed in the dense scent of fresh earth and exotic flowers, feeling utterly calm. The sun had begun to rise, creating bright orange streaks on the forest floor. I followed the ropes of my hammock up to the branch overhead, where beads of condensation sat, almost teasingly. They looked cool and crisp and shiny enough to make you want to climb the tree and lick the branch.

  But I was too tired—too relaxed to move a single muscle.

  Maybe if I lay there without moving, reality would fade and I would find myself sprawled out on a beach somewhere soaking in my daily dose of vitamin D.

  But then, someone’s weight shifted nearby, and I opened my eyes. Morning had returned, and everyone started rising for another day of work. The lush greenery around me suddenly looked dry and withered and every smell I breathed in made me nauseous.

  I wasn’t in paradise—far from it. I was waking up in the middle of hell; waking up a prisoner to the Northers.

  The pain in my hand started throbbing and my vision blurred. How long would this take to heal? Weeks? Months? I was no doctor, but from the looks of it, three of my fingers were broken. One way or another, Zsasz would eventually pay for what she’d done to me.

  As I stared into the sky, through the thousands of multicolored leaves, the birds overhead became a nuisance and I contemplated my circumstances.

  How long had I been here? I’d spent months being abused and tortured both physically and emotionally by the Northers, or as I’d recently learned—the Beasts. Wasn’t it enough that they’d burned our Village to the ground? That they’d captured Murk, our leader, and held her prisoner to be beaten day in, day out? That they’d taken Franklin from our group to train her—or brainwash her—into being their perfect little soldier? And what about my friends, the Hunters? They would come back for me, I’d been told. Would they? Would they even make it to me?

  My thoughts drifted to Quinn and the dozens of women who came to me several nights ago. They’d stood tall with clenched fists, prepared to take a stand against the Northers.

  But the truth was, nothing had changed. A few glances were shared every now and then, but no real plan had been set in motion. Maybe it was all for show. Maybe they weren’t actually willing to fight back.

  How was I supposed to go on like this?

  I turned my head sideways when I heard Coin stretch. She always let out an exaggeratedly long moan in the morning, so I knew it was her.

  I let out a long sigh. I was stuck here, surrounded by what could only be described as a living nightmare.

  CHAPTER 1

  Coin looked chipper today.

  It wasn’t like her to be chipper, ever. She always looked pissed off, on the verge of knocking someone’s teeth out. And judging by the oral hygiene around here—or lack of, to be more accurate—that wouldn’t have been a difficult thing to do.

  She plucked berries from their stems with a smile on her dark face. Her lips seemed to move with her thoughts—one minute they were thin and flat, and the next, stretched so wide on her face that her golden tooth sparkled underneath the morning sun.

  “Yo, chica,” Arenas said, her head moving from side to side with fierce Latina attitude. “Why you being all weird and shit?”

  Coin looked over, but her smile didn’t fade. What did she possibly have to be so happy about in a place like this? In a hellish nightmare where we’d spent the last few months, or more—I’d lost count—being abused both physically and emotionally?

  She shrugged, one of her eyes squinting more than the other over her puffy cheeks. “Just picturin’ the house I’m gonna own when I turn thirty.”

  “Thirty?” Johnson said as if this was the only thing she’d heard. “How old are you?”

  I didn’t blame Johnson for getting defensive. She didn’t look old, per se, but everyone in our group looked younger than her. Maybe this was bothering her, making her feel like she had less time left in life than the rest of us.

  “What’re you talking about?” Hammer cut in. She ran a hand through her short curly hair and tugged at her shirt, trying to get a breeze to slip through. “Your own house.” It looked like she was about to scoff at Coin’s delusion, but instead, she eyed me, lips sealed tight.

  “Were you not there last night?” Coin said. “You saw what happened. These women
…” She leaned forward, her flat, crop-topped stomach pressing against the pile of squash she held on her lap. “They wanna fight back. We’re gettin’ outta here.”

  “So, you mean a house made of bamboo and shit?” Arenas said. “Like a jungle house.”

  Coin shook her head, still stuck in her delusional state. “Naw, man. We’re gonna get off this island. It’s only a matter of time.”

  Poor Coin.

  No one said anything but instead exchanged glances.

  I understood it—she was excited about Quinn being on our side and about all the women who’d come forward last night, prepared to stand up to the Beasts. I was excited about that too, but it didn’t change all that much. It wasn’t like we were getting out of here anytime soon. This was going to take a long time. We didn’t know who to trust yet.

  How were we supposed to hold meetings? Making any sort of attack plan was virtually impossible. There were hundreds of women inside the city. We didn’t know which ones fed the Beasts information—and this did happen. The Beasts, though unnecessarily barbaric and cruel, weren’t stupid. They had eyes and ears on the outside of their gate at all times.

  We needed to be cautious about this.

  I was surprised that Arenas and Johnson didn’t chime in to pop Coin’s rose-colored bubble. Instead of making some smart-ass remark about how we were going to spend the rest of our lives rotting on this island, they both cast their eyes down and went quiet.

  “Well,” Hammer said, breaking the silence, “I, for one, am gonna have a house with an acre of land, at least. Not too much, though. It’ll remind me of this fucking place.”

  A few women chuckled, and Hammer continued, “And every week, I’ll ride out with my riding lawnmower and cut the grass. Then, my sexy wife will come out through the patio door with a cold glass of lemonade. That’s how sweet she’ll be—always wanting to take care of me.”