The Feral Sentence- Complete Box Set

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The Feral Sentence- Complete Box Set Page 95

by Shade Owens


  But, it hadn’t been my strength.

  “Two is always better than one,” Johnson said, smirking sideways at me.

  Her freckles were hidden beneath the dirt on her face, and across her chin was a gash so deep I could see a layer of fat and muscle.

  “Some bitch’s arrow almost got me,” she said, no doubt noticing my stare.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  She nodded. “You?”

  If I answered that, I feared I might give up my will to fight. So instead, I nodded, stuffed a bunch of arrows into the dead Norther’s quiver, and pointed at the other arrows lying around. “Grab as many as you can. We need to get our archers back into this fight.”

  She bent down, her dirty blond hair looking like old rust at the base of her neck. Whether the blood was hers or someone else’s was beyond me. If Johnson was here, who else had followed?

  Although eternally grateful for their loyalty, I wished my friends hadn’t come.

  “Watch out!” Johnson shouted, throwing a loose arrow behind me.

  The arrow didn’t do anything but land in the Norther’s face, distracting her for a brief second. I quickly picked up my new sword and, as the Norther’s focus fell back on me, stabbed it straight through her stomach.

  “Holy shit,” Johnson breathed. “That was close.”

  I couldn’t say anything, so instead, I kicked the woman off my sword and watched as she fell to the ground.

  I twirled in circles, trying to catch a glimpse of my surroundings, but I couldn’t. There was so much dirt I couldn’t see anything beyond several feet. How the hell were we supposed to know when the battle was over? And with this much dirt clouding the battlefield, how were we supposed to kill Isaac? We’d never get a clear shot.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Guided by the high treetops, I charged toward the forest with my sword gripped firmly in my fists. For a brief moment, it reminded me of Halloween when I was fourteen-years-old. My mom had taken me to see our town’s most haunted house, and to enter the house, we’d been forced to walk through a passageway so dark it was like I’d lost my eyesight.

  It wasn’t the darkness that scared me—it was the idea of something jumping out.

  As I ran through the brown clouds of dirt, I couldn’t help but tense up with every step I took. At any moment, someone could come charging at me with a pointed weapon aimed at my face. It was the strangest sensation in the world—I was surrounded by women left and right, yet I felt completely alone.

  I spun around to make sure Johnson was still following me with her arms full of arrows, but when I looked back, she wasn’t there.

  “Johnson!” I hissed.

  I backtracked a few steps, wincing to try to see clearly, but she wasn’t there.

  CHAPTER 10

  The moment I entered the jungle, it was like a blindfold had been taken off.

  Finally, I could see, though I wished I couldn’t. Countless women lay across the jungle floor, their bodies tangled and piled overtop one another. Deeper into the jungle, the sound of battle cries and weapons clashing against each other filled the air.

  Heartbroken, I stared at the lifeless bodies. The only reason they’d come out this way was because of Hawkins, and me. Their loyalty to me had led them to want to stand up against the Northers, and now, so many of them had lost their lives.

  Northers, too, lay motionless over tree roots, dead bodies, and piles of rotten leaves.

  Was this what Rainer wanted? She’d been so drunk off power she was willing to sacrifice everything to rule over the island. What was the point of being in charge if there was no one to rule over?

  Suddenly, a soft moan caught my attention. I swung around and followed it. There were no words, only sounds.

  Leaning against a large tree trunk was Arenas, her lips parted and her eyelids heavy. She stared at me as I approached, then winced in pain and with two trembling hands, covered the deep puncture in her abdomen.

  “Br-Brone…” she mumbled. “Is… Is that—”

  I hopped down into a crouched position beside her and dropped my overloaded quiver at my feet. “Shhh. Yeah, it’s me.”

  A substantial amount of blood pooled through the cracks of her fingertips, further staining her suede top. Although usually golden brown, her skin was now as white as mine.

  No way was she coming out of this alive.

  “It… hurts. So… bad,” she said, her lips forming an upside-down smile.

  It was strange to hear Arenas speak without her usual Latina fierceness. I’d grown so accustomed to hearing her call me chica all the time that my actual name seemed foreign slipping off her tongue.

  “P-please,” she said. “H-h-help.”

  Pulling her in by her clammy neck, I pressed my forehead against hers. The last thing I wanted to do was kill one of my own, but I’d come to learn on this island that mercy was one of the greatest and most selfless things someone could do for another.

  Had I been in her position, I wouldn’t have wanted to sit there for hours on end suffering horribly until my final breath. I reached for one or my collected arrows, not quite certain how I intended to offer her mercy. What was I supposed to do? Slit her wrists? How morbid was that?

  The last time I’d offered someone mercy, I hadn’t known the woman and I’d shot an arrow through her without her seeing me. Arenas was looking right at me. I couldn’t stand in front of her and look her in the eye as I killed her.

  I rubbed my thumb along the rough edge of the arrow’s head, trying to figure out the most merciful way to end her suffering, when her eyes shifted from me to something behind me.

  They widened, and I didn’t waste any time turning around to see what she was staring at. I rolled sideways overtop my sword and loaded my bow. The moment I landed in a crouched position with my arrow pointed up, the Norther stood there with an empty hand held in front of her face.

  What the hell was she doing? Trying to cast a spell?

  Arenas gargled and blood came pouring out of her mouth. Right below her collarbone, at the center of her chest, was the head of an ax planted in her body—an ax that had been intended to stab me in the back.

  The Norther, obviously realizing she’d missed her mark, took a step back and aggressively tore a short blade from her side. It was pointless, though; I fired my arrow straight into her heart. She clutched at the fur around the arrow and fell to her knees, a loud thump carrying throughout the trees.

  Arenas stared ahead as if watching our attacker take their last breath, but she was already gone. Her gaze, a hollow look I’d come to know all too well on this island, remained fixated straight ahead. I shuffled toward her and with two fingers, closed her dirty eyelids.

  My throat swelled. I couldn’t do this anymore.

  How the fuck was I going to survive this? Everyone I knew was dying. I thought of Ellie, and a sickening nausea crept into my stomach. My vision blurred and the next thing I knew, I was kneeling over a moss-covered tree root, emptying hot bile from my stomach.

  “Hey!” someone shouted.

  Utterly defeated, I turned around slowly without raising a weapon.

  Kill me for all I care.

  But to my surprise, it wasn’t a Norther standing behind me.

  “Brone?” Fisher asked, pointing what appeared to be a small crossbow at me.

  Although I didn’t respond, I must have made a face she recognized—immediately, she lowered her crossbow and quickly limped toward me, dragging wet leaves under her bad leg.

  “Well, I’ll be…” Biggie said, planting two large hands on her round waist.

  “Girl, you don’t look so good,” Coin said, her lips pulled back over her golden tooth.

  They were alive? They were all alive? Was I dreaming? I widened my eyes at them and craned my neck to see who else was standing behind them.

  Out from behind Biggie came Rocket. She held a longbow in her small hands and smiled at me. Beside her was Elektra, looking
even taller than she had the last time I’d seen her. Her hair, a ginger orange, looked like it had spent a day twirling around in a drying machine. It was chaotic and unkempt, yet somehow, it suited her.

  Rocket wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “Kid here wouldn’t take no for an answer. I even tried to tie her up to stop her from coming.”

  “You should’ve,” Coin said, shaking her head. “She’s a fuckin’ kid.”

  “Language!” Rocket hissed.

  Coin’s jaw dropped, which meant something along the lines of In what world is it okay for you to bring a child to war yet scold me from swearing in front of that same child?

  “Brone, you okay?” Fisher asked, crouching down beside me.

  I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to burst into tears. This wasn’t the time to mourn—it was the time to be the leader these women needed me to be.

  Picking up my sword, I shot upright.

  “Someone upgraded,” Fisher said, eyeballing my steel blade.

  “I could say the same about you,” I said, pointing a finger at her crossbow.

  She winked and jerked her head toward Hammer, who looked plumper than usual. “Hammer here hooked me up.”

  Hammer smirked and raised her round face the way someone would after winning an award.

  I wanted to say something like We’re lucky to have you, Hammer, but I didn’t have the strength or the time to do it.

  “Rainer and her son are out there,” I said, pointing back at the city.

  Coin took a step toward me. “Her son?”

  “Where’s Tegan?” I asked.

  “Relax,” Fisher said. “She’s at the Cove. So is Proxy. A small group of women stayed behind. Tegan, well, ’cause she’s pregnant. Proxy said she wasn’t a fighter and refused to come, which is good for us. That girl’s a walkin’ encyclopedia. If we make it out of this, we need her around. Another woman stayed behind. Trish, I think her name was. She has severe sciatica and can’t walk long distances—”

  “Okay,” I said, cutting her off. “We need to move.”

  “Her son?” Coin repeated, her voice jumping up an octave.

  “Her sons,” I corrected, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

  Everyone broke out into bickering until I hissed, “Be quiet!”

  “Is that why Tegan’s—” Biggie started.

  I nodded. “Rainer’s using women to reproduce like fuckin’ cattle. That’s a conversation for another time. We can’t sit around while they’re out there slaughtering people. The guy’s huge and he’s armored from head to toe. And if we charge at him, we’re going in blind. There’s too much dirt flying around. We need to find a way to—”

  “I have an idea,” Rocket said, “but you might not like it.”

  CHAPTER 11

  “I don’t like this,” Coin said, tapping her foot in the dirt.

  Fisher shoved her out of the way. “Well, it isn’t up to you.”

  “You understand what we’re asking, right?” Rocket said, gripping Elektra’s shoulders.

  Elektra nodded as if she’d rehearsed this the night before.

  Was Rocket seriously going to sic the kid on Isaac?

  Rocket must have sensed my hesitation; she turned to me and let out a long breath through her button nose. “I’d never put her in harm’s way. She’ll be safe up there. The girl’s a freakin’ monkey. See that branch?” She pointed up to the largest tree in sight. “She could make it up there no problem and fire downward.”

  It was a solid idea, but what if Rainer ordered her women to shoot arrows up into the tree? What if Elektra lost her balance and fell to her death?

  Then, I realized everyone was staring at me. What did they want? A decision?

  “What?” I asked.

  Rocket shrugged one shoulder. “Think it’s pretty obvious that you’re in charge now, Brone.”

  I’d grown accustomed to the idea of being in charge of those I’d rescued, but my own friends? It was a strange feeling.

  But, Trim had sacrificed herself for me, and I wouldn’t let that be in vain.

  “Send her up,” I ordered. “Rocket, Fisher, Biggie, you guys stay here. Coin and Hammer know the city—they’ll come with me.”

  Everyone nodded like soldiers in rank and I turned around, prepared to make my way back into the city when someone’s warm grip wrapped around my forearm.

  “Brone,” Fisher said.

  She didn’t have to say anything for me to know what she was thinking—her slanted brows and tight thin lips told me she was afraid this was a final goodbye. I wrapped my arm around her neck and pulled her in hard, my sweaty cheek sticking against hers.

  “You guys stick together,” I said, “and everything will be okay. You hear me? I’ll be back. I promise.”

  I knew my promise meant nothing, but I needed to reassure her that I wasn’t planning on dying.

  Without another word, I turned around and ran along the city’s perimeter, ignoring the pain around my ankles from the shackles. Coin and Hammer followed close behind.

  “Where we goin’?” Coin asked, jogging fast to catch up.

  “If Rocket’s plan fails,” I said, “we need a plan B, and there’s only one person on this island who stands a chance against Isaac.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Voices erupted all around and women cowered in the corners of Rainer’s lair.

  “Relax!” Sammy shouted. “She’s with us. They all are.”

  The pregnant women held onto their stomachs as if letting go would result in their child’s death. They were afraid, and I didn’t blame them. But the truth was, no one wanted to harm the mothers—not my people, and certainly not Rainer.

  If anyone was safe, it was them.

  “What’s going on out there?” Sammy asked.

  I shook my head as a way of saying, It isn’t good.

  The cavern had filled up quite a bit since I’d left. Slaves from within the city had found their way inside, no doubt looking to get as far away from the battle as possible.

  “Where’s Hawkins?” I asked, searching the torch-lit room.

  Sammy shrugged. “She went after Rainer.”

  “Where’s Murk?” I asked.

  Another shrug.

  With the back of my wrist, I wiped dirt and blood away from my brow. Everything was so chaotic. I hated being unable to control anything, but I couldn’t give up. Despite the mess we were in, I had to keep moving.

  When something tapped me on the shoulder, I turned around to find BluJay standing still, her short blond hair sticking out in every direction. She forced a shy smile and waved to say, Hello.

  “BluJay!” I said. “You’re okay.”

  She nodded, the cute smile never leaving her childlike face. She made a few gestures, though I couldn’t quite figure out what she was saying. At last, she placed a hand on either side of her body and threaded her fingers together over her stomach.

  “You’re pregnant?” I asked.

  Smiling, she nodded.

  I didn’t understand what there was to smile about. How did anyone smile about being forced into pregnancy through rape? And how did she know she was pregnant? It had only been a few days. I clenched my teeth and glared toward Rainer’s throne. From here, I could see Eliot’s figure sitting behind it, and although I’d come here to ask for his help, all I wanted to do was kill him now.

  The moment I marched toward him, BluJay grabbed me by the wrist and turned me around. With both palms facing upright, she brought her right one to her lips and pointed at Eliot.

  What was that supposed to mean?

  “Did he hurt you?” I asked.

  She shook her head and made that same gesture.

  “He’s good?” I asked. “Kind?”

  She nodded.

  I stared at his dark hair floating right above the back of Rainer’s throne. Around him was empty space, which meant the women in here were too afraid to sit close to him. Why hadn’t he left? Why was he still in here? Was Bl
uJay right? Was he kind?

  I glanced back at Coin and Hammer, who were still catching their breaths. “Wait here.”

  Slowly, I made my way to the back of the room. Gliding my fingers along the throne’s wooden arch, I reached Eliot’s side. He didn’t look up at me. Instead, he sat with his elbows on his knees and his head held in his large, veiny hands.

  Dark curls sprang out between his fingers, and his massive back moved up and down as he breathed.

  “Eliot?” I asked.

  He flinched at the sound of his name and looked up at me with wet, bloodshot eyes.

  “It’s me. Brone.” I leaned forward.

  He stared at me, confused, with creases around his nose and eyes.

  When I sat on the floor in front of him, he pulled his feet closer to his body and wrapped his arms around his hairy legs.

  “I heard you speak earlier. Can you speak English?” I asked.

  At first, he didn’t respond, but then, his bearded face moved up and down. I wasn’t sure how well he spoke English, but it was a relief to know he understood what I was saying.

  “I’m so sorry this is happening,” I said. “I can’t imagine how hard this is on you.”

  He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his arm. Right then, I didn’t see hair on his chest or large bulging muscles—I saw a frightened boy who wanted nothing to do with this war.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  Slowly, his dark eyes rolled up at me. “Fight,” he said, his voice deep and hoarse.

  “Fight?” I asked.

  “Pain is all I know,” he said. “My mother… she trained me and my brother to fight. I hurt people. In many ways. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’m not like my brother. I don’t want this life.”

  His last words came out as more of a squeal, and with his palms, he covered his tear-filled eyes.

  “Eliot,” I said softly, and he looked up at me again. “You don’t have to live this life. There’s so much out there that you know nothing about. You can help us stop this.”

  He lowered his hands, staring into me as if I held a key to some magical world.

 

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