by Travis Brett
“The deals over.” Sparks began to back away. “You broke it when you chose to obey Roman and lie to me.”
At least Caleb had the decency to look guilty. “The deal is not over,” he said. “I won’t go against Roman — he’s a better man than you think, and he’s the one who paid for you, not me. But I’m on your side, Sparks. We made a deal, and I don’t break my deals. That’s a mercenary's code.”
Sparks’ resolve almost broke, but the thought of going back to Roman now — and to continue working for that lying bastard — was enough to stop him from lowering the gun. He turned to leave, but hesitated, feeling like he needed to say something more. To apologize, at least. But he couldn’t think of anything that felt right.
Finally, he said: "Don't follow me." Then he walked away, climbing over the mounds of rubble. Caleb obeyed, even though a part of Sparks wished he didn’t.
After he left the station, Sparks paused in the middle of an intersection, considering what to do next. He had his own activation needles, and he was free. He could do whatever the hell he wanted.
Sparks took a deep breath and smiled.
He had done it.
He was free.
17
Roman crept closer, barely daring to breathe. His footsteps felt impossibly loud. His knuckles wound tight around the grip of his revolver. Three shots left. It didn’t feel nearly enough. As he approached, the flickering light grew brighter, coming from around a corner.
Heart pounding against his ribs, Roman pressed himself flat against the wall and shuffled along to the corner. He strained his ears, listening. It was silent as an abandoned block in the outskirts.
He peered around.
Another corridor. Barred cells lined each side, and at the lip of each open cell door, a candle lay on the ground. There were over a dozen, casting shaking shadows across the walls. No sign of people.
Roman let out the breath he was holding. Walking down the corridor, something crunched beneath his boots. Fragments of glass. He looked up to see that the light bulbs lining the roof had all been smashed.
They were too late; Candle had already been here.
“Well, screw me sideways.” Tan hesitantly followed Roman. “This is creepy as hell. Too theatrical for my taste.”
Roman paused at each cell, looking inside. Empty. The last two hadn’t been unlocked, nor did they have candles outside — these ones must have been empty from the start.
Roman counted the candles.
“Fourteen,” he said. “I didn’t think Gavin had so many fighters.”
“Well, he ain’t got them no more.”
Roman stomped his boot down on a candle, then kicked another one down the corridor.
“Boss.” Tan laid a hand on Roman’s shoulder. “This is no longer a fight we can win, if it ever was one. We need to get out of here and find Ruby, then hide until . . . well, just hide. Preferably with a lot of alcohol. Okay?”
Ruby. Where was she now?
“Like hell we do.” Roman took off at a limping jog, heading back the way they came.
Tan followed. “Why do I have the feeling you’ve got another stupid plan stuck in that thick skull of yours?”
“I don’t. But we need one, and we—”
“No. We’ve done enough. We have to leave it to Juliette and—”
Roman spun around, grabbing Tan by his collar. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t something you can drink away. What do you expect Candle will do now? Because my bet is that he’s going to attack the wind farms and free every bastard there. And once those rogues get loose in Legacy, we’re all dead.”
“But what can we do?”
“I don’t know. Something. Anything! Right now, we need to find Ruby. Once we know she’s safe, we’ll come up with a plan.”
As they ran back Roman listened for sounds of fighting but heard nothing except his own footsteps. He clenched his teeth, anxious. What were they going to find in the hall: Gavin’s men, or Candle’s?
Reaching the stairs, they slowed to a walk. Ahead, Roman heard whimpers, moans of pain, and the dull pounding of rain.
The walls on his sides fell away — in the complete darkness, that was the only way he could tell that they had entered the main hall. The air reeked of blood and piss. He inched forward, nearly tripping on something. He gave it a soft kick. It was a corpse.
To his left, someone was crying.
Panic crawled up Romans throat, threatening to suffocate him. “Ruby!” he yelled.
A few dull moans were the only response.
Blood pounding in his ears, Roman stepped over the corpse at his feet. Two steps later he came across another body. He reached down and touched it: a large man, rolled onto his side. When Roman ran a hand down the man’s arm, the limb ended halfway.
The first three bodies were men. Roman quickly moved past them. By the time he reached the forth, his hands were sticky with blood. His blind grasp found the leg first. Thin, slender — a woman’s leg. Her trousers were damp. He couldn’t tell if it was blood or urine. Frantically, he moved his hands to her hair. It ended at her neck; too short to be Ruby’s.
He scrambled to another corpse, this one a man. Next, a woman, but too large to be Ruby. Then it was four men in a row. Each one he found brought a wave of relief when he realized it wasn’t her, then the dread would return as he moved to the next. His throat felt tight, like someone was choking him.
“She would have escaped, I’m sure of it,” Tan said. “But we have to go, and quickly.”
“Shut up and help me!”
Tan grabbed Roman by his coat, but Roman pushed him away. “She can’t be dead,” he said, breathless. “She can’t be. She just CAN’T BE!”
He tripped over the next body, knees stinging as they hit the floor. There was a sharp grunt of pain — this woman was alive.
Roman reached out, his hand finding hers. Long, cold fingers clung tight to him.
“Ruby?” he breathed.
She gave a weak gargling sound.
His other hand found her face, cupping against her cheek. It wasn’t her.
“I’m sorry,” Roman said slowly, “Whoever you are. I can’t save you.”
He pulled away, but the woman’s hand wouldn’t let go, her grip was impossibly strong. Using his other hand, Roman peeled her fingers off him. It felt heartless and cruel. But he couldn’t wait here, comforting her while she waited to die. He had to find Ruby.
“Get up, now,” Tan hissed.
“I told you, help me find—”
“There’s someone else here.”
Roman stopped, listening. Rain pounded against the roof. Thunder rumbled. But also: light footsteps, shuffling of clothes, shallow breathing. It was more than just someone. It was a group.
A spike of fear brought Roman back to his senses. Why had he been searching for Ruby here? Of course she would have gotten out. She must have gotten out.
“Get around them,” he whispered quietly to Tan. “Find the door. We’ll regroup outside.”
Carefully stepping over bodies, Roman crept to the side. The sounds of people moving grew louder. He tried to count the footsteps. There were at least six.
His boot found something slippery. Cursing under his breath, he stepped around it. He didn’t have to imagine to know what the hall around him must look like: a hundred mangled corpses scattered, lying alone, or stacked together, bathed in their own blood. Roman’s memory flashed back to when he had first seen the chaos an Adrenalite could unleash: the street where Stevens died.
A voice rang through the hall. “We know you’re here. Just come out and get it over with, my good man.”
Roman knew that voice, he aimed his gun in the direction it came from and fired.
For a split second, the flash of light revealed his surroundings. His heart dropped. There were over two dozen men in a semicircle around him. Gavin stood in the centre, a pistol in his hands. Roman had barely missed him.
Ears still ringing, Roman aimed
again.
“We’ve got her,” Gavin said calmly.
Terror washed over Roman. His fingers clenched tight over the trigger, but he lowered the gun. “Where?”
“Outside. Come and see for yourself.”
“You’re lying!”
“Willing to bet her life on it?”
Roman’s shoulders sagged. Gavin had him, and he knew it.
“Fine. I’ll come out.” He tucked his pistol into his belt. And even though the gesture was meaningless in the dark, he raised his hands. “But if you hurt her, I swear to whatever gods are out there, I’ll—”
“No. Don’t you fucking dare make threats to me,” Gavin hissed. “Not you. Not today.”
Roman bit his tongue.
“Now, where’s that lanky boy of yours?” Gavin asked.
Roman opened his mouth, ready to lie, but paused. Someone was running towards Gavin. Then came the distinct crunch of a fist meeting a face.
“Ha!” Tan shouted victoriously from the darkness. “That was for my hair, you son-of-a-triple-breasted-whore!”
Roman groaned. “Tan. Give it up.”
“Of course, Boss. I totally surrender too. I just had to get one good swing, you understand?”
The room fell into silence. Roman hoped that Tan hadn’t just got them killed. Gavin was the first to speak, his voice was slurred — Tan must have knocked out some teeth. “You’re going to regret that.”
Roman couldn’t see what was happening, but judging by the noise, he knew that Tan didn’t put up a fight. Roman flinched with every sound; the thump of fists against flesh; Tan’s muffled groans; Gavin’s angry shouts. It took all his self-control not to rush over to his friend’s defence. But he couldn’t. If Gavin’s men really did have Ruby . . .
Finally, it was over. Roman’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, just enough to see the outlines of the two thugs walking towards him. They grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him forward. Roman kept his mouth shut, afraid of angering Gavin further.
Twenty steps outside of the hall, Roman was soaked. His wet clothes clung to his skin, making him shiver. Water pooled inside his left boot, sloshing around with each step. Another flash of lightning tore across the sky, illuminating the compound. Even out here, bodies were strewn around. The rain mixed with their blood to form pale red puddles.
Behind him, one of the thugs dragged Tan by the ankle. Tan was unconscious, leaving a thin trail of scarlet; half his face was a puffy, purple mess.
Looking at his friend, Roman’s hands shook with rage. Gavin was going to pay for this.
The harsh scraping of steel against concrete dug at his ears — Gavin had taken an axe from one of his thugs and was dragging it behind him. The gangster’s deformed eye was swollen and bloodshot, his lip split and nose bent at an unnatural angle. He looked more beast than human. Gavin led them down a thin alleyway, then stopped to unbolt a steel door. It opened with a piercing squeal.
The inside was lit by a candle. Roman shuddered at the sight of it. Three thugs rested against the wall, nursing wounds. One of them — his leg a mangled mess — had passed out, his face whiter than the bone sticking out of his shin. He was covered in his own vomit. The smell was beyond foul. A thug pushed Roman to his knees. He didn’t resist.
Ruby was curled in the corner, wet hair strewn across her face. Eyes closed, her arms held her knees tight against her chest.
“Ruby!” Roman shouted at her. She didn’t respond.
Something hard thumped against the back of his head, and Roman fell forward. Gavin stepped in front of Ruby and pushed her hair out of her face, revealing a deep red bruise on her left temple. “I don’t think our fair lady is going to be waking up anytime soon.”
“Don’t touch her.” Roman fought to stand, but hands grabbed his shoulders and forced him down. He twisted and writhed. It was no use.
Gavin knelt in front of him, snarling like a feral mutt. Lifting his axe, he placed its cold edge against Roman’s neck, slowly sliding the metal back and forth over the skin as if deciding where to slice. “I thought I told you,” he growled. “Today is not the day for threats.”
Roman didn’t let himself flinch. “If you were going to kill me, you would have already done it,” he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.
“Well, yes. I wasn’t planning on killing you. But when you act like such a fucking asshole . . .” he withdrew the axe, then grabbed Roman by the hair and slammed his face against the floor. Roman gasped. It felt like his head had split open as surely as if Gavin had used the axe.
“. . . it really strains my self-control,” Gavin finished. “I can only be so merciful.”
“What do you want?” Roman spat.
“I want my little birds back. And I want that fucker Candle’s head on a stick.”
Roman kept silent, eyes stuck on Ruby. Why hadn’t Gavin killed her, or him? If the bastard was keeping them alive just so he could punish them slowly—
His pistol felt impossibly heavy. Two shots left. If it came down to it, he could save Ruby and Tan from torture.
“I supposed I should thank you.” Gavin’s voice dropped to little more than a whisper. “It was you who engineered the power cut, wasn’t it? Without that, we’d probably all be dead. The blue bastards make for easy targets in the dark.”
“What happened up there?” Roman didn’t want to ask, but he had to know. “How many did you kill?”
“We killed four. Not enough. Not fucking enough!” Gavin reinforced his last line by slamming his axe against the floor. “And it was just a distraction, so that bastard could steal my birds.”
Roman’s memory flashed back the fighting hall, stumbling over hundreds of bodies. Just a distraction. A surge of anger rushed through him. He pushed himself back to his knees and looked Gavin in his hideous, mismatched eyes.
“So what are you going to do about it?” Roman demanded.
Gavin leaned forward, stopping when his face was inches away from Roman’s. His breath reeked. “Right now, I’m going to do what I should have done last time you came here. You see, I gave you the chance to bring Candle to me. I even offered to pay. But what did you do?” He grabbed Roman by the neck, fingers squeezing enough to make breathing hard. “You tried to steal Spencer from me. From me! So now I’m no longer asking you politely. You will find Candle, and you will bring him back here alive so that I can kill him myself.”
Roman tried to speak, but he could barely force air through his throat, let alone words.
“And your precious Ruby?” Gavin spat her name. “She going to stay here with me, understand? I’ll give you three days to capture Candle and bring him to me. After that, I kill her.” He released Roman’s neck.
Roman felt dizzy. His eyes flicked to the axe in Gavin’s hand, then to Ruby. “Three days . . .” he said, barely even whispering. “How the hell am I meant to manage that?”
“Be creative.”
“I can’t capture him alive, not in three days. Maybe if I could kill him, then—”
“You don’t understand. Someone is going to suffer for what happened tonight, and I can’t make a corpse suffer. It’s either going to be Candle, or your little lady friend. Your choice.”
“Why her?”
“Because it’ll drive you mad.”
This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Roman took a deep breath, trying to focus. “I can bring you Candle, but I need Ruby with me. I promise you, we’ll do everything we can. Just let me take her—”
Gavin kicked Roman in the gut. It wasn’t even a forceful blow, but it was enough to knock Roman back onto the ground. “This isn’t a discussion. Now go. Take your lunatic friend with you. And believe me when I say that if I see either of you back here, without Candle, then your girl is going to die in the slowest manner possible. Got it?”
Roman swallowed. What could he do? Absolutely nothing. That’s what. I really have fucked up this time.
“If I get myself killed,” Roman said, �
��you won’t have any reason to hurt Ruby. Right?”
Gavin considered. “If I’m sure you’ve died, then . . . I might resign myself to letting her go.”
“You fucking better,” Roman muttered under his breath. Reluctantly, he tore his gaze off Ruby and climbed to his feet. He grabbed Tan and lifted his limp form onto his shoulders, then took three weary steps to the door. Roman hesitated, turning, desperate to get another look at Ruby.
Candle motioned to the door. “I told you to leave.”
Suddenly, Ruby’s eyes snapped open. She stared straight at Roman, who nearly dropped Tan in shock. She mouthed one word.
Leave.
Gavin stepped towards Roman, axe raised — he couldn’t see that Ruby was conscious.
Roman’s jaw clenched so tight it hurt. He hated himself for leaving Ruby here, with Gavin and his brutes, but he didn’t have a choice. If he tried anything now, there was no doubt Gavin would kill her. He wasn’t the kind of man who made idle threats.
Ashamed at himself for being so powerless, Roman hung his head. “I’ll be back,” he said quietly. “I promise.”
* * *
Roman made it barely two hundred yards from the Haven before the last of his strength failed him. He stumbled to the footpath, under the shelter of a low-hanging veranda, and sat. He dropped Tan’s unconscious body next to him.
The street was deserted. No surprise there. Roman suspected the entire district was mostly abandoned by now. News of rogue Adrenalite attacks always spread rapidly. Most likely people would flee to the centre districts, as close to the ministry as they could get. It would be useless; the ministry couldn’t protect them, not now that Candle had Gavin’s fighters on his side.
Roman wrapped his coat around himself. The storm showed no sign of ending. Water pooled in the gutters, quickly rising. The pounding of rain on concrete created a constant rumbling, like distant thunder, occasionally accented by the roar of actual thunder.
Tan’s eyes opened. “Where are we?”
“We’re fucked. That’s where we are.”