The Lawless

by Dylan Steel

  “You’re sisters.”

  “No,” Carnabel said, clenching her fists by her side as she swallowed hard, “because my sister’s dead.”

  “I’m not, Carn. The Bennicks got me out… and it’s time I returned the favor.” Clarette glanced in Sage’s direction. “You need to let us by.”

  Carnabel hesitated, her brow furrowed with indecision. She looked back over her shoulder and locked eyes with Clarette, lowering her voice. “You can really get me out?”

  “I can. I will. But you have to let us through.”

  “I…” Carnabel shifted her weight, her mind waging war with itself. “I can’t wait. You have to get me out now.”

  “Carn, we need to—”

  “Now.” Carnabel raised a hand to her ear, drawing their attention to the small device resting there as her fingers hovered just above it. “Or I let them know you’re here.”

  Clarette blinked in surprise, then nodded slowly, raising her hands. “Ok. Ok, now.” She turned to Sage, looking apologetic. “It’s the only way.”

  Sage’s stomach churned uneasily. What was she agreeing to do?

  “You can go alone from here.”

  Sage took a step back. “No—”

  “You’ve already seen the layout inside,” Clarette continued hastily, “and once you get to him, Mr. Bennick will know the way out.”

  “This wasn’t what we—”

  “Sage. She’s my sister.” Her eyes begged for understanding. “I have no more of a choice than you do.”

  “If I can’t save Weston because of her—”

  “—Then at least the Lawless will be around to fight another day,” Clarette interrupted, stone-faced.

  Sage narrowed her eyes accusingly. There was no point in arguing, and they both knew it. Clarette would fight for Carnabel the same way she was fighting for Weston. And right now, time was slipping away as quickly as her allies.

  “Fine.”

  Carnabel hesitated, then held out the stick she’d threatened her with a few minutes earlier. “Here.” She shrugged nonchalantly as she handed it to her. “Not totally lethal, but it might help more than…” Her eyebrow jerked toward the knife still in Sage’s hand.

  Taking the stick, Sage anchored it against her hip, nodding a silent, begrudging thanks. Then without another word, she turned toward the door, brushing roughly past her old classmate.

  “Hang on a sec. Take this too.” Clarette pulled something from her pocket, tossing it at her.

  Sage caught it, her brows creasing as she stared down at the oddly shaped tech now in her hand.

  “It’s more brute force than a key,” Clarette explained. “But it should get you into the cell—in case you can’t convince the guards to cooperate.”

  “Thanks,” Sage muttered and pocketed the tech, hurrying the rest of the way down the hall. She didn’t have to turn around to know what the two sets of fading footsteps behind her meant.

  She was on her own now.

  10. GUARDED

  Holding her breath, Sage pushed the door open with trembling hands. She hoped she didn’t have terrible timing—that she wasn’t about to run straight into a guard.

  Fortunately, the tunnel didn’t spill out directly into the Dungeon’s main entry, which was the area most likely to be manned. She closed the door behind her and paused, taking a minute to assess where she was. It was easy to see how the guards would miss seeing the tunnel door—its outline blended seamlessly with the pattern repeated along the exterior hallway walls, not standing out among the cell doors that lined the opposite side of the hall. Even knowing where she’d just emerged, it was hard for her to tell where it was.

  Squaring her shoulders, Sage tugged on the base of her uniform and moved forward boldly, stuffing down her frustration. Without Clarette’s guidance, she couldn’t be sure which branch of the Dungeon the tunnel had deposited her in. She’d have to make her way to the central entrance to get her bearings and be sure she found the right hallway. For all she knew, Weston was in one of the cells she was passing, but she couldn’t afford to try unlocking each one on a guess. There wasn’t time.

  She was painfully aware of the volume of her own footsteps echoing off the walls, but she forced herself to maintain a steady pace. If she could sense any panic in her gait, the guards probably could too. The hallway was lined with doors, but they were all locked. There was nowhere to hide suddenly if a guard decided to turn down this hallway.

  She reminded herself that she was in uniform and well disguised—that she couldn’t be recognized or perceived as a threat until she was close enough to fight. The only problem would be ending the fight before anyone else nearby could hear a struggle.

  There was likely to be a guard posted at the central hub, but she was nearly at the end of this hall now and hadn’t run into any officers yet. She could only hope that meant the Rogues were doing their part, inciting enough chaos to force guards to be reassigned rather than aimlessly patrol the corridors of a secret prison.

  Her heart pounded harder as she got close enough to the end of the hall to see around the corner.

  She wasn’t alone.

  The guard’s broad back was facing her as she neared him, but he quickly turned at the sound of her approach, and the little confidence she still had plummeted to the floor when she saw his face.

  “Firecracker?”

  “Boulder.” Her gaze darted frantically around the room. As far as she could tell, they were alone, but she didn’t know how strong their friendship was anymore—and no matter how skilled she was, it would still be difficult to take on someone twice her size.

  “I didn’t…” Boulder’s brows knit together, his shoulders sagging slightly as he lowered his voice. “They said you were dead.”

  Pushing aside a surge of guilt, she quickly reached for Carnabel’s stick, raising it between them.

  “I’m not.”

  He cocked his head, slowly raising his palms toward her. “There’s no need for that, now.”

  “I want to believe that,” she said, taking a step closer, “but I can’t afford to be wrong.”

  “Firecracker…”

  “Are you alone?”

  He frowned. “Am I—”

  “Are there any other officers down here now?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Just me. We had a skeleton crew earlier, but the others were retasked in the last hour.”

  “Retasked?” It took every effort to maintain a neutral voice, to keep hope from bleeding into her tone. The Rogues hadn’t wasted any time following her signal. Good.

  “They’ll be gone for a while.” His features twisted, duty and friendship clearly clashing internally. “Sage, do you know what that is?” He nodded toward the stick cautiously. “The kind of damage it can do?”

  Her eyes flitted to the spark crackling over its tip before returning her attention to Boulder. “Of course, I know,” she retorted, jabbing it forward another inch for emphasis.

  She didn’t know, actually, but it wouldn’t help to admit it.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. His eye twitched as he watched her warily. “If you needed help, you could’ve asked. You shouldn’t have come here.”

  “I didn’t know you’d be here…” She bit the inside of her lip, desperately trying to think through her options. She’d been identified now, and time was running out before the rest of the Peace figured out that the Rogues were just providing a distraction. Boulder was a threat—one that needed to be eliminated—but he was also a friend.

  “Where else would I be, Firecracker? You know what my job is.”

  Her stomach turned. Interrogation. She’d actually forgotten. Had he been the one to leave those bruises on Weston?

  He lowered his hands slowly, taking a step closer as he softened his tone. “You’re in trouble. I can help.”

  “No.” She tightened her grip on the stick, raising it higher. Boulder stopped again. “This isn’t about me.”

  “Then, what?�
��

  She gritted her teeth. “Take me to him.”

  “To who?”

  “Weston.”

  “Wish I could, Firecracker, but he’s not here.”

  Sage’s shoulders stiffened. “Don’t play games with me, Boulder. I know he’s here.”

  “You really think the Quorum would keep such a high-profile prisoner here?”

  “I think most people have no idea this place exists, which makes it the perfect place to keep any prisoner—” she hurried to finish as he opened his mouth to object again, “—and besides that, I’ve seen him.”

  He snapped his mouth closed, studying her.

  She pressed further. “I know you’re good at spotting lies. And you know I’m good at tech. So tell me right now—which one of us is lying?”

  A muscle jumped in his jaw as he stared back at her without saying a word. He shook his head slowly. “I take you to him, and losing my job will be the least of my worries. You know how things work around here.”

  “I’m sorry, but I wasn’t asking.” She jerked her head to the side. “After you.”

  Boulder sighed, taking another step toward her as she held the stick threateningly between them.

  “That’s close enough,” she warned. “I just need you to lead the way.”

  “And you’d really use that on me?”

  She swallowed, pushing back another stab of guilt. “Better than the alternative,” she said, mustering as much indifference as she could.

  “I’m glad you’re not, by the way.”

  “Not what?”

  “Dead.”

  She blinked, forcing down her emotions as she gritted her teeth. “Just move.”

  His shoulders tensed as he moved toward one of the hallways. “I thought we were friends, Firecracker.”

  “Stop.” She glanced at the hall Boulder was about to start down. Any remaining sense of remorse vanished as her eyes narrowed to slits. “I thought we were too. But that’s the wrong way.”

  “No, it’s—”

  “I told you I was good at tech.” She cocked her head toward the stick, letting electricity snap and flow across its tip. “I know he’s not down that hall.”

  Boulder’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m trying to help you, Firecracker. I swear.”

  “All I need is for you to lead the way.”

  He took a step toward her. “I can tell them you surrendered. They don’t have to know about any of this. We both get to walk out of here without—”

  “I already told you.” She raised the stick, refusing to back down. “I’m here for Weston. You can either take me to his cell, or I can drop you on the floor right now.”

  His expression hardened, all traces of his earlier friendliness vanished. “Alright, then.”

  Turning on his heel, he marched toward a different hallway. Sage followed, careful to keep enough space between them that she would have time to react if he suddenly decided to become less cooperative.

  The distance to Weston’s cell stretched on for what felt like forever, the silence between the two former friends punctuated only by the thudding of their footsteps. Sage kept Carnabel’s stick in front of her as her eyes roamed up and down the hallway constantly. After he’d just tried to trick her, she was no longer sure she could believe him when he’d said that they were really alone.

  Stopping outside the door to Weston’s cell, Boulder turned to Sage expectantly. “Now, what?”

  She arched her brow at him. “Now, you open the door.”

  “Not an option.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Not asking.”

  “I’m not…” He blew out a frustrated breath, gesturing toward the pad beside the door. “I don’t have access. Only a few people do, and they outrank me. Even if I wanted to open it, I couldn’t.”

  Sage hesitated, considering her options. It didn’t matter if he was telling the truth or not. Clarette’s tech would get her through the door, but she hadn’t really had a chance to explain what it did. For all she knew, it might set off an alarm and draw more officers. Not to mention the issue of trying to use the tech with Boulder standing right there. She’d either have to risk him attacking her while she was distracted, or she’d have to have him use it and risk him destroying her only way of getting inside the cell.

  She stared at Boulder, still contemplating. There were no good options unless she wanted to consider hurting him—and she hated that thought. He might have tried to trick her, but he really might have thought it was for the best. They had been friends, after all.

  Biting her lip, she tilted her head and noticed something shiny against his belt for the first time. A wave of relief swept over her.

  “Cuff yourself.”

  “You can’t be—”

  “Do it, Boulder.”

  He glared at her, taking out his restraints.

  “No, behind your back. Turn around so I can see.”

  “This isn’t necessary,” he muttered under his breath.

  She ignored him. “Good. Over there,” she said, motioning him away from the cell. “Now, get on the ground. On your stomach.”

  Shaking his head, he lowered himself down slowly. He shot her one final disapproving glance before turning and facing the floor wordlessly.

  “Don’t move,” she ordered.

  Without taking her eyes off him, she reached into her pocket, pulling out the tech Clarette had given her. Hands shaking, she pressed it onto the side of the scanner. She had no idea what to expect, but the near-instant pop and smoke and hissing now coming from the scanner certainly wasn’t it.

  The harsh clunk of the interior lock bursting free set her heart racing. Forcing herself to breathe, she placed her palm on the door, giving it a slight push. It gave way easily, but she stopped short of opening it fully.

  It took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to run inside immediately.

  “Ok, you can get up,” she said, injecting an unnatural calmness into her voice.

  Boulder grunted as he struggled to his feet without the use of his arms. His silence was all the confirmation she needed as to how he felt about this new turn in their friendship.

  Ignoring the twisting sensation in her chest again, she locked eyes with him and nodded toward the cell.

  “You first.”

  11. TRADE

  Boulder made his way inside the cell, pausing halfway to look back at Sage over his shoulder. Her eyes flicked from him to the man lying on the metal cot along the wall. Gritting her teeth, she jerked her head toward the opposite wall.

  “Over there. On the ground again.”

  His jaw worked back and forth in frustration as he silently lowered himself to the floor once more. Only after he was settled and no longer moving did Sage dare risk a glance away.

  Even with the noise of them entering, the man already in the cell hadn’t stirred. Her stomach roiled. She knew he’d been interrogated again after she’d seen him—but how far had they gone?

  “Weston?” Sage asked softly, taking a tentative step closer.

  No response.

  She put a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Weston.”

  The prisoner’s shoulders stiffened for a moment before he inhaled deeply. He turned, and Sage sucked in a sharp breath. The man in front of her was a shell. It was Weston alright, but seeing him in person was far more brutal than watching from a distant camera.

  He looked different than she’d ever seen him before. Gaunt features, hollow eyes. Of course, still no visible bruises above his collar—Mr. Gaztok would have been very careful not to leave any marks before parading him in public.

  “Sage?” His voice was no more than a hoarse whisper.

  “It’s me.” Relief flooded her chest. “We’re getting you out of here.”

  His brows tensed as he shifted his weight. “You shouldn’t have come. They’ll—”

  “Stop.” She blinked back tears. “I wasn’t about to leave you.”

  “But you were safe.” He wi
nced as he struggled to push himself up on his elbows. His breathing was shallow. “You need to get out. Now. I’ll only slow you down.”

  She snorted softly, supporting his back as he tried to finish sitting up. “Don’t be a trazk. I didn’t come this far just to leave you. And besides, I couldn’t if I wanted to—I need a guide to get back through the tunnels.”

  He shook his head. “But now they know you’re a—”

  “Oomphf.”

  A bright light exploded in her skull, and Sage staggered sideways, clutching her head. The electrified stick clattered to the ground. Boulder stood between her and Weston, watching warily as the benefactor crumpled back against his cot with a strained groan.

  “Sorry about that, Firecracker. But I can’t let you take him out of here.”

  “Boul…” Her speech slurred as she looked back at him in shock. “How—”

  “You didn’t think I’d have the key to my own cuffs?” His lips curled in disgust. “You really should’ve let me help you. There’s nothing I can do for you now. Not after—”

  “I don’t need your help,” she snapped, steadying herself as she faced him. She dropped her hands from her head, ignoring the pounding in her skull to assume a defensive stance. “I just need to leave.”

  “And I can’t let you do that,” Boulder said grimly. “I have orders. The kind you can’t disobey.”

  Sage gritted her teeth. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

  She didn’t wait for his answer. Her fist sailed through the air, but before it found its mark, she felt her arm being wrenched from its socket. Stars burst in her vision as her body spun around, slamming against the wall.

  Dizziness and a searing pain in her jaw overwhelmed her, and her legs gave out underneath her. But she didn’t fall. She couldn’t. Her body was cemented between two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle and an equally unyielding steel wall.

  “Doesn’t really matter, does it? You’re not leaving.”

  “Boulder… stop—”

  “I’m kind of disappointed in you, Firecracker.” Boulder leaned harder against her, grinding her cheek against the wall as she gasped for breath. He lowered his voice as he spoke in her ear, “I really thought the Kunbriat overreacted in your case, but I guess I was wrong. Your only loyalty is to yourself.”