“I’ve heard that one before. So many times over the last seven months and not one word of it was true, was it? We all said we’d serve and protect the city, but you’ve got to protect us in return and you’re not holding up your end of the bargain.” William stood to leave, nodding at the others to follow suit. “You have some serious work to do to make this right, grandfather.” He looked at Walter. “You make me ashamed to be a Poisonwood.”
William walked out, with the others following close behind. He stormed down the hall, unable to breathe as he desperately tried to control his anger. It was a long walk back to the safety of the basement, passed the bedrooms and the training rooms, but his rage held until he got there. They sat down in Captain Summers' office, no longer obliged to keep up the façade. Kasper put his head in his hands and cried, while the other two were silent and serious, trying to process the fact that one of their men had been lost.
“He went down fighting,” Irvine said gently, patting Kasper on his shoulder.
“It shouldn’t have happened like that. This is Walter’s fault,” William said coldly.
“It’s Walter’s and Silverwall’s fault. They killed him,” said Alaster. William had long thought of Alaster as the backbone of the Shadow Army. A wild and overly blunt boy, he could always be relied on for brutal honesty whenever it was needed most.
“There’s something going on here, guys,” he said. “This isn’t how we die. Ever. Not in some stupid prison incident. That’s not how it works and you know that. Walter negotiates or we go in and get them. But this time he left them there to rot. He just kept on saying no. Damn it!” William hit the wall angrily. Pain spread through his fist, blazing and throbbing. It made him feel stronger. He was ready for a fight. “I should have gone anyway. We all should have gone. We let Zachary down.”
William allowed himself to sit. Silence descended over the quartet as the sinking weight of grief united them. He gazed at the peeling plaster on Captain Summers’ wall, at the faded Shadow training memorabilia, promoting techniques and processes long out of practise. The cheap strip lighting above them buzzed and made their heads and eyes hurt, contributing to the sickness which was setting in.
Kasper lifted his head at last. “We’ll go in. However many of us want to go, we’ll go. We’ll get the others out. Forget what the old man says. Forget what any of them say.”
William nodded and stood again. “We should have done this a long time ago. We can’t let this happen again.”
The others stood in agreement and nodded also.
“So how do we tell everyone? What are we going to do?” Alaster quietly asked.
They looked at each other doubtfully for a long time. Finally, breathing in deeply, William said, “I’ll do it. Let’s do it now. Come on."
Bracing themselves, the quartet left the safety of the Captain’s office and headed into the central training room, where a vast majority of the Shadows were working. For a few seconds, William felt nervous, but his anger gave him confidence. He stood at the top of the room, the other three close by his side. Initially, nobody noticed that he wanted their attention, but then Alaster bellowed, “Hey!” and as those near the front stepped forward curiously, the others noticed too and followed.
Biting his lip, William swallowed and began to speak, his voice wavering, “Something bad has happened and we have to take action. We all have to work together and fix this.” He paused and glanced at his friends for support. Locking eyes with Kasper, who nodded, William turned back to the crowd. “The men of Silverwall City have stabbed Zachary. I’m sorry, but he’s dead.”
As soon as he said it, William looked down. Hearing the words coming out of his mouth made it real all over again. The numbness that had spread through him over the last few minutes was gone and he was raw once more. It was like knives all over his body, fuelling his rage. The Shadows who stood before him had drawn their breath in shock and now talked between themselves, simultaneously worried, sad, scared and seething. They looked to William to see what else he had to say.
“For seven months now, Walter has evaded any questions we’ve had about a rescue plan for our friends. He didn’t have one then and he doesn’t have one now. He refused to negotiate and he refused to let us go in and get the boys. And now it’s too late for one of them. So, we are going to take matters into our own hands. We’ll formulate a plan and rescue the others ourselves, regardless of whether we’re told yes or no. We will do this alone. Who’s with us?”
The Shadows nodded, as shouts of agreement spread across the room.
He raised his voice even more. “We know where the boys are. It’s the Silverwall City prison unit on the outskirts. I don’t know why this incident is different to any of the others, but Walter and the Council won’t tell us anything, so I don’t care anymore. We need to get Wade and Joshua back here where they belong before we do anything else for that corrupt, out of touch old man!"
Cheers resounded through the room, echoing all around. It filled William with pride and relief. He felt unified with the Army again and was ecstatic at the realisation that he wasn’t alone anymore.
Chapter Seven
Deep in the depths of the woods, the Shadow Army travelled day and night, stopping whenever they needed food and rest. The ground beneath their feet was soft and moist, while the air was clean and fresh, sweetened by recent rainfall. Spring had arrived and everything bloomed. Fledgling flora and fauna pushed its way out of the dirt, reaching for the distant sun, while baby leaves peeked out of branches, nervously unfurling themselves to cover the densely populated forest with a veil of vibrant green. During the daylight hours, watery sunbeams broke through to the forest floor.
With springtime, there came the promise of new hope, the revival of greatness following a cold, bleak winter which broke the spirit and left in its trail a shivering, frozen city.
As they walked, the men would raise their heads to the sun and close their eyes as its rays warmed their faces. They listened to distant animal calls and falling branches, as heavy rains fell, saturating them to the bone.
“It’s just different out here, isn’t it?” Said Alaster.
“I know. It feels good,” William replied peacefully.
“I could really imagine myself living out here when I’m older, you know? It’s nice to get out of the city,” Al said contentedly.
“And the Academy.”
“Yeah, it’s a bit…” Alaster paused as he tried to think of a relevant word.
“Soul crushing?” Prompted William.
Alaster laughed slightly. “Heartless. Hollow. Downright depressing. Yeah, there’s definitely a chill about the place. I hope things get better soon.”
“Maybe. If my grandfather ever decides to regain his sanity.”
“Ha ha, perhaps. Who knows what will happen? I suppose we just carry on, don’t we?”
“Yes. We carry on,” William said resignedly.
Following the rebellion of the Shadow Army, William had anticipated orders from Walter to shut down their plan to rescue Wade and Joshua, however they were met by nothing more than an out of character silence from their leader and support for their decision from Captain Summers. While preparing for the mission one night, William had discussed his grandfather’s strange behaviour with Kasper.
“Maybe you should let your parents know?” Kasper had suggested.
“Dad should know all of this. It’s nothing to do with me. He is the future leader, after all. My time is a long way off,” William replied.
“Yeah, well…perhaps you should tell him how it is and set him straight? He could use that.”
“Maybe. I’ve tried before though. He never listens. I don’t know, Kas. Walter is acting differently. He’s just not himself. There’s something been going on for a while now, between Poisonwood and Silverwall, and he doesn’t know how to get out of it.”
“Have you tried speaking to your grandfather about it?”
“Trust me. Talking things out does not wo
rk in our family. He just dismisses me and tells me I have to stay in the city and ignores everything else.”
Kasper shook his head and leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. “That’s madness. But what we’re doing is good, right?”
William nodded confidently. “Definitely. I’m not interested in their politics. We have to look after our own and that’s going to be the main priority from now on. We can’t trust anyone else to do it."
Long days had followed as William and the Shadows hammered out a plan that would see the safe return of their men. Each night when he tried to sleep, he felt the unseen presence of his grandfather’s madness, the pressure of the Poisonwood Council, the ghost of Zachary and the prisoners who were innocently caught in the middle of it all. They beat at his exhausted head, and no matter how tightly William scrunched his eyes up and tried to make it all go away, it was there. It was always there, waiting for him to acknowledge it and take action.
All he felt was some kind of invisible pressure coming from all around. It was as if there was no air that could be breathed in to fill the lungs. Instead, all that seemed to exist was a heaviness he could almost touch.
‘I’m trying!” He thought wildly, his heart pounding as the psychosis caused by both a lack of and desperation for sleep descended from above.
On the day of the mission, William awoke with a start. He lay bewildered for a minute or so as he attempted to realign what he knew to be real and discard whatever untruths had occurred in his dreams. The long trek through the forest couldn’t have come soon enough, and William now walked with a clear head and an optimistic pride. To be faced with your own mortality brings something of a dreamy, contemplative perspective and the men took pains to think out every worry and concern as they marched on through the forest, hour after hour.
As they walked and slept, attempting to pass the time with mindless conversation, their nerves slowly turned into excited energy. It was a readiness to be in the midst of it all, to get it over with and take the boys back home where they belonged. All thoughts of death had been considered, accepted and sent on their way.
William felt like an elastic band that had been pulled taut and he couldn’t wait any longer to be let go of and allowed to fly through the air, fast and free. They launched their attack immediately after night fell on the fifth day. As he ran, it was as if William had ceased to exist and was now a part of something bigger than just one individual person. There was no fear, weariness or cowardice. The Shadows were courage, burning passion, endurance, fight and loyalty through and through. Some precognitive notion struck and they saw the future and the future empowered them, somehow making them even stronger and faster.
The walls to the prison lay ahead. On any other day they would be tall, thick and menacing, but on this day they flew over the barricade, scaling the smooth concrete with superhuman strength and agility. The Silverwall prison guards who had the misfortune of getting in the way were swiftly knocked to the ground. The Shadows fought with swords, arrows and fists. Everything seemed to slow down, while their senses were heightened - blood flying, the thudding, sudden impact of a punch to the face, bones breaking, shattered men lying on the ground, unseen shouts, cries and wails. The Shadows outnumbered the prison guards with ease, though the guards were bigger and had been trained to fight without honour. William retaliated to a punch with a stab to the shoulder. He turned and ran as the man fell bloodily, breaking free from the battling horde of men to search the prison units for Wade and Joshua.
Always the first to take initiative, Irvine and Alaster had already gone on ahead, disappearing into one of the prison units. Chasing after them, William entered the unit into which they had vanished, only to be accosted by four mammoth prison guards. How had the other two slipped by this lot?
Immediately the men ran for him, and Will, in his Shadow brain, rapidly considered his options. The door behind him had already slammed shut and there was no time to turn his back and run. He could attempt to dash down the corridor, but what if more guards were down there? He was already outnumbered and didn’t know which direction Al and Irv had gone in. The final option was to take all four of them on. Wasn’t that always the singular choice?
In that split second, the men had launched themselves at him. William was reminded of a time when he was a boy in school, smaller than the rest, and surrounded for some unknown reason by four of the bigger boys. Back then, he had tried (and failed) to fight back. He remembered grazed knees and a bust up lip, as he did his best not to cry in front of his father afterwards. But now, well, he had been in this situation more than once before and almost always came out on top. Almost. It was safe to say there had been a few cracked ribs and black eyes over the years.
William lashed out at the nearest man, but the others were on him immediately, throwing him down to the ground. One went for his head, attempting to smash it into the wooden floor, as the rest made kick after kick into his stomach, instantly knocking the wind out of him.
‘How am I going to get out of this one?’ William thought drily, still not entirely concerned by his predicament. He wasn’t one to wait around for a rescue and didn’t fancy being beaten black and blue right now.
William reached up abruptly and grabbed the man who rattled at his head, tossing him backwards to the ground behind him. The other men, momentarily stunned by the manoeuvre, paused to watch for one crucial second, as it dawned on them that this might not be as easy as they had initially thought. This was one of William’s favourite things about being a Shadow – that moment when his enemies realised just how much of a warrior he was. That second when the hesitant fear clicked into place.
He quickly stood, and for an instant everything paused. The men watched each other warily. William narrowed his eyes, as his expression grew knowing. Suddenly, the door beside him flew open and Captain Summers stormed in, towering over the men, as he towered over everyone. The Captain rarely fought these days, but he certainly thrived on the rare missions he did undertake. To this day, he remained undefeated.
With a single glance to Gabryel, William said to the men, “Do you really want to do this?” He had to at least give them the option to back out.
Stupidly the men did not take the chance, instead choosing to violently launch themselves once again. Captain Summers dodged their flying fists, his reflexes lightening quick as always. He retaliated with his own punches, his blows impacting on the jaws of the guards as if it were the easiest thing in the world. William reacted too, ducking down to avoid the blows. Shielding his torso from their clumsy jabs, he grabbed the arm of one man, while simultaneously kicking out at another, knocking him head first into the wall. He felt the pull and tear of the man’s arm, as he tightened his grip, and the man howled and dropped down onto his feet. William kept hold, only releasing to deliver a swift strike from behind.
“Will!” He heard a call coming from the end of the left hand corridor. It was time to finish things so that the Shadows would have a clear path upon their exit. The Captain’s opponents were already unconscious, but William settled for dazed and semi awake, leaving his pair in such a state to ensure that they wouldn’t be harming anyone until the Shadows were far away.
Alaster and Irvine returned with their men trailing behind them. It was time to get out. William had no doubt that the Silverwall Council would soon be informed, but their politics were of no concern to him. As per the mission plan, the recovery of their comrades would see the rapid exit of the Shadow Army. Fierce and powerful, the men made their way back over the wall and set off at a run through the forest.
The last to leave, William stopped over an official looking man, who lay on the ground, battered and bloody. “What you’ve seen today is one tenth of what we’ve got. You tell your leader that should he take any of our men again, you’ll see the full force of Poisonwood.”
He walked on to the join the waiting Captain Summers and the rest of the Army, and together they ran, finally whole again.
Chapter Eight
The journey back to the city was long, but spirits were high following their success. Once he was home, William slept for what seemed like days. His muscles ached and he was bruised all over, but it didn’t matter. He had a purpose again. Following the Shadow Army's long overdue accomplishment, Walter Poisonwood re-emerged at last, ready to take the credit. To celebrate the return of the missing Shadows and to boost morale amongst his men, Walter announced a ball at Poisonwood Manor. The whole of uptown was to be invited.
Servants strung the rooms with gold decorations and lights that shone like stars, in an attempt to bring some of the outside wonder in. They set up fountains stuck with delicately carved cherubs and angels, while table after table was laid with the most dazzling selection of china and silver cutlery. The entire house was cleaned, every piece of ornate finery polished to perfection, drapes pulled down, washed and re-hung, windows and floors scrubbed until they were shining and like new.
It was all that the Shadows could talk about. An air of rebellion hung in the atmosphere as excitement built up. William was looking forward to the anonymity of the event. The majority of the city thought that he worked for Walter on the Outside and over time had come to learn not to ask questions about his business.
While the other Shadows remained at the Academy headquarters to prepare for the evening, William was moved home to Poisonwood Manor and set up in his old bedroom for the night. Coming back felt strange, as it so seldom happened. Nothing had changed. Nothing ever changed and it felt like coming back to a version of himself that no longer existed. Back then he was younger and therefore more optimistic about life, ready to take on any challenge.
Looking over his appearance in the full-length mirror, William sighed and smoothed out his suit, before exiting the room to join his family. Though he loved his parents, the pressures of being a member of the Poisonwood family were strong. He sometimes wondered if this was why he had chosen to become a Shadow, knowing full well that his grandfather would have no choice but to treat him like the others.
The Shadow: The Poisonwood Shadows Book One Page 5