by Raven Dark
I and the others nodded.
“There’s nothing to go back to,” Utar said. He glanced at one of his men. “Striker, how many people did we have with us when they took us here?”
“Ten others,” Striker said. “Eight men, two women.”
Utar nodded. “By the way, this is my Seargent At Arms, Striker.”
Striker shook hands with everyone. “When they ambushed us, they left our town a wasteland.” He scratched a beard almost as long as Utar’s but streaked with grey. “Burned it to the ground. They killed everyone they didn’t bring here.”
“Which zone?” I asked.
“Our home wasn’t in a protected zone,” Utar said. “We lived in Minute Town. A little speck of a place, but we were proud of it.”
“You didn’t have any protection?” Hawk asked.
He shook his head, regret turning his mouth down. “The Lone Rebels have never lived anywhere where some arrogant zone captain dictates our lives.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” Sheriff said.
“It’s three days west of here.”
“Well, you aren’t unprotected anymore. Do you know where you’re going to go?”
Utar glanced to his other side, where a woman with a cloud of red hair and a burned left cheek seated herself beside him. “Well? What do you think, Marna?”
She cleared her throat and coughed. “We could head south. There’s a town there that would take us in. But it’s a day or more out. We won’t be able to travel for a while.”
Sheriff looked at her, his surprise echoing mine. I glanced across from me at Setora, still on her knees at T-Man’s feet. She was staring at Marna, a small smile of wonder on her lips, and no wonder. It wasn’t just that Utar had asked her opinion on where they’d be headed. It was that she hadn’t called him Master. What was more, she took his hand as if it was hers to take, and he squeezed it.
“South it is, then,” he said. “As soon as we’re fit for travel.”
“Good we—"
“General.” Hawk interrupted Sheriff and the general glanced at him.
“I suggest we stay with them until they’re able to travel. We can take them to another part of the forest for now, hide them there while everyone recovers. I don’t think Saketh will come back anytime soon, but with the condition they’re in, we can’t take any chances.”
Sheriff inclined his head in agreement. “We’ll stay with you as long as we can before we head out on our own.”
“That’s not necessary. We don’t want to delay you on your own journey,” Utar said.
“It’s done,” Sheriff stood up. Utar grinned and followed suit, shaking his hand.
“You’re as stubborn as I am, I see.”
“To lead this rabble?” he smiled around at us. “I have to be.” He gestured around at the camp. “If you and your men could give us twenty minutes and start putting out these fires, I’ll have our doctor brought to you, and we’ll help you gather what supplies we can salvage.”
Utar gathered his people, and they split up, starting to put out the fires that still ate up the camp, leaving a single bonfire burning for light.
As soon as the Lone Rebels were out of earshot, all eyes turned on Setora. My heart did a strange flip-flop as I took her in, still reeling at the miracle that we all made it through this fight. The odds were against us from the get-go, and we knew that.
Setora would need to know that, too.
Sheriff stalked over to her, walking slowly around her and T-Man. Then he squatted in front of her.
She tensed. He captured her chin with his fingers and tipped it up, his face so close his nose almost touched hers.
Setora met his gaze, but I could see how hard it was for her, like lifting some gargantuan load onto her back. “Master, I am so, so sorry. I—”
Sheriff put up his hand. The single gesture silenced her as if it had stolen her voice. “No. It’s my turn now.”
Her chest shook on a sigh, and she lowered her eyes.
When Sheriff spoke again, his words were slow and deliberate, his voice low but clear. “How many times did I tell you, Setora? How many times did I tell you not to play hero?”
For some reason, Setora turned her eyes to me.
I crossed my arms. “Don’t look at me. You did this to yourself, Princess.”
Again her eyes lowered.
“I’m waiting, Setora,” Sheriff said.
Call me twisted, but I’d always loved watching Sheriff work like this, disciplining our woman. Well, except that one time when we’d returned from saving her from Talek.
“Do you realize what you’ve done?” he went on in the same tone.
“Yes, Master.” Her voice was very small.
“Do you?” He tightened his grip on her chin. “You put my men in danger. You put yourself in danger. Emmy. You put the Grotto in danger. The whole Legion.”
Her eyes snapped to his, her face losing all color. I could see the weight of her actions hit her with new intensity.
“If the Grotto loses us—me, Hawk, Steel, Pretty Boy—the Grotto has no leader. Cherry, all your friends, would be left to pick up the pieces.”
Setora’s beautiful lips pressed together, and her eyes welled. Her lips trembled. “I didn’t…I….” She sniffed and nodded.
He gave a satisfied nod. Hope flashed in her eyes.
“Therefore,” the General added, “since you have forgotten your place, we will remind you of that.”
She nodded, silent.
“From now on, you will be leashed and tied to one of us, just like you are now, twenty-four hours a day for a probationary period until we get to Delta.”
The hope dropped from her face like shucked cloth.
“We’ll discuss your punishment further when we get to the new camp, but we have other things to deal with right now.”
“Master, isn’t leashing me—”
He shook his head, cutting her off. “I know what you’re about to say. Being tied to us isn’t your punishment. Tying you to us will remind you that you are a slave, since you keep forgetting that fact.”
When she shook out another sigh and nodded, he straightened. “Good. T-Man, Hawk, go get Doc. Give me the leash.” He gestured to T-Man, and the Legion’s executioner handed him the leash with a smirk before he and Hawk left.
Sheriff turned to Emmy, sitting small and white-faced on the log beside Steel, a burlap sack wrapped around her shoulders. “Emmy, hold Setora’s leash for a second. Oh, and by the way. It’s good to have you back.”
Emmy’s dark eyes widened, and she and Setora exchanged a humiliated look before she took the end of the leash with a wince. “Uh…thank you, General.”
I had to turn my head before I snorted and lost it. Especially when Emmy put the leash on her lap like she didn’t know what to do with it.
Sheriff walked over to me and ran his palm down his face again. Man, he looked stressed. “All right, let’s discuss a few things.”
I nodded and stretched, knuckling my back.
“When Doc gets here, hand Setora over to him. We’ll keep the women with Doc and Crash for now. I’ll need your and Hawk’s help. We have a lot to take care of before we can leave.”
I let out a long sigh. “Thank fuck we’re all alright and we can finally get the fuck out of here.” I looked at Setora and couldn’t hold off a smile. “Man, you’re an old dog, Sheriff. But a brilliant one.” I clapped him on the shoulder, and his eyes twinkled.
“Let’s get to work, Brother.”
In the twenty minutes or so before Hawk and T-Man returned with Doc, Crash, and Diamond, we started helping the former captives prepare to leave. The Dregs had parked two large paneled transports in the forest near the camp, hiding them inside two of the trees. One had a few of the cages the Dregs had kept their hostages in, and the other carried two full kegs of moonshine, along with other supplies. I’d been wondering how they’d carried the men and women here. Those transports, large and bulky with good-sized solar panels on all sides,
would make it easier to travel with so many people since the Dregs had reduced most of their bikes to scrap. A lot of the Dregs’ rides had been destroyed in tonight’s fire.
Emmy, Diamond, and the Lone Rebels’ women packed up what they could salvage of the food, and Sheriff and I gathered the weapons. They’d need them on their way south.
When Hawk and T-Man brought Doc into the camp, Doc looked everyone over. We helped him sort the wounded according to severity, who needed more urgent care and who didn’t.
“All right, Utar,” Doc said. “You and some of the others help me set up those transports as a triage. At least three of your men will need to be laid up in them on the way to the new camp.”
Utar chose two of the strongest men, and I joined them, helping them empty out the backs of the transports and then setting up makeshift beds inside them with the Dreg’s sleeping bags. Steel and Sheriff carefully moved the men into the backs of the vehicles, two men in one, one in the other. Doc stayed with them.
For another half hour, while Doc patched everyone up, the camp buzzed with activity. Men found all the bikes that were salvageable, storing them in the backs of the transports. Their women passed out food and drink.
Hawk and I started dumping out the kegs of moonshine that were set up around the camp.
“These people will need something to drink on their journey,” Hawk said, helping me tip one of the kegs over. Moonshine spilled out onto the ground like liquid gold.
“No one’s drinking Dreg slop. They could have spit or pissed in it, for all we know,” I growled.
“I know.” Hawk grabbed the end of a keg, and I took the other end. He looked at me over the top of the barrel. “Still want to kill me, do you?”
“Yeah. But later.” I helped him dump the keg, and more moonshine turned the ground amber. “After we send these people on their way. Setora forgave you, because that’s who she is. You’ll have to do better than a few promises and a good fuck to fix us, Brother.”
“I can see that.”
I shook my head, trying to tamp down my anger. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“You know what. That whole righteous, nothing-gets-to-me Yantu crap.”
“You’re allowed to be angry with me, Pretty Boy. I hurt her back at the Grotto.”
“What about last night?”
Hawk said nothing and tipped the last keg over.
“You’re an asshole, you know.”
“I know.”
I tsked and was about to leave, but he stopped me. “Pretty Boy.”
“What.”
“Last night. I didn’t hurt her—”
I put up my hand. “If you say so.”
He dropped his shoulders.
“Are we done?”
He sighed. “I guess we are.”
Except we weren’t. I didn’t know what he’d done last night to scare the fuck out of our woman, but I wouldn’t let him off that easy just because she had. The conversation between me and my Brother wasn’t something I was looking forward to, but I wanted—no, needed—him to know that I wasn’t going to put up with his shit anymore.
“If you two are done bickering like old ladies, we need your help over here,” Sheriff called from the transports. “We need to strip these Dregs so that Utar and his people have proper clothing.”
Once all the Dreg corpses were stripped, and the Lone Rebels were properly clothed, T-Man and I brought our bikes down from where we’d left them. Only a handful of the Rebels would be riding, most going in the transports.
When we returned, I found Sheriff talking to Doc in one of the vehicles. Steel sat on one of the two beds we’d set up in there, with Setora by his side. She still had the leash around her wrists, the other end of it tied to Steel’s forearm. Doc bent over him, looking into his eyes with a biolight, Sheriff next to him.
“How is he, Doc?” Sheriff asked.
“I told you, I’m fine,” Steel grumbled. “A little ale and some food, and I’ll be right as rain.” He looked at Setora. “And knowing that this piece of work over here is safe makes all the difference.”
Setora’s cheeks turned pink.
“Is that so?” Doc held up three fingers. “How many?”
“Forget it. I can see well enough to see the blackheads on your nose, Doc.”
Doc snorted.
“Don’t bother asking him that, anyway,” I teased. “We all know Steel can’t count that high.”
“Kiss my well-muscled ass, Brother.” Steel chuckled.
“I’ll pass, thanks.”
I wouldn’t admit it under threat of Dreg torture, but the world seemed a lot less dark seeing that smile. Man, what the fuck would I do without him?
“Well, you’re banged up all to hell, and I don’t like the way you’re dragging your one foot, Steel. But if you’re not feeling any dizziness like you said, and your head isn’t pounding like a drum, then you should be fine for now. I want another look at you when we set up at the next camp, though, you got it?”
“If it’ll shut you up, yeah.”
“Master, please let him do his job.”
Doc clapped Steel on the shoulder. He untied the leash from Steel’s arm, let him go, and handed the leash to Crash, who limped up from his seat in the back of the transport. “Your turn.”
Crash gave a grumbling Setora a shrug and tied the leash around his ankle.
“All right, everyone but Crash, out. I got work to do in here,” Doc ordered.
“Come here, Princess, give me a kiss before I go. We’re leaving soon.” I grabbed her by the nape and pulled her close, claiming her mouth. Fuck, I wanted to take her over my shoulder and pound into her behind some tree. Instead, I just grabbed her ass. She held me close and melted into me, the sweetest surrender.
I’d almost lost her today. Fuck me.
I lifted my head and traced her lips with my thumb. Damn, that mouth. “You’ll ride in here with Doc and Crash and the rest of the Rebels. Be a good girl, now.”
“Yes, Master.”
I held in a smirk at the situation. There was only so much my Princess could take right now, and she didn’t need my humor stripping away the severity of what she’d done. She needed discipline. And I would need to be patient.
Fuck, this trip sucked.
Sheriff and I clambered out of the vehicle and helped Utar and his people into the transports. Even with the beds set up in them, there was plenty of room for all the Rebels and the supplies, especially with how many people they’d already lost.
“All right, here’s how it’s gonna be,” Sheriff said. “We need two drivers for these transports. I want one man each paired up with the drivers. I don’t see us running into trouble again, but just in case.”
“Agreed,” Utar said, and he chose two of his men to drive, two more to partner with them.
“Emmy, you ride with T-Man. Diamond, you’ll be with Doc. We flank the transports on all sides.”
The Four started putting on masks and helmets while the last few of Utar’s people climbed into the transports, their drivers in the front seats. The camp clamored with the final commotion of departure. Marna climbed into the van last, sitting beside Utar, pecking him on the cheek. I gave Setora a last smile before I clacked my helmet’s night-time visor down.
Steel mounted his bike and gunned his engine. “PB,” he yelled over the roar. “You’re riding with me, right?”
“Of course.” Why did he ask that? I always rode beside him.
Sheriff said something about the time, and I turned to him.
Steel’s engine grumbled and sputtered, and I heard his wheels grinding. I looked over at him.
Steel’s dark eyes closed, and without so much as a twitch in his expression, he toppled to the ground, bike and all.
“Steel!” Setora screamed behind me from the open transport.
The pit of my stomach clenched like I’d been sucker punched. I raced over to him. I knelt and shook him, but he didn’t move.
I shook Steel again. “Steel. No, no, Steel. Come on, wake up, Brother,” I shouted.
But Steel didn’t open his eyes.
The End of Book 3 of
SAVING SETORA
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