by Gavin Zanker
‘Good evening, Samuel,’ Emily said. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Emily, I believe Travis is looking for you.’
‘Is he? Well I was just leaving anyway. It’s getting late.’ She rose from her seat and smiled at Kane. ‘Until later then.’
The two men watched her leave as the clicking of her heels echoed through silent the chapel. Once she had gone, Samuel turned his attention to the seated man.
‘Kane, you know this won’t end well.’
‘What’s that then?’ Kane asked the irritating accountant.
‘No need to play games with me. I see everything that happens inside this organisation, and I would have to be blind to not see your feelings for her. You broadcast them like an angst-ridden teenager. So I’ll say it again, for her benefit more than yours. This won’t end well.’
‘Are you threatening one of the heads of this Church?’ Kane demanded, rising from his seat with balled fists at his side.
Samuel smirked, and nudged his glassed up his nose. ‘If only you knew how ridiculous that sounds. My loyalty is to this organisation, and unlike you, I actually belong to it. I work to expand our influence every day.’
‘Is there a point to this, or do you just like to blow your own horn?’
‘My point, mercenary, is I would never do anything to hurt this organisation. And I hope that you wouldn’t either.’
Kane stared at Samuel, the aide’s face a picture of smug calmness. No answer came to him, and he slumped back into the chair with hunched shoulders.
‘Of course not. I work every day to protect the people here. I have friends that mean everything to me.’
‘Good, let’s hope you keep them then,’ Samuel said. ‘The Seekers won’t be needed forever, and then what will you do?’
Kane looked up sharply as the man turned on his heel and strode away. ‘What about the raid tonight?’ he called after Samuel. ‘What’s going to be done?’
‘It will be handled,’ Samuel said, without breaking stride. ‘Just do your job and keep your Seekers in line until then.’
With that Samuel exited the chapel, pushing the heavy doors closed and leaving Kane alone once more.
CHAPTER 26
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Aiden thanked Louise as he left sickbay and headed for the common room. She had taken a shine to Hitch who had stayed with him while she patched him up and kept him in overnight for observation. Apart from the broken nose and some bruising, there was no real damage done.
He entered the common room to find the entire team assembled. People cheered and whistled as they noticed him.
‘There he is,’ Kane said, stepping up to Aiden and slapping his arm. ‘You okay, son?’
‘Fine, just a few bruises.’
‘Good, I knew you were made of tough stuff. I was just telling the team that I’m not going to let this happen again.’
‘You say that, but they got in here once,’ someone said. ‘What’s to stop them walking in again?’
‘I’ve already spoken to Emily,’ Kane said, raising his voice so the whole room could hear. ‘We talked it out last night, and arrangements have already been made. Everyone has been briefed on procedure and you can believe me when I tell you they won’t be able to pull the same trick twice. You can all sleep soundly because no one is going to let them in again, no matter what drivel they spout at the gate.’
‘I say we go pay them a visit,’ a voice shouted from the back of the room.
‘Yeah,’ someone else joined in. ‘Let’s go visit them at their home, and let them know that we can get to them.’
Kane raised his hands for quiet before people started arguing again. ‘I’ll hear nothing about retaliation. I know you’re angry, I know you want to get back at them, but the situation is political. We can’t start an open war with the city police. Rest assured though, the trespass will not be forgotten. Action will be taken, but only when the time is right.’ Kane looked around the room, pausing to emphasise his point. ‘Now, in the meantime I have some good news. I’ve arranged for tickets for all of you to head up to the Grand Arena to blow off some steam and watch the fights tonight.’
The atmosphere in the room quickly turned to excitement. Aiden watched with a puzzled expression as people chattered eagerly. Aside from already having his fill of the place, he had never understood the interest in spectating blood sports. The prospect of watching men die in varied and brutal ways was abhorrent to him.
‘Don’t worry,’ Kane continued. ‘Our time will come. Meanwhile, you ugly lot get to some downtime. Enjoy yourselves and go blow some of your wages at the fights.’
Kane turned, about to head out when he caught sight of Aiden again and approached him. ‘Something tells me you won’t be going with this lot.’
Aiden shook his head. ‘No, I’ll find something else to fill my time. I’ve seen enough blood stain that sand.’
‘I can appreciate that. There are plenty of corners in this world I couldn’t stomach laying eyes on again for exactly the same reason.’ Kane’s gaze passed through Aiden to some faraway place for a second before he refocused. ‘You drink, Aiden?’
‘Every now and then.’
‘Good, a man needs a hobby. Here.’ Kane reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins which he dropped in Aiden’s hand with a clink. ‘Have a few drinks somewhere quiet and unwind. On me.’
Aiden nodded his thanks, figuring the idea was not a bad one. Kane slapped him on the arm again, then left Aiden alone in the noise of the excited common room.
LATER THAT DAY, Aiden left Hitch in the barracks and decided to go for a run to try and work out the stiffness in his joints. The day was warm as the sun shone down on to the city, and he quickly worked up a sweat jogging around the compound perimeter. Slowing down to catch his breath, he found himself outside the gym and decided to have a look inside.
He found a large room, empty save for Jordy who was bench pressing weights in the corner. The room smelt of stale sweat and corroded iron. Weights and exercise machines were scattered around a roped boxing ring in the centre.
‘Well look who it is,’ Jordy said. ‘Mister Hero.’
Aiden decided not to engage, and moved to the other side of the room. Pulling down one of the lighter dumbbells from the rack, he started small, his muscles still sore from the hits he had taken in the barracks the previous night.
‘Hah, well aren’t you a pussy,’ Jordy said with a snort, eyeing the small weight.
Aiden ignored the comment. He turned away and started some bicep curls, gradually working his muscles. A few moments passed and just as he was starting to focus on the exercise, Jordy spoke up again.
‘You know things were better before you got here. Riling up the police. Strutting around here, thinking you’re so damn perfect.’
‘You have a problem, Jordy?’
‘Yeah I do have a problem. And it’s you.’
Aiden continued with his exercise for a second, biting his lip. Responding was a mistake, but he could not stop himself. He shook his head and dropped the dumbbell causing a loud thud as it hit the floor mat, then turned and stepped towards Jordy.
‘I’m real tired of people treating me like a whipping boy. It seems just about everyone wants to take a swing at me lately.’
‘Who can blame them when you walk around with that better-than-you attitude?’
‘How about we settle this then?’ Aiden said, his voice betraying his rising temper. ‘Let’s, you and me, hop in the ring right now and go a few rounds.’
Jordy accepted the challenge without a word, climbing into the wooden ring and taking a corner. Pain flared through Aiden’s bruised ribs as he bent under the ropes, but he ignored it. The two men approached each other and squared up in the centre.
‘Rules?’ Aiden said, stretching out his shoulders.
In response, Jordy lashed out, connecting with the side of Aiden’s head and causing him to stagger back into the ropes before righting himself.
&nbs
p; ‘Classy,’ he said, cupping his jaw. ‘Real classy.’
Aiden put up his fists to guard his face and advanced towards Jordy. They circled each other warily, jabbing here and there, neither wanting to over commit and find themselves vulnerable. Jordy was a veteran of the Seekers, and judging by the scars on his torso, had seen a lot of combat. He had more muscle on his upper body, but Aiden figured he had speed on his side.
Jordy swung a right hook towards Aiden, who ducked under the blow, coming back with an uppercut which caught the larger man under the chin. Jordy stumbled back, shaking his head to clear the daze.
The fight wore on, neither man gaining the upper hand. Both landed hits on one another, and soon they were both sweating and breathing heavily.
‘She’s mine you know,’ Jordy said, stepping back to catch his breath.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Faye.’ Jordy wiped the sweat across his brow with the back of his hand. ‘She was mine before you came along. You think you can just turn up and steal her?’
Jordy leapt forward, his right arm swinging around in a powerful arc. Aiden ducked to the side as it sailed over his shoulder.
‘That’s what this is about? Faye?’
‘What do you think?’
Aiden stepped back and dropped his arms. ‘Look, if she was interested in you, she would be with you. It’s nothing to do with me. Get over it.’
Jordy’s face twisted in to a snarl and he launched a flurry of blows at Aiden. He blocked most of them but one caught him on the chin and sent him sprawling to the floor. White lights danced over his vision, blinding him. He came up on one knee, blinking rapidly as he looked over at his opponent. Jordy’s face was blurred, obscured by a strange fog.
‘She was just a whore, you know.’
‘What?’ Aiden shook his head as he pulled himself to his feet, trying to focus on the shifting features of his opponent’s face. A pulsing scar formed, from the man’s eyebrow down to his chin.
‘I get through two or three like her a week. She was just some bitch. You shouldn’t take it so hard. Even though she did.’ The scarred man threw back his head in laughter.
Aiden realised he was looking at Trent Reid. The man who had killed his wife. He squeezed his fists tight, his nails digging deep into his palms.
‘She took it well, you know,’ Trent continued, slowly pacing back and forth across the ring, his features still morphing. ‘Like a knife that was slowly killing her.’
Aiden twitched, his eye muscles spasming. Anger swelled up inside him, turning in to a consuming rage. He felt himself leap forward, tackling the man and knocking him to the floor. Then Aiden was looking down, punching the man’s scarred face. This man that had raped his wife. Murdered his wife. Feeling nothing, Aiden relentlessly rained down punch after punch. He felt his knuckles become slick as blood splattered and flesh tore.
Aiden felt arms grasp his waist, pulling him off the downed man. He fell on to his back, his breath coming in gasps as his lungs breathed fire. He closed his eyes and felt control slowly return as his emotions subsided.
‘Gods,’ a woman’s shocked voice came from above. ‘What did you do, Aiden?’
‘Kate, is that you?’
‘Who the hell is Kate?’
Raising himself up on to his elbows, Aiden looked over to see Faye kneeling over Jordy. She was helping him up to a sitting position as he coughed and heaved. His face was almost unrecognisable under the blood, but there was no longer any scar. It was clearly Jordy.
‘Come on, Jordy, up you get. Let’s get you to sickbay,’ Faye said, throwing his arm over her shoulder and hoisting the injured man to his feet. She glanced at Aiden as she helped Jordy out. ‘I reckon you can explain this one to me later.’
Aiden cursed and slumped back down. The wooden floor of the ring was cool against his sweat streaked back. He groaned as the pain of the fight caught up with his bruised, aching body.
CHAPTER 27
WITH THE REINS in hand, Emily walked the brown gelding through the crowded market. The journey to Kiln Commons had been uneventful, but she was still grateful for the extra security Kane had insisted upon. She never enjoyed leaving the Rim or being away from Travis, but certain obligations to the church had to be met.
She directed her followers to unpack the trailer and see to the horse. A stall was soon erected on an empty spot near the edge of the market. A table was put together, and Emily laid out a neat arrangement of leaflets advertising the Dawnist church.
‘I wonder what they did,’ she overheard someone in her group say.
‘Poor bastards,’ another replied.
She turned to see two of her men staring across the market. Following their gaze, she saw a statue of a headless horse rider rising up out of the centre of the busy market. Two dead men hung from it, swaying in the cold breeze.
Emily shuddered, forcing herself to look away before the image stuck in her mind. She returned her attention to setting up the stall. Finally satisfied everything was in order, she put up the sign offering charitable supplies and waited with a smile. It was only minutes before a small crowd had gathered at the prospect of a free meal, and soon Emily and her followers were handing out the small plastic-wrapped parcels of food to people.
She smiled broadly as she spoke to the people, encouraging them to consider joining the Church. News of the give-away soon spread and the crowd quickly grew. She noted with anguish that the people here looked even more malnourished than the residents of the Rim. Emily was glad she had suggested the charity drive, knowing that helping people and creating goodwill for the Church was beneficial in the long run, even if Samuel had complained about the financial costs.
‘Please don’t push, we have plenty left,’ Emily said, as the people jostled each other. ‘Here, miss, please take a leaflet. It will tell you all you need to know about the Church.’ Emily spoke louder now, addressing the entire crowd. ‘The Church of Dawnism cares for its members, and if you embrace the teachings, your souls will be saved. You will pass from this world where you will live forever in the kingdom of eternal light. Please, everyone help yourself to a care package courtesy of the Church. We heard of your troubles here and wish only to bring you a candle in the darkness.’
Emily and her group were swarmed and they struggled to keep up with the hoard of outstretched hands. Before long the supplies were almost entirely gone.
The crowd around the stall parted and a group of five rough men strode forward through the gap. They stood, looking over the stall with stony expressions. Emily recognised the crossed revolver tattoos on their necks. She had anticipated an appearance from the Kiln Boys.
‘Kiln Boys. Our brothers in the north,’ she said warmly. ‘Please accept these gifts from the Dawnists.’
She reached into the trailer and picked up a package in each hand, extending them towards the men. One wearing a wide-brimmed hat stepped towards Emily and looked down at the packages. Without a word he slapped them from her hands and they tumbled to the street with a dull thud. The crowd fell silent.
‘We won’t be bought by your gifts, cultist.’ The man spat on the ground. ‘This is Kiln Boy territory and you ain’t welcome here.’
‘We are here to help the unfortunate,’ Emily said, her heart racing. ‘We seek no conflict.’ Having not expected such open hostility from the group, she realised with growing panic that there was little she could do if they decided to attack.
Two hooded men wearing faded blue robes stepped forward from the crowd. ‘These people are causing nobody harm,’ one said, ‘they are merely spreading aid for those in need. We thank them for their efforts.’
The two men bowed at Emily who remained silent, unsure how to react to these unfamiliar men. One of the Kiln Boys stepped towards the blue-robed men and shoved them back into the crowd.
‘Get lost, cowards,’ he said, as they stumbled backwards. ‘No one is interested in what a couple of yellow-bellies have to say.’
The Kiln Bo
ys laughed, then turned and stepped towards the stall. One grasped the table with a grin and flipped it, scattering the leaflets to the floor. The people watching chattered loudly at the commotion, many leaving in a hurry. A child darted out of the crowd and scooped up the fallen food packages before slipping back out of view.
Emily tried to remain calm as her adrenaline surged, knowing that she had to defuse the dangerous situation. ‘Please, there is no need for this,’ she said, trying to be heard over the noise of the crowd.
‘What’s this then?’ a voice called out.
Silence fell immediately and people scurried out of the way as a tall man with a scarred face strode forward. He paused to survey the scene, idly polishing an apple on the lapel of his long jacket. He approached the overturned stall and looked Emily up and down.
‘You know who I am?’ he asked.
Travis had pointed him out to her one time in the city, and she had not forgotten the scarred face. ‘Mr Reid,’ Emily said, forcing a smile. ‘There seems to be a misunderstanding with some of your men here.’
‘Oh?’ Trent said. He took a large bite from the apple, the juice running down his chin.
‘We aren’t looking for a conflict in your territory,’ Emily continued. ‘We are merely here to spread the word of our church and offer charity to the less fortunate.’
‘I see.’ Trent chewed for a moment, appearing thoughtful. The silence dragged on, and Emily could not stop her gaze flicking from the large revolver at the man’s hip to the bodies hanging from the headless statue.
‘Well, how about this?’ Trent said, smiling broadly as he tossed the half-eaten apple over his shoulder. ‘You take your righteous message and you ride out of town on it. I don’t like your kind, Dawnist. And I especially don’t like you spreading your dirty little ideas around here. Understood?’