“I got ya,” Able slips one arm under my knees and the other under my back, lifting me into him. I try to keep watching, searching for Mantis but Able carries me away, cursing under his breath as we turn the corner, rushing through the emptiness.
Everyone has left, headed back inside for second meal or maybe, just dismissed from the strength of the mob. Either way, I can’t see very well, my right eye throbbing and refusing to open and my left pressed tight against Able’s chest. I barely make it out as he carries me through the open portcullis and into the Courtyard.
“Are Chief and Jace okay?”
“They’re fine, bestie,” Able glances down, wincing. He shakes his head, cursing again. “How you feeling?”
“My head’s exploding….”
“That doesn’t sound good,” he nervously chuckles. “You probably just need to lay down for a bit.”
“Taking me to my room?”
“Not a chance. Oh this is going to be bad… so very bad…”
I close my left eye, wanting to stay awake but quickly fall into a deep rest. Sinking into the comfort of Able’s arms, I drift away for a few minutes, maybe longer. Vaguely aware I’m set down on a soft material—a bed—a rustle of feet patter near the edge as sharpened whispers sound in the background.
Able’s trembling voice adds to the mix, aching with guilt, “… It happened quicker than we expected. So… so sorry…”
A low, deadly growl escapes and the room turns cold. Like a gust of wind breezing in through the window, everything stops to absorb the chill. I turn my head to the right, to the throbbing, swollen flesh that screams as it makes contact with the pillow. I force my good eye open and see Reid’s intense stare barreling into me with an overly numb look, like his rage is too much, like it’s condensed into itself, blocked behind a stone exterior so he doesn’t go crazy and loose it right here. His eyes shift over my face and down the front of my clothes.
“Rox…” Able starts but Reid doesn’t hear him.
Reid’s in his own world right now. He grabs something and turns for the door. It’s long and narrow, like a baseball bat and he clutches it to his side as he disappears through the arch. Able starts to go after him, calling something. I think I make out the words, four and right Transport.
“Oh Fallon…” Pratt’s soft voice calls as she sits down on the bed next to me.
“Hey,” Able closes the crimson arch as he starts to search. “Where’s that stuff he has?”
“What stuff?” Pratt asks, watching him look. “Oh, the Vilbrees? Over here,” she jumps from the bed, reaching under it to retrieve a small bowl. She sits down next to me, plopping the bowl on her lap and dips two fingers into the greenish-brown mud texture. “Let me see your eye.”
Turning my head to the side and exposing the aching flesh to Pratt, she winces like Able. Gently, she rubs the cool ointment on me, working in circles under my eye and around my cheekbone. “Was it Mantis?”
“And friends.”
Pratt dips her fingers into the bowl again, retrieving more of the substance. Returning to my cheek, she gently works down toward my mouth, to the busted lip, in soft, circular motions. “How many?”
“Four,” Able answers from somewhere in the shadows behind her. “Mantis was five. I can’t believe we…” and he loses his words.
“I shouldn’t have run back there. It was stupid, I knew it was,” I mumble, my mouth stinging as Pratt dips the moisture to my lip. “Couldn’t think quick enough. I should’ve screamed like Pratt—let you know where I was,” I gulp. “I couldn’t find my voice.”
“This is not your fault,” Able is over the bed, more anger in his tone than I’ve ever heard, “we walked right into their misdirect. They knew it’d be the only thing to loosen the guard around you so they could do it. And God!” he huffs, spinning around and jabbing his fingers into his head, “We walked right into it—we’re so stupid! Everyone ran for Pratt instead of you! Even your Safeties!”
“Safeties?” I ask as Pratt finishes doctoring.
Jumping up, she slides the bowl under the bed again and then grabs a Gupple off the food dispenser. Back on the bed, she slides in next to me as I sit up, leaning against the wall, my knees folded up at my chest.
“Your personal guards,” she explains, rubbing the Gupple on her scrub top. “Chief and Jace. They’re not supposed to leave you. Reid has them on assignment solely to protect you. They’re the two best fighters after him.”
“What?” I shift my open eye to Able. “Seriously?”
“Oh yeah,” Pratt answers. “He’s had them on you for awhile.”
“How long’s awhile?” I address my question to Able again.
“You want the truth?” he exhales, shifting between his feet.“… Pretty much since the beginning.”
“Not the beginning-beginning,” Pratt clarifies, shaking her head. “But since he’s been interested.”
“Okay…”
“Yeah,” Pratt goes on, “and before that, it was me.”
“You?” my head snaps to her. “What do you mean?”
“Well, since he saw you out there that first time, part of my assignment was just to keep an eye on you. Nothing much,” she takes a bite of the Gupple, catching the dripping juice down her chin with the back of her hand, “just let him know if I saw anything unusual. Since you ran out there the day you were brought here, he figured you might be worth watching. You know, in case you did something nut- so. But, just so you know,” she takes another bite, speaking with her mouth open. “He’s never asked me to watch anyone else before.”
“Where is he?” I turn to Able.
He stops pacing, glancing at me with painful eyes. “Have you seen yourself, Fallon? No,” he shakes his head, “of course not. Come here,” he extends his hand, standing in front of the small mirror on Reid’s wall. “If you can walk.”
“I’m fine,” I get up, accepting his hand support. “It’s just my head that hurts.”
Approaching the mirror, I inhale at the image staring back.
The left side of my face looks fine but the right side is a different story. My throbbing eye sits swelled shut, the sensitive skin around it plumping into a dark red. Soft spots of green and purple sprout over my cheek and a dried blood trail stains the skin from my right nostril down the side of my mouth. My bottom lip is split near the right corner, another bloodstain down my chin and onto my shirt.
“Wow…” I mutter to myself, trying to keep the shock from my voice, “…not pretty.”
“Yeah…” Able paces behind me, “and Reid saw. He’ll be down there for a while,” he chuckles nervously.
“What happened to Mantis? Did Chief get him?” I return to the bed. “Or Jace?”
“I’m not sure,” Able shakes his head. “I saw you on the ground and knew I had to get you out of there fast.”
“But two against five?”
“And now Reid,” Pratt adds, taking another bite. “I don’t know—did you see that look in his eye? He might make this quick.”
Able shakes his head again. “Unless he goes after Mantis, in which case, he’ll take his time. Oh man,” he starts up his pacing again. “Not good.”
“Will they be alright?” I glance between them.
“Who?” she answers with confusion. “The Kings?”
“No,” I frown. “Reid. Chief. Jace.”
“Oh…” she laughs. “More than alright. The Kings are probably wishing they hadn’t even tried by now. Especially Mantis. But he probably bolted,” Pratt takes another big bite.
“What was that thing Reid left with?” I glance to Able, “He had something in his hands…”
Able nods, “Yeah. That’d be a piece of the dried gibb the Carpenters made for him… kind of like a glass rod. It’s his go-to tool…”
“He’s not going to kill them.” I look between Able’s eyes, but when he doesn’t respond, I get nervous. “Able?”
“We’ll see,” he shrugs. “I’m not sure. He didn’t seem
particularly happy to see you like this. Uh… it might’ve rattled something loose upstairs.”
Suddenly the door swings open and Able springs to his feet, blocking the entry with his body. But it’s Tucker, and Able backs away, allowing him in. When Tucker sees me, he recoils, frowning as he throws his hand up in the air. “Aw Hell!”
“Is he all right?” I ask.
“Give it an hour,” Tucker comes closer, examining the side of my face. “Shit. He’s going to kill them.”
“Seriously?”
“If he doesn’t, he’ll come damn close.”
“Where’d you pass him?” Able asks.
“Halfway down. Should probably go help him but he told me to come up here and stay with Fallon and that he’d be back as soon as it was done.”
“Think he’s going after Mantis?”
“Was it just him?”
Able shakes his head. “Four others.”
“Jesus,” Tucker glances over me, rubbing his hands over his mouth. “Now I really feel like I should go with him.”
“Chief and Jace are already down there. Chief will keep him under control.”
“It’s not Chief I’m worried about,” Tucker exhales. “If Reid gets Mantis today, it’ll be an all-out war.”
“He won’t kill him…” Able sounds unsure. “Will he?”
Tucker tosses a glance at me. “Hard to say.”
Suddenly, the door flies open for the second time and Reid stalks in, instantly filling the room. His face and the front of his clothes are splattered in red and his knuckles bleed through broken skin. His dark eyes narrow into intense slits, his deadly focus set on me. Without breaking contact, he orders in low, menacing words. “Everyone out.”
Pratt jumps from the bed, Tucker and Able slipping past him and from the room. In seconds we’re alone in his bunker, Reid standing covered in blood and staring. Finally he moves, wiping his face clean with the back of his sleeve, resting the bloodied glass rod against the wall. He heads for the bed, dipping low and retrieving the same bowl that Pratt did. Setting it down next to him, he sits beside me. In silence, he plunges two fingers into the lotion-like substance and smoothes it into my face, starting with my eyelid.
Watching him work, I clear my throat. “Pratt already put some on me.”
He continues to rub the soothing ointment in, lightly under my eye and over my cheekbone. “A second coat’s better.”
He moves his fingers down my nose and then to my mouth. Dipping into the bowl for more medicine, he returns to my busted lip, wincing, his eyes narrowing further. “Does this hurt?”
“No.”
He nods, his focused eyes still narrowed in slits, careful as he works. Inching my chin up so he can fully examine me, he seems satisfied with his job and moves the bowl back to its original place. He jumps up, facing the mirror, wiping the blood off his face and neck with the back of his sleeve again. “You’re staying here tonight.”
“Is that allowed?”
“They’ll make an exception.”
“For one night?”
“For me,” he yanks off his shirt, tossing it into the corner. He looks at himself in the mirror, examining his neck and chest. Reaching for a small piece of fabric on his windowsill, he spits on it and starts wiping the blood from his face.
His knuckles are skinned raw so I jump up. Retrieving the same bowl from under the bed, I dip a finger in the green and brown substance. It’s creamy, like a lotion, and once I have a good amount, I turn for him. Reid’s wiping the cloth across his forehead when I reach his side. He’s startled to see me, frowning in confusion. I reach for his hand, intending to rub the medicine on.
“I’m fine,” he pulls back, crossing the room.
“Give it to me,” I follow, reaching for his hand again. “Just stop. Let me.”
“I said I’m fine,” he circles around, back for the mirror.
But just as he moves, I step in front of him, blocking his exit. Taking his fingers in mine, I rub the ointment over his bloodied knuckles, his hand jerking slightly. I run out of the substance quickly, holding his hand and pulling him back to the bed and bowl. Dipping my fingers in the cool material, I withdraw more, rubbing it into his remaining knuckles before moving to his other hand. He watches, allowing me to do this for him.
“Oh Reid…” I frown, “what did you do?”
He shrugs.
I work quickly and tenderly, taking advantage of the time he’s giving me. Once I’ve done both hands, I search his wrists, forearms, shoulders and chest for any more injuries, all under his attentive eye. None of the blood on his face or neck is his, so I put the bowl away, back under the bed. When I turn, he’s still facing me, still watching.
“Better?” I ask.
But Reid only exhales.
“So…” I sit on the bed, folding my legs in front of me. “You going to tell me what happened?”
The alarm screams overhead, reverberating through the walls to dismiss us back outside. My hands fly to my ears but my right cheek screams from the sudden pressure and I drop them quickly.
“You should lie down.”
I glance to the window. “What about Rebuilding?”
Reid shakes his head. “They won’t know you’re not there.”
“What?”
“They only keep tabs on who they want. Or whoever leaves the gate. If you’re not down there, they won’t know the difference.”
“But…” I look to the window.
“Fallon,” he approaches, “I can’t… I can’t have you leaving this room. Not right now. So please,” he motions to the bed, “just lie down.”
Reluctantly I oblige, and mostly because of the pleading in his eyes. Reid climbs in the bed behind me and we lay like this for a bit. With his arm wrapped securely around me, the comfort of safety overwhelms me and I finally slip away.
His lips brush my right eye, sweeping the bruised, swollen skin. Gentle in every way, he moves over the painful flesh and lower, toward my open mouth. But he kisses around my lips, aiming for the split, keeping dedicated attention to the wound. I run my tongue over my bottom lip and taste him. He groans, but still works around the split. I do it again. This time, he’s ready and slips his own tongue to meet mine. He groans louder at their meeting, pulling himself closer.
Climbing on top, he shoves a hard lump into my stomach but then rolls off just as quickly, crossing his arms behind his head. It takes me a second to realize he’s not coming back. I prop myself up, staring down at him.
“You stopped.”
“I’m going to want to keep going,” he casts a look my way. When I don’t immediately respond, he returns to staring at the ceiling.
“Don’t you just kiss?”
“Not if I like it,” he rolls his head to me. “Besides, you need to heal.”
A knock sounds on the door and I lean back, Reid going for the crimson arch. He pulls it ajar and Tucker, Able and Jace stand in the doorway, all gushing over one another until spotting me over his left shoulder. They refocus on Reid, trying to remember what they were saying. The three exchange a few quick words before Reid steps back.
“They’re going to need to see you soon,” Tucker pushes, trying not to toss a look my way. He falters, casting me a glance, Jace following.
“Leisure Time,” Reid nods. “Not before then.”
Withdrawing, he closes the door behind him as he heads to the mirror, reexamining his face. He retrieves the cloth from the windowsill, spits on it, and brings it to his brow. “How do you feel?”
“Better,” I sit up, stroking the soft patch around my right eye. “What was that stuff?”
“Villbrees,” he rubs the cloth down his temple, “it’s got Tregmint in it. Sampson made it. Don’t touch your face.” He spins around, wiping the piece down his cheek once more before tossing it back on the window sill. Crossing his arms, he stops in front of the bed, legs slightly apart and standing firm. “I’ll put some more on after Leisure Time.”
�
�How do your knuckles feel?” My sight drops to the raw, pink skin I doctored earlier.
“Don’t hurt enough.”
I take his hands in mine. He hesitates letting me hold them and jerks back until I insist. Finally, I bring them low to investigate. I look up, frowning. “I don’t want you to hurt.”
“Funny. Feel the same about you,” he withdraws, pacing up and down his room, gnawing at his thumb.
A long minute goes by and I can’t take it anymore. “Are you going to tell me what you did?”
He pauses and removes his thumb from his teeth. His body goes rigid again, “Do you really want to know?”
I don’t want to know, I need to know—it’s non-negotiable at this point. I meet his eye and offer the slightest of nods. Reid accepts the tiny gesture with a low sigh, keeping to his rigid state and folding his arms with a cocky confidence. “I beat the shit out of them.”
“Did you…”
“No,” he shakes his head, already answering my panicked face. He starts pacing. “Believe me, I wanted to. At one point, I thought I might. But no. Last I saw they were alive.”
“Did you get hurt at all?” I search his body again for possible injuries as he comes in and out of the babeebs’ golden light.
“Are you kidding me?” he laughs. “It wasn’t even fair. Normally there’s no point in beating a man while he’s down, but in this case…” he scans my swollen eye and busted lip, “…I made an exception.”
“But the Kings will know. They’ll retaliate on the Rogues when they see what you’ve done,” I think of Able and the others, Rogues that have no reason to get hurt for me. Starting to make further protest, Reid is already shaking his head, dismissing my argument.
“They’re not going back to the Kings,” a sharp inhale and then, “I’m holding them.”
“What?” I bolt to my feet. “Where?”
“Tunnels.”
I search his face for any contradiction, any slip of the joke. But they’re serious. He has them hidden, somewhere below, in the underground labyrinth.
Escape from Harrizel Page 29