Finally reaching the threshold of low mumblings, the Rogues hurry by with quicker strides, eager to make their deposit. Once they do they jet back, just outside the line of deformity. Sampson slows, lighting our way past Hinson and into the field of trees, bodies growing from their trunks like parasites. They’re talking to themselves or snapping at anyone who comes too close. Between the trees and across the ground of skin, lies a blanket of captured Kings, all bound and gagged.
“Yep,” Able nods, watching me survey the scene, “that’s all of them. Except Mantis and Grisham, who should be arriving here shortly.”
The Kings, all forty-four of them, lay sprawled throughout the trees, some up against the trunks where knees and calves slap them with involuntary spasms. But the Clansmen are out cold, unconscious.
“They’re just here all day?” I ask motioning to the Kings.
“And night.”
“Somebody watching them? Feeding them?”
“Making sure they’re still alive?” he shrugs, laughing. “…Something like that.”
A loud dragging brushes through the trees and we all turn to look. Reid emerges through the mist first, followed by Tucker and Chief, both hauling two bound bodies on the ground behind them.
Mantis, I recognize instantly, with that red flame crawling up his neck and those dark, seedy little eyes. He’s coiled into himself, daring anyone to touch him so he can lash out at least once, getting one good strike in. And next to him, the leader of the Kings.
Grisham.
He has a reddish undertone with copper whiskers above and below his mouth, aging him. But his eyes, two blue spheres, still loom with a youthful eagerness of life. Hunger. Determination. They’re calmer than his partner’s though, like he understands this protocol and is willing to submit since its standard procedure.
Reid looks to me.
“Stand them up,” he orders, his eyes unwavering.
Tucker and Chief both yank their hostages from the ground. Unlike the others, Mantis and Grisham’s ties aren’t connected behind their backs. They’re dragged along by their ankle restraints and quickly propped to their feet, wrists cuffed at their front.
Reid has them face their Clan.
Mantis and Grisham take in the grisly scene but if it has any affect on them, they don’t show it. Both Kings remains stoic, as if Reid were wasting their time, as if they had other things they could be doing.
“Regrettably for you,” he looks at his two captures, both unable to speak due to the bundle of cloth jammed in their mouths, “you’ve lost.”
Mantis glares through sharpened slits as Reid passes, but then shifts focus to me, his fury rising. As if it’s my fault he’s here. As if he didn’t start this himself that day when he struck me. His stare sends a shiver down my spine until his head is knocked to the side with a violent blow.
“Eyes off,” Reid growls.
Grisham mumbles beneath his gag. Reid nods to Tucker who removes the cloth as a disturbing smile crosses Grisham’s face. It’s like he’s comfortable with all this, like he’s enjoying it.
“You were always my favorite. Such fire. Leadership. I should’ve known. I should’ve made you my right hand.”
Mantis’s head snaps to Grisham, his eyes wide with wrath. It looks like he’s ready to fly at him but Jace keeps him held down, locked to his post.
“Don’t insult me,” Reid laughs. “You have the perfect hand of the devil here. And I’m not looking for a new post.”
”Well Rogue Rox suits you.”
“You gave me no choice.”
“You always have a choice,” his smile wanes. “You chose to leave.”
“You took my choice when you asked me to snatch Sadie. When you asked me to snatch innocent people,” he gestures to the lot behind them, to the trees with mutated people. “Like your handiwork?”
Grisham shrugs. “It keeps me fed. And it’s not my handiwork. That belongs to Beshib.”
“So you knew what they were doing all along?”
Again, Grisham shrugs. “As I said, it keeps me fed. And isn’t that what survival is about?”
“Don’t seem to be nailing it right now.”
“Well…” he grins, glancing down at his restraints. “Let’s even it out, shall we? Give your Rogues here a real show.”
“You must think I’m stupid.”
“Not stupid. Brave. Honorable.”
Reid bites his lips, considering, “…Still coming back to stupid.”
“Come on Rox, let’s give them a show,” his eyes flare. “They’re nothing compared to what you or I am capable of.”
Reid’s brow furrows. “You never fought on Harrizel.”
“That’s not true. I did… before you arrived. Before they rigged the gate, I was the first to leave and find food. And I was good at it,” he grins pompously. “Every night I’d bring back Gupples. Enough for myself plus some. Bribed others to do what I wanted. Do things for me. Got me laid,” he laughs, “that was the best part. Then Tetlak showed up and it all went to shit. Nearly killed me but I fought that fucker,” Grisham shakes his head, still grinning at the memory.
“He should’ve killed you then.”
“He wanted to. Almost did,” Grisham laughs, “…said he hated humans, everything to do with them, made him sick. But I made him a deal. He said he’d let me live—even supply me with food—if I collected the humans he wanted. I said tell me when and where you want them. Easy as that.”
“And then you started recruiting.”
“I needed help. Business was booming. Thought I put together a good team…” he glances to his fallen Clan, then back up to Reid. “So what do you say? How’s a real duel sound? One that matches your… special set of skills.”
Reid pauses to consider his offer, cupping his chin in thought. A few seconds go by before he shakes his head. “Nope, I don’t think so.” Reid slams his fist into Grisham’s face, knocking him to the ground, motionless. “Move him over with the others.”
Tucker and Chief follow Reid’s order without question. Reid moves to Mantis who is all but squirming out of Jace and Harrison’s hold. He’s ready. Ready to fight, to kill, to unleash the urge coursing through him. Reid nods to Jace to remove his gag and when he does, Mantis’s curses start spilling out of him.
“Now you, on the other hand,” Reid interjects, pacing. “I’m not so ready to throw onto the pile.”
“Going to kill me like a coward?”
“No,” Reid shakes his head, business-like, “you’re going to work for your death. I’m not handing it over that easy.”
I stop. Did I hear correctly? I look to Reid who’s backing up, nodding to his Rogues. He motions behind me, out of the lot of bodies.
“We’ll do it there. Looper, stay with the Kings and Grisham. We won’t be far,” Reid looks back to Mantis. “How about that rematch you always wanted?”
“What’s the point? You’ll kill me in seconds,” he searches him. “Where’s that rod you always carry? Your safety blanket?”
“No weapons. I plan on killing you with my hands.”
Again, my eyes fly to Reid.
“Jace,” he motions for him to follow.
Jace knocks Mantis to the ground and then grabs the cord bound at his ankles to drag him. Mantis squirms, struggling to free himself as the rest of the Rogues follow. Able hooks his arm in mine, escorting me alongside until the Clan wraps itself into a giant circle around Reid, a few paces from the entrance to the mutated lot.
Able and I find a Banyan tree wide enough to hold us, along with Sampson and Pratt who claim our sides. Everything’s quiet. No one dares speak as Jace drags Mantis into the gaping circle and leaves him there.
Reid paces for a second before yanking off his scrub shirt and tossing it to the ground. Cracking his knuckles, he moves like a feral beast, sizing up his prey with a calm but murderous hunger I’ve never seen.
Reid nods at Tucker.
Tucker steps into the circle and with a little, hidden
blade, frees the restraints on Mantis’s wrists and ankles. Mantis flies for him but Tucker jumps back into the Rogues’ shielding circle.
“Scared?” he snivels.
“You’re Rox’s kill,” Tucker shakes his head with all sincerity, as though the outcome of the fight’s already been decided. “Not mine.”
Mantis’s focus darts around the heavy circle. All twenty-seven Rogues, plus a few selected Scouts, watch with a hungry vengeance that could almost rival Reid’s. Mantis turns to face him and raises his arms enticingly.
“Ready Rox?” he sneers. “Or should I call you Reid?”
Reid waits, closing his eyes, his feet apart. Mantis charges him and it all happens so fast.
Just as he rushes head on for Reid, as though to bulldoze him to the ground, Reid pushes off, spiraling through the air and lands on the opposite side of him. Once he makes contact with the ground again, he holds himself on one foot, using the other to fly across Mantis’s jaw.
Mantis staggers back for a moment. He throws his leg up to kick Reid in the stomach but Reid anticipates the hit, dropping his hands on Mantis’s foot, knocking his strike off balance. Mantis stumbles and Reid uses the moment to push him back down before dropping into a crouch-like position and swinging his leg out. As Mantis stumbles backwards again, he trips on Reid’s kick and flies to the ground, landing with a thunderous crash. But he scrambles back up, fists at his sides, his eyes wrathful.
Mantis flies at Reid in a dead run. He swings both fists, aiming to clobber Reid in the face but Rox ducks both hits, matching the engagement with his own blows to Mantis’s right side, finishing with a violent uppercut to his chin. Mantis falls back again, crashing to the ground, his chest heaving.
Has he not seen Reid fight? He must have. Back during the first time they met in combat. Maybe he just forgot or thought he knew…
Maybe Reid was holding back the first time. But now he’s out for blood.
Reid circles Mantis, watching him… waiting.
Mantis takes a moment for himself before gathering to his feet again. He’s slow to rise and when he does, his dark eyes narrow into slits. He’s a bull, ready to bulldoze again but smarter this time. The two of them circle each other for a minute as the Rogues start to add their own chorus of jeers and cheers. Suddenly the dark forest is alive with the fiery spirit of competition.
“All you can do is dance around?” Mantis spits a loogie of blood.
Reid cracks his neck, then his knuckles.
“Come on,” Mantis laughs. “What’cha waiting for there, Reid? Just going to use fancy moves on me all day? That’s not how real men fight. Real men,” and he spits again, “fight in close range. Bet you don’t know—”
Reid is in his face, knocking it back with blow after blow after blow. He must hit him for four or five times before Mantis counters with a jab to Reid’s side. He doesn’t even register it. Accepting the blow, Reid spins around, locking his arms around Mantis’s shoulders and, picking him up, throws him over and slams him into the ground.
Mantis lies still for a long minute.
Eventually he gets up, his face splattered with red. It drips from the corner of his eye, both nostrils and the gaping split in his lip. Again, he takes his time in recovering to a full stand but just as he gets to it, Reid is at him, delivering several sharp hits to his center frame with dagger-like fingers. He finalizes it with a roundhouse kick to Mantis’s head, knocking the King back to the ground.
The Rogues erupt in cheering roars as Reid circles Mantis’s body.
“It’s almost not fair,” Able whispers in my ear.
“Is he really going to kill him?”
“He said so.”
After a minute of pacing Mantis’s nearly limp body, Reid yanks him to his feet. Mantis’s eyes are barely open, his face a swollen mash of red. Barely conscious, Reid drags him by the neck of his scrub from the center of the circle toward me. My heart beats erratically as the two draw closer. Feet away, Reid throws Mantis to his knees. Grabbing his hair, he holds the King’s head high, so he can look at me.
“I’ll let you live,” Reid growls. “If you apologize to her.”
With only his left eye half-open, Mantis takes in my sight. By the look on his face, he might already be brain damaged but he still manages to spit a bloody mouthful at me. It lands in a small puddle at my feet.
“Wrong,” Reid places his hands around Mantis’s head. In one swift movement, he twists it to the side and Mantis’s body falls to the ground, limp. Heaving out exhausted breaths, Reid looks to me and I freeze.
There’s something there, something lingering in his eyes, haunting them. It’s the kill. The killer staring back at me. Part of me wants to rush up and hold him but the other part is frozen stiff. Reid’s an animal right now, a lethal, unmatched predator.
He’s Rox.
I’m too in shock to really do anything except stand here and allow the tree and Able to hold me up. But even Able has withdrawn his arm from mine.
Reid glances around the circle, which has erupted in cheers for him. He motions for Tucker and Jace and then down to Mantis on the ground. The two Rogues run out and start dragging the limp body back toward the mutated lot, everyone else following. Sampson is at Reid’s side, the two in quick, quiet chatter.
Able links arms with me again, directing us behind the other Rogues. Still in too much shock to really do anything, I allow Able to lead me away, trying to wrap my mind around what just happened. What I just saw.
“Looper,” Reid says once he returns from his chat with Sampson. “Your shift tonight?”
“Yes, Rox,” he’s a boy in his late teens and has fragile hazel eyes which blink up to Reid with a slight hint of awe.
Still full of heavy breaths, he gestures to another kid across the way. “Aristen, stick with Looper. We’ll retrieve you tomorrow before we begin. Be ready.”
“Yes, Rox,” they both say.
Reid nods to the other Rogues scattered through the mutated lot. Most stand at the ready, as if another order to fight was coming, as if they were ready to take the Castle back now. All pumped with adrenaline from the scene they just witnessed, they’re eager to join Rox, to bear the bloodied knuckles and heroic sweat that paces back and forth like a lion roaming in its den.
Keeping his head low, Reid rubs his hands together. “You’ve done excellent Rogues. Everything asked of you and more. And this,” he points to the lot of fallen Kings, glancing around his own Clansmen. “You did this. But, the fight is far from over. It hasn’t even begun. Tonight…” he takes a few steps. “We can sleep knowing we’ve cleaned the Castle of its termites. Tomorrow,” and now he stops, his stone body still as he catches eyes with his Rogues, “we’ll rid it of its Vermix.”
The Rogues erupt in a mighty roar, each throwing their fists high in the air. ‘Rox’ is cheered over and over in triumphant praise, wave after wave filling the dark night with the roar of his name.
Reid stands, hands on his hips, drowned in cheers and gratitude by his Clan. He’s defeated the Kings and now he’s on to claim the Castle, to give them back their freedom. Able was right—Reid is everything to the Rogues. They’d do anything for him, anything at all. It doesn’t matter. Reid is their leader, their fearless general to lead them into battle.
He’s their Rox—unbreakable.
Reid motions back out of the lot, Tucker and Sampson instantly joining his side. The three disappear between a set of fat trunks, already lost in private words. Jace, Chief, Harrison and Kelly follow behind them quickly, the rest of the Rogues after that. Pratt keeps to my left while Able pulls me along on my right, leading us into the stream of Clansmen.
We make our way back to the division, where the misty field of Banyans meet the jungle and then through Ellae. Finally, we reach the tunnels and make it to the Castle’s stairwell, the Rogues departing one by one. Sampson, Pratt and Vix all break off and eventually, it’s just Reid and I.
Thought after thought erupts in the slow walk t
o his room, my chest booming like a drum. The scene plays in my head, images of Mantis’s twisted head and limp body suffocating me. I follow Reid to his room in silence, biting my lip while trying to dispel everything I saw, everything that happened. I’m not sure what I expected but it wasn’t that. And now, now I know what Reid’s capable of. What he can do if he must.
Finally, we reach the familiar crimson arch. He steps in and I’m right behind him, my heart ticking heavily, sounding throughout my body like a countdown.
Reid moves for his mirror. He checks the side where Mantis got his jab in but there’s no mark to indicate a hit was even received. Exhaling, he examines the rest of his body from earlier, in the Courtyard. There’s a tiny gash on his right shoulder and some pink swelling down on his lower back but nothing else. Finally, he turns his focus on his bloodied knuckles which he flexes a few times. In silence he moves for the bowl and places it atop his bed.
I’m at his side, taking the container from him. “Let me do it for you.”
“You want to?”
I rub the medicine onto his knuckles in circular motions and do both hands slowly, making sure each bit of torn skin is addressed. When I’m done with his hands, I have him turn around. I rub some of the Vilbrees on the gash on his shoulder and even some on his lower back, where the pink swelling has turned a dark red. “There. All done.”
He nods, returning to the mirror to check himself one more time. After a minute, he props his arm against the wall, his head dropping. “I didn’t mean for you to see all that.”
I frown, returning the bowl under his bed. “Then why have me go?”
“Are you kidding? I couldn’t leave you behind unguarded. But,” he wipes his hands down his face, “I didn’t want you to see that. You…” he risks a glance at me, “are you scared of me now?”
Am I?
“Why would I be scared of you?”
He turns around, leaning against the wall as he crosses his arms. For a long minute he only stares at me. He’s trying to figure something out.
“So it doesn’t bother you?”
Escape from Harrizel Page 33