by Coralee June
“What’s happening?” I asked, too scared to move. Had we been found out? I tried to remember every detail from last night. Did Cavil somehow recognize me?
“The sirens mean there’s a meeting in the courtyard. All healthy Zone inhabitants must attend.”
I looked to my guys. Shit. I wanted to slap myself for not thinking about their appearance in the Zone. If Cavil saw them, he would suspect something was up. One by one, Louis handed them hooded jackets, and we filtered out of Madam B’s brothel.
The sirens grew louder, and it wasn't until a hand at my back pushed me into the street, that I realized I was standing still. I felt so unprepared. The air smelled of smoke and sewage. I swallowed, a lump of emotion swelling in my throat.
“Split up. Meet back at the home after the meeting,” Madam B hissed before slipping into her perfected expression of indifference, matching the other Walkers shuffling towards the Zone beside me.
Jacob settled in line and grabbed my hand. I felt safe having him near, but my heart beat fast when I saw Kemper give me a weak smile before disappearing with Kaye. Huxley wore a scowl as he begrudgingly followed Blythe, and Patrick strolled past with a giggling Jade and Lowe on his arms. He paused to kiss me on the cheek and whisper, “See you soon, Sweets. Can’t wait to kiss those lips.”
Damn Patrick, always making me smile when I wanted to punch something. Even though I wasn’t close with the Companions, I was comforted that the guys were with them. Should anything happen, the girls would be able to direct the guys on the proper protocol, and I knew my men would protect them.
Jacob kept his mindspeak in his pocket, which was probably a good thing. Unfiltered access to Jacob’s thoughts about Cavil and the empire would undoubtedly get us killed. We strolled as the crowd thickened around us. Heart pounding with adrenaline, I tried to keep my breathing even. We followed the flow of people crammed in the narrow streets of the Zone. Barefoot children stumbled past us, but they lacked the usual playfulness of kids their age. Their shoulders slumped as they moved, and cheerful smiles didn't touch their lips.
"What’s going on?" I asked out loud before silently cursing myself for being so insensitive. Jacob squeezed my hand once more as if telling me it was okay. My skin itched, I wanted to flee. After last night's run-in with Cavil, I hadn't expected to see him again so soon.
When we turned the corner, I gasped when I saw a stage set up in what I assumed was the courtyard. It was surrounded by hoards of Walkers staring up at it. I wrapped my arms around my middle as an assault of flashbacks hit me like a punch to the gut. I forced myself not to hunch over as the physical symptoms of my anxiety wrecked my stomach. I felt like I was going to be sick.
The stage felt foreboding in the distance. It reminded me too much of my time in Ethros. "Be...B-Be strong," Jacob gritted out through clenched teeth. His voice stuttered, but it still held the steel of a man determined. I reached out to grab his hand once more and leaned into his arm, wrapping around him like a vine and clinging to his bravery and resilience.
"The stage, Jacob," I whimpered, eyes wide as I nodded in the direction of the large platform. There, on a wooden bench, with stiff postures, sat Maverick and Cyler. "Why are they here?" Dread pooled in my stomach. I scanned the stage further. Studying the platform, I frowned when I saw the hooded official at the end, cradling an electric ax in his arms.
An execution.
"Jacob," I began. I tried to keep my voice from sounding as shrill and panicked as I felt, but the effort was wasted. I couldn't help the all-consuming terror. "We have to get them out of here. The executioner's here." Jacob turned me to look at him, cupping my cheeks as we stood in the crowd. Walker men and women passed by us in a mindless, obedient haze as I collected myself.
I squeezed my eyes shut as he stared at me more, keeping me in his hands as I breathed in and out. "Hey, get going," a guard nearby yelled. I took an extra second to exhale and nodded.
Jacob was constant and firm, pressing me forward and comforting me with little touches and care. We filed into the dense crowd, and my breathing went shallow. I looked around for the others, needing to feel secure that they were safe. My eyes spotted Madam B, who was sitting almost directly in front of the stage. She was brave.
When the trumpets started, I felt like puking once more. I kept my eyes on Cyler and Maverick, taking in every little detail like it was my last time to see them. The way Cyler's mouth quirked up when he observed something. Maverick's tall posture. Cyler's leg was bouncing up and down, the only sign that he was anxious.
And, as if they'd trained their whole lives to seek me out in a crowd, their eyes found mine. They bore into my soul with their gazes, and I was comforted by their hard stares. I hated how much stood between us at that moment. I wanted to run to them—to save them. Cavil personified fear, and fear was the only thing standing between me and what I wanted.
Above the stage, orange flags folded and floated in the wind. It wasn't until the music stopped and the place went eerily silent that I completely lost my nerve. How could I possibly keep my composure through this storm?
Maverick and Cyler severed their attention from me, and it felt like someone was ripping my heart from my chest. I clutched myself, and Jacob choked out one more word of affirmation. "Br-breathe." I loved him for fighting to be my rock through this.
When Cavil walked on stage, I half expected the flashbacks to hit me like a crescendo too intense to contain, but instead, it was like a sledgehammer fell on my feelings, cracking through the storm of emotions until all that was left was a cool, calm rage.
There, on that stage, looking like a smug, dark-eyed prey, was the man I was going to kill. Seeing him didn't send me into the tailspin I'd expected. It just pushed forward the resolve I'd locked deep within five months ago: I would kill him if it were the last thing I did.
Jacob let out a gasp, and I looked down at our entwined hands, releasing his once I realized that I had such a death grip on him. "Sorry," I whispered with a shaky breath. Guards behind us yelled over the crowd, ordering us all to be silent and listen. Cavil wrinkled his nose, then made a big production of pulling a mask from his pocket and putting it over his mouth with gloved hands. He wore all black, yet not an inch of skin below the neck was showing.
"Walkers!" his voice boomed over the crowd. Numb dread seemed to fill the courtyard where we stood. It was like watching a disaster but being helpless to stop it. "A leader is someone willing to risk danger to serve a greater purpose. Not once did Lackley ever step foot in the Zone. The most he traveled was to the auction post, the most sanitary and guarded outpost here."
I didn't like where this was going. I wished that I had more insight into the Cavil-Lackley feud. It felt like if I knew more, maybe I could decipher Commodore Cavil's intentions.
“You know,” Cavil began again once the mild applause died down. “Lackley and I were friends once. I viewed him as a worthy leader. But Lackley hid his dealings behind closed doors. He wanted to appear benevolent, I think. And this is why I believe that Lackley failed all of you.” Jacob’s breath was impossibly shallow, and I locked my eyes on Maverick and Cyler once more. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Cavil just wanted a forum to speak highly of himself.
“Lackley had his merits, don’t get me wrong. As the population grew, our resources were dwindling. Influenza X saved the human race. Only the worthy survive, you see. We can also thank him for establishing the class system currently in place.”
How could he think any of this was okay?
“But I don’t deal my punishments behind closed doors. I lead with an iron fist and a strong stomach. Nothing scares me. Nothing. I am fear. Which is why I am here today, to show you how strong I am, and how I will never fail you as Lackley did in that regard.”
At his last words, a shuffling began on stage that made me grab my stomach. Around me, the sun beat down on our backs, and the trees in the courtyard’s leaves were falling. A light breeze picked up my hair, and a baby cried in t
he distance. A lean man with shaking knees scrambled to the podium, and after bowing to Cavil, he took the microphone with a submissive slump. “Today, our gracious leader will execute a traitor,” his low voice growled over the crowd.
I felt the Walkers around me go stiff with awareness. “The man about to be executed has been employed by Emperor Cavil as a scientist researching the cure. He was cared for. Provided for. This man was a scientist in Cavil’s employment, and his studies flourished under Cavil’s careful guidance and tutelage.” Oh God. Maverick. Cavil was going to kill Maverick, and I was going to have to watch.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I furiously wiped them away. I tried to pay attention to the words coming from the speaker's mouth, but I couldn’t help but stare at Maverick. I took in the gentle way his lips pursed while staring at me. His reddish-brown hair. The way his shoulders stood tall and proud, despite knowing that the world was resting upon them. Beside him, Cyler was fuming with anger. Was this my fault? Did they somehow learn that I was with Maverick last night? Did I somehow kill the man I loved?
“This man was gifted with learning from the emperor, and he betrayed our ruler, our people, and our empire.”
I made the decision right there to watch. I knew that seeing Maverick executed would be a sight that haunted me for years to come, but if I’d learned anything from the last five months, it’s that the only emotion worth clinging to is anger, everything else gets you hurt.
“This scientist abused the privilege of working closely with Cavil and consorted with an enemy,” the man said.
I couldn’t breathe as the man growled into the mic, making sure to emphasize his fury. “Huxley, do something,” I whispered under my breath. I didn’t know where he was, but certainly, there was something we could do. Wasn’t there anything we could do?
Jacob held my hand, but his grip was tight. I tore my eyes from Maverick for a brief moment to search the crowd for Huxley. Jacob was on full alert, side-eyeing the crowd, looking for a way out.
“Executioner!” the man yelled. The echoes of his voice bounced off the abandoned shacks in the Zone. “Bring forth our traitor!” I couldn’t swallow. Couldn’t move. I watched the stage as the executioner disappeared behind the tall, black curtains. Pulsing with fear and adrenaline, the rapid beat of my heart made me dizzy with helplessness and dread. When the curtain was pushed back, I watched as the executioner shoved forward a masked man that stumbled and fell to his knees.
I let out a hiss of hope, then immediately felt guilty. What kind of person had I become? Did it make me like him—like Cavil—to prioritize my own family over that of a stranger? They ripped the burlap hood from the man’s head, and I let out a small gasp once I saw who the unlucky man beneath the mask was.
“Allaire?” I whispered in disbelief. I hadn’t thought of him since fleeing Ethros. The scientist had helped us once. And now he was about to die—and I was thankful for it.
“The official scientist of Ethros was caught giving rejection cures to members of the Elite without giving them a fetter!” the speaker of this deadly rally screamed into his microphone, his words a toxic, garbled mess of syllables and spit. I focused on Maverick and Cyler.
“Allaire, do you accept your punishment?” he asked.
A small moan escaped Allaire’s chest as he crawled towards Cavil, kneeling at his feet.
The announcer bent over, then held the microphone to his mouth so we could all hear how he bowed to Cavil’s authority. His lips touched Cavil’s boots, and I forced myself to separate the man before us from the man that I met in Ethros. Although I didn’t know him well, it was still difficult to absorb what would happen next. I wondered who he risked giving the rejection cure to.
“I’m so sorry, Emperor Cavil. I’m unworthy. You control all life. You control the cure. I’m so sorry.” His sniffles and sobs were too much. I shut my eyes for the briefest moments. I tried to imagine myself back in Dormas. Back at the bakery or my bedroom. If I didn’t disassociate, I would do something stupid—like scream at Cavil and attack the stage.
“You’ve failed me. And now that I have a better scientist at my side, I am no longer in need of your services,” Cavil said.
He didn’t bother to stand from his seat, but he still addressed us. Crossing his legs, Cavil leaned back in his chair while lazily holding his microphone. “May this be a lesson to all of you. Do not try to sneak around my rules. I will end anyone or anything that gets in my way.”
Cavil then shifted to the side as Allaire continued to grovel and beg forgiveness. I watched as the announcer nodded at the executioner who made his way forward, carrying the electric ax I recognized from Lackley’s execution in Ethros.
“Do you have any final requests? I’m a good leader, I respect my people,” Cavil said in a bored tone.
Allaire went still for a moment before looking up at Cavil in what seemed like the first defiant moment since arriving on stage. “Let Dominique go,” he growled out, all groveling and submissiveness gone from his tone.
Cavil paused, seemingly impressed with Allaire’s bravery, until he leaned forward and spoke into the mic. “Dominique is my property. The moment I caught you sneaking off with her was the moment she became a prisoner in my home instead of a guest. I should have killed you then, and I’m happy to be killing you now.”
My breathing picked up, and the executioner raised his ax, lifting the glowing blade over his head as Allaire looked up at Cavil. Just before the ax slammed down, severing his head from his body, Allaire let one last ominous statement flow from his lips.
“Then everyone is going to die from X.”
As the blade came down, connecting at the base of his neck where it attached to his shoulders, I watched as the heated blade completely cauterized the slice, severing his head from his body. The cut was clean and smooth. His facial expressions twitched for about three seconds, eyes glassy yet still somewhat aware until the last of his life flickered from view.
But despite all the death and the terrible scene before me, I couldn’t help but focus on what Allaire said. “Then everyone is going to die from X…” What could Dominique possibly have to do with that? Not to mention, if Cavil had Dominique locked up in Ethros, getting to her would be harder than I anticipated. Poor Payne. My heart broke for him.
The crowd around me kept quiet. No one cheered or even seemed bothered by the scientist's death. I expected some reaction, but they just continued to stare on in numbed acceptance. Maverick stood, his face a stoic, stormy blend of anger and regret. Helping the executioner, he put the scientist’s head in a silk sack then exited the stage.
“Let this be a lesson to you all. He who crosses Cavil will die.”
Chapter Eighteen
I leaned into Jacob, and he didn't seem as tense as before. It was comforting to know that I wasn't the only one thankful it wasn't Maverick that fell at the end of the executioner's ax.
Before Cavil exited the stage, he looked over the crowd with beady eyes, and I let out a gasp when his eyes landed on me. Maybe it was my fear and paranoia, but despite the thousands of Walkers around us, I felt his knowing gaze singling me out. I held my breath and kept my chin held high until Cavil exited the stage. "He saw me," I whispered to Jacob.
The walk back to Madam B's manor was long. Eager to see Patrick, Kemper, and Huxley, I took large strides, ignoring the slow-moving Walkers looking about in a haze. At the door of the manor, Louis stood outside with a sanitizing wand. "Strip down and stand behind the curtain to spray yourself," he ordered in a bored tone as we walked up. “Even you, Ash--I mean Shade. You could have the virus on you even though you’re immune.” Sanitizing spray was only forty percent effective, but the Walkers that could afford it still used it. It was especially necessary for Walkers after being in a crowd. You never knew who was infected. You could never be too careful. In the distance, smoke clouds filled the sky. Most Walkers would be burning their clothes tonight. Cavil's required meeting exposed us all, and I couldn't help bu
t wonder if that was intentional on his part.
Jacob rolled his eyes then reached up behind his shoulders and removed his shirt before grabbing the wand and moving behind the screen to spray off.
Huxley and Blythe walked up, and Louis gave them the same spiel. Blythe started stripping out in the open, giving Huxley and Louis an unobstructed view of her body. "Hurry up, Bly. Or I'll tell my Mom you're giving away peep shows for free," Louis said with a playful grin. Their eyes zinged back and forth, a playful passion passing between them like fire. I quirked my brow, momentarily curious about their relationship.
Instead of responding with one of her usual retorts, Blythe scurried past, disappearing behind the curtain where Jacob was currently getting sanitized. She squealed when she saw Jacob, and he ran out from behind the curtain, clutching a towel around his waist and swatting the air behind him.
As the others arrived, I waited until all my men were accounted for. Once it was Patrick's turn to sanitize, I joined him behind the curtain. I helped him out of his shirt then casually turned around, allowing him to undress me.
His hands slid the fabric off my shoulders, and he groaned when he saw that I wasn't wearing a bra beneath my dress. "I know now isn't the time, but if Louis weren't right there listening to us, I would take full advantage of this situation."
I bit my bottom lip, almost feeling guilty that I was out here contemplating letting Patrick distract me with his touch after what we'd just witnessed. I turned around, hoping to remove the temptation, but he merely groaned once more when he saw my ass.
"No funny business, I'm in a hurry," Louis called to us, making me almost smile.
We both took a moment to sanitize ourselves, and I finally asked, "Are you okay?"
Patrick took a moment to respond. "Not really." His voice lacked all of its usual playfulness and the easygoing lull I'd come to expect from him. I could usually gauge the seriousness of a situation based upon Patrick's ability to push past the gloom and lighten the burden of everyone else.