Liberty

by Kirsty Dallas

  “You see, young Robbie the Rumbler here has a woman…” Jebediah paused, “… and Crazy Carl has a fondness for Robbie’s woman, and if there’s a more noble cause for a fight, I do not know of it. Ladies and gentlemen, whores and brutes, tonight… we are fighting for love!”

  Carl laughed and turned to one side, winking at somebody. At this point, I was seconds away from panic. Desperately, I sought out Prudence who stood sobbing about ten feet from the fight. Her long blonde hair tied back at her nape, her heart-shaped face filled with tears. Her brother and one of Ink’s soldiers, Ethan, stood at her side, his arm protectively wrapped around her shoulder, a fury burning in his eyes which were solely focused on Carl. They were surrounded by three of Jebediah’s men, each brandishing his gun, their stoic faces directed to the field before them.

  “Winner gets the girl,” Jebediah shouted.

  “No!” I sharply snapped. “You can’t do that.”

  “Ink, keep your woman in check. Otherwise, I might just put her down there next.”

  Shaking my head, I tried to turn in Ink’s arms. To do what? I had no idea. But this had to stop. It was nothing short of barbaric. Not even Kingsley Duke’s fights were for the prize of a woman. I had to get down, first and foremost. Strong arms held me in place as I struggled to get free. I needed to get to Prudence, stopping this madness the only thing on my mind. Ink growled low in his chest, one hand coming up to wrap around my neck, his thumb pushing my chin up so he could see my eyes, his other hand wrapped around my waist trying to prevent me from leaving.

  “Be calm,” Ink whispered with a hard tone. “Robbie is a good fighter, he can handle this.”

  “This is cruel. We can’t allow this to happen,” I hissed back, frantic with the need to stop the fight.

  “I agree, but there’s nothing we can do right now. We are unarmed and outnumbered.” Somewhere in my mind Ink’s hushed words made sense, yet the heartless terms of the fight were so unjust and absurd, I simply could not comprehend not doing something.

  “There are over a hundred of our own people standing out there, Ink. We can fight back.”

  “They’re innocents. They’ve never shot a gun, never thrown a punch. They’re farmers, cooks, and builders, not an army. Even if they could fight back, Jebediah’s men surround us, and they are heavily armed. We are unarmed. If we fight now, it will be a bloodbath.”

  Sense slowly bled through the panic, and however wrong it felt not to fight this, there was nothing we could do.

  “Are you two quite finished,” Jebediah drawled from the other side of the platform.

  Ignoring him, I clutched Ink’s jacket and took a long deep breath. He was right. We were trapped and to try and fight now would be suicide.

  “We got this,” I breathed, not sure if I was trying to convince myself or Ink.

  Ink didn’t answer, but he did give my arms a slight squeeze. Slowly, I turned, not at all ready to face the horror playing out before me, but I would, for Robbie and Prudence. I glared at Jebediah, who merely smiled as he nibbled on his stupid lip rings.

  “Boys…” His sharp shout through the microphone made me wince. Crazy Carl reluctantly dragged his taunting gaze from Robbie, watching Jebediah carefully. “You know the rules, but I will repeat them for the sake of your adoring fans. Until the first bell, you may only use your fists or your feet… or hell, your teeth. But after that bell you may select a weapon.” Jebediah pointed to the two poles in the ground.

  Oh shit! I now realized what was hanging from their tops, it was knives, cleavers, and an ax. Sharp weapons, weapons for permanently disfiguring and killing. Covering my mouth, I caught my pained groan as Ink’s fingers dug into my shoulders.

  “A knockout is a win. We have a medic on site to confirm a knockout, so don’t think about faking it,” Jebediah snickered. “Obviously a kill is a win, and our champion takes home the girl.”

  The people of Liberty were quickly growing noisy. Their objections shouted out into the night with their angry voices filling the air.

  “Feel free to voice your concerns… I have bullets ready and waiting for those of you who wish to nitpick and moan.”

  With that, they quickly died down. Arrogant arched brows dropped into a satisfied smirk as Jebediah turned his attention back to the fighters.

  “Gladiators, fight,” he screamed.

  Crazy Carl laughed, before turning to face Robbie and charging across the ground. My entire body was strung tight, and I tried not to blink even though the smoke from the torch behind me stung my eyes. If I blinked, I might miss something, and I had a foolish notion that I could somehow prevent Robbie from being hurt by sheer will alone.

  Robbie ducked under a wild swing from Carl, landing a heavy right hook into the man’s stomach. With a followed-up sweep of his foot, Carl stumbled, falling to his hands and knees. Recovering quickly, Carl jumped to his feet and threw a punch which glanced off Robbie’s arm, unable to break through his defense and reach his face. I’d seen Ink sparring with Trigger and Fury enough times to recognize Robbie’s technique as opposed to Carl’s scrappy fighting style. Lifting a knee, Carl struck Robbie in the groin, the painful moan spilling from his lips made me feel sick. With Robbie’s arms now lowered, Carl attacked, throwing punches that connected with the resounding slap of flesh on flesh. The men’s rasping grunts and groans could barely be heard over the yelling of Jebediah’s men, who were obviously all cheering for Carl.

  “Suck it up, Robbie. Stand up and fight,” Ink yelled over my shoulder.

  Even though I wanted to hit him for encouraging this madness, his words did seem to give Robbie a spark of life. He stood taller and threw a barrage of heavy punches at Carl, all of them connecting with either his face or stomach. Suddenly, a loud bell rang out, and my stomach rolled. Carl was first to stumble away. Turning, he ran toward one of the poles with weapons swaying from its top, leaving Robbie panting in the middle of the arena.

  “Move,” Ink shouted.

  Carl was already at his pole, shimmying up and reaching for something resembling a sword.

  What the fuck, this was crazy!

  My gaze darted to Robbie who had reached his own post and was yanking frantically to free an ax.

  “That’s it, good choice,” Ink whispered.

  By the time Robbie dropped to the ground with his weapon firmly in his hand, Carl was already on him, swinging his deadly weapon. I flinched as Robbie jumped back, narrowly missing the sharp edge of the blade. Using the pole as a barrier between him and his opponent, Robbie continued to move on his feet as Carl’s drew his sword back and swung. It connected with a loud thump against the wooden post.

  When he went to pull his weapon away it appeared to be stuck, the blade having wedged deep into the timber. Robbie took advantage of Carl’s mishap and lunged forward, swinging his ax. Carl dived to one side, narrowly missing the sharp end. Carl was now without his weapon and ducking and weaving as Robbie swung for dear life. Reaching for the sword handle again, Carl tugged to free the blade from the wood, the muscles in his back shifting under the strength he was using. The scream that filled the night as Robbie’s ax connected with a sickening thud into Carl’s thigh was a sound that surely would raise the dead. It was filled with pain and horror, a sound that would stay with me for eternity.

  With his free hand, Robbie punched Carl hard, and he immediately released his sword which was still lodged in the wooden pole. Robbie dropped his ax and hit Carl again, and again, and the man gradually backed up until stumbling with his now wounded leg. Once vulnerable on his back, Robbie kicked aiming for the head, and Carl’s body rocked with the force until it settled back in the trampled grass. Unmoving.

  Robbie began to walk away and a sigh of relief escaped my lips. When he dipped down to recover his ax and moved back to Carl, I tensed.

  Surely he wouldn’t kill him.

  Carl was unconscious—that was a win.

  Raising the ax high into the air, I couldn’t hold back the scream as Robbie
slammed it down into the earth right beside Carl’s head, missing by mere inches.

  Jebediah’s men who’d been shouting support were silenced, only gentle sobs broke the quiet tension in the field.

  For Liberty, this place had always been one of celebration, a place where we reveled in the joy of a birth or marriage, a place where children ran and played. It was sacred for us, and now it was coated in the blood of Jebediah’s sick mind.

  My entire body shook, and I felt Ink’s forehead rest on top of my head, a long breath finding its way to my neck. “He won,” I finally whispered.

  “Well, shit,” Jebediah growled. “That was anticlimactic.” Turning to one of his men he shook his head in dismay. “Can you believe he got his sword stuck in a post on the first swing?”

  No one answered him, though I had half a mind to tell him to go fuck himself.

  “Are we done here?” Ink asked, the savage fury in his voice crystal clear.

  Jebediah waved him off. Literally, his hand gesturing for us to get gone. My legs felt numb, but I moved regardless, quickly making my way to the ladder, eager to get off this rickety thing and away from this man’s madness.

  “Jebediah?” I paused when I realized Ink hadn’t moved to follow me.

  Jebediah turned to face Ink, exaggerated impatience clear in the frustrated breath of air that left his lips.

  “This won’t be happening again. I couldn’t care less if your men want to fight, but you leave my people out of it.”

  All casual pretense in Jebediah’s body disappeared, his sharp gaze narrowing. Jeze stood a little taller beside him, her hand caressing the gun holstered at her hip.

  “No, no, no…” He shook his head. “Not your people, Ink. They are mine. You are mine.” Peering over Ink’s shoulder, he pointed one long pale finger at me. “And soon enough, she will be mine, too.” When I could feel Ink lunging toward Jebediah, my hand snapped out, fingers clenching in the material of his shirt which pulled taut. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I held on tight, dragging him away from the single craziest decision of his life.

  “I want to go, Ink. Now!”

  There was no way I could physically stop Ink from attacking Jebediah, but my words seemed to restrain him somewhat. The soldiers on top of the platform shifted restlessly, their guns raised and waiting for their leader’s order to shoot. Jebediah didn’t give that order, though. Instead, he stared at Ink whose rage-filled eyes glared right back. No words passed, but plenty was said with those heated moments.

  Hate.

  Vengeance.

  Death.

  Tugging on Ink’s shirt, I pulled him toward the ladder.

  “You go first, you can break my fall if I slip,” I said, trying to break the tension.

  Ink climbed over the side and began to descend, and I followed him over, my hands shaking which in turn made my grip feel precarious at best. When we reached the bottom, Ink wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight, clinging to me as if I were life itself.

  “I won’t let you fall,” he murmured. “Let’s go check on Robbie, and get the fuck away from all this crazy.”

  CHAPTER 8 – Ink

  There was a second gladiator fight one week after the first. This time there had been music, a thumping, raging beat pouring from speakers.

  The second fight was between one of Jebediah’s men, a battle-worn beast by the name of Joseph, and one of my own soldiers, Isaac, a thirty-three-year-old former ranger. Like last time, they fought for a woman. Isaac didn’t have a wife or girlfriend. But he was determined that Star, the beautiful, curvaceous twenty-three-year-old that Jebediah offered as a prize, would not be forced into a pairing with any one of these men. The fight was long and bloody, Isaac using a knife and Joseph a machete, but Isaac won when his opponent grew weak from blood loss. Nobody died, which seemed to piss Jebediah off something fierce.

  Grace stood stoically before me through the entire thing. Her back to my front, her touch centering me and keeping me from doing something suicidal, like attacking Jebediah. Even though she didn’t panic like she had the first time, she still struggled to keep her composure. Jebediah seemed to get a certain amount of pleasure in watching Grace squirm through the bloody fights. I’d never witnessed anything like this, but I’d seen enough violence and death to keep my emotions in check. This brutality was affecting Grace, though. Nightmares were plaguing her, and the dark shadows under her eyes and the way her smile had dimmed told me she was suffering in silence.

  After the fights I would walk Gracie back to her cabin, help her remove the layers that protected her from the freezing winter air, then we would climb into her small bed and hold each other close. No words were exchanged. There was nothing either of us could say to make our situation any better. Every stolen chance I could find I was trying to close the oceans of distance between us. Simple, soft touches and raw, honest words swam me closer and closer to her shores. She hadn’t forgiven me, nor did I expect she ever would, but I was beginning to regain her trust.

  Winter had begun with light snow and sleet, bringing our compound into a time of year most hated. Simple chores became difficult, more time consuming and grueling. The light snow would soon turn heavy, which meant the paths between buildings and homes would need to be shoveled daily. As the world grew colder, life became harder, particularly life at the compound.

  “Robbie was confrontin’ Jebediah because that crazy fucker Carl was causin’ Prudence trouble.”

  I nodded, my thoughts far away and distracted as Fury explained to me what Gracie had stumbled upon that day with Jebediah and Robbie. I’d figured as much after it was revealed Robbie was fighting Carl, and why. What I couldn’t understand was why Robbie didn’t come to me with his problem or his attitude toward Grace. Going to Jebediah directly had been foolish. He could have ended up dead for his bold move.

  “Abigail, Maddie, and Aurora have been visitin’ the barracks where Jebediah has his men set up,” Fury went on. He was working on a generator that sat between us as he spoke, his big hands surprisingly nimble as he slid on the four nuts which would hold the top panel back in place.

  “They there of their own free will?” I asked, surprised to hear the women were interacting with Jebediah’s men. They were definitely three of the more free-willed women of Liberty, sharing their bodies willingly with men often. I’d spent plenty of time with all three, and knew they were always up for a little adventure. However, spending that kind of time with our enemy felt like a betrayal.

  “Appear to be. I spoke to Abigail, she said they were just tryin’ to make the most of a shitty situation. Apparently, some of the men are offerin’ them food in exchange for their services.”

  I snorted at that. Basically, the women were hungry, and the men were exploiting their situation by offering food in exchange for sex. It didn’t sit well with me, but I couldn’t very well forbid them from visiting Jebediah’s soldiers. They’d find a way to see them anyway without me knowing.

  “Told em’ to keep their ears and eyes open. They’ll let me know if they hear anythin’ worth repeatin’.” He looked up at me as he went on. “Figured their sacrifice shouldn’t be in vain.”

  This was so fucked up, on so many levels.

  “I also caught Slink creepin’ about over by the barracks, too.”

  I groaned, loudly. “What the fuck is he up to?”

  Slink was only fourteen, and even though he could sneak up on anyone in the compound, even me, he was just a boy. Jebediah’s infiltration wasn’t a game to be played. This shit was real and the consequences, if he were found sneaking around the militia’s barracks, could end in death.

  “It’s who he is. The boy figures he’s not much good at anythin’ else, and he wants to help. He had two guns on him and five knives he found while snoopin’ through the rooms.”

  “Jesus,” I groaned.

  “I’ve added them to our cache. We need weapons if we’re gonna get through this.”

  Nodding, I ran a hand down
my tired face. It had been agreed we were going to have to fight back. Perhaps overtake the militia’s barracks, but we couldn’t do anything like that while so grossly under-armed. Slink’s addition to our small hoard of weapons would be greatly welcome.

  “If anything happens to him…”

  Fury nodded. “I know, he’ll be careful.”

  “It doesn’t feel right using women and children as spies.”

  “This is war, we need to use everythin’ we have, or more lives are gonna be lost.”

  “Ink…” Someone screaming my name had me spinning around as Fury stood to his near seven-foot height behind me. Hadley was running toward us, panic on her face. “S-S-S-Skye,” Hadley stuttered as she slid to a stop before me.

  “What’s goin’ on, Hadley?” Fury said from behind me, his low, gravelly voice gentled in a way I’d never heard before. Hadley’s gaze rose until it settled on Fury. She was a blip of a thing compared to his hulking frame.

  “C-C-C-Come…” She struggled to get the word out, her eyes squeezing shut as if she were almost trying to physically push the words up her throat and out her mouth.

  I don’t know where she’d come from, but the way she gasped for breath, her cheeks flushed and eyes wild, told me she’d been running like a bat out of hell. Spinning on her heel, she started up again, and I followed, jogging through the trees and around stockpiles of firewood sitting beside cabins. I could hear heavy footfalls at my back and knew Fury was behind me.

  Reaching Ashlynn’s cabin, I watched as Hadley bolted through the front door and I ducked down under the low entry and came to an abrupt halt. Gracie sat on her knees beside the bed, her hand gently stroking that of Skye’s. I only knew it was Skye by the dark tone of her pretty brown skin. Otherwise, I’d have no way of recognizing her. She’d been beaten, her face swollen beyond recognition, blood dripping down onto the clean linen beneath her.