by Kim Faulks
Pain flared at the back of my thigh as a shot rang out again. I had to keep moving, had to find a path to lead them away. A scream cut through the air, tortured and feral, and it was followed by a roar of desperation…a roar of need, of the kind of savagery this world created.
The need to kill to protect those you loved.
The blast of a shotgun cracked through the air and a barrage of bullets followed.
My knees shook as I slowed to turn my head and look behind me as Pestilence stumbled and then dropped to his knees.
The sight was a knife to my chest.
I stopped…staring as Pestilence lifted his hand.
Green light poured from the ring on his finger.
But it wasn’t enough…it wasn’t anywhere near enough.
Sloth raised the shotgun and took aim, only this time the target wasn’t me.
It was Pestilence.
Heavy drops of rain smacked into my eyes. I stumbled forward, my world spinning out of control.
This was why he didn’t fight me.
This was why he’d looked so sad.
He’d rescued me from Kris and the bomb. He rescued me from the water in the basement. He’d rescued me from my own thoughts and depression.
And now he’d rescue me one last time.
Everything had consequences.
Everything had purpose.
This was his.
“No!” I screamed and lunged forward, waving my hands frantically in the air. “Don’t shoot. I’ll go with you! I’ll go! Take me…take ME!”
The sickening chuckle slipped through the pounding rain. That cruel sound was an icy touch along the nape of my neck. Hairs on my arms stood on end, and, for a second, I couldn’t find a breath.
Cold animal eyes found me as Sloth turned his head.
My boot kicked busted concrete, pitching me forward. I shoved my hand in front as I hit the ground.
Pain flared, stinging through the heels of my palms as I shoved from the ground. Blood beaded in my palms, blending with the rain to run along my arms as I lifted my hands. “I’ll come with you. Just don’t hurt him.”
Sloth’s thick black beard glistened with water as he lifted his head and settled cold, unflinching eyes on me.
“That’s what you want, right?” I gasped and limped forward. I scanned the rusted ruin of a truck and turned to him. “That’s why you’re here.”
There was a twitch at the corner of his eye. A tell that made my knees tremble.
“You,” he murmured and stepped out from the open door. “I know you.”
His eyes searched mine, trying to find the memory…
The same one I tried to forget.
Run Harlow! Run…
And still the ghosts of my past surfaced, ready to take me under…ready to take me back to the night where orange embers came to life against a darkened sky.
Where the screams of my father were silenced with the single blast of a shotgun.
I stared at the weapon in his hands. Was this the gun?
The same one that took him from me?
Rage was a fireball in the pit of my stomach. I glanced at the weapon and then at him.
He was there that night…I saw him.
Was he the killer? The one who pulled the trigger? And for a second it was all I could see…this man…this weapon, while the bloodcurdling screams of my father crowded in.
No…don’t do this!
Run Harlow!
RUN!
My hands trembled as I forced my feet to move. The rest of The Mighty squad scurried from darkened buildings like a plague of rats.
They fanned out, moving closer to the truck. I didn’t look at them, didn’t dare tear my gaze away as Sloth took one slow step and gave the command. “Take her.”
“NO!” Pestilence roared and shoved up from the ground.
The thunder of boots mingled with the barrage inside my head as the green stone glinted on his finger and spread tendrils of emerald light into the air.
The blast of a gun tore through the air with a crack.
His boots left the ground as Pestilence flew backwards.
And the blur of green was all I could see.
All I could see was the blur of green, and all I could hear was the merciless thud as he hit the ground.
Boots thundered, the sound crashing together like a rolling storm as the rest of the barbarians raced toward the truck. Because Pestilence was still fighting, still spearing his fingers in the air—desperate for his power to find a mark.
A guttural scream made me flinch. Black veins spidered across their faces as three of The Mighty dropped to the ground.
I wanted to laugh as they writhed in agony.
I wanted to grab the ring and wield the weapon for myself.
I wanted to kill.
Kill them all.
But I couldn’t.
I couldn’t do anything but stare as Pestilence rolled on the ground in the pouring rain.
Screams echoed from inside the building. The smack of fists on flesh was sickening. I jerked my gaze as one of The Mighty dragged the young father from the shadows.
He kicked and bucked, throwing his fist through the air as he swung. Blood smeared his mouth and his cheek. One knee buckled as he was dragged and then thrown, stumbling once before he fell next to Pestilence.
But it was the beast of a man who strode from the shadows behind them he focused on.
“Archer!” A woman screamed as she was dragged.
The brute had one hand twisted in her long dark hair and the other around her waist. One jerk of her head and her spine bowed.
She was young and thin, her intense brown eyes swallowed by dark circles. But it was the whites of her eyes that gripped me, sparkling like glass as the bastard moved his hand to cover her breast.
“Don’t you touch her! You fucking bastard! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill all of you,” Archer screamed.
The kid was next, kicking and screaming at the top of his lungs. The sight was a kick to my stomach. He was just an innocent—just a child.
“Archer!” The woman screamed again.
Fear kicked and clawed inside my chest, like a trapped bird desperate for flight as the thug who gripped her clawed at her shirt and yanked.
Fabric tore and the sodden sound carried.
I knew what they’d do to her.
I knew what they’d do to me.
I turned my head to the man I’d chained only hours ago.
Now the chains were coming for me.
Fight, acid rose in my throat.
Fight for your life.
I punched my heels into the tar and launched over the gutter toward her. If death was the only way out—then that’s what I’d summon.
I hit the barbarian’s back, sending him stumbling. My chewed nails were weapons as I drove my fingers onto his eyes and clawed his face. “Leave her alone!”
There was no going back now. No hiding…no surviving. My hand slipped to the waist of my jeans. Cold metal hit the sting of my palms.
The weapon was all I had…just an extension of me.
An unfeeling, brutal extension.
The webbing of my hand stretched taut. There wasn’t a shake as I drew, lifted the weapon high, and pressed the muzzle to his temple.
Her wide eyes were the backdrop as I curled my finger around the trigger. “Take your hands off her, now.”
There was a flinch, and then a calmness I’d never seen before. His hand slipped from around her breast. Pink skin called my focus, yet I stayed true, staring into the hungry abyss of his gaze. “Now let her go…nice and easy, don’t make me flinch. I don’t want her wearing your brains.”
“Stop!” Sloth commanded.
But there was no stopping death—not when it whispered your name.
There was a twitch in his eyes, a change of thought…and I saw it all as I squeezed my finger around the trigger.
The gun kicked in my hand, and the boom followed.
Red
was vibrant against the grayed-out world as the piece of shit slammed his hands over his ears and scrambled away.
Two inches was all it took. Two inches to spare his life.
And end my own.
Sloth laughed, and the unhinged sound carried through the roar of the rain. But there was no glee in the sound, no humor at all.
There was terror, though, the kind that made you aware of just how fragile life was, as Pestilence slowly climbed to his feet.
His sodden blue jacket was ripped and torn, strips of fabric flapped in the wind as he lifted his hand.
Sloth stared at the green glow, and then, with one careful glance my way, he issued a command. “Kill this bitch.”
My heart hammered. The world stood still. Pestilence screamed, but I could no longer hear his words. I could no longer hear anything as I swung the gun, took aim, and fired.
The shot went wide, smacking into the truck inches from Sloth’s head.
The thud of my heart was a roar as, one by one, guns were lifted—their sights set on me.
Movement came from the corner of my eye. He was a dark blur sauntering around the corner of a building in the distance—heading towards us.
My breaths stilled.
Energy raced...licking the air with danger.
One of the men seemed to grow restless, craning his head and rolling his shoulders—like he had an itch he just couldn’t scratch.
He slowly turned his head, to find the other merciless thud next to him.
The gun swung with his gaze. Finger was on the trigger, squeezing before anyone else realized.
The shot was a crack through the air, and the bullet found its mark.
Blood sprayed through the heavy drops of rain. Before the gun went off again.
And, in the breadth of a single step, chaos came to this lawless city.
I was hit from the side as shots rang out.
“Harlow, get down!” Pestilence growled in my ear.
The Mighty turned on one another, lunging through the air to kick and hit. Fists swung, screams followed. I couldn’t keep track as one after another, they attacked their own men like beasts.
Sloth scrambled to move, dodging one of his own men as he scurried. He lifted his weapon, took aim, and fired. “Stop it. I said fucking stop it!” His attacker hit the ground at Sloth’s feet, and that’s where he stayed.
But the leader of this band of barbarians was ready to be done. He gripped the nearest guy, tearing him off another of his squad.
“They’re killing themselves.” The words slipped from my lips at the bloody bedlam. “Tearing themselves apart.”
I turned my head, catching wide brown eyes as Pestilence turned his head, finding the stranger heading toward us. “He’s here…War has come.”
The icy touch on the nape of my neck had a name.
I shoved up from the ground as he slipped behind the flatbed truck and amongst the anarchy. Shots were fired, fists were thrown, and, in the distance, the savage snarl of a hound echoed…
Angel limped forward, one bloody paw held high. Her lips were curled, and the savage look of a killer filled her eyes. The sight was a slash to my heart.
I shoved away from Pestilence, desperation filling me now. “Angel…Angel, it’s me.”
She turned her head, black lips quivering as she gnashed the air and settled those inhuman eyes on me. I crawled forward and dragged my foot forward to push off the ground. “Angel, it’s me…Harlow.”
She didn’t seem to notice…she didn’t seem to see me. I reached out, my fingers trembling as rain hit my skin. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She limped forward, and then turned her head.
“I’m going to hurt you. I’m going to make you scream so loud you’ll forget your own name…and when I’m done with you…and my men are done with you, I’m going to cut your fucking heart out.”
The voice clenched my stomach. I turned my head, finding Sloth as he crawled forward. There was no fear in his eyes now—there was nothing but purpose.
I could see it in his eyes…my blood, my torn body…everything he said.
Angel gave a snarl and collapsed where she stood, but Sloth didn’t look at her, didn’t care she was there at all.
He lifted his hand, bloodied knuckles flexing as he edged closer and reached for me.
“I don’t think so.”
I flinched at the voice as the stranger cut through the others. He moved slowly and carefully, one hand resting in his pocket, the other at his side—like he’d set out on a casual stroll on a Sunday morning…and found himself here.
“You won’t touch her,” he resumed, lifting his gaze to find me as he continued. “You won’t even look at her.”
One dark ringlet dropped with the weight of the water to stick to his forehead as he lifted his hand. Red glinted from the ring on his finger, blending with the faint blood splatter on his face. “You won’t hurt her because she is mine.”
And with his words, Angel shoved up from the ground. Brown fur glistened as she took one limping step and then lunged.
I flinched and wrenched my gaze from the sight as Sloth’s screams rang out for a second before they were silenced.
The air was filled with the sickening sound of tearing flesh. From the corner of my eye, she bit and thrashed her head from side to side.
An ache flared through my chest at the sight.
He used her. Used her to kill…the gun trembled as I lowered my hand. He used her because he knew I wouldn’t kill…I swallowed and glanced at the woman from the building—just as I couldn’t kill before.
He eased his hand out of his pocket as Angel calmed and dropped to the ground.
“Harlow,” War whispered, and held out his hand. “You’re safe now.”
There was a tremor, a moment where I wanted to flinch from his touch. Instead, I slipped the gun into my other hand and reached for his.
Power rushed, dancing along my skin to steal my breath. War knelt in front of me and found my gaze. Everything about him was dark, the scruff of his beard, his piercing eyes.
He gripped my hand, taking his time as he murmured, “It’s so good to finally see you.”
The past pushed in, taking me back to the moment I woke in my bed.
Is she ready?
And it was his voice I’d heard. His voice that danced along my toes like a lover’s touch. It was him that kissed me…that wanted to be more than a ghostly touch.
It was him that wanted me.
He reached out, carefully sliding his hand under my arm, and lifted. I shoved up from the ground, stood on trembling legs, and stared into those endless eyes.
Harlow RUN!
My father’s scream echoed. No matter how hard I tried to forget, that night was never far away. Every decision I made was because of that night. I could still feel the panic, still feel that pain. I’d bled that night. Bled a thousand ways I never knew I could as I raced for home, finally falling to my knees outside our building.
TAKE ME! The words still echoed, and as I lifted my gaze to stare into War’s eyes, I could still taste those bloodied screams. Don’t let me live here…alone. You took everything! You took everyone! Don’t leave me…don’t make me live in this world. Make me sick…make me bleed. Make me starve and hurt…make me die.
Those words haunted me.
Everything Pestilence said was true.
I called for disease. I called for war. I called for hunger.
And I called for death.
And here they were.
Angel snarled with the boom of a gunshot. I flinched with the sound of her terror and turned my head. “I need to help her, but something’s wrong. She won’t let me near her.”
There was no emotion in his eyes, nothing but a pure understanding, and, as the gunshots ended, War dropped my hand to wave his fingers through the air. The red glow ebbed and flowed, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Angel gave a whimper, and then a bark. I could see her now, see the animal I l
oved—the animal I knew. Whatever had possessed her in the last few days was now gone.
I left War behind and hurried to her. Blood dripped from the gash on her leg. I yanked the bottom of my shirt, piercing my fingers through the weave to tear and yank. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
But it was my Angel that stared back at me.
My Angel that limped forward and gave a whine.
My Angel that nudged my palm with her nose and gave a tiny lick.
“Oh baby,” I murmured, and leaned closer. The heavy scent of her wet coat invaded, but I didn’t care. “It’s okay now.”
I wrapped the strip of cloth around her paw as she gave my cheek a lick. The men were still fighting, still rolling around on the ground to stab and punch.
Every blow. Every thud.
I felt it all as I tugged the fabric firmly around her leg and held her.
“What the fuck are you?”
Angel gave a warning snarl as I turned to glance over my shoulder. The young father gripped his wife and son, staring at those who were still alive.
Pestilence climbed to his feet, and took a step, placing himself between me and them. “Does it matter?”
I dropped my hand from Angel’s neck and rose. There was a sting on my side as I took a step. My leg shuddered, straining to hold my weight.
My blood was warm, seeping through my jeans to darken the denim. I winced, and limped until I stood between Pestilence and War. “This is only the beginning. I guarantee there’ll be more…and they’ll come in droves. So, you can come with us and live, or stay out here and perish. We don’t have much, but what we have, we’re willing to share.”
The father glanced from one to the other, staring at the rings on my protectors’ hands as the young mother whimpered.
“Then we’ll come,” he answered. “But, I can only speak for us…I can’t speak for the others.”
“Others?” I winced as agony cut deep, all the way to bone.
He turned his head, staring not at the dying men scattered around the flatbed truck, but at the building in the distance.
And out of the shadows they came…stumbling from the rain haze to race toward us.
There were more than I imagined…more than I’d hoped.
I turned my head to Pestilence as he whispered, “You want to tell me again how you’re not here to save anyone?”