by K. A Knight
“Do you have explosives down there?” I question.
He frowns. “Yes, of course, they are locked up in the armoury.”
It was mentioned the Berserkers must have breached the armoury. Could it be that simple and I’m looking at this too hard? “How many explosions can the bunker withstand?”
“It depends where the blasts are located, each section was built with their own blast doors to contain radiation and explosions, so in theory, if sections are compromised, they automatically seal. It will be liveable, if not all sections are ruined and the blast doors work,” he answers.
“That’s a lot of ifs,” I grumble, rubbing at my head.
I feel responsible for these people. They are helpless if the doors don’t open tomorrow. What do I do? I have to choose between looking after the defenceless or moving on to find my men…
Sitting around the campfire with our warriors, I let their talking and laughter wash over me, and they eventually pull me into the conversation and out of my own mind where I am obsessing over the bombs and my men.
“What about you, Worth?” someone asks.
I raise my eyebrows, looking around to see the gathered warriors, including Dray, Henry, and Erik watching me. “Me what?”
“We are showing old war and battle stories, show us your best scar.” He grins, the fire lighting his face comically as he leans forward. I smirk, I can’t help it. Most would be disgusted by scars, but Berserkers collect them like toys to show off and play with.
I think about it before flashing my shoulder scar, tracing my finger across it. “Got kidnapped by a Worshiper and locked up in his basement. He stabbed me with a blade when I pissed him off. I pulled it out and killed him with it,” I tell them, and laughter sounds around me as I carry on, pointing out one on my elbow next. “Feral tried to bite off my damn arm, I let him chew on it while I hacked at him. I was drunk as hell.” I pull my shirt up and point at one across my side. “I got this one fucking a girl at The Rim. She got a bit wild and we were both drunk. She tried to play with my knives and ended up stabbing me,” I admit around a laugh.
“What about you, Henry?” I inquire, and he launches into a showcase of battle scars.
We laugh until late into the night, sharing war stories and our escapes, and just bonding. We all know each day could be our last, our stories carved into our skin through our scars, so for one night we let go and enjoy the camaraderie. The peace before the storm. A yawn escapes me, so Dray and I head to my tent after saying goodnight and making sure the patrols are in place. I’m exhausted, and as soon as my head hits the sleeping bag, I am out.
Another explosion wakes me much later into the night, and I can’t seem to get back to sleep. Dray is wrapped around me, snoring softly, his face harsh even in his slumber. Watching him and stroking his chest, I let my mind wander.
My back is cold and I wish one of my other men were curled up around it—probably Maxen, since he always has my back, my rock. Thorn would be playing with my hair, while Drax would be cheeky with his head in my lap, with Jax curled at my feet, always protecting me. If I close my eyes, I can almost see them, smell them, feel their touch along my skin, and their whispers in my ear. I fall asleep thinking of them.
Noise has me sitting up and I slip out of the bag, already dressed. I grab my sword as Dray hops up, going from deep sleep to awake instantly. I throw him a worried look and hurry outside. Shielding my eyes from the early morning rays, I spot the watcher on one of the next building’s roof pointing into the distance just as a patrol comes skidding to a stop right in front of me.
“Someone’s coming,” he tells me.
Clash of the Queens
I fasten my holsters as he speaks. “How many, how far out, anything we can recognize them by?”
“Friend or foe?” Dray snarls from behind me.
“Couldn’t see anything to distinguish them, two people at max, one bike, about ten minutes out, but they are heading right here,” the man rushes out.
I frown. “Which means they know where here is. Maybe a dweller, a patrol?” I growl. “Get me Evan and my father, they might know who, and when they pull up, we will be ready. Two people against us is nothing. Let’s see what they want, don’t attack on sight, let them through,” I order, and people scramble to do as they are told. I march through the camp. Bern and Henry fall in on either side, while Dray walks behind me, and I spot Archel already beyond the row of bikes, almost blending into the shadows of the building. Unless I was looking, I wouldn’t have seen him.
I weave through the bikes and wait, my hands loose at my sides, ready to grab a blade if I need to. The rest of my people spread out behind me, waiting for them to arrive. It doesn’t take ten minutes, so I guess they are speeding to get here. “Are there any patrols out there?” I ask my father when he rushes up to me, looking over my shoulder.
“No, no, they were due to go out when it all happened.” He frowns.
“Well, someone knows where you are and they are coming right here. No one attacks unless I do,” I call louder, and I hear the agreement just as the rumble of an engine reaches my ears. The bike slows, and I spot them in the distance zigzagging through the buildings and gates. They know exactly where to go. The riders head straight for the bunker doors so I whistle. They stop then, leaving the engine running and scan the horizon. I raise a hand, letting them decide. I can’t make out much apart from the person at the front is a guy and there is a passenger behind him.
They seem to be debating their options, but slowly pull around the building towards us. I spot the Berserker guards from the bunker door closing in behind them as they come to a halt. They don’t shut off the engine, obviously sensing trouble. I take in the guy in the front. He is huge, a beast of a man, and he looks like he belongs out here, not down there. That’s what throws me off.
Then I blink incredulously as a brown-haired woman jumps off the back and steps next to him, facing me. I scan her, noting the bow on her back and swords at her sides. She’s wearing a leather jacket, a crop top, and black jeans and boots. Her hair is wavy and tied partially back in small plaits. She is beautiful. She looks sweet and innocent and ever so young compared to me with all my scars, but it’s the fire, the resolve, and anger in her eyes that has me almost smiling. She might look nice, but this woman is a fighter through and through.
“Piper,” comes a strangled whisper.
“Pip?” a voice yells, and I turn to see Evan gaping. He lunges forward, but I nod and Dray holds him back. I look to Archel to see he has stepped from the shadows and is staring at Piper, his face not expressionless for once. He is staring at her in wonder and horror, but I can’t help but note the happiness in her eyes when she sees him.
“Brawler?” the big man asks, but she ignores him, her eyes swinging from Evan to Archel then to me.
“Okay, someone better tell me what the fuck is going on before I start kicking ass and taking names…or Jago does and I cheer from the side.” She props her hands on her hips and looks at Archel first. “Should have figured you would be here if there was trouble,” she scoffs and then breaks into a smile. “Missed you, Shadow. Wait until you see what I can do with a dagger now.” Then she seems to collect herself and looks at Evan.
He is sagging in Dray’s arms, looking like he has seen a ghost. I feel for him. I felt the love he had for her, and now he’s found her and he has to see her so clearly enamoured with two other men. “Hi Evvie, long time no see, loving the whole hobo chic look you are going for.”
He gasps, sounding like he’s in pain. “Pip, fucking hell. Pip, they told me you were dead!” he screams, tears gathering in his eyes and she winces.
I look around, noting the audience, and sigh, drawing everyone’s gaze. “Let’s take this inside, we have a lot to discuss.” I whistle, waving my fingers in a circle at the Berserkers guarding the rolling door, and they go back to it. Then I look at Dray. “Let him go. Bern, get the patrol back on it. Henry, work with the dwellers. I want to know wh
at the fuck is going on down there. Everyone else, I want no fucking bodies, fight, fuck, I don’t care, but no deaths!” Then I turn to Jago and Piper. “Follow me.”
I start to walk back to my tent while people break into movement, but Piper’s whisper floats to me on the air, making me smile. “Who is she? She is badass as hell, total girl crush material. Think she would let me touch her swords? What? Don’t look at me like that, I meant an actual sword, not cocks, jeez.”
“Brawler…” The guy with her groans, sounding pained and amused all at the same time.
“What? Not saying I would swing that way—ha—but damn that is one scary fine woman, like I bet she even fucks scary hot, you know?”
My tent is crowded with everyone, but we make it work. I stand rather than sit. Just because they know these people doesn’t mean I should automatically trust them, and by the way the big guy, Jago, watches everything, I know he is a fighter, so I keep my eyes out and my body ready just in case. Dray has no such qualms. He sprawls back on the sleeping bag, watching the newcomers with half shut eyes like a big cat. Bern and Henry are in the back near the door. Evan still is staring at Piper, standing near me. Archel is close to Piper and I almost smirk at him.
“Feeling needy, assassin? Why don’t I let your girl know how you lost to me last night?” I tease.
Piper looks between us, even as Archel laughs. “I’m calling a rematch once you know the whole war thing is out of the way.” He waves his hand, dismissing the ‘war thing,’ as he calls it.
“Okay, seriously, what the hell is going on?” Piper asks, looking at me. Smart girl.
“I’m Worth,” I reply.
“Berserker Queen,” Bern adds.
“The Champion of the Wastes,” Henry inserts.
“Soulmate!” Dray interjects with a smirk, and I roll my eyes.
“Or just Worth, ignore them.”
“More like pain in the ass,” Evan mumbles, and when Piper looks at him he swallows and can’t seem to look away. She appears to have the same difficulty, but manages it when I start talking.
“Why don’t you tell us why you are here?” I query.
“Why don’t you?” Jago fires back, almost seeming to prowl next to Piper, towering over her petite form, yet he doesn’t leave her side.
“I’m not your enemy. My father used to run Paradise, I met him this last year, but I didn’t even know he was alive. I was headed back here after…a pit stop, shall we say, to get some information. While we were here, however, they were attacked.” Rubbing my head, I cross my arms and put them next to my blades. “We helped protect it. Now, the guards and captain are locked down there, sweeping the place for explosives and survivors. Why are you here?” I demand.
Piper looks to Archel and he nods at her. “A messenger came, told me Paradise was attacked, it was gone, so we came straight away. I wanted to make sure…you were okay,” she finishes, looking at Evan.
“Came to where?” I question.
She doesn’t answer and I sigh. “We are going to have to trust each other. Like it or not, there are bigger threats out here than me right now. I trust Archel and even Evan and they are vouching for you, so you should extend the same courtesy. We are not enemies. In fact, I think we might just be allies right now.”
“What clan?” Jago inquires, and I look at him and let my face go cold.
“Was a slave for a while to Berserkers, then a fighter at The Ring, then a bounty hunter. I recently killed Ivar the Mad and took his throne, I now rule the Berserkers and have peace ties with all clans. Which clan?” I counter.
“None, not yet,” he answers.
“This is getting us nowhere. I have information, you have information, we need to work together.” I shrug. “Otherwise, feel free to leave, we have shit to deal with and a war to win.”
“I’ve heard that twice now. What war?” Piper asks, and the excitement in her eyes has me smiling and looking at Archel.
“Huh, picked a fighter, did you? Can she kick your ass or do I need to teach her?”
He groans. “Fuck no, don’t teach her your dirty tricks.”
“What donkey dick war?” Piper questions louder, and Jago groans.
“Really, Brawler, donkey dick?”
“The Cities came north, took some of our people, and they want Paradise. I plan to stop them, want to join?” I inquire, figuring I might as well be direct.
“Shit yeah,” Piper calls, and Jago actually drops his head and pinches his nose as if in pain while Archel laughs.
“Why don’t we discuss exactly what is happening?” I say. Deciding to make the first move, I go and lean back against Dray who’s still sitting on the bed. The tension seems to dim and Piper plops herself on the floor crossed-legged, staring at me.
“I was from Paradise,” she starts, and then seems to shudder, her eyes closing in pain, one I know too well.
“Piper,” I call, and she looks up at me, her eyes swimming with demons. “Everything you have been through, I can tell you I have been through the same. You aren’t a slave for years without seeing the worst of the world. My body is covered in scars, brands, their torture, and pain. Ivar, the king I killed, was my master. I was his favourite, and he tried for years to break me again and again. He raped me, his men raped me.” Dray flinches then and Jago growls, even Archel steps closer to her. “They tortured me, they killed the boy I loved, they killed the man I loved, and they took me from my family. I don’t say this to diminish your pain, I say it to be frank. Whatever happened, here, there is no judgement. How could there be when most of us have been through the same? You were from Paradise, correct? Evan told me you disappeared, that he was told you were dead, but he searched anyway. What happened? You do not have to share everything,” I add, knowing personally how difficult it is to talk about.
She holds her head higher with each word, sitting straighter, that fire in her eyes burning brighter. “I was usually on patrol with Jago, they changed that, and on patrol that night they attacked, raped, and tried to kill me. Ferals got to them and Archel saved me. He took me to a place of people, The Forgotten, they were once from Paradise as well. They learned of the corruption and left.”
“Who, what corruption?” I ask, sitting forward.
“The captain, he ordered it, he warned me. The people, my people, told me this was done often, nearly all the time, and anyone digging too deep was killed. Paradise is corrupt, you say the captain is here? Let me be the one to kill him,” she begs.
“He’s yours,” I agree instantly, knowing she needs that. “Sands below, I knew something was off here.” Dray rubs my back. “Okay, you know anything about the Cities?”
She shakes her head but Jago looks at me. “I do.”
I narrow my eyes. “Tell me,” I demand and he growls, but Piper lays a hand on his arm.
“I trust her, Jago, and I trust Archel and Evan,” she assures him softly. He curls into her touch and sighs.
“I’ve been there once, was sent to map it,” he admits, and I almost flinch in shock.
Fuck, did we just find our leverage?
“Let us start from the beginning. Bern, grab some water and food and get Erik and my father,” I order, and the big guy lumbers away to do just that.
Piper looks from him to me. “Will you marry me?” she blurts out of the blue, and I blink at her, unsure of what to say. “Sorry, but damn, that whole power, in control thing is hot as hell.” She shrugs, not the least bit embarrassed.
“When she’s marrying anyone it’s me,” Dray comments, and I turn to him with a glare and he smirks at me. “What? I said when.”
“Does that mean I get to be best man?” Archel asks.
I look at Piper and she winces. “Sorry, awkward, so, I gotta know. Girl to girl, you slept with him?” She jerks her head at Archel.
I can’t help it, I laugh. “I like my heart in my chest, not on his knife, thank you.”
“Plus, I’d kill him,” Dray adds.
She nods, acceptin
g this. “Okay, what about Evan?” She doesn’t look at him as she talks.
“Nope, sorry, not my type.”
“Huh, figured, you like the big warrior kind, right? I bet they throw you around and you get all kinky—sorry, I’ll stop now.”
I blink hard, really unsure what to say now, so we sit in awkward silence while waiting for Bern to return.
“I like what you’ve done with the place, very minimalist,” she comments, looking around at the tent.
Just then the others push into the tent. My father doesn’t seem to recognize her, but that’s okay.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” I suggest. “Jago, tell us everything.”
“I was born out here, came to Paradise as a kid, and when I made guard they wanted maps of everything. I prefer it out here, so I volunteered. One day they said they knew of a city down south, they wanted it mapped just in case, so I snuck in…” He holds Pipers hand and starts explaining what he knows of the Cities.
The discussion takes hours, and after it my head feels like it’s about to burst with information, but we have grudging peace, so even Jago started to relax. I leave them to talk between them and go over everything. I have enough drama in my life without adding hers. Plus, she seems like she can handle herself, even if she is a bit crazy. Probably from being with Archel too long, or dealing with Evan’s moods.
While I leave the love birds to it, I try to focus on making contact with the captain and his men down in Paradise. They should have opened up by now. That, coupled with what Piper said about the captain, I have a bad feeling. I grab Jason on the way because although he’s kind of annoying, he seems to know a lot about the mechanics of things up here. “Okay, is there a way to contact them down there? They can see us, so I’m betting they can hear us, yet we are blind. I want in or I want visual and audio. Tell me how.”