“We came here because we received your message. I have been waiting for such a message for a long time. When it finally came, I made the decision to come here. None of the others could dissuade me. I trust you will not let me down?”
“I won’t,” Quinn said.
Chin looked Quinn up and down and smiled.
“Excellent,” he said. “Now, I bring your attention to something a little more pressing that you might be able to help me with. Whatever your news is that you want to tell us, I shall wait. We are not fishermen, and as hard as we try, to simply cannot seem to catch in the numbers we require.”
“We have many fine fishermen who can teach you,” Quinn said. “I’ll tell my people about it and liaise with yours.”
“Thank you,” Chin said. “We Chinese have long memories and will not forget this kindness. In the meantime, I look forward to hearing your idea. If we can replicate what you have achieved here at Arthur’s Port, we will be thriving in no time.”
Chapter Eight
After his meeting with Chin, Quinn felt relaxed. They were allowed to leave without any kind of formal presentation, for which Quinn felt supremely thankful for. All ceremony did was waste time. Especially in the modern world.
“Do you think they’ll come?” Quinn said.
“Yes,” Siren said. “They will. They’ll consider it a matter of honor. You gave them a great gift, the least they can do is give you their presence in return.”
“You seem to know an awful lot about Asian culture,” Quinn said.
Siren shrugged.
“I had a Chinese friend at high school,” she said.
Siren’s head snapped up, in the direction of the guards in front of them. She Sensed something. It wasn’t pride or duty, as she felt from the other guards, but something dark, malevolent…
The wall of guards parted as a guard turned and approached them. It felt wrong, all wrong.
“Look out!” Siren said, pulling Quinn back and out of danger.
The figure roared and lurched at her, knife raised.
“No!” Quinn said, catching a glimpse of what was about to happen as he rolled over in the dirt from Siren’s violent shove.
The guard thrust the knife up, too hard and fast for Siren to stop it.
Another figure shoved Siren aside as she had done to Quinn. It was Hamilton.
He gripped the figure’s weapon arm and held him tight until the other guards rushed to seize the attacker. Hamilton collapsed, blood staining the front of his uniform.
“Hamilton!” Siren said, rushing to his side.
He’d taken the blow for her, and just by looking at his wound, she knew she would never have survived it. Hamilton was wearing armor and he was far stronger and thicker than her.
Quinn rushed to Hamilton’s side.
“Bring a doctor!” he said.
A pair of guards rushed back to town on horses.
“You two,” Quinn said to another pair of guards. “To go the Chinese. They might have a doctor too. Go. Now!”
“It’s okay,” Siren said to Hamilton. “You’re going to be all right.”
“The Controller,” Hamilton said, blood dribbling from his lips. “Is he… Is he…?”
“He’s fine,” Siren said. “You concentrate on holding on. Help is coming.”
“You saved me,” Quinn said to Hamilton and Siren. “Both of you. You saved me.”
“If we don’t, who will?” Siren said.
They crouched over Hamilton. Live or die, he would die in the company of friends.
Chapter Nine
The wonderful thing about living in a community is knowing someone would be there for you if you got hurt or injured. You wouldn’t get tossed out like a bag of chewed up chicken bones. A community was there to aid you.
The Chinese doctor was Western-trained and not someone who practiced supernatural nonsense. He even went to the satellite town of New Spring where they found a local’s empty bedroom for Hamilton to rest in. He used what few medicines he had on him, before Arthur’s Port’s doctor turned up.
Together, they patched Hamilton. It was a bad injury, but not one he would die from. They left him in the house, along with the doctor and the local resident.
“I’ll send you extra supplies,” Quinn said to the woman. “Everything you need. Hamilton won’t be here long, only until he recovers enough to return to service.”
“It’s no problem,” the local said.
“Thank you,” Quinn said.
As he turned away, his expression turned from warm to mutinous.
“We have to find who is sending these assassins,” he said. “Where is the assassin? I want to question him.”
“Being buried as we speak,” Siren said.
“Buried?” Quinn said. “But we didn’t harm him.”
“Cyanide,” Siren said. “The coward’s weapon.”
“Who would send assassins to kill me when I offer them the solution to their problems?” Quinn said. “And who would rather kill themselves than let themselves get captured?”
“Someone with nothing to lose and a whole lot to gain,” Siren said.
As Quinn puzzled over Siren’s words, they proceeded on to the next community that had come to visit them. This was turning into a very long and disturbing day.
Chapter Ten
Before they even reached the final two communities, they came upon a disturbance. Two groups of men and women, distinguishable by the color of their skin, were beating the hell out of each other. One gang was black, the other Hispanic. They were so busy fighting that they didn’t notice Quinn and his retinue approach.
“What the hell is going on here?” Siren said.
The fighting men and women stopped, releasing one another so their friends could seize them and pull them back to the safety of their respective groups.
“Who are you?” one of the larger black men said.
“I am the Controller at Arthur’s Port,” Quinn said. “I am here to speak with your leaders. Of both communities. I sent messages to you some weeks ago. That is the reason you are here, no?”
The groups looked at each other, then a man on each side stepped forward.
“Yeah,” the black leader said. “I know why we’re here.”
“You invited them?” the Hispanic leader said. “I might as well pack up my things right now.”
They began arguing again.
Quinn sighed audibly and turned to Siren.
“This is going to be a long day,” he said.
Chapter Eleven
Quinn was going somewhere at nights. It was obvious to Siren now. The way Quinn sometimes looked out the window, at somewhere in the distance, and the mud on his boots she’d found that morning. Tracking him wasn’t easy any longer with him being Undead and having no lifeforce footprint for her to trace. She would have to do it another way—the old way—and actually follow him. In order to do that, she would need to know where the secret passageway he had discovered led to and where she needed to wait in ambush for him. It was simple enough, although it took some time to locate the correct lever to open it.
It perhaps shouldn’t have been a surprise that there were secret passageways built within the old keep. It was a building that had its origins in defense, after all. If the occupants were under attack, it would be a huge advantage to be able to sneak around the back of their enemy and attack. Of course, it also worked the other way too. If the enemy discovered the secret passageways, the occupants of the keep would be doomed.
That night before bed, Siren dressed in black clothes. She would need to blend into the night if she was to be successful. She waited for Quinn outside, beside the stables where the secret passageway opened. It had been a long, difficult day, and Siren was already beginning to drift off when the passageway finally opened. She spotted him, sometime past midnight, creeping out like a timid mouse.
Quinn shut the passageway behind himself. Then he hastily moved away from it and turned, heading in the op
posite direction. He kept to the shadows as much as possible, keeping his head low when he passed someone in the street. He was easy to follow.
It only became difficult after they passed through the market and entered the narrow alleys. Siren had to keep changing her pace, speeding up and slowing down to ensure she always kept him in view. At one point, she thought she’d lost him. In her panic, she turned down a series of random streets. She cursed herself, only to then see movement out the corner of her eye as Quinn pushed on down the street and continued on.
Blind luck, she thought. She cursed herself for not keeping up with him. But, she supposed, if she had lost him, she would only try again the next night, and the next, until she discovered what it was he did each night.
They came out of the final line of houses that made the main body of Arthur’s Port, that led to the open green fields of a farm. If she stepped out now, and he happened to check over his shoulder, there was no way to keep herself hidden. There were few items of adequate size to hide her. The good news was, after Quinn had crossed the horizon and gone over the hill, it would be easier for Siren to run to the same hill and peer over it to look down on him moving away.
Quinn disappeared over the horizon, and Siren was already throwing herself forward as fast as she could move, pulling her arms back and forcing herself on. Panting and out of breath, she flopped down on top of the hill and crawled up it to peer over the side. The last thing she wanted was to be a silhouette on a hilltop. Despite the darkness, he might see her in the silvery moonlight.
She arched her neck to peer over the side…
And came eyeball to eyeball with an Undead.
Siren started back, rolling down the hill as she crawled on her hands and feet. The Undead calmly strolled down the grassy knoll and approached her. The fear in Siren’s chest subsided when she saw that. The Undead did not stroll, certainly not calmly.
Siren got up and brushed herself off. The Undead stood before her, taking her in.
“No need to be an asshole,” Siren said.
The Undead opened its mouth and spoke.
“Stop following me,” the Undead said.
“Not until you tell me where you’re going, Quinn,” Siren said.
“I told you,” Quinn said. “I like to go for nice, long walks.”
“We’ve been walking all day,” Siren said. “And speaking with a bunch of different people. I’m exhausted. You must be too.”
“I am tired,” Quinn said via the Undead. “But not in the way you are. I’m always tired. But I cannot sleep. Each time I feel myself dropping off, I can’t. It’s the worst feeling in the world. And because you’re trying to sleep, it makes it even more difficult for you to fall asleep. It’s like that, only all of the time. Since I got bitten I can’t sleep well.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question,” Siren said. “Where do you go each night?”
“Out,” Quinn said.
Siren folded her arms.
“You ought to know me better than that,” she said. “I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay.”
“I am okay,” Quinn said. “I’m surrounded by the Undead. An entire army at my disposal. With this many troops at my command, I doubt there’s anyone in the world who can touch me.”
“The previous Controller probably thought the same thing,” Siren said.
“I can’t promise I can keep you safe,” Quinn said. “If I get hit over the head, attacked, or just fall unconscious, who is going to protect you from the Undead then? How’s that for honesty?”
Pretty good, Siren had to admit. Still, she would not be wavered. She walked around the Undead and crested the hill again. This time she went over the top and headed down the other side. The Undead lumbered to catch up.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Quinn said via the Undead.
“To find you,” Siren said. “As you won’t help me, I guess it’s going to take me an awful long time.”
She marched in a random direction, swinging her arms against the downhill momentum.
“All right, all right,” the Undead said behind her. “I’ll bring you to me. Sheesh.”
Siren was pleased he’d accepted. In his place, she couldn’t say she would have done the same. But then, Quinn was probably thinking about when he returned to the keep the next day and had to deal with her. It would have been a nightmare.
The Undead led her to a quiet brook with a gentle stream of water that ran over smooth rocks. She could see why he came here. It was so private, calm and relaxing. For a moment, she felt guilty. She had taken this one special place he had from him. This was where he came to escape the world and all its problems.
But she was here now. No point in harping on about it. She sat beside him on a neighboring rock. She relaxed her shoulders and let the setting wash over her, the tranquility.
“It’s so peaceful here,” Siren said. “Nice to escape for a little while.”
“It’s all gotten so complicated,” Quinn said. “So much bigger than I thought it would.”
“If you want to change the world, I guess you need to accept there needs to be some major forces at work,” Siren said.
“Do you ever think about when we started all this?” Quinn said. “And maybe making a different decision? To lead a normal, happy life?”
“Sometimes,” Siren said. “But then I remind myself we’re doing the right thing here, helping and protecting these people. By sacrificing our own lives for a little while we can potentially massively improve others’.”
“You’re right, of course,” Quinn said. “Still, it’s harder when you’re the one who has to make the sacrifice.”
There was no denying that. But it had to be someone, to Siren’s mind, so it might as well be them.
“I thought it made sense to lighten the load a little,” Quinn said. “To share a little of the burden amongst others. When we tell the other communities about working with overlords to control the Undead, we’re going to need overlords for us to introduce them to. That’s what I’ve been looking for. And found.”
Just then, a young lad, perhaps thirteen or fourteen years of age, crested the hill. His skin was pallid and grey, his eyes white. Siren stared with more than a little fear at his approach. There was something so wrong about a boy so young to have had his life taken from him.
The lad slow his approach, shying away from Siren.
“It’s okay,” Quinn said. “She’s a friend. She won’t hurt you.”
The boy glanced at her, then lowered his eyes back to his feet. There was no need to ask the obvious question. He was Undead, an overlord.
“My name’s Siren. What’s your name?”
The boy looked up at her, then away again.
“Dexter,” he said.
“Hello Dexter,” Siren said. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Dexter nodded. He had a case of shyness bordering on disease. It was hard to believe a boy like this contained so much raw power. But as Siren could not Sense him standing there, it was impossible to believe any different.
“So, what have you been up to out here with Dexter by yourselves?” Siren said. “How did you even meet each other?”
“I was gathering the Undead around Arthur’s Port when I felt something tickling at one of my latest recruits,” Quinn said. “Someone was trying to take her away from me.”
“Who was it?” Siren said.
“His mother,” Quinn said. “He wanted her back. I gave her back to him immediately, of course. But after that, I felt responsible for him.”
“Where are you staying right now?” Siren said.
“In my old house,” Dexter said.
“Is there anyone else there?” Siren said.
“My mom,” Dexter said. “It was always just me and Mom.”
“I mean, other people like us,” Siren said. “Alive.”
Dexter shook his head.
“Why don’t you come live with us in the keep?” Siren said. “We have lots of emp
ty rooms. You can pick whichever one you want.”
“I’ve already asked him,” Quinn said. “He likes it where he is. He can’t take his mother into town with him where we are. She would only get hurt.”
Hurt an Undead? That was a new one.
“Okay,” Siren said.
Quinn handed over the food and water he’d swiped from his dinner plate. Dexter took it and began tucking into it hungrily. Poor little guy. But there was no good to be had in forcing him to join them when he didn’t want to.
“I ought to leave you guys to it,” Siren said. “I feel like a third wheel here.”
“See you back at the keep,” Quinn said, turning back to Dexter and beginning the lesson.
Siren couldn’t believe they were actually going through with their little plan. Some of the other communities were here, and they were recruiting overlords. If only one community agreed to give their idea a try, other communities would hear about its success. Then, there would be no stopping their progress.
The world was going to change. For the better this time.
Chapter Twelve
Quinn Sensed it a full twenty minutes before he passed the messenger on his way to inform him about the attack taking place. Undead had infiltrated the town of Shipyard, so named due to the large structures it used to harbor its main buildings.
About twenty minutes previously, he had felt the Undead leaving his control, being taken up by another, equally powerful overlord. He was coming in fast, sweeping up the village like a tidal wave. Luckily, the guards there were well-trained and evacuated the town before any of the residents were hurt.
The other overlord, whoever he was, was clearly not interested in killing innocent people. He had entered the town and discovered it empty. He did not attack nor spread from one township to another. Instead, he held that village. He must have Sensed Quinn, just as Quinn Sensed him. And yet he had still chosen to attack. He was either very powerful or very stupid.
The Compulsion Series (Book 3): Expulsion Page 12