The sound of rushing chains signalled the closing gates. The rookies continued moving towards their parts of the wall at a slow trudge.
Hugh then yelled, “Matilda!”
Spike’s heart leapt. He dropped his barrow and drew his sword with a ring of steel.
The other cadets stopped too.
When Spike saw no immediate danger, he spoke from the side of his mouth. “You’d better have had a good reason to shout her name.”
Clearly feeling the pressure of everyone watching, Hugh’s voice warbled when he said, “Come with me.”
Despite the scrutiny of the cadets and team leaders alike, Spike followed Hugh through the still-stationary teams in Matilda’s direction.
As they got closer, Matilda grew redder. “What are you two doing?”
Hugh reached around and pulled Matilda’s sword free. Had many other people done it, Matilda would have resisted, but she trusted Hugh because Spike trusted him, although he was certainly testing her confidence in him right now.
“Hugh!” Bleach said. “What the hell are you doing?”
Again, Hugh didn’t reply. Instead, he lifted Matilda’s sword while drawing his own with his other hand. He banged the two together. Matilda’s sword broke at the hilt and split into three separate pieces.
As Matilda gasped, Spike looked at the shocked faces of those around him. Everyone looked their way, everyone but Ranger, who continued to watch the protectors wading through the long grass as if the drama meant nothing to him.
Tank—team Dragon’s leader—shook his head while looking at the now closed gates. “It’s too late to go back. I’ll keep you on the wall today. We’ll have to protect you.”
When Spike drew his sword, Tank’s eyes narrowed. Spike held it, handle first, in Matilda’s direction. “Take mine.”
She shook her head.
“Please take mine.”
The cadets and team leaders all watched on before Ranger shouted, “Just take it, Matilda. We have a wall to build. None of us care about your lovers’ tiff.”
But Matilda refused Spike’s offer again. Before he could argue, Hugh did the same with his weapon. “Please take mine. I agree with you about Spike needing his, but I don’t even know how to use this thing. We stand a much better chance as a group with you and Spike armed than we do with me and Spike armed.
A slight weakening in her resolve, Matilda took Hugh’s sword and dipped him a subtle bow. “Thank you.”
Hugh nodded before returning to the bucket of water he’d set down with his team. Spike and Matilda shared a lingering look before Spike ran after the boy.
When they were back at their tools, the rest of the cadets having already moved off, Spike said, “Thank you. She needed that.”
Hugh shrugged. “Like I said, she can do much more with it than I can.”
Chapter 12
His barrow now filled with rocks and bricks, Spike watched Hugh lift a bucket of water. They’d returned to the gates to restock their supplies. So soaked, his sodden clothes restricted his movement. The rain still hadn’t let up. “There’s something not right about today.”
“There’s something not right about most days. It’s called a shit ton of diseased ready to descend on us at any moment. I’ve started having nightmares about them.”
“Be honest, you’ve always had nightmares about them.”
Although Hugh opened his mouth to reply, no words came out.
“Anyway, it’s something else.”
“Something more than our imminent death?”
“Our imminent death I can deal with; that’s normal for national service. But why were there no diseased this morning?”
“You’re complaining about there being no diseased? Surely that’s a good thing?”
“You saw how they reacted. There’s something strange about it. Also, why was Matilda’s sword broken?”
“They’re not the best weapons. The only reason ours don’t fall apart is because I service them.”
“How did you know hers was broken?”
“The main screw was missing. There was a shiny silver circle where it should be. It stands out when you know the swords as intimately as I do.”
“Missing or taken?”
Hugh shrugged.
“It just doesn’t seem right.”
“But what can we do about it other than keep our heads down, work on the wall, and remain alert? We have to keep calm and carry on. It’s not like the leaders will give us time off because we’re a bit freaked out. We’re supposed to be freaked out; it’s national service.”
Mercy’s death came back to Spike as he looked at the cadets working on the wall. They were all busy on their own sections, the rain coming down so hard it bounced. “I don’t like—”
The scream of a diseased pierced the air. It cut through the lashing rain and strong wind. Hard to tell where it came from, Spike looked in what he assumed to be its direction. Somewhere near Dragon and Bigfoot. Between Ranger and Matilda. He lowered his barrow and drew his sword.
Nearly one thousand feet between where they stood and the two teams. Spike bounced on the balls of his feet, ready to take off. If he went now, he might get there in time.
Another scream.
“It sounds like it’s going to hit Dragon?”
Although Spike asked it as a question, looking for the excuse to charge into battle, Hugh didn’t reply.
He had to make a choice.
The screams of more diseased joined the first.
Then Spike saw them. Three creatures, they burst through the hole in the wall closest to Dragon. They ran straight at Matilda.
The desire to run surging through him, Spike’s chest tightened. His attention on Matilda, he said, “I won’t make it. They don’t even have the time for everyone to fall back.”
If he ran over to help, he’d face the wrath of both Bleach and Matilda. And for what? To get there when the fight had finished.
Matilda drew her sword, the muscles in Spike’s upper body twitching as if he did every move with her. She swung for the first of the pallid and uncoordinated beasts, her sword landing in its neck.
The creature went down as she turned on the next one, driving the blade of her weapon into the centre of its face.
It also fell.
A scream louder than any made by the diseased, Matilda yelled while raising her sword to attack the third, but she didn’t move quickly enough. The beast took her down and landed on top of her.
Spike’s breathing quickened and his stomach clamped tight. The first creature she’d hit then jumped up, its head flopping to the side from where it had only been partly severed from its body.
Ginger Slink moved fast, finishing the job Matilda had started by taking its head clean off. Tank stamped down, crushing it. He then kicked the diseased off Matilda, Nancy Humberto lunging forward and stabbing its head. But Matilda remained on the ground.
Another scream, another diseased. This time it went for Bigfoot. Ranger had the strength and rage to decapitate it with one swing.
It started as a twitching leg before Matilda jumped to her feet. Those around her drew their swords. It took all Spike had to remain standing. He should have run to her.
Chapter 13
The fierce rain and tears in his eyes made it impossible for Spike to watch it play out. Probably for the best. He’d just lost everything that mattered. But then Hugh tugged on his sleeve. “She’s okay.”
Spike gasped as Matilda raised her hands in the air, those around her not fully lowering their weapons, but giving her the chance to plead her case. Tank instructed her to take her top off, so she stood in front of them in just a bra. Fury boiled in Spike’s stomach, but Tank had to inspect her for bites and cuts.
As much as he didn’t want to look, Spike saw Ranger watching her. The same hatred burned in his dark features, but the violence he stared at her had a tinge of lust. Hopefully the diseased would take him down soon.
Loud enough for them all to hea
r, Tank yelled, “She’s okay. She’s not been bitten.”
As much as Spike wanted to cheer, he kept it to himself. Many had died and many more would die. They shouldn’t celebrate the life of one over others. For a moment, he made eye contact with Matilda and dipped a nod at her, tears now running down his cheeks. Maybe she nodded back, he couldn’t tell.
Spike then grabbed Hugh and pulled him in for a tight hug, his tears gushing out of him. “Thank you,” he said. “Without your sword, she would have died. Thank you so much.”
While patting Spike’s back, Hugh laughed. “Anytime, buddy. Anytime.”
Chapter 14
Had Spike been on the gates yesterday with what felt like a straight day of rain and having nearly lost Matilda, the miserable job would have been even more miserable. They’d gotten to the end of their first month, and team Dragon had been awarded the extra day off. If they’d based it purely on the amount of diseased slain, Bigfoot would have gotten it, but Ranger trying to kill Hugh worked against them.
Because nothing ever happened on guard duty, they only needed one cadet to watch the gates. They took their sword away and swapped it for a horn. If—on the rare occasion—they needed help, all the cadet had to do was blow it and wait.
The sound of several diseased’s screams snapped Spike from his thoughts, his heart racing. He listened to them on the other side of the gates, their awkward and uneven steps squelching in the wet ground. No doubt they were waiting until they opened in the morning.
Spike pressed his ear to the wooden barrier between them, the wind swaying the large gates and him by extension. It sounded like three or four of the vile things. Although he couldn’t see them, he might gain valuable insight from the sounds they made.
Then he heard something else. The steps of another, except they sounded different. This one moved more easily. It moved fast and with even steps. A muted thud. Then another, another, and one more. The steps vanished into the distance.
Other than the strong wind, it left silence outside. What the hell did he just hear?
Spike stepped away from the gate and shook his head. Without seeing what had happened, he couldn’t form any conclusions. Maybe he’d heard animals on the other side and his overactive imagination told him to expect more. Diseased didn’t kill other diseased. He might have had the day off, but with it being so late, his mind had obviously started to play tricks on him.
Not the worst shift, Spike had pulled midnight until two a.m. Next time he would have two a.m. until four a.m., then four till five thirty, followed by five thirty till seven, and then back to ten till twelve. The ones at the start of the evening were longer because you could still get a good night’s sleep when the shift wrapped up. Everyone hated four till five thirty—up super early and then back to the dorm to doze at best. It robbed them of their most valuable sleep.
Spike paced, walking up and down across the front of the gates. He looked at the tall wooden barriers and the wheels the guards turned. In his mind, he heard the chains running over the wood, the twenty-foot gates shaking before they parted, and he led a team of protectors out towards the ruined city. Soon he’d be the one clearing the way for the anxious rookies behind him. As much as he thought he’d wanted to be like Magma, now he’d seen him in action, he knew he’d enjoy it more than the surly man did. Sure, Magma fought like a hero, but Warrior … now Warrior fought like he’d been born to do it.
Although the rain had eased, the poor weather brought a cold snap with it. Spike hugged himself for warmth and quickened his pace, the ground squelching beneath his steps. A tight clench to his jaw sent pains streaking up either side of his face, but it helped counter the teeth-rattling shiver that threatened to take over.
While walking the twenty or so feet before turning and going back the other way, Spike counted. Two hours with not much to do felt like a lifetime. He lengthened his strides and crossed the gap with just eighteen steps. The least he’d managed to do it in. “Yes,” he said to himself, doing an impromptu jig before he spun around to walk the other way. But just as he set off again, he stopped. A silhouette stood in the darkness. It stared straight at him.
Chapter 15
Too dark to see who watched him, Spike held his distance.
The figure didn’t move either.
The tall gates threw the sound of his own voice back at him and highlighted the lifting pitch in his wavering words. “It’s not two already, is it?”
The silhouette remained static.
On instinct, Spike reached for the sword on his back. Except he had no sword. Of course he didn’t; they had to return their swords to their dorms at the end of every day. They weren’t to be carried in the national service area. Instead, he pulled on the horn around his neck. Not exactly a deadly weapon, but he might need to sound an alarm before using the narrow end to stick his attacker.
Before he’d thought it through, Spike stamped his foot in the mud. “Who goes there?” The silence seemed more complete than ever, and he winced at his own demand. It sounded cool in the swashbuckling stories the teachers told them at school, but it had no place in the real world. Next he’d be telling the sucker to freeze or reach for the sky.
The silhouette moved and Spike stepped back, his hands balled into fists. He went for his horn, but the silhouette moved forward again, the moonlight catching the silver clip in her hair. The next step revealed her face. “Tilly?”
She snorted a laugh. “Who goes there?”
The same tight clench to his jaw that kept his shivering at bay, Spike bit down as if it would help him hold onto his defensive response. It delayed it by milliseconds at best. “It sounded like the right thing to say.”
“Good job slaying the diseased doesn’t rely on you sounding cool, eh? You’d be shit out of luck.”
“All right, smart-ass.”
The gap between them now just a few feet, Spike lowered his voice. “What are you doing here? It’s late.”
“We have tomorrow off.”
“Yeah, well done on that. You deserve it.”
“As much as it pains me to say, Ranger deserved it the most, but he’s a liability.”
“Screw Ranger; he doesn’t deserve anything. Not with how he went for Hugh. I’m just grateful the dullard dropped the knife.” Spike continued to close the gap between him and Matilda until they were close enough for him to reach out and hold her hands. “I’m serious about you not sneaking up on me though.”
A wry smile, Matilda lifted her eyebrows. “What? You might attack me?”
“Something like that.”
“I’d kick your arse.”
The reaction rose and died in Spike. After a deep breath, he shrugged. “I’m so glad Hugh saw your sword was broken before you were attacked. Imagine—”
“I’d rather not.”
“Do you think someone did it on purpose?”
“I’m not sure thinking that way will get me anywhere. Unless I know someone did it for sure, I think it’s easier to assume it was an accident. They don’t exactly give us the best quality weapons.”
“You think they’d make more of an effort with them. It’s hard enough fighting outside those walls.” Just talking about it quickened his pulse. “If we do find out someone did it on purpose, I’ll kill ’em.”
It took for Matilda to let go of Spike’s hands for him to realise he’d gripped them too tightly.
“I’m sorry. I get a bit emotional thinking about it.”
“Just try to keep your head, okay?” This time Matilda grabbed Spike’s hands and rubbed her thumbs over the backs of them. While tracing a heart, she said, “Thank you for your concern, and thank you for holding your ground when the diseased attacked me.”
Although Spike opened his mouth to reply, she cut him off. “I know how hard it was for you to stand back and let me fight.” She moved towards him. “For you to respect my wishes to make sure you don’t kill yourself trying to save me. Artan needs one of us, so thank you. If we can both keep our heads,
we’ll have the future we’ve planned together.”
Had Spike been closer to her yesterday, he would have been at her side in a heartbeat, but she didn’t need to know that. Instead, he nodded, closing the much smaller gap between them, their lips touching.
When they pulled away, Spike stared into Matilda’s deep brown eyes. They were glazed with the start of tears. “Are you okay?”
Matilda shrugged. “I just want this over with. I miss Artan and want to see how he’s doing. I hate the work outside the walls. I’ll have hands like a rock troll for months after we’ve finished national service. Ranger’s also doing my head in. I could deal with him when he made a few basic misogynist comments to wind you up, but now he’s gone psycho. I don’t even want to be in the same area as him. He’s so volatile.”
Spike shuddered to think about the boy and how his second trip to the hole had changed him. The way he looked at everyone now like they were his enemy. The way he had looked at Matilda when she took her top off. Not that he’d share that with her. She’d be better off not knowing. But if he went anywhere near her, Spike would tie him to his bed and gouge his piggy little eyes out. “My hope is he gets himself either killed or kicked off national service.”
“Can you imagine having to spend five months living with him in the training area?”
The thought unsettled the rhythm of Spike’s breaths. “I don’t want to think about it.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“They did their first task yesterday.”
“In the trials?”
“Yep.”
Matilda looked in the direction of the wall separating them from the area they held the trials in. “We’ll get through this, you know? And you’ll smash it when you get there.”
Beyond These Walls (Book 2): National Service Page 7