Concurrence

by KM Fortune

  “Howie!” Kit heard the cowboy exclaim. “Looking good in here.”

  Howie grinned and nodded with pleasure at the praise. "A little touch-up, sir. Last night was rough," he said.

  “That it was,” The Duke agreed. “But I have a feeling tonight will be even better. Let me introduce you to some new guests.”

  The cat mutant, Sergeant Gray, stood before Hector. The news he delivered had been grim, and Hector set his jaw and stared at the floor. He felt Helen's gentle paw touch his arm and he took some comfort from it. At least she was safe at the moment. I’d go crazy if I did not know where she was right now, he thought. Things were dire in the kingdom and, even though she was still officially the queen even after the king's death, Hector had no doubt his evil brother would come after her. Prince Edward was on a mission to be king, and he did not appear to be letting anyone stand in his way. Already he had moved to round up people who even hinted at supporting Hector's claim to the throne. Even though Hector was the older of the brothers, and therefore the rightful heir by lineage, Hector knew his prolonged absence was working against him. Finally, Hector nodded and looked at the sergeant. "So what are our numbers?" he asked.

  Sergeant Gray shook his head. "Not good," he responded. "The prince moved quicker than we anticipated. Almost all of the guards who supported you are now locked in the dungeon. Without them, you have less than a dozen who will stand with you in a revolt. Maybe fewer considering how futile things look.” Hector growled deep in his throat and paced across the cavern where he and Helen had been hidden. He was so frustrated. While he waited, his brother was taking action. It was all Hector could do to not charge forward with the few allies he had and try to make a play. As if sensing his recklessness growing, Helen interjected.

  "And the citizens of the city? What is their sentiment?" she asked. Hector paused his steps. It was a good question. If the general masses were set against him, there was no point in trying to be king at all.

  "Primarily, there is concern and unrest," Sergeant Gray answered. "No clear favorite is being announced publically, but there could be reasons for that."

  "Like what?" Hector asked.

  "Fear of the prince's retaliation," Helen answered before the sergeant could speak up. "Any city leader would be risking his livelihood in the least, but possibly even the safety of his family if he declared allegiance to anyone but Prince Edward."

  Sergeant Gray nodded in agreement. "I think the wisest of them are simply waiting to see what happens. Having you back, Your Grace, has given hope to many of us who feared Prince Edward's tyranny." Hector frowned. None of the information helped him make up his mind on what to do next. As much as he hated it, he knew he would have to rely entirely on the advice of others.

  "What do you recommend I do now?" Hector asked.

  Sergeant Gray looked thoughtful. "We need a force to free the guards locked in the dungeon. You came here with humans. If they have numbers, can they aid us?" Hector thought about what the cat mutant said. He did know humans, although he was not sure they would come to his aid. Their relationship was rocky at best, and he had no easy way of getting them a message. He knew he would have to leave the city and find them. Find Raven, he thought. Will she help me? Hector could not be certain, but in his heart he knew she was his and quite possibly his city's one hope.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Whoa,” Raven heard one of the twins say behind her as they all looked around the large fighting venue. “This place is something else.”

  “They don’t know what they are missing back home,” said the other twin, with a laugh. “Can we look around?” Raven turned to The Duke, who was smiling broadly.

  “Absolutely,” he said. “Just don’t leave the room, got it?” The twins nodded excitedly and moved toward the cage. I have no idea where those two came from, Raven thought, but she had to admit their playful, although a bit naive, attitude toward things helped break the tension. And there is a lot of tension. Raven looked at Blaze. He was frowning as his eyes darted around the room. Raven did not blame him. Things in the city of Reno did not feel quite right, but the best all of them could do was roll with it until they could find a way to work with The Duke. She could only hope Blaze understood it too.

  Looking back to the elevated cage in the center of the room, Raven did not know what to make of it. She knew almost nothing about fighting competitions. Her vague memory pulled up hazing images of celebrity figures who became famous by using their fists, but she knew it was not something she had been interested in during her previous life. Regardless, The Duke's excitement over what he called "Fight Night" was a bit contagious. She watched as the charismatic figure walked through the gate into the ring, a grin of pride on his handsome face. After a slap on Howie the janitor's back, which was hard enough to almost send the skinny man sprawling, he took off his hat and waved it around to showcase the space. "This is the place where men, and occasionally women, come to change their fortunes. And in the process, provide my city a source of endless entertainment," he said. "Come in, Raven. Take a look around."

  Uncertain as to precisely what to do, Raven looked first to Blaze, who was clearly unhappy with the idea and then at Matthew, who nodded slightly for her to go ahead. Raven gave him a small smile and then walked to the ring. "I'll admit," she said to The Duke as she climbed the few steps to the platform the cage sat on. "I know nothing about this sport."

  The Duke held out his hand to help Raven clear the threshold. Returning the courteous gesture, she took it. With her hand in his, The Duke's eyes twinkled with satisfaction. After she was safely inside the ring, he held on a moment longer than necessary. Even though the man's hand was warm and strong, the possessive feel Raven felt from it alarmed her. The absolute last thing she wanted was to have to deal with was rejecting any advances by The Duke. Still, she knew better than to make anything of it at the moment and smiled sweetly at her host. "This is interesting," she said. "Like boxing?"

  The Duke laughed. “Oh, much more than boxing,” he said with a grin. “This is full contact fighting.”

  “So anything’s allowed?” one of the twins standing at the edge of the cage asked.

  “Even weapons?” said the other. I really need to learn their names, Raven thought, still unable to tell the two blonde men apart.

  The Duke shook his head. “Nope, no weapons. And no shots to the genitals,” he said. “But otherwise, it is game on.” He moved closer to Raven and put his arm around her shoulders. “You’ll see more of what I mean tonight.”

  It took all of Raven's willpower to not react to The Duke's touch and instinctively shrug off his arm. His move was gentle, yet clearly testing her. Still smiling, Raven stepped out from under his casual embrace and made a show of wanting to examine the emblem painted on the center of the ring. It was a wolf's head with gleaming eyes and bared teeth. "What does this mean?" she asked.

  “A warrior spirit,” The Duke answered with pride in his voice. Raven nodded, suddenly reminded of another wolf. One which hid in sheep’s clothing.

  When The Duke put his arm around Raven, Blaze clamped his hands into fists and started to move toward the ring. Enough of this crap, he thought, but before he could take a step, he felt Matthew's hand on his arm. Turning to look at the man, Matthew gave him a subtle shake of his head. Blaze puffed out a frustrated breath. The last thing he was in the mood for was taking direction from an ex-member of The Patrols, yet he knew the man was right. Running down to the cage and getting into a fight with The Duke would not make things better. Still, he was not going to just stand by either.

  Shrugging off Matthew’s hand, he started toward the cage, while at the same time scanning the room for other threats. It appeared, other than the janitor, there were no more of The Duke’s men. The driver of their second golf cart had stayed outside. It seemed unlikely The Duke would allow himself to be unprotected though. Is he that confident we are not here to hurt him? Blaze wondered. It was true, Blaze and the others were unarmed while The Duke
wore a gun on his hip, but still, they outnumbered the man. Blaze was not sure what to make of it.

  As if The Duke was reading his mind, Blaze saw The Duke staring at him as he approached the cage. The charming smile he had been giving to Raven was now nowhere to be seen. Instead, his eyes were cold and threatening. “So, what do you think, Red?” The Duke asked. “Ready to watch some action tonight?” Before Blaze could respond, he felt Matthew beside him.

  “Where do you find fighters?” Matthew asked. Blaze saw The Duke flick his eyes to Matthew. There was no warmth there either. He hates us both, Blaze thought. Because he knows we will die to protect Raven. Suddenly, the situation became apparent to Blaze, and he felt a ball of both rage and fear starting to build in his stomach. And he wants her for himself.

  Kit could not make up her mind. Reveal herself or stay hidden a little longer. There seemed no reason to keep hiding now that her friends were here and were in no immediate danger, but still, it went against her nature. Deciding to keep to the shadows a little longer, especially considering the awkward friendliness of the guy in the cowboy hat toward Raven, Kit moved subtly to scan the room. As she did so, a hint of movement near the back caught her eye. Someone was there. In fact, it looked like more than one person. Now on alert, Kit held her weapons close and made ready for action in case she thought Raven or any of the others were in danger.

  Shifting her eyes to take a quick look back at the center of the room, she saw Blaze, followed by Matthew, were moving into the ring. The sight did not feel right, yet Kit could not put her finger on why she was so alarmed. Is this some kind of trap? she wondered. Just then, Kit noticed one of the blonde twins was bumbling in the direction of the people hiding in the shadows. He was headed straight toward where Kit knew they were waiting. Now she was torn. Apparently, the blonde men were allies of her friends and so should be protected. Yet, if Kit made a move to stop him before he ran into trouble, she would reveal her position and give up any element of surprise.

  Before she could make up her mind, it was made for her when the second blonde man called out to the first. “Brody, come look at this,” he said, standing in front of a wall of framed posters. “All the big time champions.” Brody turned to look. Kit saw the figure in the shadows sneak forward and raise what looked like a club.

  “Like pictures?” Brody asked, clearly not seeing the danger. Kit knew it was act now or never and she leaped onto the top of the row of chairs in front of her. With a quick twist of her wrist, she sent one of her small but lethal throwing stars in the direction of the shadow.

  "Kit!" she heard Raven yell. "No!" It was too late for Kit to stop. The star flew true and would have struck the person with the club if not for Raven's shout. Turning, the stranger caught the star with a thunk in the wood of his club.

  “What in the hell is going on?” the man in the cowboy hat roared. “For the love of Pete, Andy is that you back there? Are you nuts? And what in the world is the thing in the cloak?”

  “That’s Kit. She’s with us,” Raven murmured.

  “Well, I’ll be,” said the cowboy with a broad grin. “Get her up here. I need to see this. That was some kind of throw.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Still hidden in among the rocks and sheltered from the elements by an overhanging ledge, Willow roasted a grouse on a stick over her small fire. It was even tinier than normal, but she had not wanted to roam more than a few feet from her then unconscious captive. The bird would serve well enough. Food was food. As she pulled it off, she looked over at the man on the ground across the fire from her. He was awake now and had propped himself up against a rock. His hands were tied in front of him, and she had also secured his feet, yet one look at his hostile face let Willow know he would try to escape at any moment. She sighed. It was just her luck to capture an especially stubborn member of the Patrols. Probably because he’s more experienced than a lot of the others, she thought, taking in his weathered features and gray hair. She guessed he was some kind of leader of The Patrols, although when she asked him earlier, he refused to speak. Getting information out of him was not going to be easy.

  Regardless, Willow held out half of the cooked bird to him. Even though she hated him to his core for everything he represented and looked forward to killing him in the end, she needed to keep up his strength. "Take this," she instructed. The soldier continued to glare at her. "Do it," she said with more force. After a moment, the man held out his bound hands and took the food. While Willow watched, he dropped it in the dirty snow and spat on it. Irritated now, Willow started to stand up and considered kicking him in the ribs a few times for his ingratitude. He watched her, and a smirk played across his lips. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her lose her temper, Willow settled back down. She shook her head and went back to staring at the fire. "Why do you men from the Great Cave hate us so much?" she said more to herself than the soldier. "What did we ever do to you?"

  Surprising her, her captive answered. “Because you are heathen. Unwashed, unannointed waste people,” he snarled. “Not worthy to walk the Earth.” Is he serious? Willow thought. His disgust was apparent with every word.

  “What are you even talking about?” she asked turning to look at him. “I don’t even know what those words mean.”

  “Of course you don’t,” he said. “You are stupid. Worthless.” Willow had heard enough. This time she did stand up, ready to kick him in the mouth. The soldier laughed at her.

  “Go ahead,” he mocked. “I’ve already learned your only answer is violence. Although I will say, you’re braver than the rest of your kind. I’m more used to seeing waste people scurry away like vermin.”

  Willow narrowed her eyes. “You have no idea,” she said softly.

  Looking through the one-way window, Samuel watched the strange little girl from the wastelands and her disgusting nomad companion. They were playing some sort of game stacking small sticks, and from the smile on the child's face, she was winning. Samuel hated all of it. Hannah, as The Creator insisted she be called, was too comfortable, too happy. It’s because The Creator has started to favor her, Samuel thought with a frown. He does not see the girl is just another devil’s spawn. A female, even if a young one.

  When Samuel first heard the news a little girl was captured, he was surprised. So few naturally born children existed. A vaccine against the plague which made women sterile had not yet been found. Matthew, the foremost scientist in the colony who dedicated his life to discovering a cure, was now gone. Samuel had no idea if the man even still lived, but in his heart, he hoped not. Matthew was a traitor to his brethren in Eden, and if Samuel had his way, Matthew would have died a horribly painful death. Regardless, the news a child was found, especially a female, was a miracle. Even Samuel could admit it. What he did not understand was why the leaders in the colony were so excited about it. Undoubtedly it could be surmised, because the little girl's mother was apparently not infected, the child would not be either. Her blood, her DNA, and her reproductive system could all be studied by the few scientists who still struggled to pick up where Matthew left off. But then what? Samuel wondered. The colony was stable and even though through the decades the clone population had shown more and more flaws in design, Samuel was confident Eden would continue to dominate forever. In his mind, there was no reason to find a cure.

  The sound of laughter pulled Samuel out of his thinking, and he refocused on Hannah and her companion. The pile of sticks had collapsed, and Hannah clapped her hands happily. Enough of this, he thought. Nothing would give him more satisfaction than to terminate the girl once and for all. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he thought about it, but knew it was nothing but wishful thinking. Somehow, the girl had worked her way into The Creator’s favor. It has to be some sort of witchcraft, he thought and then remembered the rumor of some prophecy which was whispered among the soldiers. A dark-haired witch had escaped from Eden, cast evil spells on anyone who hunted her, and would eventually be Eden’s downfall. Samuel ha
d discounted it and even reprimanded any brother who he heard speak it. But what if there is something to it after all? He knew the girl was somehow connected to the female who escaped. What if the child was planted with the intention of confusing The Creator? Samuel narrowed his eyes. It seemed impossible, but it was time to make sure. Even if he could not destroy the girl outright, he could find ways to hurt her otherwise. Watching Hannah and her friend, Samuel suddenly knew what to do next.

  Matthew was as surprised as anyone to see the small woman in the dark cloak appear from the row of chairs and go on the attack. At first, he did not recognize her, even when Raven said who she was and claimed she was with them. Then he vaguely recalled Raven's group had included a young, silent warrior who stayed to herself. He spent only a day with her before the girl went in pursuit of the kidnapped Raven. Now he realized he owed Kit a debt of gratitude. She not only found Raven but kept her safe, Matthew thought, knowing it could not have been an easy task. Yet, seeing her now, Matthew had a better understanding as to why she was successful. Even though she was tiny, she was mighty, fierce, and with a knife in each hand, ready to keep fighting.