The Deadly Nightshade

by Justine Ashford

  “Come on, we’ve got to hurry,” says Nate, his voice saturated with urgency. “We have to go now.”

  “Go where?” I demand.

  “We’re getting you both out of here, but Nate’s right, we need to hurry,” says Sheppard, handing us our weapons. The preacher smiles at me, his hazel eyes tearing, and places a quick kiss on the top of my head.

  I turn to Connor, who gives me a small shrug, and warily place my weapons back where they belong. The feeling of my katanas against my back again soothes me immediately. Oh, how I’ve missed them.

  Nate taps his foot impatiently, gesturing for us to move it along. He ushers us out through the steel door, where I discover that the guards have disappeared from their post. As the lieutenant swiftly leads us through the halls in a direction I have never gone before, I can’t help but wonder just what the hell is going on. If Sheppard wasn’t here, I wouldn’t trust Nate in the slightest, but the preacher’s presence reassures me that this isn’t a trap and we aren’t being led to an early death.

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask the lieutenant. “Won’t you get in trouble with Reina?”

  “Sh! Keep your voice down,” he warns. “I’m doing it because of what I told you before, and because it’s the right thing to do. Besides,” he adds, “it was Reina who gave the order.”

  “Reina?” whispers Connor from behind me.

  “If you can believe it, yes,” says Sheppard. “After you were locked up and the meeting ended, she called for us and told us what the deal was. See, with everybody going crazy like that she was afraid the townspeople would riot and, well, all Hell would break loose, so she had to do something to reaffirm her authority and calm everyone down. See, they weren’t thinking sensibly, and nothing any of us said was going to change their minds. She had you taken to appease them and buy some time to plan a defense—she knows that gang is going to try to take Sweetbriar whether we hand you over or not. She ordered a mandatory curfew for the townspeople and told us to set you free as soon as night fell so no one would see you go.”

  “But what happens when they expect Reina to give us up and we’re not there?” I ask.

  Nate and Sheppard exchange a glance. “I have no idea,” says Nate. “To be honest, I don’t know if she does either.”

  It occurs to me then that Reina is taking this one step at a time, just like me, trying to figure out the solution that will result in the least blood spill for her people. But she is a smart woman; I’m sure she will think of something. It’s not my problem anymore.

  The two men usher us through a back exit and out into a moonlit courtyard, where a sentry ladder stands against the tall stone wall that borders the forest. Nate instructs us to climb to the top and use the vines on the opposite side to make our way down, but to go carefully to avoid slipping and crashing to the ground. I thank my friends for their help and the three of us exchange words of luck, saying our final goodbyes for the second time that day, though these are far more rushed. Connor stands a few feet away, his eyes lowered to the ground and his arms folded across his chest. After Sheppard gives me a quick hug, I turn to my friend and gesture for us to begin our ascent.

  “I’m not going,” Connor says.

  I stare at him for a moment, unable to comprehend his words. “What do you mean you’re not going?”

  “I can’t just leave these people, Nightshade. You know what’s going to happen to them if we leave.”

  “It’ll happen regardless of whether we’re here or not,” I whisper. “Reina knows what she’s doing, Connor. She’ll find a way out of this.” I place a hand on one of the rungs of the ladder and stare at him expectantly, but he shakes his head.

  “They’re going to be massacred tomorrow because of us. Can you seriously live with that kind of blood on your hands?”

  “I do what I have to in order to survive,” I murmur, feeling that unnatural weight returning to my stomach again.

  “So do I,” he says. “Which is why I have to help. I can’t live knowing I just stood back and let Roman’s gang kill an entire community because of me, because of what I did.”

  He takes a few steps back from the ladder to join Nate and Sheppard, but his eyes remain on me all the while. They burn into me, those blue eyes, full of the same raging fire as the day I met him. He’s right—many of these people will die tomorrow, maybe all of them, and we will be to blame. It was the two of us who led Roman’s gang here. We are responsible. But I made a promise years ago, a promise I intend to keep.

  I turn away from the three men and slowly begin to make my way up the ladder. Connor doesn’t try to change my mind; he knows I’m only doing what I must. I climb until I reach the top of the stone wall and pull myself up onto the ledge. As I look at the dark forest that stretches before me, beckoning me to come home, I think of the sweet liberty I am about to experience—a liberty I have been deprived of for months. But when I shift to begin my descent, it is as if an invisible barrier holds me there, and no matter how hard I try I cannot move. I sit there, straddling the wall, half free and half not, trying desperately to find the strength to scale down and escape into the woods where I belong, but I am powerless.

  Here I stand at the crossroads, weighed down to the point of immobility with this newfound emotion called guilt. Either way I go, I am turning my back on somebody. I remember the vow I made my father on his dying day, the vow to stay alive no matter what the cost, to be the survivor he made me into. That man gave his life to save mine, to give me the opportunity to grow old in a world where most die young. I can see him now, the dark blood flowing from his neck, his crimson-stained beard, his hazel eyes with the light slowly fading from them. To change my mind and climb back down this ladder would be the ultimate betrayal. If I go back, if I help these people, if I die for them, then my father’s death will have been for nothing.

  But why would I help these people? Ever since Connor and I came to Sweetbriar we have been mistrusted, ostracized, threatened, and betrayed. From the moment we arrived we were treated like outsiders, and it was only after I saved a group of their people that they began to consider us Sweetbriarans too. Only then did they idolize us, love us, but as soon as their lives were threatened they were back to their old ways. Hell, some of them probably would have killed us themselves to save Roman the trouble. These people turned their backs on me.

  So why do I still care?

  I shouldn’t care. I should scale down this wall without a second thought right now and be done with all of them. But I know they’re only acting out of fear. They don’t understand how the world works outside of these walls, they don’t understand that Roman and his gang will not stay true to their word, that they will storm the gate of Sweetbriar despite his feigned lack of interest. They don’t understand that these people will do whatever it takes to secure their own safety, even if it means wiping out another group in the process. They don’t understand that that is what gangs do: take what isn’t theirs and destroy whoever stands in their way. They assume this man must have a good reason for wanting to hurt us, and they would gladly sacrifice us for the greater good of their people. It seems like a simple solution, but they have no idea how wrong they are. And at daybreak they will know the truth.

  I think of Elijah Sheppard, who cared about me from the beginning, who befriended me of his own accord, who refused to be a part of my capture. I think of Nate, of how he outright disobeyed his beloved leader to defend me and allowed himself to be physically reprimanded and nearly killed for his actions. I think of Savannah, who nearly cried when I told her I was leaving because she was afraid of what would happen to me. I think of the children at the schoolhouse, whose little voices always greeted me joyfully when I came to visit. I think of Claire and Sophia, who defended me against the harsh accusations of the townspeople when everyone thought I was a menace. I think of Mrs. Sharma, whose scarf I still wear around my neck. And finally I think of Reina, who would do anything to protect her town and her people, even lie to them. These are
good-hearted people, and they don’t deserve to die tomorrow.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper into the gentle night wind, hoping he will hear me somehow. “I’m so sorry.” With that, I make my descent down the wall. When I step back down from the ladder, I turn to face the three men, whose surprised expressions are illuminated by the moonlight.

  “Alright,” I say. “I’m in.”

  Chapter 46

  Connor and I follow Nate and Sheppard back into the building. They guide us back through the obscure hallway, up the stairs, and into the main room where a large group of Sweetbriarans have gathered. Reina spots us as we enter, and her eyes widen in alarm as they lock onto Connor and me. The townspeople, noticing their leader’s sudden distraction, turn to see what has caught her attention and, upon seeing us, begin to panic.

  “What are they doing here?” Reina shouts over the commotion.

  “They wouldn’t leave,” explains Nate. “They want to help.”

  Upon hearing these words, the distressed expression on Reina’s face fades and her lips curl upward at the ends in the subtlest of smiles. Her eyes meet mine and she gives me a nod, which I return. Then she turns to the Sweetbriarans, who demand to know why Connor and I are running loose and what Nate meant when he said we “wouldn’t leave.” Placing a manicured finger to her red lips, she silences them.

  “Listen to me,” she says. “I know this is a shock to you, and I know you feel like I have lied to you—well, because I did, I did lie to you. But I did what I had to do. The fact of the matter is that this man and his gang are not going to leave Sweetbriar in peace, despite what he claims. They have found our home and even if they were to leave, we cannot risk the possibility of them ever coming back when we are not expecting them. That is why I have gathered you all here—you are the only people in the entire town who have experience with guns, which means you are our only line of defense against these savages. Now there are only nineteen of us, including Nightshade and Connor—who have agreed to help us fight—which means we are outnumbered. But we know this town, and we have the gate and walls dividing us, which gives us an upper hand.

  “They may have the numbers, but we have the passion. This is our home, and we have to show these people that Sweetbriar is not for the taking. We are fighting not just for our lives, but for the lives of every man, woman, and child in this community. Now, there is no doubt that there will be casualties—”

  The townspeople begin to panic again, murmuring to each other in anxious tones and looking around and wondering who won’t live to see tomorrow night. It’s a funny thing, how the idea of death changes people, changes their perspective on life. It’s possible many of these people will be dead by morning, maybe even all of them. Hell, it’s possible I will be dead by morning, and so will Connor. No, not possible—probable.

  “Listen!” she shouts over them. “I know you are scared, but this is how it has to be. We have no other choice! I mean, what else can we do but fight back?”

  “Why don’t we just evacuate?” suggests one woman. “There has to be another way out of here besides the gate. If we all leave Sweetbriar then nobody has to die.”

  “Leave Sweetbriar?” Reina snaps. “No one is going to leave Sweetbriar, Autumn. I spent over a year of my life looking for this place, and even longer building it into what it is now. I am not going to just abandon it, not after all I have gone through, not after all our people have gone through. Besides, what will we do if we leave, huh? Do you think places like these are easy to find, easy to create? Why do you think those people want it so badly? We would be lucky if we found another Sweetbriar in our lifetime! And during that time how many of our people do you think will die? It has been years since anyone here has lived outside of these walls. Half of us would not make it through the spring, and forget about the winter months. No, leaving Sweetbriar is completely out of the question. I would rather die here, protecting my home, than live outside of it. This place has kept us safe and allowed us to live peacefully for years, and now it is our responsibility to defend it in return.”

  The Sweetbriarans mutter amongst themselves for a while, trying to decide if this really is the best course of action. After a minute of discussion, they appear to come to a general consensus that their leader is right and they must fight to protect their camp from Roman’s gang. Leave it to Reina to rally a hot-headed, fearful group of civilians into an army.

  “But what about the kids?” calls out a familiar voice. I notice Sophia standing in the back beside Claire, her eyebrows stitched together with threads of worry. “We need to keep them someplace safe, someplace far from the fighting.”

  “And the old people,” adds Claire. “They’re just as vulnerable.”

  “You are right, both of you. We have a lot of defenseless people here in Sweetbriar who have no experience with weapons of any kind. My plan is to gather all of the children, the elderly, and anyone else who is not willing or able to fight and stow them away in the bomb shelter in the basement of this building. It is big enough to fit everyone, so we can be assured our people will be safe as long as we manage to do our jobs and stop Roman’s group.

  “I want each and every one of you to go to every house two hours before daybreak, collect their inhabitants, and bring them here. Ask those who are able if they will fight with us, and if they say yes give them a quick tutorial on how to fire a gun. If they ask what is going on, tell them we have evidence that the gang outside is absolutely going to attack by morning. If they question you or disobey, send them straight to me and I will handle them.

  “Now of course I will try to talk to this group’s leader before anything happens and warn him that we are ready and able to fight back. He thinks we are a passive people, and he believes we are going to turn Nightshade and Connor over to him in the morning, so he will be unprepared for this news. Maybe—if we are lucky—he will see our people armed and prepared for a war and he will be dissuaded from pursuing his plan of attack. That would still leave us with the problem of them returning, of course, but that is a matter that does not need to be immediately addressed.”

  Although a few of the Sweetbriarans begin to nod their heads in agreement and exchange hopeful glances, I know there is no chance Roman will just scurry back into the woods at the sight of a few armed gunmen. This man is relentless—his obsession with finding Connor and me has proven that—and if he wants something then he will do everything in his power to take it, including mine and Connor’s lives.

  But everyone seems set on the plan. They break into excited chatter, forming small groups to discuss what morning could possibly bring. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a crowd of people more nervous for the sunrise in my entire life.

  Reina’s eyes meet mine, seeming to beckon me over to her. Following her lead, I meet her at the staircase. She takes two steps up and stares down at the group below, her thick lips set in a firm line and her hard face devoid of all emotion.

  “I am glad you decided to stay,” she whispers.

  “Me too,” I say. “Me too.”

  “If I may ask: why did you?”

  I hesitate for a moment, asking myself the same question. “Because I care about this place and these people more than I probably should. I couldn’t just leave, not with a clear conscience.”

  The straight line her lips have formed bends upward at the edges. “I hoped you would.”

  With that, she steps down from the staircase and walks over to join Nate. The two of them exchange a few hushed words and unite in a tight embrace, not a trace of the hostility between them from earlier to be found. This may well be the last hug they ever share.

  Feeling a gentle hand on my shoulder, I turn to find that Connor has snuck up on me. He smiles wryly and wraps an arm around my neck, pulling me close.

  “I’m glad you came back,” he says. “Once you got to the top of that wall, I thought you were gone for good. I thought, that’s it, you know, I’ll never see that girl again. But when I saw you looking back at us, we
ll, I knew you weren’t going anywhere.”

  “You were right,” I admit. “This is our fight, and we brought it to these people. The least we can do is stand beside them.”

  “You know, I had my doubts about you at first, but you really are a good person, Nightshade. You really are.”

  I smile, but there is no emotion in it. His words linger in my mind. You really are a good person, Nightshade. No, a good person wouldn’t have climbed even halfway up that wall. A good person wouldn’t have even considered abandoning Sweetbriar and leaving these people to clean up the mess she made. A good person wouldn’t be as self-centered, or as hard-hearted, or as devoid of empathy as I am. Connor is a good person, not me.

  But I did come back, and that has to count for something. I’ve never thought of myself as a bad person, not really, but I’ve always known I wasn’t a good one. But maybe I don’t have to be. Maybe I was only ever meant to be an average person with selfish tendencies and the decency to do unselfish things under the right circumstances. Maybe I was meant to be human.

  Chapter 47

  The nineteen of us talk amongst each other for a few minutes, preparing ourselves for the storm ahead, before Sheppard makes an announcement. He declares that he would like to pray for our safety in the coming hours, as well as our victory over Roman’s gang, and asks that we all join hands. Per his instructions, we form a large ring and extend our hands to the people on either side of us, which for me are Connor and Reina. I take the leader’s delicate, slender hand and Connor’s large, soft hand in my own rough, callused ones. Sheppard stands almost directly across from me, his head raised to the ceiling and his eyes tightly shut.

  “Please, Lord,” he says, his deep booming voice reverberating around the room. “Protect these people from the approaching danger. Keep them safe under your watchful eye and let no harm come to them. Let us be victorious over these depraved miscreants who threaten our peaceful civilization with violence. And if lives must be lost, take those souls into your care and deliver them to eternal happiness, where they may be reunited with their friends and family who were taken before them. Blessed be those who stand and fight with us today, and may those who stand against us be defeated.”