Book Read Free

The Ruins Book 4

Page 11

by T. W. Piperbrook


  Bray explained his reasoning. "Aside from the assurances the Yatari gave me, I've fought plenty of battles in similar terrain. If we are lucky, the demons will come from one direction. Most will stick to the clear path to reach us. If we keep the demons on one side of us, the high ground on either side might help us. We can topple them, so they cannot surround us. It is not a guarantee of success, but it is better than running into the wild blindly. And it is certainly more than we had yesterday, when we knew nothing outside of the walls and the crop fields."

  Kirby nodded. She knew nothing was certain, but the information was definitely useful. "Do you trust the Yatari?"

  Bray nodded. "They seemed sincere. I think they feel for us. Not enough to help us, but I believe what they told me. And I told them nothing incriminating."

  "It was a clever move," Kirby said. A wave of nostalgia swept over her as she thought of the boats in New Hope. As broken down and unusable as they were, she doubted she'd ever see them again. "Did you tell them the truth about the boats' location?"

  "I told them the boats are far. I am uncertain whether they will go, but I did not lie," Bray said.

  "Those boats will do nothing for anyone," Kirby said, falling silent for a moment as she reflected.

  "Exactly what I thought," Bray said. "But it was enough to get the information I needed."

  Patting the ground around her, she searched with her hands through some of the rubble. Finding a round, smooth stone the size of half her palm, she held it up to the moonlight.

  "What are you doing?" Bray asked.

  "Finding something to use to sharpen my piece of metal," she said. "Later—perhaps while Esmeralda sleeps—I'll fashion it into a weapon I can use."

  High spirits overtook Kirby. She had survived another day, spirited away a weapon, and had plans to get more. And Bray's information brought them closer to a plan.

  "Between what you've found out, and my getting some metal, our plan might be closer to fruition than we think," Kirby said optimistically.

  "Perhaps we should talk with The Shadow People," Bray said.

  "I will see if I can catch Drew's ear tomorrow."

  Chapter 34: Bray

  When Bray returned home, Teddy knelt by the fire, cleaning some of their dented pots and pans. The house was otherwise empty. As usual, no one else had wandered in to mingle, as Bray often saw at other dwellings. In Bray's time here, he had only seen the guard who brought him here and the guards who passed out rations near the door. Teddy was careful, as always.

  "How was your walk?" Teddy asked.

  "As pleasant as it gets, after a full day of standing," Bray said, stretching his sore back.

  "Sometimes the hottest days make for pleasant nights," Teddy said, sounding as if he'd used the line before. Or maybe it was what he'd told himself, in those days before his isolation. He scraped a stubborn food stain away from a pot.

  A few conversations drifted over from the courtyard, where several large groups of people hovered around the bonfires. None of the backlit faces looked in their direction.

  "They are talking about our lowered rations," Teddy said, shaking his head. "The guards will be cutting down our portions in anticipation of the slow growing season."

  Bray shook his head. "Dirty pig chasers. How did you hear?"

  "Aside from those people? Some guards talked about it outside the sewing rooms. It happens most years, though it doesn't make it any easier," Teddy said. "Those with children have it the worst. They have to stretch their rations further. The guards compensate for the extra mouths, but never enough."

  Bray nodded, looking up at the shimmering tower. Not for the first time, he wondered about William's treatment. Was he receiving plentiful meals like when they first arrived, or were his portions reduced to scraps?

  Standing near the door, Bray kicked off his boots, emptied some of the day's dirt, and carried them back to his bedroll. He'd air them a while before putting them back on to sleep.

  "You rarely go without them," Teddy noticed.

  "Old habits from the wild," Bray said. "I'm always ready to move."

  Finished with his cleaning, Teddy sat on the bedroll across from Bray, watching the clusters of people disperse from the bonfires. Quiet conversations grew louder as people finished up their talks, or said their goodbyes. Teddy looked as if he had something else to say.

  Surprise hit Bray as Teddy leaned over and whispered, "I wouldn't meet in the flooded house anymore."

  Bray's blood froze.

  He looked outside, as if he'd stepped into some trap.

  "What did you say?" Bray asked, as if he might've misheard.

  Teddy kept on as if he hadn't been questioned. "Too many people have used that place in the past. It is not safe. Do not meet there again."

  A few women cackled as they let out a laugh they only dared at night.

  Bray watched Teddy suspiciously. Was Teddy giving another friendly warning, or did he want something?

  Perhaps Teddy meant to gain the meager share of Bray's rations, his clothing, or some other benefit he couldn't see. Bray had seen similar situations. Eventually, the secret would get out, no matter how many promises were made.

  His mistake could cost his life.

  Sticking with his denial, Bray said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "I mentioned before that it was dangerous to have those you cared about in the city," Teddy said. "And I meant it. Having friends here is a burden."

  Bray clenched his fists, ready to spring from his bedroll and silence Teddy, if it came to that. He was preparing an accusation when Teddy spoke again.

  "I am one of The Shadow People."

  Bray watched him suspiciously.

  "Drew told me you are trustworthy," Teddy said, with a firm nod. "I needed to wait to be sure. I have been watching you, and reporting back to him. As you probably know, we have people everywhere."

  "Who's Drew?" Bray asked, not ready to give up on the idea that he might be ambushed.

  "You met him in Ashville, along with Clara, Giovanni, and James. They vouched for you. And for Kirby, too. You do not have to worry. All of this information is safe." Teddy nodded assuredly.

  Some of the tension left Bray's body as they watched loud people walking past the doorway, too engaged in their conversations to hear.

  "Drew came to me when you first arrived. He told me about Kirby." Teddy glanced discreetly over his shoulder. "He told me he needed to know more about you before we spoke further. Only when it was safe did he approach her and set up the meeting in Ashville. But of course, you know all that."

  Bray nodded as the information lined up.

  A strange feeling overtook him as he watched his roommate—his new confidant. "You want escape, too."

  Teddy nodded. "No one suspects me, because I rarely leave. They think the death of my family broke me. They are right. But it will not stop me from escape, or from helping others. When the time comes, Bray, I am ready to fight alongside you."

  Chapter 35: Kirby

  Morning sunlight cast a bright hue over the alley outside of Kirby's house, where people emerged. Throngs of people filled the alleys as people finished their morning rituals, preparing to head to the courtyard for the count before the fields, or their duties elsewhere in the city. A few children hugged their parents, sending them off to jobs that would leave them beaten down and tired by the time they returned.

  Taking a dirty bowl from Esmeralda, Kirby scrubbed away the remnants of another meager meal.

  "Thank you for your help with the dishes," Esmeralda said.

  "It is no problem."

  Kirby's eyes burned from another night with little sleep. This time, it wasn't due to the pain of her joints, or the nightmares that always seemed to plague her, or even because of Fiona; it was because in the night's darkest hours, while Esmeralda slept, Kirby had quietly scraped away at the metal she kept hidden underneath her bedroll. Over the course of a night, she had turned a piece of metal into a weapo
n. She felt the sharp tip of it in her boot, pushing against her ankle, in a place where she could reach it. From now on, she wouldn't be without it.

  Finished cleaning the dishes, Kirby said, "I am going to head out."

  Esmeralda seemed disappointed as she played with Fiona.

  "I want to make sure I'm not late to my shift," Kirby said.

  "Of course," Esmeralda said, with a smile. "I will see you at lunch."

  Kirby entered the mass of moving workers, all heading in different directions. She veered toward the shops, taking a diagonal path as she looked through the flurry of faces. A few guards emerged from behind their closed doors, smearing the sleep from their eyes, or popping last bites of food in their mouths. Each of those guards reminded her of Ollie, who probably kissed his wife with his foul lips as he set off for the courtyard, like his comrades. She avoided a path that might intersect with his.

  Rounding a corner several alleys from the shops, she spotted a familiar, gaunt figure walking through the streets. Catching up to him, Kirby didn't look over as she initiated conversation.

  "We have some information to share," she told Drew, keeping her eyes forward.

  Drew nodded. "Would you like to meet tonight?"

  "Yes."

  With a furtive nod, Drew said, "We will see you then."

  Chapter 36: Bray

  Guards walked in a menacing group across the courtyard, heading for the long building.

  The people lingering in the courtyard skirted out of the way.

  "What's going on?" Bray asked.

  "I think they are letting Gabe out," Teddy told Bray.

  Bray and Teddy stood at the doorway of their house, watching the guards walk toward one of the middle rooms, fanning out around the doorway while one of them fished keys from his pocket, and the others unsheathed their knives. Unlocking the door, the guard pulled it open and stepped back.

  They had only seen the slave from the fight once or twice, when guards had opened the door and thrown food in. A few times in the night, they had heard long, disconcerting cries coming from his room—sobs that sparked the curiosity and shame of all who passed by. Most had hurried past, afraid to get the attention of the guards.

  But the guards hadn't paid Gabe any mind.

  Now, days after his indiscretion, Gabe was still there. Or was he? It seemed as if the room were empty. Dark shadows covered most of the area they could see. Perhaps the guards would pull a starved, bloodied body from that room.

  Or maybe he had escaped.

  "Come out, forest-dweller," a guard yelled, clanging his blade against the inside of the door.

  The noise echoed through the courtyard, prompting a few people to take up at their front-row doorways to watch.

  "Come out, or I'll yank you out!" another guard threatened.

  A slow groan escaped from the cell. Moments later, a few scrapes echoed from the dark room. The lingering people craned their necks, trying to see inside. The guard banged his sword again, his impatience growing.

  A shaggy-haired man stepped out of the shadows, walking a few feet into the sunlight. Gabe's face was swollen and flecked with stubble. His clothes hung off him in tattered strips. If Bray hadn't seen Gabe thrown inside, he might've thought this was someone different.

  Stepping out into the courtyard, Gabe squinted at a sun he hadn't seen in days.

  The guards watched him for a few moments, as if he might make a vengeful lunge. But Gabe was in no such condition. His legs wobbled as he took another step. He seemed disoriented and confused. Bray knew the solitude of that dank cell, when days and nights blended together, connected only by the smell of stale piss and hours spent scratching at the door.

  Gabe's treatment was undeserved.

  But he was alive.

  Looking around the courtyard, Bray saw wonder on more than a few faces. A few scampered back to their houses, telling others, or heading back down the streets, perhaps to tell his family.

  "Some say he wouldn't walk again," Teddy said to Bray.

  "He's walking now," Bray said.

  Teddy blew a long breath as Gabe took another, staggering step. "It is a miracle to see him alive."

  Looking at Gabe, Bray couldn't help but relive the fight. He'd never forget the chants, the guards' provocations, and the families' screams.

  But something else struck him.

  With the battle's end imprinted on their brains, it was easy to forget what had transpired earlier.

  Gabe's friend, Jonah, had battled Roberto before he died.

  Jonah's struggled had been brief and defiant, but it had inspired the crowd.

  Almost everyone had rallied around their fellow slave.

  Looking around at the gawking people in the courtyard, Bray recalled the anger beneath the fear. Almost everyone did their toil without complaint, but he saw rage in too many eyes, as they took their beatings. Too many sat silently through scolding that would've prompted more than a few fights in the wild.

  What if that rage could be harnessed?

  Perhaps a spark was all that was needed to swing seven hundred slaves to their side to win a battle.

  And two hundred Shadow People was no small number.

  The Shadow People already outmanned the guards. With weapons, a battle would go quickly—especially when the attack was a surprise. Who would attack their brothers, sisters, or relatives when they started a battle with weapons against those that had enslaved them? Who would fight on the side of their oppressors, especially when a battle was going poorly? Some of the more bloodthirsty would jump into the fray without hesitation. Others would fight for their freedom, defend themselves, or perhaps get revenge. The most timid or complacent ones would swing to the side of the winner, once a revolt started. They'd want to preserve their lives.

  That didn't solve the problem of The Gifted, or the demons, but it was a start.

  No one would preserve a miserable system.

  A few, perhaps, out of fear. But certainly not all.

  Bray watched the guards flanking Gabe, escorting him across the courtyard, prodding him when he stumbled.

  The sight of the beaten, bloodied man should have ripped away his dreams, but instead it gave him hope.

  Maybe the revolt had a better chance than he'd originally thought.

  Chapter 37: Bray

  Moonlight illuminated the two figures next to Bray and Kirby as they stood behind the putrid-smelling building, waiting for the others. The tall, ashen monoliths of Ashville towered above them, reminding Bray of the danger they were in, but for the first time, he had hope they might escape this hellish place. The thoughts he'd put together in the courtyard inspired him.

  The hour of revolt was a step closer.

  A new set of footsteps approached, and a new face he could hardly see joined the circle. Moments later another huffing, nervous person arrived. The others shifted, making room for their comrades. Bray looked through the shadows, making enough of an identification to see it was the same group who met before.

  "Kirby says you have information," Drew said to both of them, in the same, stern voice he always used.

  "We have news," Kirby agreed, ready to share the things she and Bray had discussed on the way. "Possibly, some solutions."

  The group fell silent as they anxiously waited.

  Kirby started. "A few days ago, I was transferred to the metal shop."

  "I saw you there," Drew said, with a knowing nod.

  Kirby elaborated on her experience working with the sheet metal, and her access to some of the scrap bins. "I have learned enough of the routines to find some opportunities. I cannot take a lot at once, of course. But each shank will arm another person. If we are close to a solution, I am willing to take more risks."

  "That would be a big help," James told her. "You are not the only one taking from the shops. We have a few others ferreting away what they can."

  Kirby nodded at the information she and Bray had suspected. "Perhaps it is time to increase the amount we t
ake."

  "The guards will frisk anyone they find suspicious," Clara warned. "Be careful."

  "It sounds as if you have a bigger plan than shanks," Giovanni said.

  Bray took over the conversation, sharing what he had learned in the fields. "I spoke to some of the traders that do their business in front of the shimmering building."

  "Which people?" Drew asked.

  "The Yatari."

  The others nodded. A few shifted uncomfortably.

  "Not many have risked speaking with the traders," James said. "It is an easy way to death."

  "I took a risk that seems like it paid off." Bray told them of the information he'd provided on the ships, and the escape route they unwittingly—or perhaps knowingly—gave up.

  "You told them of New Hope," Drew said, with a similar nostalgia to Kirby's.

  "I did, but what I got was more important. The mountain pass might be an alternate route to freedom. When the time is close, we can break a hole in the stone wall, as the other slaves did, all those years ago. We will have a backup plan, if the revolt goes poorly."

  "I know of the pass of which you speak," Giovanni said, after a pause. "I traveled it a few times, before I was captured. I believe the Yatari tell the truth. There are fewer Plagued Ones there, but that doesn't mean it is safe. We might bring our own death, if the wild men follow us."

  "That is what Kirby mentioned," Bray said. "But it is fresh information, and more than we had before."

  No one disputed it.

  Taking back the conversation, Drew said, "You sound as if you have something else to say."

  Bray shared what he'd observed in the bloody battle, all those days ago.

  "I think we have more people on our side than we think," Bray said. "Most are too afraid to start a revolution, but they will join one, once it starts. The fight in the courtyard is proof of that. I saw the defiant looks in those eyes when Jonah attacked Roberto. I saw an obstinacy in the others that can turn into a will to fight."

  Kirby chimed in. "Some of the people may flee, or be shocked when a revolt starts, but many more will fight for their lives, and their freedom. Once they see the first guards topple, their anger will erupt. A small group will become a large one. Even the most timid of them will defend themselves, if they are forced to."

 

‹ Prev