Amber Sky

by Amy Braun

  The Stray Dogs hardly moved as I pushed Sawyer forward.

  We entered a gauntlet of deadly stares, vile curses, and savage promises. Marauder crews weren’t known for their manners, but some of the things they said to Sawyer simply shocked me.

  Breaking his bones with hammers. Roasting him alive. Cutting out his heart and feeding it to him.

  Sawyer continued to walk forward. With his back to me, I had no way to read him. No way to tell if these words were hurting or scaring him. No way to tell if he cared at all.

  I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the lone marauder. Yes, he pointed a gun at my head. Yes, he gave me some pretty good bruises. Yes, he could be related to the most feared and hated marauders in the world. That didn’t mean he deserved this kind of abuse.

  Finally cleared of the infuriated crowd, Benson approached Ryland’s door. The gigantic guards on either side hadn’t moved during Sawyer’s entrance, but they shook with rage when they saw him.

  “Oh, good,” he complained. “More people to add to my line.”

  Veins bulged in the guards’ necks. Anger flushed their cheeks. Benson quickly knocked on the door.

  “Do you always try to aggravate people who want to kill you?” I asked Sawyer quietly.

  “It’s a talent,” he replied. “Can’t tell if it’s a good one to have or not."

  I was sure of it now. Sawyer Kendric was completely insane.

  Ryland’s voice thundered from beyond the wood and iron door. Benson pushed it open and entered, Stanner and Dylan following like hungry dogs. I shoved Sawyer into the gloomy office, kicking the door shut behind me.

  Ryland stood in front of his desk, fists balled at his side.

  “Well?” he demanded. “Did he…”

  The captain trailed off when the other men parted to reveal Sawyer. He stared in disbelief, something I never thought he was capable of. It was as if he were looking at a ghost.

  “Nash came across a familiar face on his mission,” boasted Stanner.

  He grabbed Sawyer’s arm and yanked him out of my grasp. He dragged the younger man in front of Ryland and kicked the back of his legs. Sawyer grunted and dropped to his knees.

  He raised his head to look in Ryland’s eyes. The captain of the Stray Dogs loomed over him dangerously. I was amazed– and oddly grateful– that Sawyer didn’t say anything sarcastic. We waited for Ryland to do something, but he was completely focused on glaring at Sawyer.

  “Never thought Robertson would have more sons,” he finally said. “Must have been with a good whore.”

  “Reckon you’ve gotten experience with bad ones.”

  Ryland’s eyes flashed, but he didn’t hit Sawyer. Instead, he smiled. That worried me more than any display of violence.

  “I remember both Robertson and Davin having the same kind of attitudes. I wonder, do you have the same kind of tendency toward brutality?”

  “Cut me loose and find out.”

  Ryland stifled a laugh. He straightened his back and folded his arms over his chest. “Stanner. Dylan. Benson. Get out.”

  The three men looked at one another. They obviously considered questioning their leader’s actions. Why they assumed that would be smart was beyond me. Ryland shot each of them a piercing, warning gaze, and they left the room without another word or glance. I turned and started to follow them.

  “Not you, Nash.”

  I stopped and turned, quickly glancing at Sawyer. “Do you think he’ll be a problem?”

  Ryland smirked. “Not at all. But I didn’t mention your name. So you can’t leave.”

  I thought about lying, saying there were things around the den I could do, training to build up strength for my next fight… but if Ryland was asking me to stay, I could either obey, or face brutal consequences. I closed the door behind Benson, and walked back to the middle of the room behind Sawyer. The rogue stayed on his knees, knowing he was too sore to move past either of us.

  After a moment, Ryland said, “What kind of stories have you heard about the Wanderer Clan and the Kendrics, Nash?”

  I shrugged. “Horror stories, mostly. My parents were market merchants. I never saw much of the sky. Some cannon fire flashes occasionally, but all I heard were rumours.”

  Ryland nodded. “Men like to talk about brutality. Pretend it doesn’t unnerve us. Few of them have actually seen what true monsters are capable of.”

  I held my tongue rather than speak my mind– that I had been kidnapped and forced to live with monsters, so I knew exactly what they were capable of.

  “Some of those stories have come from my men, no doubt. They’ve told you what’s happened when we crossed with the Dauntless Wanderer and the beasts that sailed on her.” Ryland paused. “But they didn’t tell you about my wife.”

  I blinked. Ryland had a wife? I couldn’t imagine any woman who would want to be with a person like Ryland. Either she was as cold-hearted as he was, or she had been taken against her will.

  “Her name was Mira. Red hair, blue eyes,” his grin was lecherous. “Body that men would grovel to touch.” The grin remained on his face, but lost its life. “She was a needy sort, but when I put her in her place, she was pleasant enough.”

  I stared without expression. Sawyer remained on his knees.

  “Couple months before The Storm, we raided a military supply ship. They had big guns and we lost some good men, but the loot was worth it. Enough food to last us a full year, and weapons that would fill up an entire storeroom to the brink. We fought for the spoils. Bled for them. Earned them.” Ryland’s stony eyes dropped to Sawyer. “Seems the Kendrics thought they had a right to take what didn’t belong to them.”

  Sawyer didn’t move an inch. I scarcely heard him breathe.

  “Every time I think about they way they broke out of the clouds, sharply and without a sound, I think of the Hellions. That was what they acted like, anyway. Absolute savages.”

  Ryland crouched in front of Sawyer to be eye level with him. “Your father was thorough. Cut men three times to make sure they wouldn’t rise. Stabbed through their bellies, through their hearts, then their throats. He didn’t seem to be satisfied until he was drenched in blood. But your brother…”

  He paused as the memories came back to him. I didn’t see any horror or disgust about what happened. Only distance. He remembered this fateful day, but he had blocked off almost every emotion surrounding it.

  Every emotion but rage.

  “He didn’t see the sense in killing men quickly. Oh, he was efficient. Make no mistake. He cut off the limbs of any man he could see, crippling them so they couldn’t run. By the end, he wore as much blood as your father. When my men were overwhelmed, he went back to the ones he’d cut down. He didn’t forget their faces, any more than they forgot his.”

  Ryland took out a knife from his belt and held it toward Sawyer’s face. The younger man recoiled back, but Ryland was quicker. He clamped his hand on Sawyer’s shoulder and squeezed until his captive grunted with pain.

  “Davin liked to watch men die. While his father was sending out orders to grab all the remaining loot and hostages before we came back, Davin was slowly stabbing the men he’d sliced into. Most times, he stabbed them in the stomach.”

  I heard Sawyer’s sharp hiss as Ryland slowly pushed the tip of the knife into his belly, just enough to cause pain and terrorize him. I was about to take step forward, then stopped myself. If I intervened, Ryland would take offense, and Sonya could get hurt. I hadn’t seen her since I came back. I had no way of knowing if she’d been beaten further while I was gone, and I couldn’t risk it for someone I didn’t know.

  But it infuriated me all the same.

  “Davin did it slowly,” Ryland continued, pulling his arm back. “In different areas.” Another wheeze of pain. This time Sawyer slumped forward, held back by Ryland’s claw-like grip.

  “He smiled every time they screamed, laughed every time they begged for mercy, and did it again. I watched it all from my ship, where I’d been
trying to help my wounded men and salvage as much as we could. Ten of us died in the battle with our target ship. Forty more were on it when Robertson and his devil son attacked. I’m a damn good pirate, but I know how to survive. The dozen men I had left would be no match for Robertson and his entire, energetic crew. I ordered my remaining men to set sail. We all knew it would be too late for the others. If we didn’t leave then, our ship would never have made it.”

  Ryland pulled his arm back from Sawyer again. The young pirate groaned painfully and lowered his head to his chest.

  “The moment we unfurled the sails and dropped the lines, I heard another scream. A sharp one. The kind no man could possibly make.”

  Ryland closed his eyes and shook his head. If I didn’t know better, I would have said he was still grieving. But the look on his face was one of annoyance, not sorrow.

  “Mira was always getting into trouble. Too damn curious. Always sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.”

  He lifted his head, fixing Sawyer with a menacing glare.

  “Davin called to me. Said I forgot something. When I turned around, there she was. My Mira. He had her by the hair, a knife to her throat. She screamed for me, begged me to come back. That she was scared. Davin pulled her away, had his men tie her to the middle of the ship’s’ netting. Cut off all her clothes.”

  Horror filled me. I wanted the story to stop. Sawyer took a deep breath. “I wasn’t–”

  “Didn’t see much of what happened next,” Ryland overrode. “Our ship was moving too fast. But I heard enough. Used a periscope and saw how his arm moved with the knife. He didn’t hold back.” He paused, as if considering something in the memory. “I’m guessing he missed the vitals at first. He must’ve, because even after I saw a dozen of those stabs, she kept screaming.”

  Ryland tilted his head. “Were you going to tell me you weren’t there? All right, I’ll believe that. But did Davin tell you what he did? Did he boast about it while he was covered in my wife’s blood? Did you think it was as funny as he did?”

  Sawyer said nothing. Did that mean he was stowed away on his father’s ship, forced to listen as Davin and the rest of the Wanderers boasted about their easy score? The tortures they’d inflicted?

  Or had Sawyer seen them all from a distance?

  “I’m not like them,” was all the captive managed to say.

  It was all I needed to hear.

  That was a voice I knew. A deep, exhausting weariness from a man constantly fighting the odds. Battling against a family name he didn’t want. There was no faking the hurt I heard, the sound of defeat, as though Sawyer knew no one would believe him. He was alone with a bloodstained legacy that would never be washed clean.

  Ryland nodded. “If you say so.”

  The leader of the Stray Dogs rose from his crouch and looked at me. So much for being forgotten about.

  “Where did you find him?”

  “With Davy,” I admitted. “They made some sort of deal.”

  Ryland shot Sawyer a callous look. “With a knife in the old man’s gut, no doubt.”

  “No,” I defended. “Davy’s alive. We brought back some food. I let him know where his priorities were, and will remain.”

  That was putting it in the loosest sense, but it placated Ryland. He even offered me a proud smile. I wanted to punch it off his face.

  “So you did step up from the Crater. About time.”

  I stared at him with empty eyes. “I held up my end. What happened to Sonya?”

  Ryland shrugged. “Nothing besides the usual. She’s still got a pretty face if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  He ignored my glare.

  “I’ll even send her to your quarters. You could do with some relaxation before you go into the Crater tomorrow night.”

  My shoulders slumped.

  “Don’t sound look so distraught, Nash. This is going to be a special, embarrassingly short fight for you. After all, I’m going to want all the men to get their shots in. It wouldn’t be fair if you broke him all by yourself.”

  Ryland’s cryptic words and icy smile put me on a knife’s edge.

  “I don’t understand,” I said cautiously. “Who am I fighting?”

  Ryland rolled his eyes and sighed, the way he would as if he were speaking to a dimwitted child he was too lazy to hit.

  Then Ryland nudged Sawyer’s shoulder with his boot. The prisoner sprawled on his back. Two small spots of blood coated his tunic. His eyes were pinched shut to hide the pain from his bruises and cuts.

  Ryland said, “Him, of course.”

  Chapter 6

  Sonya watched me pace my room nervously. Her clothes were still on, but she held the blanket tight to her chest as if she could hide from me.

  I wasn’t just in a bad mood. I was in a dangerous one.

  “They’ll rip him apart,” I said, spinning on my heel and stalking to the left wall. “He’ll be scraps by the time they’re done.”

  “You mean by the time Ryland is done with him,” she said.

  I glanced at her. Aside from a couple bruises on her upper arms, Sonya looked unhurt. She assured me that no one had laid a truly harmful hand on her since I left to seek out Davy. I decided to believe her. I was close to snapping with rage, and I didn’t want to frighten Sonya more than she already was.

  “We both know that Ryland will want to be the one who kills him,” she went on, “if the story you told me about his wife is true. Even if it’s not, he’ll do it just because the man is a Kendric.”

  “And he wants me to start the whole thing. To pummel an already beaten man so the others can act like animals.”

  I stopped pacing and shook my head.

  It was one thing to pit me against men that I knew deserved a beat down. The bullies, abusers, rapists, and killers I shared this hovel with. It was another thing entirely to start the slow, agonizing execution of a man who, in my mind, had done nothing to deserve it.

  Maybe Sawyer wasn’t good man. Maybe he was faking all of this and just as ruthless as his father and brother.

  I no longer cared.

  “I’m not doing it,” I said.

  “What?”

  I turned to Sonya. “I’m not going to let Ryland and his thugs kill Sawyer. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life as a fist for the Stray Dogs.”

  Sonya shot to her feet and crossed the room to me. “You’re leaving?”

  I nodded. “With you. And Sawyer.”

  Her jaw practically dropped to the floor. “Are you crazy?” she hissed. “You have any idea what Ryland will do to you if he catches you?”

  “Same thing he intends to do to Sawyer, I assume.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she stuck a finger into my chest. “Don’t you dare joke about this, Nash. No one has ever left a Clan and lived.”

  “First time for everything, right?”

  “Damn it, Nash, this is serious!”

  I held her gaze for a long time. “Why do you think I’m talking about it?”

  Sonya’s eyes turned fearful. I was the only person who defended her, refused to use her as a plaything. But there was no denying that my plan was utter suicide.

  “If you don’t want to risk leaving with me, Sonya, I won’t blame you. But if that’s the case, please don’t draw attention to what I’m going to do. You know it won’t buy you anything for long. Ryland will leave you alone for a few days, and then it will be back to the usual routine. The men won’t want to lose their chance to hurt you.” I lowered my voice. “And I know they have, Sonya.”

  She didn’t deny it, but she chewed her lower lip as she thought my words over. Obviously, she assumed I wouldn’t see the way she limped around some days, holding her ribs and using her hair to obscure her face. I did what I could to protect her, but it wasn’t enough. It never would be.

  Not unless she let me help her escape.

  “Even if you got out,” Sonya said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Where would we go? There’s nothing a
boveground, and no way past the barricade.”

  I decided not to tell her that was my plan– to get over the barricade and see how the rest of Aon had favoured. After eight years, there must have been survivors. We couldn’t be the last living city in the world.

  Could we?

  Ignoring that thought, I offered her another idea. “You can go underground to one of the colonies. There are tons of them.”

  Sonya scoffed with disgust. “And end up doing the same thing I’m doing now for an Electrician instead of a marauder? I don’t think so.”

  I held back my sigh. “Then what do you want to do?” I asked, adding hesitantly, “I, uh… I don’t know what kind of skills you have.”

  She smiled weakly at that. “I’m good with plants. My mother used to be a gardener.”

  Sonya looked down quickly. I had a feeling that the memories she might have of her mother gardening were bittersweet now.

  “Maybe we can get you a job with a farmer,” I said. An idea began to form quickly. “Sawyer knows Davy. They’re not really friends, but they had some kind of partnership going on. He’s old, and could probably use the help, even if he won’t admit it.”

  Sonya’s worried eyes began to turn a little more hopeful. She wanted to leave this place as badly as I did. Everyone who wasn’t a Dog wanted out of the den. To at least give ourselves the illusion we were free with the Hellions looming above us.

  “Let’s say for argument’s sake, that I’m agreeing with you,” she said. “What’s your plan?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, then fell silent. “I was going to break Sawyer out.” I sounded cocky and not the least bit intelligent.

  “I got that part,” she teased. “I meant how.”

  I paused, trying to think of something that sounded plausible. I couldn’t come up with anything but the truth.

  “Honestly, I was just going to find Sawyer’s weapons, knock out the guards, and hope he doesn’t shoot me in the back while we run out of the tunnels.”

  Sonya’s eyes widened. I didn’t think my plan was that bad until I said it aloud.