Road's End (The Narrow Gate Book 4)

by Janean Worth

  “Please, do not,” he muttered, his face once more pressed against the ground, his mouth filling with dust as he groveled. “Please . . .”

  “Wherever you have come from must be important if you fight so hard and beg so prettily to see it protected. The Sovereign will reward us handsomely for it, I’m sure. Have you been hiding the Strays, Gabert? Do you know the location of the Old Tech the Sovereign seeks with such single‑minded purpose?”

  “No,” Gabert groaned, seeing red behind his half‑closed lids. He wished that the man had hit him just a bit harder, so that he would have died. He wished that he’d been patient and waited as Therese had instructed. He wished that he had not left the Narrow Gate.

  “Please, just kill me,” he muttered. “I am worthless.”

  “Yes, you are,” one of the Enforcers agreed. “A worthless deserter.”

  As his vision began to clear somewhat, another voice spoke, “Load him up on the back of my saddle. We need to follow the trail he’s made before darkness falls.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  For a moment, Kara stood there in stunned indecision, a spurt of adrenaline sizzling through her system, making her nerve endings buzz. Then, with a sudden shock, the tense moment ended abruptly and she turned to run.

  Immediately, she heard the sound of hundreds of sets of long claws begin a mad scramble up out of the channel to chase after her.

  Her only chance was to make it to Gallant’s saddlebags, where she hoped the shielding device was stored. She didn’t know if Mathew had taken it with him. She didn’t know which pocket he’d stored it in if he hadn’t.

  “Mathew! Fidgets!” she screamed in warning, hoping that they hadn’t already found him in the tunnels. She hadn’t heard any sort of commotion from the tunnels; the Fidgets had simply appeared silently inside the channel. She hoped that this meant that they had not encountered Mathew and that he was unharmed. She hoped that they hadn’t taken care of him first, and then come after her.

  She spared a glance behind her, and the sight of so many Fidgets so close in pursuit sent a quiver of fear up her spine. Knowing that she didn’t have time to search through the saddlebags, she snatched them off of the floor where she’d put them beside the saddles. Though it took precious seconds, she paused to seize both sets of reins, tossed the heavy saddlebags over her shoulder, and took off for the ramp again, dragging the horses behind her. She had no time to try to mount either horse, but she thought she still had time to run.

  She wasn’t about to leave them to provide a meal for the Fidgets.

  Neither Gallant nor the filly needed much urging. They easily passed her on the way to the ramp, the filly’s movements jerky with terror. The floor was slick with water, and Kara’s feet slipped and slid in her headlong rush to get away. When they neared the ramp, her dilapidated shoes could barely find purchase. Giving a scream of frustration, Kara flung the reins over Gallant’s back and gave the animal a quick slap on the rump to urge him forward.

  As she slipped again, almost going down, Gallant and the filly took off, out into the fading storm above.

  Kara felt a moment of satisfaction, knowing that the horses had gotten to safety. Scrambling, she tried to follow, but fell to her knees instead. Gasping in frustration, she grabbed the saddlebags from her shoulder and began to rifle through them, trying to find the shielding Old Tech device by feel alone.

  It only took her moments to realize that it wasn’t there.

  With another cry of frustration, Kara scrambled once more toward freedom, using both her hands and feet to try to scuttle, crablike, upward over the wet, slick surface, but it was too late. Before she could gain any traction and join the horses out in the storm, sharp claws bit into her ankle and yanked her back down the ramp.

  Kara kicked out, trying to dislodge the Fidget, but it was no use. The beast would not release its grip no matter how hard she kicked and flailed. In seconds, more Fidgets joined their companion, reaching out to grab her. Claws bit into her shoulders, her thighs, her arms.

  She screamed, both in anger and in pain, dread pooling in her stomach at the realization that she was moments away from becoming a meal. Her scream only seemed to excite them and they jabbered and hissed with tones of glee. Shuddering, Kara couldn’t help but recall the bloody gore that remained after the last Fidget meal she’d witnessed, when bits of Jax’s mother had been splattered across the forest floor.

  She redoubled her efforts, kicking, slapping, clawing, grunting. But she could not free herself.

  “Waitttttt,” hissed one of the beasts, crowding through the throng of gibbering animals to get closer to her. “Waitttt . . .”

  The claws continued to clutch at her, but the jabbering quieted.

  “Only one . . . Companion . . .” the Fidget hissed.

  Kara drew in a sharp breath at the garbled words. Did that mean she was the only person they’d found? Were they wondering where her companion, Mathew, had gone?

  “You’ll never find him!” she yelled, hoping that Mathew would hear her and heed her warning. “He’s gone! He left me! He left me behind!”

  “Companion . . .” one of the other Fidgets repeated in a raspy voice, the word sounding like rock grating against gravel.

  “He’s gone, I said. Gone!” Kara screamed again, as loudly as she could, her throat aching with the effort, hoping that her voice would echo down the tunnel.

  The Fidget grasping her angle tightened its grip, claws sinking deep, and Kara couldn’t hold back another scream of pain.

  “Food,” the ankle grabber hissed. “Food.”

  “No,” the other Fidget hissed. “Companion.”

  “Food!” yelled the ankle grabber, yanking her ankle to bring her closer to him. “Eat.”

  The whole group of Fidgets burst into their jabbering, hissing nonsense again, the tone of the muttered sounds angry.

  Kara tried again to jerk away from those that held her, hoping that they’d be distracted by whatever argument they seemed to be having, but when she tried, they just gripped her tighter. She ground her teeth to keep her groans of pain inside.

  Moments passed, and finally the gibbering, muttering, and hissing stopped. Every eye focused on her, gleaming with malice, hate, and hunger.

  “Companion,” one of the Fidgets announced.

  The others seemed to agree with it this time, as, en masse, they clustered around her and picked her up. The others withdrew their claws, but a plethora of other sets of claws pinched and poked and scraped at her as she was passed from one to the next until she was at the beginning of the large group of Fidgets. Then, they dropped her on her back, not bothering to be careful about it. Though her elbow met the tiled floor with jarring force, she ignored the pain, realizing that she was momentarily free, but before she could react, one of them grabbed her arm and tugged her to her feet, then began dragging her toward the channel that was lined with iron rails.

  “Companion,” it repeated.

  Were they taking her to look for Mathew? What were they doing? Why had they decided not to eat her? Surely there was nothing that meant more to them than food.

  She shuddered again, saying a quick prayer of thankfulness. Whatever it was that had convinced them not to use her for a fast meal, she was glad of it. She did not relish experiencing the sensation of them gnawing upon her bones while she still lived.

  When they neared the channel, one of the Fidgets shoved her roughly from behind, claws scraping down her back, and she fell headlong into the dark chasm, only just managing to keep her feet when she hit the bottom. She stumbled around, nearly tripping over an iron rail that gleamed dully, barely visible in the dim, flickering light of the still‑burning oil lamp.

  Again, she was momentarily free, as the Fidgets began to jump into the channel behind her, their short stubby legs now a handicap to them. Seeing her chance, she darted to the left, the opposite direction than Mathew had gone into the tunnel.

  Adrenaline gave her feet wings as she took off at a he
adlong sprint into the blackness of the tunnel.

  The Fidgets behind her erupted into harsh jabberings and hisses once again, the sound of it spilling into the tunnel ahead of her and echoing back into her face, surrounding her, sending gooseflesh up her arms and legs as she ran. Hoping that there were no Fidgets in front of her, Kara ran for all she was worth, knowing that she only had seconds to get away. Turning slightly, she glanced behind her, hoping to catch one final glimpse of their position in the last remains of the dim light before she entered the blackness of the tunnel.

  They were right behind her, boiling down the tunnel after her like a virulent disease, intent on devouring her when they caught up to her. She faced forward again, pouring on a burst of speed, and ran headlong into some huge, hard, immovable object. Her head thwacked against metal with a sickening jolt, knocking her off of her feet and into the blackness of unconsciousness.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The sun above the glass ceiling of the conservatory glowed vermillion as it gilded the room with late evening radiance. The glossy leaves of the numerous fruit and nut trees gleamed dully in the light, each one reflecting a small amount of radiance back into the conservatory. Jack sat in the conservatory with the rest of the gathered Strays, lazing in a shaded spot beneath a grouping of pear trees near the west wall. Beside him, Merrilee lay on the soft earthy loam, nestled almost all of the way under a bush. Holding aloft the shard of shiny disk that Kara had given her, the girl watched the way the rainbow of iridescent colors glittered in the sun’s fading rays.

  Otto was reciting from the Book, a practice that he did daily, much to Jack’s enjoyment. Not only did Jack like hearing the powerful Words of the Book and Otto’s deep, metallic voice reciting them, he also enjoyed the time to gather with the other Strays. This was the only time each day that they all assembled together. Even the few servants who had escaped the House with them gathered to hear the Word recited. Only one of them didn’t seem to enjoy it as much as Jack did, and this woman was always furtively watching the gathered Strays through narrowed eyes while Otto’s voice filled the airy space.

  Except for this gathering time, Otto left them to their own devices much of the day, allowing them to sleep, eat, or rest as much as they desired. Living in the protected sanctuary, as Kara had them all calling it, was a far cry from living in the House at GateWide.

  Jack shuddered, just thinking of the atrocities that he’d witnessed—and borne—there. The movement hurt his healing wounds, and he grimaced.

  “Don’t think about it,” Merrilee whispered from his side, as if reading his mind. “Just listen to the sound of Otto’s voice and the Word, and watch the glimmer of color on this shard, and don’t think about it.”

  Jack gave her a tiny smile. Of course she’d known what he was thinking. It was what all of them tried not to think about every single day.

  “Are you scared now that Kara and Mathew have gone to look for the Narrow Gate?” Jack whispered, keeping his voice pitched well under Otto’s so that he would not interrupt the recitation.

  “No, not at all,” Merrilee said. “In fact, I’m glad they’re gone.”

  Jack glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Surely he had misheard her.

  “You’re glad they’re gone?”

  “Yes, I was getting a little tired of Kara,” Merrilee whispered back.

  “Tired of Kara?” Jack repeated, astounded. “But, Kara and Mathew rescued us. And they brought us here, where it is safe and there’s plenty to eat. And Kara has been helping to care for all of the Strays, including you and me, since we got here.”

  Merrilee sat up abruptly, staring at him with steely eyes, “Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that again.”

  “What?” Jack asked, dumbfounded. “A Stray? But, that’s what we are!”

  “No, that’s what the Sovereign called us. That’s not what we are!” Merrilee hissed in a very loud voice.

  Otto paused in his recitation.

  “Jack, Merrilee, is something wrong?” Otto asked gently.

  With an odd sense of embarrassment, Jack realized that everyone was staring in their direction. He suddenly felt like crawling into the tangle of trees at his back and hiding from their attention. Drawing attention to oneself had been a bad thing to do in the House, and he had not rid himself of the habit of avoiding it.

  “No, Otto. Nothing is wrong,” Jack whispered. “Please continue with your recitation. I am sorry for the interruption.”

  Jack gave Merrilee a quelling look, hoping that she would not say another word to interrupt the recitation again.

  To his surprise, she glared back at him, stood, dusted off the seat of her ragged pants, and stalked out of the conservatory, her determined stride contrasting sharply with her small, frail frame.

  He watched her leave, surprised at her rudeness. Merrilee had become increasingly odd over the few weeks that they’d lived in the sanctuary. He knew that she had begun to watch him frequently, so much so that he often looked for her in shadowed areas that he passed, but she had never once expressed her opinion so vehemently to him before.

  She had almost reached the exit to the conservatory when she gasped and came to an abrupt halt, her small hand flying to her equally small chest in a gesture of surprise.

  Seeing her shocked behavior, Jack struggled to his feet, trying to make out what had caused her alarm, and saw a girl cautiously making her way down the hallway that led from the stables.

  He rushed toward Merrilee, hobbling, his slow‑healing wounds aching, intending to protect her from whatever danger the girl may represent, but Otto got there first, easily shielding Merrilee with his large body.

  “I mean no harm,” the girl said, looking fearful, yet creeping ever closer to the conservatory entrance.

  “How did you find this place?” Jack asked. “The way is hidden.”

  Otto stepped forward, blocking Jack’s way, and the strange girl cowered back, taking in Otto’s immense height and odd, metallic appearance. Jack thought that perhaps the sight of Otto’s brightly glowing red eyes contributed greatly to the look of horror on the girl’s face.

  “What . . .” The girl gulped, then recovered herself. “What are you?”

  “Never mind that,” Jack interrupted, stepping around the metal giant as he pushed Merrilee safely behind his back, ignoring the pain that sliced through the ragged wounds on his chest. “What are you doing here? Did the Sovereign send you?”

  The girl couldn’t quite hide her reaction to the name, flinching a bit when he said it, her eyes darting off to the side for a moment.

  “No . . . No. I come from . . . my village,” the girl’s gaze had darted back to Otto, and she was staring, looking almost terrified.

  “Your village?” Merrilee said from behind him, her small voice reflecting her interest. “There are no villages. There are no settlements except for GateWide. And, I guess, now here, with us.”

  “That’s what I thought, too,” the girl said. “I mean, that there were no other people besides us. That is, until . . . I mean, until I found this place and you.”

  “And how did you find us?”

  “Well . . .” the girl looked confused for a moment. “I just did. I don’t know how. I just found you. I like to . . . explore, you know, look at abandoned places, but I never saw a city this big before.”

  “You like to explore?” Merrilee asked, sounding very interested. “Have you been to the Mire, then?”

  The girl looked at her. “The Mire?”

  “Yes, it is supposed to be dangerous and scary and full of all sorts of creatures. And smelly. It is supposed to have smelly air that makes it hard to breathe.”

  The girl’s eyes brightened in recognition. “I know the place, but I would never explore there.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought.

  “Child, why don’t you come inside and have something to eat and tell us of your explorations. I would very much like to hear of this village of yours,” Otto said in his deep, sli
ghtly metallic voice.

  The girl still looked afraid and she hesitated, as if weighing her options. Finally, she took another tentative step closer.

  “Well, I am very hungry. Thank you.”

  Otto gave a small bow, which looked strangely graceful when executed by his enormous metal body. “I am at your service.”

  “Otto,” Jack hissed quietly. “What if she’s, you know, dangerous?”

  The girl merely glanced at him, saying nothing.

  “My creator created me to help, Jack, and this is what I must do. This girl is hungry; I cannot deny her food.”

  The girl looked at Jack, a faintly guilty gleam in her eye, and then skittered around Otto and into the conservatory, slinking over to join the Strays in the shade of the nut trees.

  Strangely, Jack caught one of the former House servants—Hertha, he thought her name was—watching the new girl quite intently, with an odd, knowing gleam in her eye.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mathew wandered down the dark tunnel slowly, looking for bits of anything flammable. Unlike Kara, he wasn’t afraid of his surroundings. Instead, he found them fascinating. The tunnel below ground was like nothing he had ever seen before. Nothing he’d ever even imagined. Concrete had been used to create the seemingly endless tubular tunnel. It ran almost completely straight from what he could tell from his short jaunt into it, and the floor that he walked upon was completely level. So straight. So precise. How had the people from the Time Before managed such a feat? In GateWide, there was nothing to compare. The roads there were often rough, sloping, and full of pits made from heavy use. And there had been no tunnels at all.

  And the tunnel was so clean. There was no trash or debris anywhere at all. No leaves, no sticks, no blown‑in bits of detritus. Nothing. The concrete was not even particularly dirty, and there were no cobwebs, as he’d thought there would be when he first started into the dark space.