The Fighter

by Leslie Georgeson

  Criminals had trashed the shelter a few weeks ago, stealing several containers of food and ransacking the living quarters. There had been a shortage of beds before the gang wars. Now the place was overwhelmed with people who slept wherever they could find a vacant spot. The swarm of humanity was suffocating. Fights broke out constantly. Most of the original volunteers had left weeks ago, fleeing to the safety of other towns. Now only two of us remained to help care for the steadily growing population of homeless people who flooded the place every night in search of a bed to sleep on. There were no vacant beds anymore. Not even for me. Most nights I found myself sitting on the hard floor and wondering why I even bothered staying. I guess because I still believed I could make a difference. These people had nowhere else to go. No one else to help them.

  I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. I had almost forgotten what it was like to sleep in a real bed.

  Every morning I rose at the crack of dawn to go to the empty courthouse to check the bulletin board in the hope that someone would post a job I was qualified to do, something close by so I could still volunteer at the shelter. The family I had been working for before the gang wars had fled west weeks ago, taking the two children I’d been caring for with them. Understandably, they had been unable to offer me future employment. The family had gone to be with relatives in Colorado and to search for work there. I didn’t blame them. They were smart to leave.

  I’d been on my own since. Jobless and homeless. The shelter wasn’t so bad. I liked being close by in case someone needed me. But I couldn’t stay here forever. There was no privacy here. I needed to find work, a way to support myself again. And it was dangerous here now. Especially at night when the gangs prowled the streets searching for victims. The military patrolled regularly, but they could only do so much, and the gangs were elusive, always managing to keep out of the military’s reach. The gangs knew this city better than the military did. They knew where to hide. They had lookouts keeping an eye on the military activity, always just one step ahead of the soldiers. This war might continue for months, possibly even years.

  I slipped out of the building while the others still slept. Most of the streets were deserted as I made my way to the vacant courthouse. I wasn’t anticipating anything much as I glanced up at the bulletin board, letting my gaze skim over the ads.

  A new ad at the top of the board caught my eye. It hadn’t been there yesterday. I paused, my heart pounding.

  Live-in nanny needed for 5-yr-old girl. Experience with children required.

  Excitement pumped through my veins. This was a job I could do. I was an experienced nanny.

  Must be honest and reliable.

  That was me. Honest. Reliable.

  Will pay handsomely for the right person.

  Handsomely. I liked that word. That meant a lot of money, right?

  Live-in nanny…

  Did that mean I would have my own bed? The idea was so appealing I almost didn’t comprehend the next sentence.

  Interested parties meet me at the parking lot of Laney High School at midnight on Friday.

  At midnight? My excitement waned. Why at midnight? Why not during the day?

  What if the ad wasn’t legit? What if it was just a creeper seeking some unsuspecting person to abduct under cover of darkness?

  What if it was legit? I would never know if I didn’t go to that meeting place.

  Creeper be damned, I needed this job. I didn’t want to become a permanent resident at the homeless shelter. I was desperate enough to meet a stranger at midnight to make sure the job became mine. I could still volunteer at the homeless shelter in the evenings, right?

  I yanked the ad free of the thumbtack holding it in place and stuffed it in my pocket. I didn’t want anyone else to show up at the meeting place. I needed this job. It was mine.

  I turned away from the bulletin board and hurried back to the shelter. Tomorrow was Friday. It was possible others had seen the ad before me, so I planned to show up at the meeting place early before anyone else arrived. I was prepared to fight for this job, if necessary.

  The possibility of having my own bed to sleep in, and being able to earn my own money again…

  Filled me with hope for the first time in weeks.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jacob

  Dawn appeared over the horizon as I returned to the underground maze in the woods. Our hideout was deep in a Loblolly pine forest on the outskirts of the small Georgia town of Eatonton. We’d purchased an abandoned plantation home and converted it into our hideout last year. Our quarters were hidden deep underneath the old mansion, in a maze that was difficult to navigate. The estate was haunted by spirits of the past, and those ghosts tended to frighten away anyone who happened to stumble across the decrepit mansion in the woods. The ghosts didn’t bother us, probably because our souls were more damaged than theirs.

  I quickly made my way through the dark maze, now knowing the route by heart. The other dregs were in the workout room, the sounds of activity reaching my ears as I paused out in the corridor where we resided. Weights clanging. Fists pounding into the punching bag. Grunts and curses from the ring where someone was sparring. Shouts of encouragement from observers. I missed working out with my dreg brothers, but I’d been banned from going anywhere near any of them after my betrayal last month.

  I didn’t blame them. I was lucky they hadn’t killed me. Not since my dreg partner Ralph had died in our escape last year had I felt so alone. It stung knowing none of my dreg brothers were there for me anymore. But I was a traitor now. They didn’t trust me. Especially Tony. It was past time I left this place. And ventured out on my own. I’d already made the preparations to do just that. As soon as I secured a nanny, then all I had to do was collect my daughter and leave.

  A loud crash came from inside the workout room. Raised voices. Skirmishes among the dregs were rare, though not unheard of. My curiosity getting the best of me, I leaned closer to the door to listen in. Being an outcast these past few weeks had sucked, as I hadn’t been privy to any information the other dregs possessed and shared with each other. I truly was an outsider now.

  Footsteps thudded toward the door, warning me of someone’s approach. I leapt back just as the door jerked open.

  “Un-fucking believable!” Tony aka The Smuggler stormed out of the room, pausing momentarily to glare at me with his blacker-than-sin eyes. “Were you eavesdropping, motherfucker? Did you just hear that?”

  No, I hadn’t. But I wish I had.

  Tony always seemed to be at the center of any disputes. Intentionally, I was certain. The other dregs constantly referred to Tony as a ticking time bomb, but I wasn’t afraid of him. I think he put on a good show to keep people at bay. Underneath, I think he was a lot like me. Boiling with so much anger and disgust and guilt and pain and self-loathing for all the despicable things he’d been forced to do and all the horrible things that had been done to him. All of the dregs suffered from some form of PTSD. Guys like Tony tended to follow paths leading straight toward self-destruction. He liked the violence. He craved it. But not because he enjoyed hurting others. Because he felt unworthy of anything good and kind in this world, so he punished himself by constantly getting into fights and trying to find ways to hurt himself. I understood him. I was a lot like him. After all the shit we’d been through, it was a wonder any of us were even sane at all.

  A normal person would steer clear of Tony—and rightfully so. He gave off a menacing air of insanity that would scare the hell out of anyone who didn’t know him like I did.

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  He narrowed those shrewd black eyes that were as clear and sane as mine. No, Tony wasn’t insane, but he played the part really well. He slammed his palm into my shoulder, shoving me back a step.

  If I didn’t have a kid sleeping in my apartment a few doors down, I would shove the asshole back. But I had to consider the consequences of all my actions now, because whatever I did wouldn’t affect just me anym
ore. It would affect Hazel. So I let the shove pass without reciprocating. But I held my ground, my gaze boring into his. I wasn’t a pushover and I wouldn’t become one now just because Tony was in another foul mood.

  Granted, he was still pissed at me for betraying Tracker. He was loyal through and through, and if you betrayed him or one of his dreg brothers, he never forgave you. Though I didn’t fault him for that—loyalty was an admirable trait—I didn’t regret what I’d done. I hadn’t wanted to do it, but I’d had no choice. The General—the primary owner of The Company and my superior, my boss for twelve years—had threatened my kid’s life. I’d had to choose between letting my daughter be murdered or betraying my dreg brother Tracker and handing his woman over to The Company. I’d done what I had to do to keep Hazel safe.

  “It doesn’t concern you, anyway,” Tony sneered. “This truly makes you an outsider now.”

  He flipped me the bird and marched past before I could ask what he was talking about.

  Nate aka The Healer appeared in the doorway. He was Tony’s partner and always had a read on Tony’s emotions. I’d once shared the same connection with Ralph before he’d died. All the dregs shared a connection with their partners, a bond that went beyond any normal human connection. I didn’t have that anymore now that Ralph was dead. I truly was alone, an outsider now. Except for my daughter, a kid I had no clue what to do with.

  Nate eyed me for a long moment with those piercing green eyes that missed nothing. Nate was the unofficial peacemaker of our group. Whenever a dispute broke out, he was the one who helped smooth over any ruffled feathers and separated us before we did too much damage to each other. I had no doubt that if I had shoved Tony back a moment ago, we would be in the middle of a brawl right now and Nate would have to separate us.

  Nate eyed me with that knowing gaze. “Did you overhear what we were just talking about?”

  “No. Is it important?”

  Nate sighed. “Probably not to you, but the rest of us…we’re all biological half-brothers. The General was our father.” He paused a moment to let that sink in.

  “No shit?” That was unexpected. The General had been a sick, demented asshole who had conducted grisly experiments on us, tortured and abused us for years, all in his sick attempts to create the “perfect soldier”. I felt nothing but relief that I wasn’t related to that bastard in any way.

  “I was waiting to tell the others because I wasn’t sure how they would take it. Tony, especially.” Nate sighed again and glanced down the corridor in the direction Tony had disappeared. “I hope this doesn’t put him over the edge.” He pulled his gaze back to me. “You and Gordon are the only exceptions, apparently. Lucky bastards.”

  Gordon aka The Gardener had been killed by the Rapsters gang last month. We’d gone in to try to free him, but he’d been shot before we could get to him. His loss affected all of us, but especially Tracker, his dreg partner. Fortunately for Tracker, he had found a good woman to love him and help him deal with Gordon’s loss. Tracker had left us a few days ago to be with Jessica in Idaho. He was one lucky bastard. We were all jealous.

  Tony’s words from moments ago came back to me.

  This truly makes you an outsider now.

  No truer words had been spoken. This new information was like another rip in the threads that had been unraveling, pulling me apart from the others. I was no longer a part of the group, and now this nearly cut me off completely from them.

  “How long have you known?”

  Nate held my gaze. “Since the day we went in and freed Tracker. Jessica told me about it and later Tracker confirmed what The General had told them.” I’d kidnapped Jessica and handed her over to The General, so he wouldn’t kill my daughter. Tracker had given himself up in exchange for Jessica’s release. The other dregs had gone in and freed him, but not before The General had pumped some kind of experimental new drug into him that had nearly killed him. I would have to live with the guilt of what I’d done for the rest of my life. I’d never wanted to betray my dreg brother that way, but I’d had no choice. If I had to do it all over again, I would do the same damn thing. Because nothing and no one was more important than my daughter’s life.

  I nodded slowly. So Nate had known for several weeks now. This information might push Tony over the edge, deeper down the path of self-destruction. It would be difficult for any of the dregs to take. It was no wonder Nate had waited awhile to divulge the information. Hell, he probably shouldn’t have told them at all.

  “Sucks for you,” I murmured, meaning it. “I’m glad I’m not related to that freak.”

  Nate snorted out a laugh. “Are you referring to Tony or The General?”

  I chuckled, then sobered. “The General. Tony’s not that bad.”

  Nate nodded. “What are your plans now? You staying here a while longer?” The other dregs wanted me gone, and I didn’t blame them. They had tolerated my presence this far because of Hazel. If it weren’t for my daughter, I was certain they would have killed me by now.

  “I’m leaving soon. I promise.”

  Nate cleared his throat. “It’s probably better that way. If I don’t see you before you take off, good luck, man.” He held out his hand.

  I clasped his hand and shook it. In Nate, I would always have a friend, and he was telling me that now.

  “Thanks man. I appreciate it.”

  I turned away, heading to my apartment to check on Hazel. If all went well, soon I would be leaving this place. Leaving my dreg brothers behind.

  Never to return.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Anna

  I arrived at the school parking lot fifteen minutes before midnight, wanting to have time to scope the place out and make sure I was the first one there in case someone else decided they wanted the nanny job. Since my car was nearly out of gas, I’d walked the few blocks to the school, not wanting to waste the little bit of fuel that was left in it. I might need that gas to get me out of the city if circumstances became too dire.

  I’d brought a weapon with me—a small pocket knife I’d borrowed from a homeless man at the shelter. It wasn’t much, and I wasn’t even sure if I could use it on someone if threatened, but its presence in my hand made me feel safer.

  The parking lot was empty save for two abandoned cars—an old beater Ford truck and a nondescript Honda with a flat tire. I steered clear of the vehicles in case someone was hiding behind them, and slipped up quietly to peer around a light pole on the corner where I had a full view of the parking lot. The light flickered on and off, ready to burn out, filling the parking lot with an eeriness that made my heart pound. I remained hiding behind the pole for several minutes, waiting to see if anyone else showed up, flicking my gaze to the cars and back.

  The night was silent. Not a soul stirred.

  Had I been a fool to come here?

  Five minutes passed.

  Ten.

  Fifteen.

  I glanced around nervously. Should I leave? Had the ad been nothing more than a prank? Would a rapist jump out of the darkness and haul me away?

  The light flickered again, momentarily shrouding me in darkness.

  And then I felt him.

  Silent as a stalking panther, he’d moved up behind me, a terrifying threat in the dark.

  I spun around, my knife held out in front of me.

  He towered over me, a dark, dangerous presence in the otherwise still night.

  A gasp emerged from my throat.

  My heart pounded, harder, faster.

  “Stay back!” I warned.

  The light above flickered back on. I stared up into a face that was hidden in shadows beneath a black hoodie. I couldn’t make out his features in the semi-darkness, but he oozed danger like a coiled cobra waiting to strike.

  “You here for the job?” A deep, raspy voice asked.

  I swallowed hard. What was wrong with his voice? It didn’t sound normal. It vibrated with a raspy scratchiness that was a little eerie.

  “That
d-depends,” I whispered, never taking my eyes off him. “Are you the one looking for a nanny?”

  His hard stare pierced me through the darkness.

  “I am. But you’re awfully young,” he murmured.

  The light flickered off again.

  Then, he was gone. Just like that.

  I blinked. What the…?

  “I was anticipating an older woman, mid-fifties, with years of experience with children.”

  He materialized off to my right, a frightening shroud of darkness.

  I jumped, gasping again, my hand flying to my throat.

  “I have experience,” I blurted. Just because I was young didn’t mean I was inexperienced. “My last job was a nanny to two children, ages seven and four. I worked for them for over two years before the gang wars forced them to move west. Here...” I held out my letter of recommendation. “It’s a letter of recommendation from my last employer. It’s a little worn because it’s my only copy, but it’s legit. And I’m not that young.”

  He snatched the paper from my hand. Silence stretched as he looked it over, then stuffed it in the front pocket of his jeans. His steady perusal bored into me through the darkness.

  “How old are you?”

  I lifted my chin. “Twenty-two.” I stared up into his face that was still obscured by the hoodie, trying to make out his features but not having much luck. His eyes looked lighter, maybe blue or green, but it was too hard to tell in the darkness. I think he sported a few days growth of dark beard stubble, but again, it was hard to tell. It might just be a shadow from his hoodie.

  He let out a soft grunt. “Young.” He sighed. “I guess you’ll have to do since no else has shown up. But I’m not the final decision maker here. My daughter is the one you have to impress.”

  I nodded slowly. So he was the father. His daughter was the one I would be taking care of, so apparently, she was the one who would make the decision whether or not to hire me. Would she like me?