New World Ashes (8 page)

My body recoiled as it burst into the brilliant lights, my retinas searing as they tried to adjust. I barely caught sight of the glinting silver uniforms patrolling the area before my feet collided with something heavy on the ground. There was an exhilarating moment of freedom as my body became airborne, but as quickly as the euphoric feeling began, it vanished. The concrete met my body with shattering force. I could feel each collision—each mind-jarring connection—as my individual body parts collided with the ground. When the shocks of pain finally stopped, I lay still unable to move. My fingertips were the first things to regain sensation. I scraped them over the rough surface. It felt oddly warm. I pulled my hand away from the concrete. It was slick. I blinked into the haze of white. Something was going in and out of focus, the oddly shaped blob blurring red and white. Slowly, my palm and fingers began to define themselves. My breath caught.

Blood.

Not only was my hand covered in the fresh vibrantly red blood, but it was all over my body, blotching my skin like a sick abstract painting. I gagged as the coppery tang suddenly overwhelmed me. I must have been shot. That was the only logical way to explain such an amount of blood. I pulled myself to my knees, waiting for the real pain to start.

My head swiveled idly toward whatever had tripped me and the world stopped.

It didn’t just stop. The entire universe imploded.

No… no it was not
my
blood…

My soul—if I still even had one—was being sucked into oblivion. The pain was greater than anything I had ever felt in my sad existence of a life. The ground seemed to fall away and the only sound I could hear was a cry like that of a dying animal.

The blood looked like a river flooding the pristine street. It was everywhere, but all I could see were the bodies.

Two bodies…

Two disfigured and damaged bodies… but I knew those bodies.

I knew them…

There was a larger, obviously male body and a smaller one next to it I couldn’t bear to look at. The larger body was turned, shielding the child next to him in their last moments.  I could feel the last piece of me splinter into nothingness as I stared at the larger body with the perfectly sandy hair. There was blood staining the sun-kissed locks like a grotesque Tribe statement. I knew those broad shoulders, those oddly gentle calloused hands…

Those hazel eyes that I would never see open again.

The screaming got louder as I thought his name.

Triven…

My eyes traced his body to the small brown head cradled in his arms. I couldn’t look any further—to see if her body too was riddled with bullets. I knew it would be. I couldn’t even think her name. I couldn’t handle any more.

The screams cut off as I retched. There was nothing in my stomach to throw up, but still my body convulsed and heaved as it tried to expel what it knew.

They were gone…

Just like my parents, they were gone. I could not survive this again, not this time. I felt it—my soul was dying. The vessel that was my body was just that—an empty container and nothing more. This is what it meant to be broken. This is what it meant to die inside.

I began to reach for the bodies, a perverse need somewhere deep within me that needed to know they were real. That had to touch them. My fingertips grazed the lifeless back of Triven’s jacket.

It was solid.

It was still warm.

The screams morphed into sobs of hysteria, the sound echoing in the square. A part of me could sense the soldiers around me moving away in fear or in shame. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. I began to crawl closer to the bodies. The only thing left in life I wanted was to lie down and die next to them, but someone stopped me.

Vise-like arms constricted around chest pinning my hands, dragging me to my feet. As he pulled me away from the bodies, I screamed and kicked and snapped at his arms, all coherent thought now gone. One large hand released me just long enough to slap my face so hard I saw an explosion of stars. My body went slack as my screams cut off. It was as if he had smacked the last bit of life out of me. Everything went numb. The man holding me grunted with the effort of holding my limp body upright.

Ryker’s cool voice swam in my ear. “Damn it
Princess
, you had better stand up or you’re going to regret it.”

His words meant nothing to me. He was speaking to air—to a hollow shell. It wasn’t until I heard the smooth, crooning voice that I found my feet again.

“You realize this is
your
fault, Prea.” The Minister appeared before me, his spotless white suit making him look like an apparition under the bright lights.  He leaned in to emphasize his words. “If you would have just done what I asked and given them to me, your little friends here wouldn’t have had to die.”

I lashed out, managing to free my unbroken arm. Ryker pulled me away just a fraction too slowly. Curving my hand like a claw, I slashed into Minister Fandrin’s face, leaving behind five angry red streaks that were already beading with blood. The Minister howled in rage as I continued to writhe in the Major’s arms.

Pressing his hand over his cheek The Minister glared at me. “Remember child, their blood is on
your
hands.” He pointed at the bodies next to us.

“Now, get her out of my face before I kill her myself.”

“Yes, sir.” Ryker barked.

A soon as Fandrin was no longer in sight I went limp again. Ryker half-dragged, half-carried me back to the transport vehicle. I didn’t notice if the other guards were still there. I didn’t even care if Gage was there or not. I didn’t care about anything. I didn’t exist anymore.

I was only half conscious when Ryker threw me back into my mobile prison. My head made a loud banging sound as it struck the metal floor, but I didn’t feel it.

I vaguely heard Ryker say, “Your chariot awaits,” before he slammed the doors and cast me into the darkness.

The floor hummed and the light came on. I stared at my unshackled hands. The loose chains bounced on the floor next to my head. They hadn’t even bothered to restrain me. I watched the shackles move, less out of interest and more out of the inability to look away. As my ear pressed deeper into the metal floor, an explosion painfully vibrated the surface beneath me. Then the chains and my arms were suddenly airborne. My entire body was floating through the open space of the empty container. Then it struck a surface. The world rolled, banged and exploded around me. I let gravity pull and push my body without opposition, barely acknowledging the cracking and splintering I felt as I collided with unending metal surface after unending metal surface. It was dark when it stopped.

I was no longer lying on the floor but on the ceiling of the truck, the barely flickering dome light pressing into my temple. I groaned, tilting my head in the direction of a sound coming from outside.

Without warning the doors sprang open. Two large shadows began to pull at me, dragging me away from the overturned transport vehicle.

There was fire engulfing the street and arms were lifting me. Someone was talking to me, but I didn’t care. I didn’t even fight or call out. Instead, I just closed my eyes and let the darkness take me.

Maybe it was Death’s arms, finally come to take me away. I hoped it was. Sometimes, it was better to be the ones who died, than the one left to live…

SOMETHING COOL TRICKLED
down the side of my face. The droplet trailed over my jaw line and behind my neck before being absorbed into the cushioned surface beneath me. The cold trail left a tingling sensation in its wake. It should have felt refreshing, good against my hot skin, but it didn’t… I felt nothing. I couldn’t remember what had happened or where I was. There was something lingering at the edge of the hazy fog. Something I should remember… something I didn’t want to. Tears were beginning to leak from under my closed eyelids.

There was something wrong… something had happened…
what was it?

A cooled surface touched my forehead as something else large and warm grazed my cheek. The result was like an electric shock. My body surged back to life as my hands flew out, knocking away whatever had touched me. There was a clattering and the startled sound of shuffling feet. It was a reflex. I was abruptly on my feet staring wildly about a dimly lit room. My heart pounded so hard against my chest it hurt.

The surface beneath my feet was padded, the springs of the bed squeaking as I shifted my weight. My arm felt lighter. Twisting my wrist, I was vaguely aware that the cumbersome cast was gone, as well as the pain. In fact, all of the pain was gone. The room blurred in and out of focus. When it finally cleared, I fell back against the wall with a cry of despair. I realized what had touched me. Unbridled horror trapped the scream rising in my throat.

A sandy-haired figure stood in front of me, his eyes bright.

I was staring at the boy I loved. The boy I had gotten killed.

Triven stared back at me.

Everything came rushing back. Everything I had done, everything I had lost—
My fault, all my fault—
and now it would haunt me forever. It was my hallucinations all over again. He looked slimmer than I remembered, his usually handsome face tired and pale. But I knew it was an illusion. My mind was punishing me for what I had done. Tearing my eyes away, I cast them down at myself. I was still wearing my dark prisoner’s uniform. Blood—his blood—stained the dark fabric.

I recoiled in defense as he took a step closer, halting him on the spot. I loved him, but I couldn’t take this anymore. I couldn’t stand to look at his face every day and know that I had caused his and Mouse’s deaths. Anger overwhelmed me. Hoping to make the specter vanish, I struck out, intending to sweep away his illusion.

Instead, the room echoed with a sharp smack as my hand met not air—as I had expected—but solid, warm flesh. I yanked my hand away, clutching it protectively to my chest. The palm was stinging. Triven’s face mirrored my own, shock and pain evident in his hazel eyes. There was a glowing patch of pink blossoming on his cheek.

“Prea?” His voice was honey, so much deeper and stronger than any of my hallucination’s had been.

I flung myself from the bed, slamming into his body. Triven’s arms wound around me, gathering me to his chest as his hands roamed over my body. They moved soothing my hair, tracing my face and holding me to him.

He was real. He was alive. Tears sprung to my eyes.

My fingers fumbled numbly around his waist, trying to pull him closer. They brushed against something hard and metal, the hilt of a gun. My hands jerked away from the weapon as the image of Triven’s and Mouse’s dead bodies flashed in my mind. I tangled my hands in his shirt, clinging to his chest, hardly able to stand on my own.

“You were…
dead
.” My voice broke on the last word. My chest constricted painfully. “Mouse?”

“She’s fine, perfectly safe. I sent her to get some rest. It wasn’t us…We tried… We didn’t know… I’m
so
sorry Prea.” He took a steadying breath, but whatever he was going to say never made it past his lips. The moment Triven’s mouth opened to continue, the door to our tiny room opened.

My heart stopped.

Standing in the doorway with blood running down the side of his face and a poorly applied bandage wrapping his head was Major Ryker James.

With no hesitation I shoved Triven. Spinning him out of the way, I unsheathed the gun from his belt and pointed it into the face of the Major. Unlike my aversion to touching the weapon earlier, my hands now curled eagerly around the gun like it was a long lost friend. I snarled and pulled the trigger just as something large knocked my arm sideways.

Ryker barely moved as the wall next to his head burst into tiny bits. The fragments scattering to the floor sounded like rain after the echoing thunder of the gunshot. I yanked my arm to fire again but something was holding my wrist, keeping the gun pointed safely at the floor. I stared incredulously at Triven’s iron grip on my wrist.

I pulled again trying to free myself.

“Let
go
of me! Do you have any idea who this is? WHAT HE HAS DONE!” I shrieked. Practically growling, I turned my rage on Triven only to find his hazel eyes full of guilt and confession.

“I know who he is. His name is Ryker James.” Triven’s hand loosened slightly on my wrist. “Prea, he’s the one who saved you.”

“Saved me?
SAVED
ME?!” Triven flinched as I screamed at him. “If you call electrocuting me until my heart stopped, breaking my arm nearly in half, starving me for days on end, and then making me think you were dead,
saving
me. Then I guess this man is one
hell
of a savior! I
must
owe him my life!”

I dropped the gun, letting it clatter to the floor and yanked my arm away. This time, Triven let me go.

“You have
no
idea
what hell I have been through! And
this
man…” I pointed a shaking finger at Ryker. “
This man
saw to every second of that torment!”

Despite myself, tears of anger and betrayal sprang to my eyes. I clenched my fists until the nails bit into my palms. I burned with desire to kill Ryker for what he had done to me. To hit Triven for letting it happen.

A multitude of emotions flashed across Triven’s face. Finally, his eyes hardened turning on the Major. “You
tortured
her?”

Ryker, who had remained silent during the entire exchange, finally shifted his weight. His eyes traced the floor, not able to meet ours as he spoke. “Regretfully, I must admit that I had a part to play in order to keep my cover. I played it well. Yet, everything I did—no matter how seemingly cruel at the time—was done to save your life.” Ryker now pulled himself up to full height, no longer looking apologetic. “You have every right to be angry with me for what I did to you Prea, but given the choice I would do it again. My calculated brutality kept you alive and without my protection, you would not have lived to see today. It was the same thing you did for those children.”

Ryker’s words hung in the air like a fine mist. I stared at the spot on the wall where the bullet had struck. I could feel both men’s gazes on me, waiting for me to make the next move. He was right, I did do the same thing to try and protect those kids. But
I
hated myself for it.

Pointedly, I marched up to Ryker, jutting out my chin as I closed the gap between us. It pleased me to see him flinch at my approach. My whole body shook with anger and emotional fatigue as I spoke. “I owe you
nothing
. Consider us even. You
literally
took my life from me once, and now you have given it back. We’re square.”

I strode past Ryker without a second glance and into the hall. It wasn’t until I was several steps down the dimly lit hall that I realized I had no idea where I was going. I paused. From behind me there was a gratifying thud of a fist meeting a face, followed by a muffled groan. I could just make out the low hiss of Triven’s words.

“I am grateful you brought her back to Mouse and me, but that is the
last
time you lie to either of us.”

Triven strode through the door rubbing his knuckles. He muttered something that sounded like, “Not even close to being square…”

Moving past me, he walked away down the empty hall expecting me to follow. I smiled faintly at the point between his shoulder blades.
Chivalry wasn’t always that bad.
After only a few steps, I reached for Triven’s arm, my gentle touch halting him in mid-stride.

“Triven… I have to see her. I have to know she’s…” I swallowed, unable to say the word
alive
aloud. As always, he understood.

Triven’s breathing was heavy as he glared over the top of my head down the hall. Ryker was undoubtedly standing there, watching us. Hesitating only briefly, Triven gestured to the hallway on his left, letting me walk ahead. His hand brushed against the lower part of my back as I stepped past him.

Once we were out of Ryker’s sight, Triven took the lead again, taking me to a door much like the one we had just left. Pressing his finger to his lips to request my silence, he soundlessly turned the handle and pushed the door inward. The room was dark, but the shapes of two beds were visible. One bed was perfectly made. In the other was a small lump breathing steadily. I could see a crown of brown hair peeking out on the pillow. I took a strangled breath. Mouse’s face was just as I remembered, perfect and unharmed. Peaceful even. A strange impulse overtook me. It was a nurturing desire to run to her, to touch her body, to hold her in my arms, and ensure that she was in fact safe and whole. I watched her deep breathing and pushed those feelings back down. My eyes lingered on Mouse for a moment longer, as if she would disappear when I blinked. Slowly, reluctantly, I stepped away. Nodding once, I pulled back from the dimly lit room and let Triven close the door again.

I looked gratefully at him. Triven touched my shoulder lightly in comfort and then began to walk back down the hallway again.

I followed, smiling sadly to myself. “When did she start sleeping
in
the beds?”

I remembered the little hands so often creeping around the edge of my cots as Mouse sought reassurance in the night from beneath me. It seemed a part of her had grown up in my absence. I had missed it. Triven’s hand reached back, seeking to reassure. I took it.

“She started sleeping like that the day we made a plan to get you out.”

“Thank you for protecting her.” I said staring at my hand in his. His fingers squeezed mine and we both fell silent again.

They’re alive…

Triven led me to another smaller room, not far down the narrow hallway. He pushed the door open for me and stepped back.

“I will wait
right
here.” He promised.

When I stepped into the room he pulled the door closed behind me, sealing me in. I turned abruptly and stared at the door. The room felt oddly suffocating but I couldn’t seem to make myself move. I knew I was in a bathroom. That Triven’s intent was meant to give me privacy, but I could feel that irrational fear rising. I didn’t want to be locked in. I didn’t want to be alone. I must have stood there for some time, frozen in panic. When I finally managed to move, there was a soft knock and the doorknob began to turn of its own accord. Triven’s voiced carried in before his face appeared in the crack.

“Prea, are you alright? I couldn’t hear the water running and just wanted…” He trailed off when his modest eyes at last met mine. The anger that had burned in them from our encounter with Ryker was gone, now only understanding and shame shone through.

I stared blankly at him, still marveling at his gentle face and unharmed body.
He’s safe. He’s still alive.
I reminded myself again. Even after witnessing with my own eyes that he and Mouse were alive, I could still see their dead bodies in the street. I could still feel their blood against my skin. It felt like every time I lost sight of Triven—even just for a moment—that this was all fake, that I would wake up and find them dead again. I wondered if that feeling would ever go away.

“I can’t…” There were no words to finish the sentence, or maybe it was that there were too many words to pick just one. Mercifully, he seemed to comprehend.

Moving swiftly, Triven slipped into the room and shut the door behind him. He locked the door before pulling me into his arms. I didn’t resist. Normally, he was so careful about not touching me, but right now neither he nor I cared about politeness. We both needed the physical contact to remind us this was real. I rested my head against the hollow of his chest. Slowly, my body began to thaw, melting into Triven’s as his steady heartbeat thudded solidly beneath my ear. He smelled good. He smelled real. Alive.

“You’re really alive.” I finally mumbled into his shirt, breaking the silence.

“
You’re
really alive.” He whispered into my hair, kissing the top of my head.

I clung to him as I stared blindly at the sink. “It was… The bodies were so…” I took a deep breath. “Who were they?”

Triven sighed sadly. “Two unfortunate citizens. Fandrin chose them because they looked like us. He murdered two innocent people because they fit a mold…
My
mold.” His arms tensed around me, both protective and angry.