Daniel Reed fought for his life.
But he knew, even as he ducked the blow meant for his face, that the three boys who dragged him out here wouldn’t stop until he lay bleeding at their feet.
He decided to make it as difficult as possible.
“Is that the best you can do, Mandore?” Tomas Hurdy, the obvious instigator, taunted the tall boy who had just taken the swing at Daniel. “My baby sister can throw a better punch.”
I bet she can.
Daniel stumbled backward over ground left ridged and uneven by the terra machines. Hurdy probably came out of the womb punching.
Hurdy barreled toward Daniel, all two hundred plus pounds of him. Daniel waited until the last possible moment and leaped sideways. Hurdy roared past him, tripped on a rock-hard ridge, and slammed face first into the dirt.
Daniel spun around, knowing that retaliation would be swift, and probably fatal—and ran smack into his third tormentor. Trevor Harp—someone he’d thought was his friend.
Before he could escape, Trevor grabbed his right arm and wrenched it up behind his back. The pain nearly doubled him.
“Good job, Trev.” Hurdy dusted off his shirt as he stood. “Now hold him still.”
Through a blur of pain, Daniel saw the long, curved knife appear in Hurdy’s right hand. Panic lent him strength and he struggled to free himself. Trevor tightened his grip, caught Daniel’s left wrist, leaving him completely defenseless.
Hurdy buried the knife in Daniel’s left arm, just below the elbow.
Daniel screamed, agony exploding through him. The knife was iron—and would keep him from healing the wound himself.
“Shut him up!” Hurdy hissed. Trevor obeyed and let go of Daniel’s right arm, reaching up to cover his mouth. The returning blood flow was a small pain compared to the fire raging down his left arm. Hurdy followed with the blade, opening his forearm to the wrist.
“That’s a good start.”
Daniel screamed again when Hurdy yanked out the knife. Blood poured down his hand, pooling on the hard packed dirt. What was left of his strength ran out with the blood and he collapsed against Trevor.
“I think that’s enough,” Trevor said, his voice quiet. He let go of Daniel’s mangled arm and caught him around the waist, holding him upright. “We were not told to kill him, Tom.”
“Well, I guess the rabble got carried away. Walk now, Trev, if you don’t have the stomach. I’m going to cut on him a while, make up some for what his high and mighty father took from mine.”
Daniel swallowed, heart pounding. Hurdy Senior had stolen from Father, lied about it, and been punished severely. Now he was about to pay for his father’s rash decision to make the older Hurdy an example.
Mandore moved in, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Tom, I don’t think—”
Hurdy turned on him. “You losing your nerve, too?” Daniel knew he wasn’t meant to survive this—not with Hurdy using iron on him, and throwing around names. Names Daniel recognized. “Wouldn’t you do the same if you had the chance? Self-righteous bastard had no call—”
“She did not authorize this,” Trevor said.
“Just shut your mouth!” Hurdy raised the bloody knife, the point inches from Trevor’s face. Trevor flinched, but he didn’t pull away. “You hear me, Trev—I’m in charge. She put me in charge—”
“Why?” Daniel’s raw whisper cut through the tirade.
Hurdy smiled, and instead of using the knife again, he flipped the pendant Daniel wore out of the way and dug the sharp edge of his garnet signet ring into the left side of Daniel’s chest.
Daniel tried to jerk away. One hand fisted in his hair, halted his retreat.
“Since you’ll be dead,” Hurdy tightened his grip, “you don’t need to know.” He slowly dragged his ring across Daniel’s skin, leaving a jagged trail of pain before he finally let go.
“I didn’t sign up for this.” Mandore backed out of knife range as he spoke. “You kill him outright, you do it on your own.”
“Run home, little girl. I can finish this myself.”
Mandore disappeared into the dark.
“I won’t leave him alone with you, Tom.” Trevor lowered Daniel to the ground, surprisingly gentle. Every movement still tore through him. “We followed orders. He can’t heal that wound. If we go now, he’ll bleed out before anyone can find him—”
“Not this close to the damn gate. Take this,” Hurdy shoved the heavy, protective scabbard on the blade and tossed the knife to Trevor. “Now get his legs.”
Daniel understood their plan without further explanation. They meant to leave him on the far side of the wasteland, framing those who lived behind the other barricade—the rabble, Hurdy always called them.
No one there would help the son of an Eternal.
Daniel clutched the ground with his good hand, fighting the panic that threatened to choke him. Hurdy grabbed his wrist, and Daniel played his last desperate card. He threw dirt straight at Hurdy’s eyes.
“AHHHHH!” Hurdy stumbled backward, clawing at his face.
Trevor leaned over him, pulled the scarf from around his neck and carefully started to wrap Daniel’s arm. He sucked in his breath at the contact.
“You need to keep yourself alive,” Trevor whispered. “I’ll send help when I can.”
“Why—” Talking hurt. Who was he kidding—breathing hurt. “Why would you—help.”
“Because this is not what I was told would happen when I agreed to lure you out here.” He glanced behind him. “You weren’t supposed to die.”
“Not—dead yet.”
A smile touched his mouth.
“I plan on keeping you that way. So stop baiting Tom—”
“Get out of my way!” Hurdy shoved Trevor with such force he toppled backward. The eyes that stared down at Daniel were an angry red. “You just earned yourself a slow death.”
He backhanded Daniel. The blow stunned him, Hurdy’s ring cutting into his right cheek. When Hurdy grabbed both wrists and yanked him across the ground, agony jolted through him. He fought to breathe, losing the battle, until someone lifted his legs off the ground.
“Don’t start with me, Tom,” Trevor said. “It needs to look like he bled out near the barricades, not on the way there. You might as well put up a sign saying ‘we framed them.’”
“Fine,” Hurdy grunted, then dug his fingers into Daniel’s injured arm. Daniel let out a nearly soundless scream, his arm twitching under the assault.
“Did you leave your brain at home?” Trevor eased Daniel’s legs down. “Let him go. Now.” Hurdy obeyed, and dropped Daniel to the ground. He curled around his screaming arm, ignoring the burst of pain from the cut on his chest. “Daniel.” Trevor crouched beside him and laid one hand on his drawn up knee. It took all of his control not to recoil. “I’m going to pick you up. Don’t fight me.”
After a moment, he nodded, knowing he had no choice.
Trevor eased him to his back, slid one arm under his knees, the other under his shoulders, and lifted him with no effort. Daniel inched his right arm up, around Trevor’s neck, and focused on staying conscious.
The journey across the wasteland shredded what strength he had left. By the time Trevor settled him into a small depression, too far from the iron fences to call for help, taking in a breath cost him.
“Satisfied?” Hurdy sneered at Trevor, arms crossed.
“We’d better go.” Trevor ignored him, standing. “The sun will be up soon. No final shots, Tom. You can go first.” Trevor waited until he stalked past, heading for home. “Hold on, Daniel. I’ll be back for you as soon as I can.”
Daniel swallowed and nodded, then closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to watch the one person who knew where he was, the one person who might care, walk away.
The depression he lay in was just deep enough to hide him. He had to make himself visible, or die here. Alone.
Father’s voice broke through the pain—a remnant of the last conversation they had, after Mother publicly humiliated him. Again.
“Never give up, my son. Your strength is greater than you know, much greater than your mother credits. Believe, and you will do what you need.”
That memory produced enough adrenaline to get his right arm under him. He levered himself up, pushing to his knees before he had to stop and rest.
Every breath drove a sharp pain through his chest, and that scared him almost as much as the fact that every breath became harder to take.
Two feet.
He braced his right hand on the ground.
I only have to move two feet.
He shifted forward—and let out a hoarse cry when his left arm convulsed. Agony buckled him. With the last of his strength, he twisted to land on his back, the impact almost knocking him out.
Endless minutes later, his body finally stilled, pain an unbearable weight on his chest. He stared up at the sky, sucked in a shallow breath that only made his lungs ache for more, and watched the stars blink out, one by one.