Chapter 7

Much to Benson’s chagrin, I was able to meet Ryland again. I told him there was no point in delaying the fight. The men were eager to spill Sawyer’s blood, and if it wasn’t offered soon, he could be dealing with a riot, if not a mutiny.

Both Benson and Ryland scowled at the accusation that the captain’s leadership could be questioned, but I wasn’t even lying. For the last two hours, two dozen Stray Dogs sweated rage and sharpened blades, each one more eager than the next to slice Sawyer to ribbons. The Stray Dogs were ruthless in their methods of persuasion, and they constantly sought distraction.

I assumed the only reason Sawyer was still alive was because Ryland told them what he was planning for the next Crater challenge. They were waiting there now, each of them eager to literally rip a strip off of Sawyer. 

While there were few lights to guide me, I veered away from the main tunnel leading to the Crater and turned to the one on the left, where we held prisoners.

This space wasn’t usually occupied. On some scavenging missions, the Stray Dogs would find someone with a tough spirit or a precious skill that they believed would benefit the Clan. They would be brought back, usually kicking and screaming. Ryland ordered them into the cages to break them. It didn’t take more than a few days of beatings and starvation to change their attitude. Anyone who refused to break was thrown in the Crater for entertainment. 

As I came around the corner that would lead into the small cavern, I heard voices arguing. I pressed my back to the wall and peered around the corner. 

The only light came from the single lamp on a crate in the corner. It was still bright enough for me to see what was going on. 

Sitting in the middle of the room in an iron cage, looking impossibly bored and irritated, was Sawyer. His hands were unbound and wrapped around his stomach, but he didn’t seem to be sweating or gritting his teeth. Hopefully that meant the stab wounds Ryland gave him weren’t very deep. Puncture wounds aside, he didn’t look much worse than the last time I saw him, though the bruises on his face were as dark as the circles under his eyes. Any sleep he might have wanted was denied to him, thanks to the ranting and raving Dog in front of him.

I recognized his back before I saw his face. I nearly rolled my eyes. I suppose I should have expected Stanner to taunt our captive, but his animosity toward Sawyer was almost as pronounced as Ryland’s. And far more obnoxious.

Sawyer’s cutlass, flintlock pistol, and knife were resting at Stanner’s feet. Clearly in Sawyer’s view, but completely out of reach for him. 

But not for me.

Stanner kicked the cutlass. “Doubt a pretty boy likes you gets any use of that. You look like the kind that would retch if he smelled something his pretty nose didn’t like.”

Sawyer shrugged, his shoulders jutting against the top bars of the cage he was squeezed in. “Give me some credit. I can smell you from here and I haven’t thrown up yet.”

The Dog’s next kick went to the bars of Sawyer’s cage. The impact jarred his surroundings, but didn’t seem to hurt him. Not that Sawyer looked pleased.

I crept closer. Even in the dim light, Sawyer must have seen me approaching. He’d proved before that he had excellent eyesight when he caught me spying on him and Davy. Hopefully he took my silence as a sign that I was here to help him, not hurt him.

“You Kendrics think you’re so much better than the rest of us,” hissed Stanner. “But at least your father and brother did something worthy of remembering. They made names for themselves. Reputations to be feared. Tell me what you’ve done, boy, to make you worth more than the dirt on my feet.”

Sawyer’s eyes flashed with dark rage, but he covered it up quickly. I was in arm’s length of Stanner, who was too enraged to notice me. The darkness in Sawyer’s eyes reflected in his smile.

“Nothing yet. But I think you’ll be finding yourself worthy of the dirt pretty soon.”

Stanner narrowed his eyes with confusion, just as Sawyer’s eyes flicked over his shoulder to me. Stanner whirled around, practically walking into my swinging fist. He spun in a full circle and dropped hard onto the ground.

“Ouch,” Sawyer remarked. “Don’t think he’ll forgive you for that one.”

Ignoring him, I knelt down and searched Stanner for the key to the cell. I found it in his pocket and removed it, along with all of his weapons. I even found a pair of brass knuckles that Stanner had probably intended to use on Sawyer in the Crater. They were ugly, crude things, but they were tough and heavy, and would fit my fingers. Perfect adornment for the punches I’d undoubtedly have to throw to get out of here.

Sliding the brass knuckles into my pocket for now, I used Stanner’s key to open the lock on the cage door and stepped back so Sawyer could get out.

A loud roar carried through the door, coming from the Crater. The Runts and the Stray Dogs were getting restless and thirsty for blood. I strained to listen, tension leaving my muscles once I realized that Ryland was riling up the Stray Dogs to prepare them for the fight. He was telling them what would happen, to reserve their energy so they enjoyed the slaughter to the fullest extent. I turned to see if Sawyer was ready to leave.

The tip of his cutlass nearly skewered my throat.

He stood there, fully dressed in his Marauder gear, all of his weapons buckled tightly to his body, the bruises and scrapes on his face and body adding to his dangerous appearance. Sawyer’s eyes were hard and burning, no hint of mercy to be found in them.

I sighed. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” I grumbled.

He smirked, making his gold eyes spark with trouble. “Guess you shouldn’t be.”

I couldn’t think of saying anything to say to that. After all, I gave him access to his weapons assuming he’d be grateful. But once a marauder, always a marauder. That would never change, especially not for a Kendric. 

“You’ll have to sneak along the walls once you get up the tunnel. There will be a blonde woman waiting in the slave den, distracting the Dogs for you. Try to get her out if you can.”

It was going to be harder for him and Sonya to escape, but hopefully he would find a way to do so. I could die thinking she made it out of this place. If my thought turned out to be a lie… Well, at least I wouldn’t be alive to regret it.

“You expect me to sneak out with your girl in front of all the Stray Dogs?”

“She’s not my girl, and it’s not like you’re giving me a choice with a sword at my throat.”

He paused. “You think I’m going to kill you?”

“Obviously you’re not holding the sword for show. So get it over with. You’re running out of time.”

But Sawyer didn’t move. I was halfway to grabbing him and throwing him out of the room, blade or not.

“You’re still going to let me leave,” he stated. “Knowing you’re going to die, either by my hand or your captain’s. Knowing who I am.” He stared at me. “Tell me why.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Sawyer’s eyes were deadly serious. “Yes. It does.”

I wanted to scream with frustration, but he made it clear he wouldn’t budge until I told him my reasoning.

“Because I’m done with this,” I said, deciding to give him the short, to-the-point truth. “I’m done being used, done living in the dirt, done fighting for my life so some lowlifes can be entertained. I will never subject anyone to what happened to me, no matter what their name. So kill me if you want. One way or another, I’m getting away from this.”

Sawyer’s gold eyes traced mine, though I didn’t know what he was looking for. My patience wore thinner with every passing second. The more I waited, the more I was tempted to leave him to his fate.

Then his expression changed. “Well then,” he lowered the sword, “I’ll let you lead the way.”

I scowled and turned around, easing out of the cavern. The coast remained clear, though I doubted it would be for long. Ryland knew the anticipation for the fight would drive the men over the edge, and he would have to give in to their protests soon. 

I looked at Sawyer. “Stay behind me, as close to the wall as you can. I don’t know how many of them have stayed behind and how many are at the Crater.”

“The fighting pit?”

I sighed. “Yeah.”

He paused. “Sounds like you’re familiar with it.”

“Too familiar,” I muttered.

Sawyer stayed silent as we walked through the earthy tunnel. I was grateful for the quiet, that the shouts from the cavern with the Crater weren’t too enraged yet, but I should have assumed that Sawyer wasn’t finished with his questions. 

“Where’s your girl?” he asked.

“She’s not my girl,” I reminded him. “She’s waiting for us.”

“Assuming she doesn’t freak out and warn the entire cave of murderous pirates before we get five feet–”

I spun around and pinned him with a glare. “She’s not going to betray us. She wants out of here just like you. Maybe even more so. Now can you shut up long enough for me to save your life?”

Sawyer scowled, clearly more used to giving orders than taking them. Still, he waved his hand to indicate I could proceed. 

I rolled my eyes. As if I needed his permission. 

I picked up my pace and started into the Alpha den. My heart pounded as I glanced around the corner, not sure how many Stray Dogs lingered inside. Gut instinct told me they’d all tripped over themselves to get to the Crater and witness the beating of a lifetime, but I had to be sure.

Relief filled me when I saw that my instincts were true. The Alpha den was as empty as I’d ever seen it. Even the guards standing outside of Ryland’s office were gone, the targets of Sonya’s distraction. Since the crates and supplies were left unguarded, I assumed that the Runts were also crammed into the space over the Crater.

As I thought about that terrible space in the dirt, the shouts became sharper. More aggressive. Still too far to be an actual problem, but time was running out. I glanced back through the entrance we used, catching a glimpse of Sawyer. He had a stern, grim expression on his face; his jaw set so hard I thought it would break. Either he was feeling every ounce of pain inflicted on his body, or his heart was pounding the same as mine. Hard and rapid, like the desperate fist of a living man trapped in a coffin six feet under ground. 

Sawyer’s warning flared through my mind again when I didn’t see Sonya waiting for us, but I quickly crushed it. I knew Sonya. She was a good person. He was just a bitter cynic who probably didn’t trust anyone.

I kept moving around the curved walls of the den, glancing at the closed door of the private room where I planned with Sonya just hours ago. Was something wrong? Breaking Sawyer out hadn’t taken all that long, but I expected her to be finished at the same time I was. I could hear nothing beyond the cheap wood. I repeated my mantra; that she hadn’t done anything to betray us—that she couldn’t have because I would have seen her running to the Crater—but the shouts from the fighting pit were getting out of control. I stopped in place.

“What are you doing?” Saywer asked from behind me. “Let’s go,” 

“No,” I said firmly. “Not without Sonya.”

His sigh was audible and exasperated. “We can’t. You forget that every single person in that room wants to kill me?” He pointed his finger at the exit, where the Dogs and Runts were shouting. “You think they’re going to give you a slap on the wrist when they find out you helped me? We can’t–”

The door on my left opened. Sawyer and I tensed and slipped into fighting stances. 

Sonya exited, closing the door behind her.  She clasped the buttons of her top together and looked up. She halted when she saw us. Her gaze caught mine first, but lingered and widened on Sawyer. I’m sure she was expecting someone a little rougher around the edges, and while he wasn’t looking his best covered in dirt, bruises and blood, he still had a face that probably got him a lot of attention from the fairer sex. I doubted Sawyer would ever find himself struggling for a woman.

I cleared my throat. Sonya turned her gaze back to mine.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She nodded. “I put the last of the morphine in the wine. They should be asleep for a while.”

I nodded, turning to Sawyer with a sharp look. I’d never doubted her. Apparently, trust was a huge issue for him. No doubt he knew what Sonya had to do to help in her escape. He didn’t grimace with disgust or give her a lecherous grin. He nodded gratefully and gave her a small smile.

His tawny eyes flicked to me. “What’s the next step in this elaborate, back-stabbing plan?”

I glowered at him. “Run.”

I turned toward the main tunnel leading out of the den, Sawyer and Sonya following close behind me. As soon as we entered the main network, the shouts finally became violent.

I froze, wondering if Stanner had woken up. I listened more carefully, and the sound didn’t seem to be getting closer. Yet. 

Though the Dogs were done waiting their fight in the Crater.

Unwillingly, I remembered the first time I heard those shouts. My initiation, Ryland said. To prove myself a man. He forgot to mention the pain, blood, and fear that came with being in the Crater. As though it wouldn’t have mattered to a thirteen-year-old boy whose life had been shattered by monsters. As if I should be grateful that the Crater would make me stronger.

“Nash,” whispered Sonya. 

I ripped my gaze away from the noise and started moving again, aware that both Sonya and Sawyer were watching me anxiously. But I didn’t stop to consider their thoughts. I wasn’t going to spend another second looking in the direction of what would soon become my past. I was the one pushing us to leave, and it was past time I took my own advice.

I picked up the pace as we marched through the tunnels, constantly looking around the corners to make sure they were clear until we reached the Runts den. I held up a hand to hold Sonya and Sawyer back. Carefully, I peered around the corner to see how many slaves were inside.

It was empty, the Runts possibly at the Crater with their masters. They must have thought Ryland was being generous to let them watch or engage in the fight. A few of them might have been victimized by the Kendric Clan. At the very least, this would be their night to be treated as equals rather than slaves.

In all honesty, I was a little sad to leave them behind. I would have tried to save them too if I could.

Pulling away from the tunnel corner, I broke into a jog and entered the Runts’ den. Once we got out of this area, it would be a quick run to the main tunnels, then out of the underground, across the Barren, and into the ruins of the city.

It seemed so simple. Luck was on our side.

I should have known something would go wrong.

We all but walked into the three big men with long barrelled rifles when we neared the exit. We skidded to a stop, as shocked to see them as they were us. Their confused glances went to me, then my companions. They gaped when it fell together for them, and I cursed myself.

I’d been so busy worrying about Sawyer and Sonya and the Stray Dogs in the tunnel, I forgot to even consider the possibility that the snipers would come down from the barracks wall to watch the fight.

I sprang into action while they were stunned, snapping a kick into the middle man’s chin. His head rocked back and his arms wind-milled, batting against his friends. I lunged forward and grabbed the sniper on the right by the shirt collar. He swung the rifle butt at my head, and I quickly raised my left arm to block him. The impact stung my arm, but I had enough strength to whip a quick jab into his temple.

The hit left him dazed, and it was no effort to pry the gun from his hands. By then he regained his alertness and shot his fist at my head. I ducked the punch but couldn’t avoid his knee when it rammed into my stomach.

I backed up into the wall just in time to see the first man I attacked come up on my right. His fist was pulled back, his eyes as furious as the snarl on his lips.

Shoving my current opponent away from me, I grabbed the first man’s arm as it flew out and yanked him forward. He staggered as my fist plowed into his cheek. I threw a hard uppercut into his chin and drove my elbow into his chest, forcing him away.

The other sniper I’d been fighting roared and barrelled forward, hands reaching for my neck. I raised my hands, ready to fight him before–

Sawyer’s arm quickly looped around his neck and squeezed. The sniper choked as his head was drawn back. Sawyer’s fists brutally pounded the sniper’s back and kidneys, making him wince in pain. The sniper wrenched around to fend off his attacker. A savage right hook slammed into his jaw instead.

I concentrated on my second enemy, who was coming back to tackle me into the ground. I twisted and crouched, planting my feet and catching his arms instead of falling. We seesawed with locked arms until I kicked the inside of his leg. He barked with pain and buckled, putting his skull in perfect range of my knee.

I felt the jolt of bone against bone throughout my whole leg, but the Stray Dog was out cold. I tossed him aside and looked at Sawyer.

The other two marauders were lying on the ground, unconscious next to their rifles. Sawyer was breathing hard and gritting his teeth, but he didn’t seem to have any new cuts or bruises. I had to give credit where it was due– he was smaller than me, than most marauders, but he was quick and skilled. His eyes fixed on me and I nodded my respect.

Rather than mock or ignore me like I thought he would, Sawyer nodded in return. His gaze turned from me to the ground where the rifles were. He immediately walked to them and started cracking open the stocks. He plucked out the bullets and set the bent barrels on the ground. Placing one foot on the barrel, Sawyer wrenched the gun violently. It didn’t break in half, but enough damage was done that it would be impossible for the Dogs to pick up the gun and shoot us in the back, even if they reloaded. 

I turned my attention to Sonya.

“Are you all right?”

She stared at the bodies crumpled on the floor. Sonya had never seen the actual Crater fights– only their aftermath.

“Sonya.”

She looked up at the sound of her name, quickly coming out of her daze and focusing on us. During the silence, I heard the agitated shouts of the crowd. Agitation that quickly turned into outrage. A spark of panic filtered into my heart. I swore I heard Stanner shout.

“Come on!” I hissed urgently, starting down the tunnel. I let Sonya and Sawyer run in front of me, glancing over my shoulder as the harsh, bellowing voices carried through the darkness at our backs. I fumbled in my pockets and pulled out the brass knuckles. I slid them over my fingers, hoping they would give me the edge I needed. 

Sawyer slowed down a couple minutes later when he spotted the rusted ladder that would connect us to the trap door to enter the Barren’s surface. 

Instead of climbing first, Sawyer stepped aside, drawing his cutlass and his flintlock. His eyes targeted Sonya.

“Go,” he growled.

She jumped at the chance to follow his orders. I backed up to the ladder, watching the shadows flash to life as the light bulbs sputtered against the wooden support beams. Maddened shouts and curses surrounded me, reverberating off the walls and filling me with dread. 

“Your turn,” Sawyer commanded. His eyes never left the shadows. 

I grabbed the edge of his jacket and swung him toward the ladder. He grunted in surprise and shoved me away. I matched his glare with a hard one of my own.

“Don’t make this all for nothing,” I told him. “Get moving.”

That angry bristle filled his eyes again. He really, really, didn’t like to be told what to do. A trait all marauders seemed to share.

Knowing we couldn’t spend any more time arguing, Sawyer holstered his weapons and started up the ladder. He scrambled like a pack of ravenous wolves were on his tail. I would have laughed at the relevance of my thought if I didn’t think those same wolves were going to rip pieces out of me. 

Sawyer and Sonya argued over my head as they worked to move the heavy trap door. I saw the dull orange glow of a lantern bobbing back and forth as the Stray Dogs approached. I could hear everything being said now.

“He can’t be far!”

“Traitor took the whore, too!”

“Son of a bitch, I’m gonna kill him!”

“Nash!” Sonya called.

I whirled on my heel and clambered up the ladder. It was a little awkward with the brass knuckles surrounding my fingers, but I moved fast, even though I knew that the Stray Dogs would see me before I reached the surface. The best we could hope for was close the trap door over their heads and run to cover before the Dogs opened it again.

And that there were no other snipers patrolling the wall to gun us down.

I pushed those thoughts to the very back of my mind when I reached the open door. I crawled out from the underground and leaped onto the hard concrete surface of the Barren. I twisted around, grabbed the iron rings of the door and slammed it down. It closed with a satisfying thunk, buying us at least a little more time.

When I got to my feet, the first thing my eyes fixed on was the top of the crumbling stone walls of the barracks. The dimness the grey sky told me it was daylight. I scanned the watchtowers for hidden snipers, but there didn’t appear to be any. The only watchful gaze was the Behemoth, sitting lazily in the clouds it poisoned with heavy black smoke pouring past the rudder. 

“Go!” I shouted to my companions. They needed little encouragement. 

We sprinted as fast as we could for the collapsed part of the wall, the same one I’d taken when I left on Ryland’s mission. Right now, we were trapped in wide- open space. Our backs were exposed to any Stray Dog bullet if they got out of the tunnels and into the Barren. Once we made it into Westraven’s collapsed ruins, there would be places we could hide until the Stray Dogs gave up the chase.

If they did. I had no idea how Ryland would take this betrayal, especially since he lost the chance to give a beating to a Kendric, something he’d wanted to do for over a decade. What he would do to Sonya and me after… the possibilities were too awful to think about. I imagined there would be plenty of bloodshed and endless screams.

Don’t think like that, I told myself. We’ve got the head start. We’ll keep it. Just run. Don’t stop. 

Sawyer took the lead, swivelling his head left and right as though to assure himself there were no threats when he approached the crumbling wreckage of the wall. He scrambled up the fallen stones easily, dodging rebar that stuck out of the stone like spears. I’d heard Ryland say he was thinking about turning the rebar into a wall of spikes to keep intruders out, maybe even lining part of it with explosives, and I was glad he chose not to do so yet. Having my legs blown off would seriously have impacted my dreams of escape. The dream that was finally coming true. 

Sonya picked up her skirts and had a little more trouble moving up the stones. I noticed then that she didn’t have any shoes on. The soles of her feet would be hardened from living in underground with the other Runts, but the sharp stones would still cut her skin mercilessly. I climbed up beside her and grabbed her hand, steadying her as she staggered over the rubble. I helped her onto the crest and continued navigating her down. My heart thundered about my chest, survival instincts screaming for me to let her go and run! But I had to know she would be safe. Sonya wasn’t a warrior like Sawyer, or a brutal champion fighter like me. Which was why keeping her alive was so important to me.

She stumbled on her feet and lifted her head. Then she stopped completely. I was about to pull her along, tell her that we had to leave, but the expression on her face stopped me. Absolute fear consumed Sonya. Her hand shivered in my grip. Her mouth was open, as though she were seconds away from screaming. I followed her gaze, barely noticing that Sawyer had gone rigid as well.

As soon as my eyes found the grotesque ship dangling in the sickened sky, I understood. 

Three black shapes peeled out from under the lower half of the Behemoth. They hovered in the air, then turned and pivoted in our direction.

Hellion skiffs. In the daylight.

Coming straight for us.