Page 76 of Degradation

“And we don’t have to put ourselves at risk for the likes of him.” Malik states.

Gunther blinks, like it’s the first time he’s ever been told no in his life. “What did you say?” He splutters.

“You heard.” Malik replies. “That man is excommunicated. We all know what that means, what the consequences are. If you’re willingly to turn a blind eye, that’s your prerogative, but we have rules, as Chapter Guards, we have clear, defined instructions.”

Gunther launches himself at Malik. The movement clearly catches the Commander off guard, and he stumbles back. Gunther manages to get one good blow in before Lyle and Curtis are pulling him off.

It’s a shit show. Guthrie pulls himself into the mix, kicking, snarling, punching whoever he can get hold of.

Those of us watching are torn between our loyalty to Gunther and our need to follow the rules that have been beaten and instilled into us for the last god knows how long. But the longer this goes on, the longer this is turning to anarchy.

“Car’s ready.” I bark, choosing an option that might defuse, or that might do fuck all.

I grab hold of Lyle, shoving him out the way, and with one hand, I create a scruff of fabric at the back of Gunther’s neck. I pull him free, pushing him past the chaos and as the other guards see, the fight fizzles out to nothing.

We get outside while Gunther is still shouting about insubordination and treason, and I wonder if this is all going to get far worse once we reach the Palace.

Guthrie is hot on our heels, jeering him on, shouting that every treacherous one of us should be strung up by our balls.

I don’t react; I just keep moving Gunther onwards.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement catches my eye where there should be none. Instinct takes over as I recognise the threat, the flash of metal; it’s a gun barrel emerging from the shadows.

I don’t think twice, I don’t hesitate for a second. I throw myself on top of Gunther, my body shielding his as a bullet whizzes past.

The sound echoes off the high stone walls, and it’s followed by the chaotic clamour of all the guards rushing to find the attacker. Rushing to secure the scene.

In the heart of this pandemonium, Gunther starts shouting, screaming, fighting too. Does he think I’m the one trying to kill him? Does he think that all of this is a set up? I hold him down, struggle with the mass of his body, despite my own size, and it takes almost all my strength to keep the bastard out of harms way.

Another bullet streaks past us. It cuts so close I can hear the sound of it screeching in my ears.

Gunther starts sobbing, pleading, saying that he doesn’t want to die, but if the bastard simply shut the fuck up and did as he was told then I’d ensure that didn’t happen.

Ahead, one of our men fall, it’s Lyle. A bullet lodges in his chest, and his eyes stare out in shock and surprise as he hits the floor like a dead lump.

Curtis takes another, stumbles and falls, clutching his leg where blood is now pouring out. It’s a flesh wound, at least it should be.

I spot the armoured car, spot my moment, and I toss Gunther over my shoulder like he’s a baby. I sprint as fast as I can go, wrench the door open, and shove his mass inside.

“Go.” I order.

“Wait…” Guthrie’s voice carries behind us.

The driver looks to Gunther, and he shakes his head, “Fuck him.” Gunther says, like he didn’t just start an entire fucking brawl over his damned brother.

“Go.” I repeat, slamming the door, watching as it speeds off.

Devin

“You’re wanted.”

I don’t react beyond an internal sigh. I knew this was coming. Knew there’d be recompense. I all but kidnapped the bastard, didn’t I? Although he got back safe, he got back unharmed despite himself.

I put the pistol down, place the oil beside it and get to my feet. Cleaning my gun has always given me a sense of calm. It’s methodical. Logical. I don’t need to think, I don’t need to organise myself. I just move on automatic. It’s grounding, I guess. And it silences the whispers, silences the noise. Silences everything.

As I get up, I note Malik is stood by the door, his right eye swollen from where Gunther punches him. I see a few others sat around nursing bruises, nursing other injuries from the fight. No one has spoken about it, no one has said a word, and yet, we’re all more than aware that we crossed a line today. That Gunther was the one goading, and yet, when push came to shove, we didn’t follow ‘our duty’, we did the exact opposite.

What will happen next time? What will happen when Gunther decides to turn his mania on us? There’s no way we’ll be ignored, no way we’ll be spared. He’s hurt enough slaves, enough servants, he’s tortured his bitch of a wife to the point that she’s practically catatonic.