Page 59

Bleak and Beautiful

I don't crawl between Jax and Drax where they have clearly left an open spot for me, I don’t deserve their comfort.

Instead, I curl up in the corner on top of my coat, my back to everyone.

I can’t see Thorn, but I know he must be somewhere around here, the thought that he couldn't even be in the same room as me has the tears falling again; the pain shooting through me until I have to hold in a whimper by biting my arm.

Slowly, as everyone else is asleep, I cry out my pain and rebuild myself once again.

I let the pain and horror turn to hate and anger.

It spurs me on, it follows me even into sleep, and I know for certain what I will do before I die. I will kill Ivar.

My sleep is restless, a mirage of horrors from my past running through my head like a fucked up film, the door that usually keeps them locked away from me stands thrown open, and I don’t know how to shut it.

Eventually, I give up trying to sleep, I slip out of the break room where all my men except Thorn are sleeping.

I pick my way through the others slumbering in the main room and ascend the metal staircase, slipping out of the door into the vantage point again.

I find Dr. Perfect Face––I really should bother to remember his name sometime––leaning against the windows.

“The sand storm died?” I ask. He jumps and spins to face me with a scowl.

I smirk at having got the drop on him and move to the windows to look out.

The sand has settled, and I can see out into the Wastes now, even see the cars with a layer of dust on them not too far out.

I feel him throwing looks at me, but I scan the horizon for any issues.

“What?” I eventually ask, breaking the tense silence.

“Why did you attack Derick?” he asks, and I sense no malice, only true curiosity.

“Huh, so that’s the pricks name?” I sigh, and lean against the railing and face him.

“Because he attacked me, he felt challenged by me. If I hadn’t of won, we both know what he would have done to me.

” He turns to face me and nods. “What, not going to try and deny it? To protect your friend?” I sneer.

“He’s not my friend, and what you said is the truth.” I raise my eyebrow at that, but he carries on talking. “What’s it like out here? I mean really like? I haven’t been out since they rescued me a couple of years ago, and before that, I lived in a little house with no one and nothing around.”

“It’s…” I try to think of a way to describe it. “It’s like the films you used to see on TV about war zones but more primal. It’s brutal, and everyone and everything is trying to kill you, so when you find something good, you hold on to it as hard as you can.”

“Those men, they your something good?” I sense no judgment; his face remains curious.

“They are the only good thing I have ever known,” I admit truthfully. Done with sharing, I straighten. “Better wake your people, we need to pack up and leave.”

I leave him there and descend back downstairs as people start to rouse, I ignore them, still feeling a bit sore from last night.

Striding to the door, I pull it open and slip out, and let the silence soothe me.

Stepping away from the building, I take in where we are, trying to pinpoint our location.

The sun is just starting to rise, breaking over the horizon and bringing blistering heat with it.

Walking a little away from the building I pee, and as I am buttoning my trousers, I hear a scream.

Snapping my head up, I look around and frown when I don’t see anything.

A scream comes again, from somewhere far into the Wastes.

I break into a sprint and slam open the door to the building.

“We are leaving. Now!” I yell. Maxen stumbles out of the break room with my remaining weapons and possessions.

“What’s wrong, Mi Alma?” he asks, his eyes alert as he scans around.

“Cannibals. We need to leave before they get here.” He nods and jogs off to help people pack.

We are out the door in five minutes, no time wasted as we jump into the vehicles and speed off.

I am tense the whole time, looking through the back window until the building fades into the distance with Maxen gripping my thigh.

“Are we safe?” he asks, tense next to me.

“For now,” I reply.

The day is long and being stuck in a truck with big men makes it sweaty.

It makes me miss my bike, I wonder what ever happened to it.

Probably lost on the road. We stop again for the night, with only a day’s worth of travel to The Ring.

This time, we aren’t as lucky to find a building, we camp behind an old road sign.

Thorn hasn’t spoken to me all day, and I can feel the distance between us.

The others keep throwing me looks, but I ignore them and decide to clean my weapons instead.

I keep my back to the camp, uneasy about being out in the open with this many people, and the fire they insisted on lighting. It feels too much like tempting fate.

Maxen sits down next to me and begins to clean his own sword.

“Has a Summit ever been called before?” His voice soothes me as always, and I feel my shoulders dropping, the tension in my belly unfurling.

“Probably, I only remember one, when I was a slave. Ivar attended and chained me to his chair.” The truth flows out so easily now, and no shame fills my words.

My past is just that, my past, a horror I survived, and I refuse to feel ashamed of that––especially around Maxen.

He falters for only a moment, his hands stilling with the cloth on his blade before resuming.

“What was it called for?”

I look back at my sword. “Territory lines, Berserkers were claiming more from both Worshippers and Seekers. It didn’t end well, after a night of arguing and more death than I could count, they settled it in The Ring.”

Murmurs reach us from the people behind us, but I don’t turn around.

“I don’t know what has happened with Thorn. It is his and your business, if either of you want to tell us you are welcome to, but if not that’s fine too. Either way, it does not affect how the rest of us feel. “

His words stop me, he always knows what I need to hear. “He is your brother, your family…”

“And you are my heart. I could never choose between you, and he would not make me. I still see the love he has for you, he just needs some time. He is like that, if something is upsetting or hard, he retreats to think about it so he doesn’t say or do something he will regret.

It doesn’t mean he doesn’t care, in fact, it is the opposite, it means he cares a great deal. ”

I stop cleaning and look at him. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime, Mi Alma. Whatever you need, I am here. I will never leave you, I will never betray you. It would be impossible, I might as well cut out my own heart. It only beats for you.”

A tension and stress I didn’t know I was carrying melts away. I guess my father’s appearance and betrayal, along with the argument with Thorn, has hit me more than I thought. I had started to distance myself from them so that they couldn’t hurt me. But that’s no way to live.

“I love you, Maxen. I know it might not always seem like I do, I don’t know how to give or receive affection. I am going to mess up, I’m going to test us and pull away. Promise me you won’t ever let me.”

Dropping his sword, he scoops me up like I weigh nothing and wraps me in his arms, his forehead on mine. “Never, Tazanna. I am never letting you go, for as long as I live on this Earth, you are mine.”

He kisses me gently, sealing his words. The kiss starts to slowly heat up, our tongues tangling as he grips me harder. He pulls back to nip at my lip, only to devour my mouth again. By the time the first scream reaches me, it’s too late.

Jumping off Maxen’s lap, I grab my swords, one in each hand and watch in shock at the deformed beings that materialise from the darkness, on all sides.

In various stages of undress, their bodies more animal than human, they let out a scream that has terror racing down my spine.

I have only met a cannibal once, it was hurt and had been left behind by its pack.

It was still one of the hardest fights of my life, and surrounding us now, crouched to the floor and flashing their teeth at us, their eyes alight with pleasure, must be at least twenty of them.

Creatures that were human once and turned to eating their own kind to survive.

The meat changed them, the first notable signs being the shakes, which grows to difficulty walking, poor coordination, and finally dementia and mood swings.

They quite literally forget how to be human, and the ones surrounding us now are so far gone, they would rip into us in seconds.

They wouldn’t even try to use weapons, just their teeth and hands.

The one closest to me is on all fours. Its hair is hanging down in a straggling mess as its blue eyes peer at me through it.

Its mouth is stained with blood, and its teeth blackened and decayed.

Its nails are long like claws, and shaped into points and other than some holey, dirty pants which look like they are about to fall off, it is naked.

It watches me as I grip the sword and wait for them to make a move.

Bursting into movement, almost too quick to see, the pack launches through the air at us, almost as one.

I roll under the leap of one and gut the one behind it, spinning I skewer the one flying through the air at me.

Rolling over it, I use my momentum to free my sword and spin to face the next one.

I hear the screams of the others, and the sound of fighting.

But the noise of skin and muscle ripping and chomping also reaches me.

Keeping my eyes alert, I search until I find the source, I have to quickly swallow bile as one of the guards from Paradise wails in terror as four cannibals rip him to shreds.

I go to save him, but I know it’s too late when one lands on his stomach and rips it open and starts to eat the insides.

Sands below, I thought I had seen all the horror this world had to offer––I was wrong.