Page 72

Seeker Territory

T he noise of so many engines rumbling as we race through the Wasteland is incredible, and the number of people here added an extra layer of protection.

I agreed with Dray, he will ride first, and me and my men will ride at the back, protecting our rear.

I love that even after we had sex, he doesn’t think he can control me and trusts in my instincts, believing they are assets to protect myself and his men.

“It’s a place of respect, you know?” I groan as a familiar annoyingly smug voice sounds. Looking to my left, I spot the assassin from before, I didn’t see him there earlier and I don’t know when the little sneaky bastard turned up.

“Sneaky fucking Seeker,” I mumble, I don’t know how he hears me over the engines, but he laughs. Louder, to be heard, I carry on, “What do you mean?”

Looking at me he starts to laugh. “You really are clueless about Seekers.” Sobering up, he swerves around a rock before moving closer to me.

“To ride at the back of a war party is the ultimate respect. It means they trust you with their lives and to protect them no matter what. Only one other person has ever been asked to ride at the back.”

Blowing away some sand, I carry on our conversation, “Who was that?”

“Me,” he answers before moving forward and riding in front of me, effectively cutting off our conversation.

Rolling my eyes, I pull up my bandanna to protect my mouth and nose as his bike kicks up dust. At this rate, with how fast we are riding, we should reach Seeker land before sundown.

I just hope it’s still there when we get there.

With nothing else to concentrate on but watching the roads and land around us, I start to wonder what Dray’s lands look like .

I know the Berserker stronghold is a castle, The Rim is a shanty city, The Ring a zoo, Worshippers a church and Paradise a bunker…

so what about Seeker? I guess I never really asked, but I can imagine it dark and dreary, with lots of weapons and shady places for assassins to hide, or maybe that’s just my imagination.

The road we are on is twisting and we are using it rather than riding straight through the sand, it clogs up the bikes and isn’t an easy ride.

Squinting, I spot something on the left, slowing my bike I leave a gap between me and the war party.

I don’t know why I noticed it, but something is pulling me to go and check it out.

Maxen and Thorn glance back and when they spot me, they slow down too, signalling to Drax and Jax to do the same.

When the rest of the bikes get a bit further away, I swerve towards the object and speed up until I stop a good few meters away.

When I can finally make out the shapes, I want to vomit.

Tied to a post where the road twists are Dagny and Cherry. I can hear the other bikes roaring closer, but I don’t move as I stare at their lifeless bodies.

Cherry is tied to a post, both arms and legs cut off and her clothing nowhere to be seen.

Her body is covered in blood and her throat slit, her head is nailed so that her face is pointed towards the road, but it’s the utter terror and despair carved into her lifeless face that is my undoing.

Swinging my eyes, unable to help myself, I take in Dagny.

Similar to Cherry he is tied for the world to see, but even in death his face is determined.

His breasts, which I am guessing he covered up, are on display and when my eyes drop to the rest of him, I clench the handlebar desperately.

Not only did those animals expose him, they nailed a cock in between his legs.

My breathing is harsh and sawing out of my chest as I look for a sign of who could have done this monstrous thing.

My eyes land on the Berserker brand drawn crudely in blood at their feet.

Time slows down as my ears ring, guilt hunching my shoulders because this is my fault.

I don’t know how, but someone must have seen me with them and used them as a punishment because this type of killing is what it is.

..a punishment and a warning. To me, taunting me and daring me to find them, they are hoping to anger me until I lose control. I will, but not in the way they expect.

Standing in the darkened corner of my cell, my hair tangled and covered in blood, I wait for them to come, I know they will.

The screaming will have alerted them if nothing else.

I feel like a monster right now, but strong as well.

A cold smile curves my lips as I look down at the dead man at my feet.

One of the bastards who gutted Petal lays there, bleeding out like she did.

Only he had no one to help him, no one to answer his cries or begs, instead, the last thing he saw was my face as I screamed and raged, and cut him up.

I’m numb though, I should be scared at the pure, unfiltered rage running through me, but I am just a puppet.

It’s like I am here but I am not. Finally, something snapped in me, a force I have never felt before rose, and the next thing I knew I was leaping at the man taunting me.

I should be scared, this is will have repercussions.

I will be punished. You don’t just kill a Berserker and get away with it, but instead a twisted sort of joy fills my chest. It might be the last thing I ever do, but I will take some of those bastards with me.

I can hear the footsteps as they stomp down the stairs, reacting to the scent of blood and sound of screams, like animals.

When they round the cell’s corner, they stop dead, two of them, gawking at the man before their eyes snap up to meet mine.

I don’t know how much they can see, my whole body must look like a shadow to them, the fire not reaching me.

“What tha fuck have ya done, slave?” shouts one of the guards as he bangs on the cell door. Grinning, I step forward and into the light, when they see me, they gasp and fall back, their eyes wide as they take in my blood-soaked body.

“Holy fuck,” the one of the left whispers.

“She’s fuckin’ lost it!” the one on the right shouts, eyeing me warily like I might break through steel to get to him.

The fear in their eyes has my smile stretching, something powerful unfurling in my chest at the sight.

All my life here I have felt powerless, nothing, just something to be used and ignored, but now they notice me.

Now they fear me, and they will fucking pay for everything they ever did to me and my friends –– even if it takes twenty years. I will kill them all.

“Worth?”

“I’m okay,” I croak, before dismounting and moving to the bodies. I have to think of them as that. They aren’t people anymore, they aren’t my friends, they are just empty shells, hopefully they are together in the next life.

Kneeling at their feet, I bow my head, whispering a warrior’s goodbye and bidding them peace for their journey.

A tear drops to the sand, the heat soaking it up right away like it never existed, the only sign of my grief and pain.

I might not have known them for long or that well, but I knew them with one look.

The love they had, the fight and hope in their eyes.

I knew their story, their past, and struggles.

I will remember them like that, not like this. ..meat for the crows.

“I am sorry,” I whisper before raising my head and looking at them. “I promise you, I will make them pay.” With that I stand and square my shoulders, the deafening silence from behind only serving to help the screaming and anger flow through me.

“We bury them,” I shout, my voice strong, even though I still face away just in case they can see the truth in my eyes. My blood is burning and my chest tight, my darkness clambering to get out, pushing me to burn this fucking world and all the evil in it down.

I hear movement behind me as I drop my bag to the ground, the least I can do is help them. I watch as both my men and the assassin get to work on getting the bodies down, following my orders without hesitation. A hand lands on my back and I know who it is without looking.

“We will get them all,” he warns, his voice silky and filled with deadly intent.

“I know, but I wonder what they have left us at yours,” I reply coolly, trying to tame the storm inside.

“As do I.” I can hear the sadness in his voice, but when I look his eyes are still as cold and expressionless as ever, making me wonder if I imagined it.

“I will burn this world down to get to them if they have destroyed what I worked so hard to protect,” he vows, eerily echoing my own thoughts.

As much as Dray scares me, he reminds me of my darkness and I know we are both made of the same blood and pain.

I wonder how far he will go, how far I will go?

Thinking back over all the people I have lost and how many lives have been ruined by Ivar and his twisted control, I realise I would do anything.

We step forward at the same time, reaching for Cherry’s body as it falls.

I wince when I catch her, the blood spraying everywhere and staining my hands.

Breathing through my nose, I focus on the next step until there is nothing left to do, I am just standing above two unremarkable patches of sand covering their bodies.

I can feel the blood drying and flaking on my skin, but I don’t bother wiping it away.

I will ride into the Seeker camp like a warrior and any Berserkers that are there will know they have pushed me too far this time.

It’s time to finish this war, before the week is through, I want Ivar’s head at my feet.

We get back on the road, the mood more somber as we all check our surroundings better. They know we are coming, and we can’t be more prepared. Bloodlust coats every face as we ride hard and fast, like that might stop what has already happened.

I expected bloodshed and mayhem, but as I see a sign for Seeker territory all seems calm and quiet, too quiet.

The terrain starts to get more uneven, hilly with the roads ending in dirt paths and eventually nothing but wasteland.

Yet Dray navigates it easily, not even looking where he is going.

It makes sense that they would hide their camp, sneaky little assassins.

A town seems to appear out of nowhere, mismatched roofs and smoke billowing from the sands.

At least twenty homes are scattered in a tight formation, with darkened paths winding between them.

We don’t bother stopping, but I look on curiously.

No one appears or looks out of the town and that has me frowning, surely they have heard us coming.

We ride around the town and around a hill before I let out a whistle, this is not where I imagined Dray living––it’s a fucking mansion.