Haven Ward Read online

  I blinked, suddenly realizing that I was still outside the Hunter Gern, waiting for my tribe. I wiped water out of my eyes, shivered in my soaking cloak, and saw that they were standing in front of me.

  “You ok Weston?” Mathis asked.

  “Yeah, sure, just got lost in my thoughts for a second. Everything good? We ready to get the hell out of here?”

  Bird rubbed heat into his arms, “We might have a problem boss. While we were back there waiting for you and Roland to finish up business, we heard some men talking. Drake’s men. We might have some trouble.”

  I glanced at Roland, “Great. You take rear, watch our ass. We have to get these papers to King or things could get ugly. Now let’s go. Mathis, Bird, knives out, be ready. We need to get back now.”

  We started out at a quick trudge through the deep mud, our feet plunging, sinking, making a sick sucking sound with every step as the ground tried to pull us to it. My heart was beating fast, my mouth dry despite the downpour. I felt familiar fear creeping up on me, but I violently pushed it back down. I couldn’t afford to lose my cool, not now when I was in charge of three other lives. I had to be strong and protect them. The words of the drunkard came back to me though, cold as the freezing rain, I’ll rip you apart.

  Lightning flashed and lit the skyscrapers far off in Red City. I knew I’d never get to go there. I was just a mud rat, born and raised. There’s no going up from here.

  Suddenly, I heard Roland whistle from behind me. I turned, hand already going to my pistol.

  “What is it?” I asked, squinting through the rain.

  My tribe huddled around me, Roland’s dripping face sharp and alert, “They’re coming boss.”

  I felt my stomach sink, “Ok, just take it easy. Don’t do anything. I want to talk to them. We’re not going to start a war here.”

  The few remaining people who had been wandering the streets this late at night had disappeared. They could feel the rising conflict and wanted no part in it. The street was ours. And our opposition.

  There were two of them, tall, thick, soaking wet and looking pissed off. When they saw that we were waiting for them, they stopped a couple yards away. We stood, waiting.

  One of the men finally stepped forward, stretching out a gnarled hand, “You kids have something that belongs to us. Why don’t you just fork it over, save everyone some grief eh?”

  I said nothing, thunder exploding overhead.

  The other man snorted, “Just kill em, who cares, let’s just get this done and get out of the rain.”

  “You’d be making a big mistake,” I yelled over the storm, “You do not want to start a war with the Dynasty Tribe. You have no idea how powerful King is.”

  “Is that why they sent a bunch of kids? To show off their power?”

  I shifted in the mud, pulling my feet out of its depths, “Just walk away. The deal was done, fair and square. There’s nothing for you here.”

  “Since when are you calling the shots?” The first man said, reaching into his belt. He pulled out a huge revolver, pointing it at Roland. I felt my knees grow weak.

  “You’re being stupid. You have any idea what happens if you pull that trigger?” I croaked.

  Roland shifted beside me, “It’s empty.”

  I glanced at him. His face was white, but his eyes were sure, “What’d you say?”

  “His gun. It’s empty.”

  The man snarled, “You willing to bet your life on it?”

  Roland blinked water off his face, “I can see that the wheel is empty. You don’t even have the hammer cocked.”

  The second man pulled out a knife, the blade gleaming in the lightning, “Well this thing has unlimited ammo, kiddie.”

  Before I even had time to react, the man with the knife leapt forward and drove his blade deep into Bird’s stomach. Time seemed to slow as I watched in shocked horror as Bird sank to his knees, blood tricking from his mouth and pouring from his gut. The knife was ripped out. The mud welcomed it, a human rain.

  “Bird no!” Mathis screamed, pulling out his own blade. My own fingers fumbled for my pistol, Roland doing the same. Because we didn’t have the element of surprise, we were just a few seconds too slow. Mathis lunged forward, all sense lost at the death of a friend. He grazed the man’s arm but put too much force into the stab. He lost his balance and stumbled forward, the Hunter side stepping and slashing out.

  Knowing I was too late, I brought my pistol up, and shot the man in the head, blowing gore out his temple. I wasn’t fast enough and Mathis took the knife in the throat. He howled in agony, hands clawing at the dark bloody gash, his voice wheezing.

  Roland had his pistol out as well, both of us feeling dazed, dreamlike, things were happening too fast for our brains to follow. The man with the revolver was on us in a second, smashing the butt of his gun into Roland’s face, driving him to the ground.

  I fired at him, the pistol kicking in my small hands, but the bullet thudded harmlessly in the dirt where the man had been standing a fraction of a second ago. As I spun, my grip slippery in the heavy rain, I felt a boot connect with my jaw, hard. The Hunter had spun, training his attack on me now. I stumbled into the mud, my world rocked. I squeezed my pistol tightly as I was sucked to the grime. If I lost that, then I was dead. I blinked back the darkness and saw that Roland was on his feet, gun lost in the storm and dirty street, charging the Hunter who was approaching me. He thudded onto my assailants back, wrapping his legs around the man’s waist, his arms around his neck, wheeling him away from me.

  I struggled to pull myself from the creeping mud and filth, watching Roland cry out as an elbow connected with his nose, the rain now mixing with blood on his face. He never let go though, squeezing his arms tighter around the Hunters throat.

  I raised my gun to take the shot, but they were both thrashing around so much, I didn’t want to risk shooting Roland.

  “Goddamn it Weston help me!” Roland screamed.

  I charged forward, feet making sucking sounds in the mud. I lowered my head and rammed it into the Hunters crotch. This earned a satisfying howl and the man went down to his knees, clutching his aching balls. Roland leaned back with all his weight and brought the man down on top of him, legs and arms still firmly wrapped around his body.

  “Get off me!” The Hunter roared. My heart stopped when I saw him flash a knife and blinding stab and Roland.

  It took him in the leg, the blade digging into his thigh. Screaming. Thunder. Lightening flashing. This night had turned to hell.

  I raised my pistol, stomping my boot into the man’s crotch, “Just hang on Roland!” I screamed.

  Roland saw I was about to shoot and had the sense, even through his pain, to move his head to the side, burying it into the ground, wincing.

  I fired. At this close range, the blood sprayed into my face, blinding me for a second, causing my heart to skip as I wondered who’s blood it was. I dragged my sleeve across my eyes and heard Roland.

  “Jesus Chirst my leg burns West, you have to help me!”

  I sank to my knees, shaking, trembling, feeling like I was watching the scene from the infectious clouds. I pulled the dead body off my friend and I could feel waves of reality begin to drown me.

  Bird. Mathis.

  They were dead.

  Dead.

  Their lifeless bodies lay impossibly still in the street. Nausea slugged me in the stomach and I retched. I felt a hand grip my arm.

  “Weston! Weston please! You have to help me! I can’t take this pain, it’s eating my leg! You have to get me back to King!”

  I looked up and saw that Roland was crying. Something I had never seen before. It brought me back to my senses. He was right, we needed to get back to King now, before more Hunters showed up. I didn’t know how much blood he had lost already or how much he had left before death decided it was his time too.

  I got to my feet and gingerly hauled my friend up. He cried out but then shut his mouth tight. I could hear him grinding his tee
th as I put his arm over my shoulder and we limped down the street. My heart ached to bring Bird and Mathis with us, but we didn’t have the time. I felt like a coward leaving them. I felt a hole open up in my heart. I had failed them. Son of a bitch. I had failed them.

  Roland was breathing hard.

  His voice came out in a grating rasp, “This mission was so fucked.”

  I didn’t know if the water on my face was the rain or my own tears, “These bastard’s don’t know what they just did.”

  Chapter 2

  I sat outside King’s Gern, back against the wall, ass in the mud, staring off at Red City. Roland had passed out, his body going limp. I had panicked and thought he was dead. When I burst into the Gern, screaming for help, three men immediately came to my aid. They took Roland into the back and King had just looked at me from his seat in the corner, his face grave and unreadable. I threw his papers at him and went outside, not saying a word.

  Red City was lit up, despite the storm. Colored lights were shooting up into the night sky, swaying back and forth, splashing a rainbow of colors on the clean sharp architect. I longed to go join the fun, get my mind off this mess, needing a distraction. There was probably a parade or something going on. The faint sound of music rode on the wings of the darkness to my ears. They were all happy, not a care in the world. It didn’t matter to them that two boys had been murdered tonight. Most of the people who lived in Red City worked for the Sanction and the Sanction took care of its own. It seemed like every other night there was some kind of fireworks display or a brilliant light show. Down here in the shit and piss of society, all’s we could do was sit and watch, feeling excluded and worthless.

  The rain was finally letting up. I took out a battered cigarette and lit it. I didn’t like smoking at all, it burned my throat. It made me look older though and the bizarre way it made my head feel was always welcome. And I needed a distraction right now. One of my close friends was in the back of this building, possibly on his death bed. I didn’t know what I’d do if Roland died. I’d known him my entire life, both of us joining King’s tribe together when we were ten.

  King had used us for petty stuff. We were the grunts. We’d pick pocket, steal, spy, and tail people. And we were good at it because we were small. We had made out pretty well most of the time and King was always nice to us, almost a father. A lot of the tribe bosses would beat the younger members to assert their power, but King never had. He paid us well and treated us like the men in the tribe and in doing so, he had gained our loyalty.

  The smoke from my cig swirled around my fingers, licking at them with a toxic tongue. I hated the smell, couldn’t stand the way it stuck to me. I ashed and took another drag feeling my thoughts slow as the buzz hit me. God, how the hell did this night go so wrong? Bird and Mathis were both brand new members. They had only been on a handful of missions when King put them under my command. I had been honored that he trusted me with two more lives other than Roland’s. Now they were dead. Would King still trust me?

  The door to the Gern opened and a tribe member, Hud, looked down at me, “Weston,” he said softly, “King wants to talk to you.”

  I flicked my cig towards Red City. I missed it. I sat saying nothing, the last drops of rain splashing into the mud.

  “Come on Weston,” Hud said extending a hand, “It’s going to be ok. You’re not the first to have men die on a mission. Try not to take it too hard.”

  I looked at him, “Are you kidding me?”

  “Let’s go see Roland. They’re about done patching him up. He’s going to be fine. You’d like to see him right?”

  I sighed, feeling my muscles relax at the good news. I took Hud’s hand and let him haul me up. We went in.

  Roland was in the back room, stretched out on a bed, his leg wrapped up in a white bandage. It was stained pink from blood seeping through. I went to his side, pushing aside the man who had just patched him up.

  “Hey. Hey Roland you ok buddy?”

  “He’s unconscious Weston,” said the man I pushed, “He lost a lot of blood. He needed stitches. You’re lucky that wasn’t a poison sheathed knife.

  I turned, “But he’s going to be ok, right Loyt? You stopped the bleeding in time?”

  “Yeah. He’s going to be fine.”

  I closed my eyes, “Thanks Loyt. Really.”

  “Just doing my job. If you people would stop running around all over the Gallows shooting and killing each other, that’d be ok too.”

  “But then why would we need your services?” A new voice rumbled from the doorway. I turned and saw King looking at us, at Roland, his arms crossed, face unreadable. King was a monster of a man. He was about three times my size, his jaw square and straight, his eyes such a pale blue they were almost white. Tattoos covered his body from head to toe, most of them tribal.

  “Oh I’m sure you’d still need me,” Loyt chuckled packing up his things.

  King pointed to the door, “Give us a minute will you, Loyt?”

  “Of course.”

  As he left, King shut the door behind him. He turned back to me, his tattooed head shining in the light, eyes fixated on mine.

  “Do you know why I let you join? Why I let you into the Dynasty Tribe?” he asked, speaking low, his voice as deep as the distant thunder.

  I shook my head, not wanting anything to do with this conversation.

  “It’s because you have balls, kid. You’re fearless,” He continued, “and you care. When Roland and yourself came to me, both of you these skinny little mud rats, starving, begging to join, you know what I saw? I saw the fire in your eyes, the determination, the promise that you were going to go far.”

  I snorted, “Bullshit.”

  King came and placed both his hands on my shoulders, “What happened tonight?”

  I grit my teeth, “We weren’t ready for this.”

  He said nothing, waiting.

  I looked at him, my eyes bloodshot. I felt so empty. I felt as if I had been dunked in a thick sludge, blurring my vision, clogging my ears, filling my mouth. “They came after us King. They came after us and killed Bird and Mathis.”

  King shut his eyes, “They’re dead?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “ How did you make it out alive?”

  My hands were shaking, “I killed them. God…I killed them King. I’ve never killed anyone in my life before and I just pulled out my gun and shot one in the head like I was squishing a bug.”

  “You did the right thing. You’d all be dead if you didn’t.”

  I brushed his hands off me, “You don’t have to console me.”

  King looked at me hard, “Are you ok?”

  I turned and looked at Roland, his chest rising and falling, “I’m fine.”

  “I know it’s not easy. I know it hard, killing your first.”

  I touched Roland’s arm, “I feel nothing for them King. I’d do it again in a second and not think twice.”

  The corner of King’s mouth twitched into a smile, “You care for your men. Your boys. That’s admirable”

  I spun around and stared up at him, “Damn it King, stop trying to make me feel better. You’re right I do care about them! Cared…about them.” I turned back to Roland, my best friend, “It just scares me that I don’t care about the men I killed.” I was angry, not sure why. A flurry of hazy emotions swam around in the muddy waters of my mind. I didn’t know what they were, had never felt like this before, and couldn’t distinguish a single one and that made me angry. Scared. I felt like I wasn’t in control of my own thoughts.

  “You shouldn’t feel guilt. They were nothing. They were a threat and you eliminated them the best you could. The fact that a couple of boys took out some of the Hunter tribe is impressive. Word is going to spread. You’re going to have to kill again,” He leaned close behind me and put his mouth to my ear, “You’re going to have to take many lives until there’s nothing left but me, you, and the Dynasty Tribe. This is what you signed up for. It’s toug
h, I understand. You’re just a child, but this is the Gallows, this is life, this is what you chose.”

  I felt my eyes growing moist, “I know that. And I’m ready for it. This won’t stop me or slow me down. I promise. I guess I’m just…shaken.”

  King smiled openly now, “You’re one of my most promising children, Weston. Don’t think I don’t see that.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out six tablets of glu, pushing them into my hands, “Here. Take this, get yourself something to eat. Recharge, don’t dwell on anything, instead focus on the future. You’re going to be ok.”

  I smiled back at him, wiping my face, “Thanks King. You’ve always been good to me.” I turned to leave, pushing the back door open when I stopped and turned back, “What are you going to do with the Midtown papers?”

  He spread his arms, “Re-sell them for a higher price of course. Do I look like middle class to you?” he chuckled.

  I snorted, “Hey you’re the King, right?”

  He laughed with me then tossed a small box my way, “Here. I figure you’re pretty low after tonight’s incident.” Bullets. I stuffed them in my coat. I wondered who I would use them on. Would I be saving a life? Or would I be killing in cold blood? I shook these thoughts away like a midnight chill. They were useless things to dwell on. They were just bullets.

  I said my goodbye to King and left. The air was cooling with the passing of the storm. My mind and body was shot. Exhaustion draped itself over me like a heavy blanket. I ignored the festivities of the Red City in the distance. Midtown remained quiet. Just what was life like there? They were the middle men, the silent ones. I didn’t care tonight. I just wanted to get some food, go home, and sleep. King would probably have new mission for me tomorrow. More people trying to kill me, more people hunting me, more people dead. The whole cycle was a nightmare.