Jaded Warriors book 2 (Jade Series)

Chapter 33

Chapter 33


“Jade?” He questioned, his all too familiar voice sent relief and fear through me at the same time. My ragged breaths burned through my lungs with a fiery rage.


I glanced up at the dark figure.


Kane.


He stepped forward then crouched next to me. “Are you okay?”


I couldn’t answer, I couldn’t speak and thankfully, I couldn’t breathe either, a legitimate excuse and I closed my eyes to let my tears recede as I attempted to catch my breath. My mind suddenly cleared, reminding me that Kane was the reason I killed Jackson. I wasn’t like Morrison. I wasn’t a coldblooded killer. I shouldn’t condemn myself, I did what I had to. As convincing as it sounded in my mind, my gut still wrenched into a knot.


“That was quite… the cardio workout… Jade,” Sonja huffed, as she caught up to us. I looked up briefly, snow fell all around us and landed on my eyelashes as I displaced the moisture off my face with wet hands. She stood over me as she leaned forward and braced herself with the palms of her hands against her quivering thighs as she attempted to catch her breath as well. She watched me, questioning. Her brown eyes warm through the screen of icy snow. “I talked to Tovar… he’s in,” she said, as she glanced at Kane.


“Are you sure?” He asked, his brows piked with interest. “What changed his mind?”


Sonja glanced at me with a masked expression and I stiffly shook my head. I couldn’t take the credit, I didn’t want it.


“I guess he had a change in heart… he wants to meet with you tomorrow night,” she paused briefly. “Let’s go back to the house, we’ll talk about it there.”


I breathed a heavy sigh as I recovered, relieved that for now, Kane didn’t know my involvement. I pulled myself out of the snow. My jeans soaked and my legs numbed and I trailed behind them as we walked through the snow covered streets. 


***


I fumbled with the Velcro on my wrist wrap as I secured it tight. My wrist felt fine and I left it off most of the time, but it worked well for a brace and extra support as I exercised in the weight room. I smiled thoughtfully at Sonja’s persistence in getting me in the room, it took me a while to get used to the idea. Now, with my need to defend myself without the fear that paralyzed me, I spent most of my time in there.


Since my altercation with Tovar last week, Sonja seemed to keep her distance which added to my need to direct my frustrations outward and the punching bag proved quite beneficial. I couldn’t blame her, I didn’t know why no one told her I was responsible for Jackson’s death and therefore, one of the reasons why I needed a safe house, her house.


I glanced in the mirror as I paused momentarily to wipe a beat of sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. I noticed Sonja as she watched me.


“That’s good,” she said, as she studied my form, peeled herself from the doorframe and walked across the polished hardwood floor. She wrapped her arms around the bag and held it in place. “But you can do better.”


I gave her a perplexed look, her smile filled with optimism. “Okay… how?”


“Don’t kill the bag. Quick and fast jabs. Get in… get out, like this,” she said, then demonstrated as I stepped back. Her skill, flawless and dancelike as she moved light on her feet. “Now you try it… focus, stick to a few different routines, and don’t mix it up until you get your form down.”


I worked slowly at first as I danced around the bag and focused on my moves. Each jab grew more threatening, each kick and each knee more destructive than the last. Determined with purpose, I forced all thoughts out of my mind. All thoughts except for those of Gage. That night in the arms tent and his irresistible will, determined to protect me in all ways possible, to protect me by teaching me to protect myself. I didn’t want to let him down, I wanted him to see me as strong and capable. I needed to see myself the same way.


I kept going as sweat beaded into my brow. My face felt flushed, my mind, engaged as I danced around spry and determined. I reminded myself, this was only practice, it could fare differently in person but I didn’t care, at the moment, I felt in control.


My focus shifted as Damian entered my mind and I imagined him the benefactor of my burst of rage as I pummeled the bag. Frustration fueled by hurt and jarring animosity caused my heart to hammer in my chest and my breaths increased, fueling my body.


I noticed Sonja and I hesitated, her expression the same as the night she discovered I killed Jackson, somewhere between shock and irrepressible wariness. I forgot she was there and she threw me off guard. I stopped, stunned, my chest heaved with each gasp for breath as I fought with the knot in my throat.


“I can’t imagine what you must think of me!” I huffed, my energy spent and on the verge of tears as I forced them back, angry they would try to surface.


“What are you talking about?” She asked, intractable bewilderment filled her voice and surfaced on her face. “Just the look on your face when you found out I killed Jackson.”


“I knew you killed him before you came… that look on my face was shock that you told Tovar… I was stunned… but it worked.”


“You knew?”


“Yeah…”


I looked through the windows out over the valley, away from her questioning eyes as I paced the floor. Loose strands of moist hair hung in my face, my once high ponytail, drooped loosely at my shoulder. I reached up and pulled it out as I shook out my hair, then pressed my forehead against the window as I looked hopelessly at the sunrise. The sky over the mountains, colored with melted coral and smudged purple leaked into a pale blue sky and reflected with shimmering sparkles on the city buildings below. Its silent beauty, masking the ugliness of what went on deep inside the city.


“Jade?”


I felt her next to me, then she placed her hand gently on my shoulder. “Do you think my mother would be ashamed of me… of what I’ve done?” I glanced at her blurry reflection in the window as I finally succumbed to the tears. My voice wavered. “I’ve killed men, Sonja.”


“No, sweetie,” she said, then brushed my hair out of my eyes as she turned me to look at her. “I know for a fact… she’s proud of you… I’m proud of you, I know she is too.”


“You are?” I asked, then looked at her through hurt filled eyes. “You’ve been quiet since that night.”


“I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes sympathetic and shining. “I’ve been watching you… waiting to see if you will find yourself. I didn’t want to influence your thoughts… I didn’t mean to appear distant. I don’t think you realize what you’ve become.”


“What?”


“Jade… you are this war’s strongest weapon. Morrison can’t reach you, you are too strong… you’ve influenced so many.”


“No, I’m not.”


“Yes, you are.”


“I have a whole Militia who is hunting for me… I am not that strong!”


“You also have a whole army who protects you… when your name is mentioned, the room goes quiet… It’s your influence. You changed Tovar’s mind, something Prescott, or me, or even Kane haven’t been able to do… do you realize what that means?”


“No.”


“Tovar speaks for the entire inner city district! Don’t underestimate yourself… and don’t feel bad about the lives you were forced to take… they forced your hand… they have forced this entire resistance. I understand why Kane wants to keep you hidden, I do… He’s trying to protect you, but those people down there need to see you. They need to know you’re real and human, like them… you were hurt by him, yet you still beat him, Jade…”


“Will you take me with you again?”


“Yes… we’ll go again soon, in a few days if you are up to it. But don’t lose your fire… okay? Those people… and that city out there, they’re depending on it.”


***


I wiped at the sweat on my forehead with the back of my hand as I bounced down onto my bed and stared at the ceiling. I smiled to myself. Every muscle in my body, on fire with renewed energy, pumped and growing with definition. I made it past the stiff sore muscle stage and as each day passed I felt stronger with a hungry appetite for more.


We were in the second week of April, a few weeks passed since Olivia reassured me I had done what I had to do when I killed Jackson. She supported me and that’s all I needed to regain my confidence in myself and I felt alive again. Along with my newfound energy, an unsettling antsy feeling stirred inside of me. I wanted to be outside and in the middle of everything again.


I sighed, unable to curb my appetite, then reached for the bedside table and switched on the lamp then opened the drawer. The envelope with Gage’s letter, still in the same spot as I left it a few nights ago. I pulled it out.


Hey beautiful,


I’m missing you already. I know I said I’d be back, and I will, God willing, but I don’t know when yet…


As I read through his letter, his words, familiar and usually comforting, only fueled my ache in my chest that grew stronger for him each day and I wished he took me with him. Six weeks had passed since I saw Gage, but it felt like six months in spite of Sonja’s hospitality and her strange routines that kept us busy.


...I think about you all the time, beautiful, probably too much. It won’t be long and I’ll have you in my arms again, but until then, I’ll keep my memory of you last night fresh in my mind along with my other favorites, the list keeps growing. I know I should apologize, but I can’t be sorry for barging into your room and finding you, well, let’s just say, I’m smiling again. You keep me going and you’ve given me a bit of heaven to hold onto in this dump until I can see you and your beautiful green eyes again…


Guilt surrounded me as I thought of Gage, in the trenches, so to speak, and I knew his living conditions were far worse than the comforts I continued to have provided for me. I saw them first hand each time Sonja took me to the city. Each time we went I couldn’t help but wonder if Gage and I were close, if it were possible for him to be in the building next to us, maybe across the street. I would never know. I wanted to ask her about him, to find out how he was, where he was, but I didn’t want to jeopardize his safety, his cover.


I took a deep breath as I pressed the letter to my chest and let out a heavy sigh. I wanted him to come home, even if it was just for one day, a certain day, my birthday, just two days away. The dim lighting of my bedside lamp bled through the open doorway as I stared blankly past it into the darkness of the hallway, wishful thinking consumed my mind. A loose strand of my hair dropped across my eye. I blew at the stubborn piece unsuccessfully then tucked it behind my ear.


At that moment, Sonja peered around the doorframe into my room interrupting my thoughts as she gave me a conspiring smile.


“What do you have planned now?” I asked, suddenly my spirits perked and I sat upright in bed as I noticed her clothes. Dressed with black jeans and a form fitting charcoal grey shirt under a black jacket. “Are we going tonight?”


“I knew you’d want to go,” she said with a smile. She didn’t have to ask. “We’ll leave at eight and dress dark… can you be ready?”


“Why so late?” I asked, as I looked at my watch, seven fifteen, then folded up Gage’s letter and replaced it carefully in the drawer.


“Night comes later but it also means we won’t have as much time so we will have to hurry,” she said, as I jumped off the bed and headed for the shower. 


***


    The hum of the truck motor hypnotized me into a dazed state as I watched out the window. Nameless faces, hollow and emotionless of those out on the street, hungry and cold, embedded into my mind as we passed by. At least it wasn’t snowing anymore as the temperatures finally eased into the forties at night.


“Do any of these people get this food?” I asked, as I broke the silence.


“Yes,” Sonja said, as I tore my eyes from the gloom outside to look at her. Her profile in the moonlight, soft and beautiful, yet staunch with intelligence. “We take the food to the four different kitchens where they prepare a meal once a day. They can go if they want to, most of them do.”


“I… Sonja!” I squealed as I glanced up. Our conversation cut short as Sonja slammed on the brakes and the truck screeched to a halt. We both lurched forward and I caught myself as I shoved my hands against the dash. I gasped at the sight before us, a road block erupted from the darkness with floodlights that suddenly flashed on with blinding light and Militia, manning our entrance into the city.


A man in full uniform stood in the middle of the road, inches from the front of the truck. His weapon gripped in his hands at an angle that stretched from his hip to his opposite shoulder.


He walked with bolstered heavy strides to the driver’s side window and tapped on the glass with the tip of his gun. She rolled it down three inches. “Names and where you’re headed?” He asked. His jaw square and tense. The muscles of his arms, taut and unfazed by the chill outside.


“What is this about?”


“Morrison wants every vehicle stopped,” he said. “State your name and purpose.”


“I’m Sonja and this is my daughter and we’re taking food to the shelters,” she said. My heart stilled in my chest with his interrogation. His dark eyes harsh and questioning. “You can look in the back if you want to.”


He took a step to the side and shined a light through the faintly tinted shell window then returned. “You can pass.”


Sonja glanced briefly through the rear view mirror as we lurched forward then breathed a heavy sigh. We rode the rest of the way in silence until she brought the truck to a halt alongside of the curb and a two-story, red bricked building with boarded up windows decorated with graffiti. Militia guarded the entryway, their stone cold faces stared straight ahead with very little acknowledgement directed to us.


I stepped out only to come face to face with Dante, his dark eyes filled with forbearing silence and my insides turned brittle. With focused attention he walked to the back of the truck with his hand softly gripping my elbow where we met Sonja. His hands, strong with fidgety impatience, dropped down the tailgate and he leaped into the back of the truck.


He crouched down and slid the boxes forward. His shirt lifted slightly above his cut waistline while he stretched for the next box, revealing a handgun tucked in the back of his pants. He glanced at Sonja.  “I tried to get a message to you… but apparently, it didn’t reach you. Morrison has tightened his security and the city is on the verge of a lockdown… we’ll drop everything here,” he said, his eyes stern and fearless, then he glanced at me. “A lot has happened since you were here last… do not make eye contact. We need to get you out, and you can’t come back… not until things settle down. It’s been rumored around town that you are staying in the city.”


“Okay,” I said, as I squelched down panic. He changed since I saw him a few weeks ago. With his newly awakened fervor, he looked healthier with acutely agile movements and well defined arms. His color, a once pasty paleness with darkness around his eyes, changed to a more olive skin tone flowing with vivacity and life.


I felt someone behind me and turned to see two black men as they towered over me with broad shoulders and thick necks. The taller of the two, his skin darker than the other with shoulder length dreads and the other, his hair nappy but buzzed short. “This is Justice and Christian,” Dante paused, “you can trust them, Jade.”


I drew in a breath as my heart beat quickened in my chest.  I picked up a box and followed him inside with Justice behind me into a kitchen much smaller than his. A woman, middle aged with nut-brown hair and tired eyes stepped out of the pantry followed by two kids, a boy and a girl with similar resemblances. The little girl smiled at me as I set the box onto the table. She climbed up and started to pull out frozen, packaged meat.


“You stay here,” Dante said to me, then glanced behind him. “Where’s Sonja?”


“She hasn’t come in yet,” I said, my voice wavered with anxiety.


“Shit!” He said. I rushed to the doorway to glance out the window and he followed. He stopped behind me, peering over my shoulder to Sonja outside. His hand moved to the middle of my back, where my shoulder blades met and with slight pressure, started to lure me slowly away from the door. I held my ground, not wanting to leave without her.


Sonja and Christian each stood with a box in their hands, three Militia ten feet away, questioning them. The altercation grew heated in spite of Christian’s attempts to rationalize with them. His black dreads bounced at his shoulders as he talked and he held out a pale colored palm, much lighter than the rest of his skin tone, as he attempted to deter them from advancing as he cautiously pushed Sonja behind him.


Suddenly, I heard gunfire and his body jerked to the ground as Militia came in from behind and grabbed Sonja. The box crashed to her feet as she fought to get away. Dante forced his hand against my mouth to prevent me from screaming.


I watched helplessly as Militia shoved her into the back of a truck. Tires squealed as they sped away. Gunfire erupted as men from the resistance filled the streets shooting at the Militia as two men grabbed Christian from the ground, bleeding and wounded.


Militia continued to advance and headed towards the food shelter, towards us. Dante locked the deadbolt and pulled me down the hallway.


“Dante!” I cried, desperate to help her as I tried to pull away. “Sonja!”


“Jade, she’s gone! They will kill all of us!  We have to go…  Justice!    Let’s go!” He yelled, his voice volatile as Justice met us at the kitchen doorway with a backpack slung over his shoulder, his eyes a stark white with the backdrop of his dark skin and dim lighting. A girl emerged into the hallway, her lips full and the color of her skin a creamy caramel compared to his as he grabbed her arm and dragged her along.


“What about Sonja and Christian!” She screamed, her eyes wide with fear.


“The Militia jacked them, Keish!” He said, his eyes set wild and determined to leave, to get out alive. “We’ll find out where they’ll take them, let’s go!”


Dante said nothing and I wondered if Justice knew Christian had been shot. Shouts and screams and explosive violence erupted behind us outside as the little boy squeezed past and motioned for us to follow. We ran down the long corridor and turned, passing the back door. I paused briefly, conflicted.


“This way!” The little boy called out and we followed him into a room as pounding on the front door started with muffled threats if it wasn’t opened. He opened the closet and pushed through a hidden doorway in the wall, exposing a hole in the floor with winding metal stairs. The little boy ushered me forward as I stopped and looked back at Dante. His eyes wild and impatient with Justice behind him.


“Where are we going?” I asked, desperate for answers, desperate to feel I could trust him. His eyes softened as the girl Justice called Keish, stepped around him and looked at me stunned.


“Really? You’re going to ask that now?” She asked with jarring attitude as her head bobbed back and forth.


“It’s okay, Keisha?” Dante said.


“No it isn’t!    Girl… right now… you don’t have a choice! He’s trying to save your ass and you’re going to question him?”


“Keisha! Stop!” He gave her a sideways glance then he turned back to me, his expression filled with a hint of captivating charm under dogged determination. “Jade… you are going to have to trust me… trust us… we mean you no harm.”


“Don’t you think that if he was out to hurt you, he would have done it by now?” Keisha said, her impatience wearing thin.


“Okay,” I said, then climbed into the closet staircase. We clamored slowly, lower and deeper into the echoing darkness, Dante’s hands on my shoulders as he walked next to me too close, directing the way. Persistent guiding hands, purely out of kindness and obligation but intrusive just the same.


Once down the stairs the door closed above us and left us in darkness. Justice flicked on a flashlight, which added to my anxiety as the thick dank air and narrow walls of dirt and stone seemed to close in around me. I looked back as Keisha rambled incessantly to Justice while he only half listened with an occasional nod or verbal acknowledgement and I tried to shut it out of my mind. We passed by several staircases that called me to climb, to find the surface and air.


My throat tightened as flashbacks of escaping the compound invaded my mind. My breaths quickened with the pounding in my chest, desperate for relief, desperate for fresh air. My eyes grew moist just as Keisha caught my eye and her distracting babble stopped suddenly as I blinked the moisture away. I clenched my jaw tight, angry with myself then took a deep breath to calm my insides.


He must have sensed my unease as his fingers grazed down my arm and curled around my hand and squeezed it softly. His gesture meant to calm me, but grew distressing as he led me to an unknown place. Our hands felt mismatched and awkward, my heart felt lost in a dissipated illusion that I wanted nothing to do with, in spite of his kindness.


We stopped briefly as the corridor branched three ways then he turned me down another long corridor which led to another. My silent agony bursting at the seams ready to be expelled. “Where are we?” I asked, the waver in my voice, hopefully gone unnoticed. If he heard it, he didn’t say or lead on that he did.


“Under the city,” he said, then looked up. “About three blocks southeast from where we went under.”


I looked at him stunned by his keen sense of direction, because I had no idea, where we would end up. I felt glad he did. We came to another staircase and stopped. He looked back at me, his warm eyes smiling in the shadowy darkness as I became hopeful with anxious anticipation that we reached our destination.  He dropped my hand then climbed the stairs and I followed, through another wall, another closet, and I could breathe again.


“Finally,” Keisha added, as she crawled up through the floor and into the room.


Justice followed last then proceeded to check all the rooms of what seemed to be an abandoned apartment. I looked out the window, a million stars lustered in the sky with a full moon, bright and pale cast a blue hue on everything it touched. It created just enough light to make out shapes in the room. Dante ran his hands through his hair, then pulled out his handgun and set it in front of him on the table hidden in the darkest corner with two chairs. An old dresser with broken, open drawers pressed against the far wall and a grey pinstriped mattress lie on the floor.


Justice returned, slightly at ease, then set the flashlight straight up on the dresser, its yellow glow, spotlighted on the ceiling in a round circle, fainter at the edges.  He spoke to me for the first time. “Stay in this back room and don’t come out… stay away from the windows,” he said. I went to protest and stopped as he gave me a stern look, then he turned his wide eyed glare from me, to Keisha.


“I will,” she added, her voice high pitched with attitude surfaced again as she eyed him with cynical disregard. She crossed her arms across her chest, either cold, or scared. I guessed both.


“You’re leaving!” I eyed Dante as it finally registered why Justice would be giving me instructions. “What is going on? Where are we now?”


“We’re dead center of Militia territory.”


“Why did you bring me here?” My voice rose an octave as I tried to squelch down panic.


“I don’t have many options, Jade! Militia territory is my home, these are the streets I grew up on, I live here… we live among them,” he said, then gestured to Justice and Keisha. “When we dug these tunnels, the whole city was occupied by Militia… The tunnels on the north end have either collapsed or are unstable from heavy fire when Kane seized the jail… I can’t get you out by tunnel.” 


My heart sank into the pit of my stomach. “Dante… we have to go find Sonja,” I begged, my glare shifted back and forth between him and Justice as I waited for an answer.


“Do you realize where you are? You can’t go,” he said, the concern in his eyes evident.


“I need to go… I need to find Sonja and get out of here,” I said, desperation increasing my fear and irrational thoughts. I knew I sat in the middle of militia territory, a territory they were on the verge of losing control over to Kane and the resistance. Emotions ran high with a refusal to surrender, as well as the paranoia by the militia when they saw someone suspicious.


“No, I’ll go, it’s not safe for you out there… stay here… I will see what I can find out.”


“Take me with you! I don’t want to stay here!”


“Hey… Easy girl,” Justice interrupted my rant and I bristled at his tone. His large overpowering frame sent a shiver through me as he moved closer and I sucked in a deep breath as I took a step back. I didn’t know him, heck, I didn’t know Dante that well either and yet they expected me to trust them like we’d been best friends forever. A faint acknowledgement surfaced in his eyes as he recognized my biting apprehension. “We know you’ve got heart… but considering who you are, just chill with Keish for a bit… we’ll scope it out first.” 


“I’ll do what I can to find her, Jade,” Dante said, as he stepped between us, a barrier that shielded me against the intense look in the whites of Justice’s eyes. His jaw tensed as he studied me, his dark eyes warm but impatient, waiting for me to find it in me to trust him for the second time in less than an hour.


I couldn’t speak as a knot grew in my throat to the point of near suffocation and my eyes moistened as I imagined the worst. Doing what he could to find her, as good as his intentions were, may not be enough. Flashbacks of being locked in a cold cement room, the beatings, the shower room and hosing’s with the ice cold water. The relentless drug induced state I suffered in. My own mind, just as much torment as the razor sharp spray, all vivid memories still too fresh in my mind like it happened yesterday.


I paced the floor as I ran my fingers up through my hair as my emotions whirled. My breaths increased with the beat of my heart and I fought with myself to maintain composure as he watched me cautiously.


“You don’t know what its’ like,” I said. My voice barely a raspy whisper as I surprised myself with my own comment. I caught sight of Keisha in my peripheral vision, morbid fear in her eyes and I couldn’t tell if it was from the threat of Militia outside, or from me. I suddenly wished I’d kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to elaborate and I hoped he didn’t ask.


“I know,” he said. My eyes shot up to meet his, the expression on his face, etched with worry as he drew me in with his gaze and I couldn’t look away. He took a step towards me, his hands fidgety as if he wanted to reach out for me but didn’t. “She’s a friend of mine too.” His words hit a raw spot. Of course he would look for her. He cared about her like I did and it wasn’t fair of me to treat him less than her friend, which wasn’t where my fear truly stemmed from even though he took the brunt of my insecurities. The real issue was finding her unharmed and in one piece.


Air rattled in my lungs as I breathed a ragged breath, my shoulders dropped as did his and I conceded silently. I looked away, walked to the window and stared through my faint reflection into the black night.


Suddenly, I felt tired and glanced at the mattress. How could I sleep when Sonja obviously wasn’t? I forced the thought out of my mind and looked over my shoulder at Dante as he pulled out his pistol and checked it for bullets. Three clips sat on the table, ready to be used if necessary and I prayed it didn’t come to that.


“Are you going to leave us a gun?” I asked. His eyes met mine as he glanced up, his eyebrows raised in surprise.


“Do you want one?”


“Of course!” I said, and turned to face him. My brows furrowed at the thought of being left without one. Justice chuckled a deep hearty laugh with his head back and I saw his pink gums and stark white teeth, almost glowing in the darkness. Then he eyed me with a credulous smile, set the backpack down and unzipped it.


“Why is that so funny?” I asked.


“You want a piece?” He asked as he avoided my question, and held out his bag for me to choose. Boredom heavy in the whites of his eyes as he waited. A half dozen hand guns loose in the bag with several clips and boxes of bullets among another flashlight, a few pairs of socks, a shirt and a change of shorts. I reached in carefully and picked up a gun. “Not that one… that one’s mine.”


I scowled at him with covert curiosity, a faint smile surfaced in his stoic expression. I couldn’t help but smile, though weak and filled with worry. “Pick one for me.”


He reached in his bag then set a pistol and clip on the dresser before me and I picked it up with modest reluctance. I snapped the clip into place and stared through the grooves of the sites as I aimed out the window at a distant star.


“Thanks,” I added, then disengaged it and tucked it in my jeans.


“Come on… let’s go,” Dante said, with an eagerness in his voice as he finished stuffing the last of his empty clips with bullets.


“I’m waiting on you,” Justice replied.


“We won’t be long,” he said, his eyes met mine and I held his gaze a little too long, unsure what went through his mind but wanting to figure it out. Finally, I looked away and they left the way we came in.


The room grew quiet as I looked around, Keisha strangely at a loss for words. Suddenly, a wave of fatigued sadness moved over me and I crawled onto to the mattress and let my body drop as I worried for Sonja and Christian. My eyes grew heavy as I sighed, my body desperate for rest. I rolled to my side and curled my knees to my chest as Keisha sat against the wall that dripped with shadows and strips of peeling wallpaper. Her head dropped back against it with a faint thud.


I glanced at my watch, ten fifteen. A pain in my chest grew as I thought of Sonja and I squelched down the panic as I forced her out of my mind. I couldn’t afford to think of her right now as I worried my fear for her would consume me and paralyze my ability to think clearly and react if needed.


I let my thoughts wander to Gage as I wondered where he could be, under the same bright stars and the same full moon. Trapped in the same city, waging war against the Militia. My chest ached as I swallowed at the knot in my throat.


A buzzing silence filled the room as my mind shut down and my eyes fought to stay open with compelling force. “Did he really do those things to you,” Keisha asked. I wasn’t sure exactly what she meant by those things and I wondered what exactly she’d been told, but I knew all too well who she referred to, Damian. I slipped my pistol under my pillow and let my eyes close with a lack of emotion.


“Yeah…”


***


   


“Jade…” I woke, unsure of my surroundings to the distant sounds of my name. I gasped and in a swift movement, grabbed my pistol and engaged it. My heart pounded violently as I looked into the blurry darkness and pointed the gun at the vague figure that stood over me. “Whoa! Jade, wake up! It’s me, Dante.”


I squeezed my eyes tight as I struggled to focus and slowly Dante registered before me, unarmed with his hands up at his sides. My arms grew heavy from the weight of the pistol and I disengaged it as I breathed a sigh and let my arms relax.


“Dante… I… I’m sorry,” I said, my voice still heavy with sleep. I glanced at Keisha, wide eyed and pressed into the corner as I tucked the pistol away and collapsed back onto the mattress.


He crouched on his knees next to me. “It’s okay,” he said, his brown eyes searched mine. “We found where they’re keeping Sonja.”


“Where?  What about Christian?”


“He’s at the shelter we fled from… Justice is with him now, they’re looking after him. He was shot, but it’s not fatal,” he said, the heaviness in my chest lightened as Dante turned to Keisha. Her eyes grew wide with fear at the news.


“They shot him?” The panic in her voice led me to believe Christian was more than a friend to her. He meant more to her than that and I wondered silently about their relationship.


“Christian was asking for you, take the tunnels… you and Justice will meet up with us in about two hours, we are going to need your help, he can fill you in on the details.”


“Okay,” she said, then jumped to her feet and walked through the closet, leaving me alone with Dante. I glanced at him, then squirmed slightly under his stare.


“My guy on the inside says she’s being kept at an abandoned meat locker until they can transport her out,” he said, his expression unreadable. “We don’t have much time.”


“Where will they take her,” I asked, panic churned again in the pit of my stomach.


“They won’t be taking her anywhere… we’re going to get her out before it happens.”


“How,” I asked, perplexed and curious about what he had in mind. The mattress sunk slightly as he sat next to me with his backpack on the floor in front of him.  He unzipped it and pulled out two Militia uniforms.


“My contact and another guy are standing guard there now… they change at three where two Militia will come and change post... We will show up as her transport.”


“Sounds too easy,” I said, my sarcasm hissed off my tongue at what we needed to accomplish. Sonja’s life depended on it.


“It’s going to be risky, but we’ll get her out.”


I wished I felt as confident as he sounded. I let out a heavy sigh and rested my head back against the wall. “They have her in a meat locker?” I asked as I remembered back to where he said they took her.


“Morrison’s resources for housing prisoners in the city are limited since Kane took over the jail… if he wants to hold on to someone he has to ship them to the jail in Mountain Dell… and even then, it’s not as nice as the one he lost in the city.”


“I know what its’ like,” I said rather harsh, more so than I meant. “And it’s far from nice.”


“Sorry, bad choice of words,” he sighed as he fumbled with the strap of his backpack. I shuttered involuntarily at the thought of the jail. The cold cement walls all too painfully familiar as I struggled to remain indifferent to the mention of the horrific place. My heart began to race and heat flooded to my cheeks as the chill of goose bumps skittered up my arms.


I glanced at Dante, his eyes brimmed with silent questioning as his look fixed on mine but he remained quiet. I dropped my gaze to my hands as I waited impatiently for the next hour to pass.


“If we don’t get her out… Morrison will…” My voice wavered at the thought of what could be happening to Sonja at the very moment. I couldn’t continue, I couldn’t say the words. I knew all too well what Morrison was capable of and from my horrific experience with the man, I knew he had no boundaries.


“I know,” he said, his voice low as he unzipped his backpack, unwilling to look at me, to save me from explaining the pain. I felt him nudge his shoulder a little closer as if to comfort me. “We’ll get her out.”


His eyes flicked to mine, his expression unreadable and confusing as I felt he saw right through me, and saw more than I wanted him to see. A saddened expression leaked into his eyes which unnerved me as he watched me intently. The air between us thick and heavy as he decreased the space between us and I suddenly knew why as he leaned forward and kissed me. The kiss foreign and uncomfortable, more due to my own frigidness than his soft lips.


I gasped as I pulled away from him. “Dante, no,” I said, with his lips inches from mine as I pressed my back into the wall. “Please… I’m…” I hesitated as his eyes searched mine.


“Why?” He asked, his voice husky in his throat. “Is it because of what Damian did to you?”


“No!    Yes… I mean…” I stuttered as I gasped for breath, “in part… he scarred me, yes, but… even though I may not be ready to be close to anyone and have a lot I need to figure out… I love Gage.”


“Oh,” he said, his voice weighted with disappointment. He sat forward and adjusted the contents in his bag.


“I’m sorry… I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but…”


“Hey, you don’t have to explain to me,” he said as he stood and walked towards the door carrying his bag.


“Where are you going?” The panic and alarm unhinged my fragile reserves as I suddenly felt my heart hammer in my chest at the thought of him leaving me here by myself.


“To change.”


“Oh.”


“You don’t trust anyone, do you,” he asked. Frustration building in his sleep deprived eyes. “Do you think I would just leave?”


“I don’t know,” I said, apologetic and ashamed. “You wouldn’t would you?”


“Jade, just because you won’t kiss me, doesn’t mean I’ve suddenly changed sides. I’m not that shallow… I tried, I got shot down. It wasn’t the first time, I’m sure it won’t be the last time a girl told me no… I’m a bigger man than that, I wouldn’t leave you to fend for yourself against the Militia.” His voice sounded bitter and the look in his eyes, hurt by me.


“I’m sorry, thank you for helping me.”


“You’re welcome… you can’t blame me for trying. I won’t do it again, but I had to once,” he said, a friendly smile curled his upper lip. He held out his hand. “Friends? All a man’s got anymore is his word… we good?”


I took his hand. “We’re good.”


“Okay, put that uniform over your clothes and let’s go get Sonja,” he glanced at me smiling, then as if an afterthought, a questioning look formed on his face. “You can shoot, can’t you?”


I gave him an instant scowl. “I shot Jackson didn’t I… Of course I can shoot.”


“Good, because you might need to. I wasn’t sure if that was just a lucky shot,” he grinned, I smiled back, his jesting recognized and I didn’t take offense for long.


He left the room as I unlaced my boots then pulled them off and slipped the black Militia pants over my own then reached for the jacket. He returned after a few minutes, dressed like Militia and sat next to me. “Ready?” He asked.


Suddenly, gunshots sputtered through the air in the distant night and I froze in place. Dante’s eyes shot up to the bedroom door before us as we suddenly grew quiet. Our breaths loud in the silence, too loud in my own over-exaggerated mind and I worried we would be found. He stood and stalked down the hall and I followed as he hid behind thick curtains and peered out the front bay window.


“The resistance is gaining ground,” he said. The words from his mouth sounded everything but encouraging but in spite of his alarm, a surge of hope raced through my chest.


“That’s good, right?” I asked, questioning his caustic tone.


“No… that’s not good, not yet. We need to get to Sonja first… and we’ll be dressed as Militia.”


The gravity of the situation suddenly took hold with a bristling of fear that roughed my insides. “Oh…” My only response. I sat on a couch, a light plume of dust clouded around me, visible through the glowing moonlight, and I proceeded to slip my boots back on. I laced them tight with quick, trembling fingers as my nerves buzzed internally. He stood before me and tossed me a hat that he pulled from his backpack and I slipped it on, tucking my hair underneath.


Suddenly, a spray of bullets shattered the glass before us. I screamed, startled as shards of razor sharp edges rained onto us. Dante pulled me to the ground and ducked around me.


“Are they shooting at us?” I asked, frantic. My heart pounded in my chest.


“I don’t think so,” he whispered back, then added, “we’re probably caught in the crossfire.”


Huddled on the floor, I listened to men’s voices, agitated and rushed, and then someone else shouted orders. I heard scuffling on the street not far from our refuge and I prayed they didn’t choose to storm our place.


“But I don’t want to stick around to find out,” he said as he looked down at me, huddled underneath him. Close enough to feel him breathe with the movements of his chest, his arms tight around me. I could barely see his face in the shadows of the couch we hid in front of and I couldn’t see his eyes, but I imagined they would be their usual warm brown.


“Me either,” I said, our jackets rustled against each other as he moved off of me. He crouched to his knees as another spray of bullets whizzed through the air around us. Muffled pings from the bullets hit into the couch, inches above us as he dropped to the ground again. I curled into the fetal position, my arms covering my head. I heard footsteps running up a sidewalk, closer to the front door as the gunfire continued with a gurgled painful cry that abruptly stopped with a thud to the ground, then all grew silent.


“Let’s go,” he whispered, his breath hot against my cheek as he nudged me forward. I crawled close to the carpet with Dante behind me into the hall and to the back bedroom. “The window,” he instructed before I had a chance to question. He reached for his backpack and pulled out a round, black can.


“If you want to look official, you need to wear this,” he said as he opened the can and wiped what looked like black shoe polish on his face. I looked at him stunned, my brows peaked with disbelief.


“Are you serious?”


“Dead serious. The militia will be wearing it tonight and it will make you less recognizable,” he said as he handed it to me. I hesitated. “Wear it.”


I took it and wiped some across my forehead, cheeks, nose and chin as he wiped his hands on his pants. I handed him the can and he put it in the pack then slung it over his shoulder as I jammed my pistol into the back of my jeans.


The glass squeaked as I slowly opened the window, enough for us to crawl through. Dante clasped his hands together and gave me a boost into the window sill. I scanned the back yard, the moonlight reflecting a silvery hue on an aluminum shed in the corner, the grass between the house and fence line, a sea of black. I curled up my legs, confident there wasn’t Militia or members of the resistance waiting for us, and twisted onto my belly. The cold metal tracking of the window sill gouged into my forearms as I lowered myself down into the bushes below. Dante followed.


The sharp sounds of gunshots far in the distance continued sporadically and less frequent into the otherwise quiet night, then stopped all together, the eerie silence just as ominous as I mentally prepared myself for whatever lie ahead.