Jaded Warriors book 2 (Jade Series)

Chapter 32

Chapter 32





“Okay, let’s go,” she said, as we pulled into another covered parking garage and stopped by a door. She shut off the engine and stepped out. I tightened the hood of my jacket closer around me then opened the truck door and stepped out with cautious intent, my claustrophobia waning as I breathed the cool air. An odor of truck exhaust, old offensive garbage and strangely, farm animals insulted my nose. I scanned my surroundings only to see two dumpsters overflowing with trash littering the oil stained asphalt and a walled off pen with a dozen chickens and a milking goat knee deep in straw, eating a meager meal of table scraps. 


She dropped down the tailgate with a thud as a plump older woman wearing a grungy apron met us with two teenage boys at her side. One older and taller than the other, both lean with gaunt cheeks. “Jump inside and push two buckets of flour and six of those boxes up,” she said, the expression in her brown eyes unreadable. I assumed she meant me since no one else stepped forward and I followed her instructions without questions asked.


I slid the heavy boxes forward one at a time, filled with potatoes, sugar, eggs and frozen meat. Cardboard scraping against the rivets of the bed of the truck as the boys grabbed them and took each one inside. They returned for another with empty boxes in hand filled with empty egg cartons and jars. My hair dropped into my eyes as I leaned forward and I quickly brushed it behind my ear, displacing my hood. The taller boy glanced at me briefly as he flipped up the handles and picked up the two five gallon buckets. His eyes filled with abandoned hope lit with a glimmer of recognition then he continued without much more acknowledgment of my presence. They carried them in without much difficulty, apparently still strong in spite of their gaunt appearance.


Sonja gestured to me with a nod of her head and I followed her in a nervous haze down a long dark hallway. Lanterns flickered and contrasting shadows dripped down the walls as whispers floated through the air from a room at the end. A brighter light spilled into the hallway with sharp angles and we walked inside to what looked like a commercialized kitchen with a huge pantry with sliding doors. The woman opened them, exposing the bare cupboards as she stocked the goods from the boxes we brought.


An olive skinned, barrel chested man looked up from his hushed conversation with the taller boy, not much older than me, and walked with brisk steps towards Sonja. The man’s eyes dark and questioning under furrowed brows then he turned his stony stare to me as he took his time to study me. Maybe to decide whether or not, I posed a threat.


“You know I expect you to come alone, Sonja,” he said, his voice, low and threatening. His jaw clenched with a slight quiver under a shadow of whiskers. Sonja stood unmoved, her eyes challenging.


“She’s harmless, Tovar,” she said, with an equally calloused tone. “Are you hungry or not… I could always give the food to the psycho’s under the bridge.”


“I have your hit list,” he said, the husky shrillness in his voice sent a shiver up my spine as he pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and unfolded it. He reached for glasses in his inside coat pocket and placed them over the bridge of his nose. He looked over the rim briefly at Sonja, then back to the list. “Third on the list, Richard Kennington.”


“We believe he’s dead,” Sonja said quickly as my heart surged with dizzying speed. “He didn’t survive the virus.”


He glared at me once again, his eyes impatient and restless. “Second, Kane Kennington… which is to be expected, considering…  then first on the list,” he paused, his glare shifted back and forth between me and Sonja, morbid suspense gnawing a hole in my gut, two of the top three, my flesh and blood. He shook his head in disbelief as he held the paper up. “I expected Mike Johnston or Spencer Prescott… Maybe Joel Michaels. They are on the list too, but this… this shocks me.”


“Who is it?”


“First… Jade Kennington.”


Air sucked from my lungs as my chest constricted against my frozen heart. His words distant in my mind as if I heard them under water. I couldn’t move to save my life and I wondered more than ever, where this man’s loyalty truly lied.


I watched the exchange between the two, their eyes fixed with silent feuding as the color leaked from Sonja’s face. The boy stiffened as he glanced at me briefly and I swallowed hard at the sudden dryness in my throat.


“A teenage girl, Sonja,” he said, his voice slightly raised, not in anger, but hectic teetering between a crippling fear, maybe unsure if he could protect those he loved if targeted by Morrison’s perverseness or a forced indifference to turn a blind eye to the rumors of what he and Damian had done to me. “I have a teenage daughter of my own… and two orphaned nieces that I have to think of first.”


“Which is why you should join us,” Sonja said, with growing tension in her voice. The vein through her forehead bulged and pulsed with energy.


“Look, I understand why this started, if the rumors are even true,” he said, then glanced back at the paper and started to crumble it in his hand. She snatched it from him, without opposition then she smoothed it and scanned over the list.  “But… the top three are Kennington’s… this sounds more like a feud between families.”


“It’s far more than that and you know it… I need your decision,” she said, her jaw rippled as she clenched her teeth tight.


“I need more than a few boxes of food to know we’ll be taken care of.”


“I’ve been providing you with food for three months now.”


“Prescott’s men are barely holding the Militia back now, they’ve lost huge supplies of weapons, and it’s only a matter of time before Morrison gets the better of them. I won’t allow my family to fall victim to Morrison by association with the resistance. We may not have much, but we don’t have Morrison breathing down our backs either.”


“That’s not true, he may be hitting the front hard, but I’m telling you, we have Morrison on the run… What more do you want?”


“We need weapons. Kane promised weapons but I have yet to see them. If we let the resistance in, we need to be able to defend ourselves.”


“As soon as you promise your loyalty, you’ll have weapons… you’re a smart man. You must understand Kane’s position… he’s not going to give you weapons if you are going to turn around and use them against him. It doesn’t work that way.”


“Get the weapons, then we’ll talk.”


“I can’t do that… there has to be something else.”


“I want proof they’re serious… how do I know they aren’t going to tuck tail and run when it gets ugly.”


“I don’t know what dream you’re in but it’s been ugly for a long time. But despite that, we are gaining ground… Jackson is dead… it’s only just a matter of time, we can take them if you join us.”


“Rumors… that’s just a rumor… I heard his son Casey killed him… but I don’t believe it,” he paused, then glanced at me briefly with lightless eyes, eyes so dark, they hid his pupils. His glare shifted back to Sonja. “Did you see him yourself?”


“No, I didn’t see him, and I don’t know who killed him… all I know is he’s dead.”


“Some say he’s alive, that the rumors of his death are just a front by the resistance to gain support and to get Damian out of hiding, Morrison’s denying he’s dead.”


“He is dead,” I said, my voice erupted louder than I expected, filled with firm conviction as the room grew quiet. Tovar turned his attention to me as did the boy who stood next to him, who I assumed with the uncanny resemblance, to be his son. The angle of the extending shadows caused by the flickering lantern cast dark shadows in the recesses of the boy’s face, just under his cheekbones. His father, half of his face shaded as I stepped forward to the edge of the table and pushed the hood off my head. The boy’s eyes grew wide, then narrowed slightly.


He whispered something to Tovar and I strained to listen to their muffled tones but unable to hear, I watched them with steely resolve. My insides grew numb with terror as Tovar looked at me with a questioning glare. He searched my face, settling on my bruised eye then traveled down to the wrap on my arm. I hoped my injuries didn’t portray me as weak in their eyes. Regardless of how weak and insignificant I felt, I needed to come across strong.


“My son says he knows you, he played against you in a soccer tournament,” he said, as he eyed me with shrewd suspicion which I believed had absolutely nothing to do with a soccer game and I silently questioned his motives. He knew something, more than he led on. “What’s your name?”


The room suddenly closed in around me, the cement walls eerily resembled those of the jail and I felt myself begin to panic inside, I just became discovered. My fragile insides concealed by forged boldness as I refused to let him deter me. His eyes narrowed, waiting for my response and I wondered if a handful of militia stood on the other side of the door, waiting for conformation of my identity.


“Then your son knows firsthand what it’s like to be on the wrong side… and lose… do you really want to make that mistake again, when it really counts… My name is Jade Kennington,” I paused, then offered my hand over the table. He reached forward slowly and gripped my hand with counterfeit coolness as the color seeped from his face. His shocked eyes studied mine, then suddenly he released me as if the physical contact grew suddenly too risky. “I’m Kane’s sister… Jackson is dead and I know this because… I killed him.”


Sonja drew in a sharp breath behind me, stunned by my words as I absorbed Tovar’s stare with silent agony.  His expression slightly askew that Jade Kennington stood before him, but the surprise on his face, non-existent as if he already knew the details of Jackson’s death but hadn’t accepted me as Jackson’s killer.


“So the rumors are true,” he said, more in a statement, than a question.


I dropped my gaze and ran my finger along the dust covered table as I walked around it to face him, my eyes flicked up and bore into his. “This isn’t news to you is it? You heard how Jackson died first hand… didn’t you? And not by Kane,” I asked, suddenly irritated by the games he played. “Maybe by one of the Militia you’re giving information to,” I said, as I held my gaze and looked him in the eye. His squandered loyalty and breach of trust to both sides evident in his eyes as the boy watched with anxious anticipation of the heated exchange between me and his father. “They attacked our camp, but a few of them did get away… you just didn’t believe them that a girl, as small as me could pull something off like killing Morrison’s head of Militia.”


“I can’t believe you brought her here,” he said, as he glared briefly at Sonja behind me, then he turned to me, enraged that I challenged his smug hypocrisy. “You are in dangerous territory little girl.”


My fear lie just below the surface, hidden by a mantling smile and a raise of my brows. My mind alert and ready to counter his every move. “I’ve heard that before.” My heart hammered in my constricting chest which made it difficult to breathe as we stood face to face and my stare met his. “Am I proof enough for you to join us?” I asked, in an attempt to sway him as he continued to glare at me with loathsome oppression, as if I were to blame for his family’s hunger.  “Let me guess… not one loaf of bread has come from Morrison... He won’t help you,” I said, impassive to his dilemma. “And we won’t for long… where do you think this food comes from. It comes from our farm, from Kane… Not the government, not stolen from Morrison, from us,” I paused briefly and shrugged my shoulders, boredom laced through my tone. “Look… I know you can’t possibly want what he wants.”


“How can you be so sure?”


I glanced at the little girl who peeked around the doorway, bashful and shy, with fear in her eyes. I had no idea when she appeared as she watched me with widened eyes. “Because you have a family... and Morrison is out to destroy the whole idea of family. You think you’re protecting them by staying neutral… and I don’t blame you for thinking that way… but you’re not,” I said, then I moved closer with steely resolve. “Whether you’ve chosen a side or not… this will go down. We’ll take the city. Not choosing is the worst mistake you could make, do you know why?”


“I think you’re about to tell me.”


“Because then… everyone knows you can’t be trusted, you’ll become the weasel who crawls back and forth to the highest bidder… Morrison will slaughter you… and we won’t protect you… you’ve given us no reason to. Why would we if you’ve sold us out?”


“Does your brother know you’re here?” He asked, his voice low and threatening and his eyes narrowed as he shifted the direction of the conversation to me.


“No,” I said, with a scowl of my own. “He doesn’t need to know everything I do, he has enough to worry about. I support him and believe in what my brother fights for… he’s risked his life for me, over and over again… I’ll do whatever I can to help him beat Morrison. I don’t need to explain to you my reasons.”


“Get her out of here before she’s discovered,” he said, his surly tone sent a surge of panic through me as I held his stony stare with one of my own. Sonja tugged at my arm and pulled me towards the door.


“Dad!” I jumped, stunned by the boy’s intrusion as he stepped forward and grabbed Tovar’s muscled forearm. The man’s face turned red in anger as his son challenged his authority. “Don’t do this!”


“Stay out of this!” He turned on his son, his chest puffed and shoulders squared. His face reddened with a pulsating vein that ran down the side of his temple.


“No!” His son paused. “I won’t… if you won’t do something, I-”


“Enough!” Tovar yelled cutting him off, their expressions tense and heated, and then he turned to us, his hands clenched into fists as we reached the doorway. “Sonja!” My heart hammered in my chest then quickly subsided as the hardened expression on his face softened slightly, his shoulders slumped as he sighed. “I thought you said she was harmless?”


Her expression grew smug as she stared at him, waiting for his next response. “What’s it going to be, Tovar?”


“Morrison is planning another attack…one week, tell Kane I’ll join him and I’ll meet him tomorrow night as he offered to discuss what I know.”


“He’ll be there,” she said.


Tovar turned to his son. “Go with them… make sure they make it out of Militia territory.”


***


The stunned expression on Sonja’s face, became visible under the dome light of the truck as we climbed inside and it caused me to shift uncomfortably. I felt her blank stare, questioning with secret interest like she had no idea who the girl she just left with was, and I wondered what she truly thought of me. I scooted next to her as the boy climbed in pinning me between the two of them.


I glanced over to see him watching me, studying me, the hopelessness I saw earlier in his eyes gone, replaced by rousing seriousness as if an internal drive shifted into gear and prepared him for what lay ahead. I saw the look many times, in Gage, in Kane, a refusal to succumb to a dictator without a fight.


We rode in silence to the next few stops, stopping only long enough to drop off the boxed goods. My mind became lost in a numbing haze as I stared straight ahead. I didn’t realize snow started to fall until I became lost in its trance and Sonja nudged me with her elbow, pulling me out of my whirling fog.


“Jade, did you hear me?”


“What?” I asked, startled by her as my heavy eyes met hers. She studied me closely. “I’ll be a few minutes, I need to talk to them, but I won’t be long… will you be okay out here?”


“Yeah,” I paused, as she gave a quick glance to the boy next to me, forgotten by me until now. I offered a fleeting smile. “I’ll be fine.”


She left me alone in the buzzing silence, the strain in the air, thick as butter as I continued to stare straight ahead. The shock of the events moments before, slowly melted away and my insides began to churn as a knot grew in my throat.


My heart grew heavy as I gave him a sidelong glance. He sat just as quiet but he was far from calm. His leg bounced with pent up energy as his foot tapped on the floor and his eyes darted about as he scanned our surroundings, his mind alert and his hands restless. He ran a quick hand through his hair and sighed.


I knew he sat on the verge of starting conversation, but what? He said he knew me, I wondered if he knew Trey, too. I hoped he didn’t want to reminisce about a time when life wasn’t filled with complications and life altering decisions. Life before the virus existed a long time ago and seemed non-existent anymore, like it belonged only in my dreams. To talk about soccer felt disrespectful and pointless and I prayed he didn’t bring it up.


“Where’s Trey?” He asked, breaking the nauseating silence, then he looked at me, his eyes filled with purpose and driving fascination that I wished I possessed. “From what I knew of you two, you and Trey were never apart… did he join the resistance?”


Relief filled my heart as well as an overwhelming sadness by the direction of his questions. At the sound of Trey’s name, tears streamed instantly, unrestrained down my cheeks and I looked away. I let my eyes close. A tear dropped from my chin with the painful memory as I answered. “Trey’s dead,” I said, it came out a raspy whisper, but I knew he heard me as I sensed his shoulders drop with the weight of my words. I looked through the blur of moisture at the white blizzard out the window. I felt him shift in the seat as he turned to face me and I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder with a silent gesture as he tightened his grip.


“I couldn’t stand it any longer,” he said, his voice edgy with pioneering drive. I was relieved he changed the subject. “I was leaving tonight… I was going to leave my dad and my brother and sister behind and find the resistance… I was going to join Kane on my own without him. I don’t know how you changed his mind, but you did.”


I glanced up at him as I wiped the moisture from my cheeks. His eyes wild with a resilient spirit, ready for what lie ahead and undeterred by the imminent threat of violence and possible death. Then his eyes softened, exposing a sensitive side of him that surprised me. “I’m sorry about Trey.”


“Thank you,” I said, then swallowed at the disappearing knot in my throat.


“I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself first. I don’t expect you to remember me,” he said, then held out his hand to shake mine. “I’m Dante Tovar… I went to Bluff Ridge High a few blocks from here.”


From what I remembered, Bluff Ridge High was Little Creeks biggest rival.  I took his hand with slight hesitation as he gripped mine with the utmost softness. I remembered the rival between schools, not the friendliest of competition, apparently not his views now since I recognized kindness in his eyes as warm as their coffee color. “Jade.”


“Yeah, I know… I knew it was you when I saw you in the truck.”


Our conversation cut short and I jumped out of my skin, startled, as the door suddenly opened and I whipped my head around to see Sonja step into the truck.


“We need to hurry,” she said, then paused as she looked at me. Alarm registered in her eyes but went unsaid. “It’s almost ten.”


My eyes widened, I forgot about the time.


“I’ll drop you off and park the truck,” Dante said quickly.


“No, that’s okay,” Sonja glanced at me, then shifted her attention to him. “It’s miles from your home, you’ll never make it back in time. You should go… thank you, Dante, we’ll be okay from here.”


“Are you sure,” he asked, concern in his eyes as he looked at me, then back to Sonja.


“Yeah, go… I’ll see you in a week,” she said with a smile. “And don’t let your dad change his mind.”


“Not a chance,” he said, as he stepped out of the truck, then disappeared into the camouflaged night.


***


I checked my watch as we made it to the edge of the trees. Ten fifteen. I looked behind us, nothing but a snowy whiteness as the heavy flakes covered our tracks. I breathed a sigh, they would disappear soon.


A rush of icy panic stiffened my soul as tears threatened to unleash again. My mind whirled with torment and mortified coldness at the thought of what I’d done as I tried to force the thoughts out of my head but failed. Too many men dead by my direct hands, Jackson and Quinn, father and son, not to mention the two nameless Militia on either side of Jackson and at least four more that I could think of on that fateful night.


I wasn’t sure who set the pace, whether Sonja felt rushed to get home or I did, but before I knew it, I trudged my heavy boots through the airy snow at a jog with her at my side. My body, warmed from exertion grew moist as a bead of sweat trickled down my chest. My breaths increased as did the pounding of my heart as I ran towards home. The muscles in my legs burned as did my lungs as I forged on, unwilling to stop, afraid that if I did my world would crumble around me.


I stretched out and ran faster, as the distance grew between me and Sonja with her to my back. The ache in my heart grew unbearable but pain I deserved just the same so I continued. The cold night air dampened my eyes as the thick heavy flakes settled in my hair and melted on my hot skin. Tears streamed down my already moist skin, thankfully hidden by the snowy night.


I looked up and saw the gait fifty feet ahead. Relief and disappointment bubbled in my chest with an end in sight to the painful torture I put myself through, an end I didn’t feel I deserved as I felt my energy leave me. I counted the steps, thirty feet away, and then fifteen.


“Jade!  Wait!” Sonja yelled through exertion forced breaths.


I looked up as a dark figure emerged from the shadows and stepped onto the trail in front of me. I squealed in surprise as he reached for me. Him, too close for me to dodge away and myself, too tired to attempt an escape, then I recognized his face as I sank into the snow and collapsed to my knees as my arm slipped from his grasp.