Jaded Warriors book 2 (Jade Series)

Chapter 27

Chapter 27


I walked through the tent, stood in the doorway and stared at the only surviving Militia member still in camp with calloused judgment until he finally looked away. His life spared by my empty pistol, my life spared because he fell for my bluff. He knew nothing of me, had no idea who I was. For all he knew, I was a trained killer just like him, just like the others, not afraid to take a man’s life. In my own mind I wasn’t strong, I wasn’t brave, and I fought against tears as the shock wore off. I wasn’t used to seeing men drop dead around me, and from my own hands. But for a moment as his head hung low, I felt at the very least, equaled, that he didn’t see me that way and that he couldn’t look me in the eye for more than a few seconds. I stared at him with vague melancholy as I wondered, if I had bullets in my gun, would he still be here, would he still be alive? It pained me to see how much of this fighting seemed unnecessary and I realized, I couldn’t answer my own question.


“Do you want me to take him out?” Gage asked, as he pulled me from my thoughts.


“I’m fine,” I said, sharper than I intended and my jaw clenched tight as I swallowed at the knot in my throat. I tried to remain indifferent that I had to be in the same med tent as the guy who tried to kill me, it wasn’t easy. I walked over to Dr. Ashton and let my jacket and bulletproof vest drop off as sat on the table. I glanced up at Gage who stood next to me, his expression unreadable. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice hushed. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”


A faint, crooked smile curled at the corner of his lip as he shook his head then chuckled under his breath. I knew I’d been forgiven.


“How’s your chest?” He asked as he tugged at the neck of my shirt. I grabbed it suddenly, pressing my shirt firmly against my chest to prevent him from looking. I instantly regretted it as the tenderness of the bruise throbbed with intensity, but I didn’t want him to see the tattoo, which like the bruise from the bullet, marked me just over my heart.


He gave me a cautious look as he studied me closer. His eyes bore into mine questions about why I acted so strange all of a sudden. With puppy dog eyes I held his gaze then carefully looked under my shirt and stared at the red welt that formed inches above the tattoo. I pulled the neck of my shirt down just enough so he could inspect it.


“You’re going to have a massive bruise there… Do you want some ice?” He asked.


“Yeah,” I said, then he walked to the next table and grabbed a bag from a cooler, prepackaged with crunchy ice from the old snow outside, prepared earlier today to store for future battles. He draped it over my shoulder and set it carefully against my chest.  “Thank you… we need to get that bullet wound of yours looked at.”


“You first,” he said, then tugged gently at the cuff of the thermal sleeve around my wrist. The slightest move enraged my already tender, bruised chest and the pain in my arm grew to a pulsing throb. I winced as he helped me pull my arm out of my shirt and I stared blankly at my blood soaked arm for the first time. Prickly goose bumps crawled across my bare shoulder and my partially exposed back from the cold.


A two inch gash, straight and clean about an inch deep sliced into my arm just below my shoulder. Congealed blood streaked down my arm, crusted at the edges and around the borders of the wound.


“Nothing a few stitches won’t fix,” Dr. Ashton said, then offered a smile. Steam rose from a bucket of clean soapy water as he set it on the table next to me then proceeded to set out a syringe with a clear substance in it along with a J hook with what looked like fishing line bolted like thread.


“I’ve got it,” Gage said, then gave a sideways glance to the doctor as he turned the spout at the bottom of the bucket to a trickle and washed his hands and wrists up to his forearms.


“I’ll take all the help I can get,” he replied, as he turned to leave and attend to another patient, “just numb it with the lidocaine first… then small stitches.”


With a raise of my brows I gave Gage a questioning glance as he wrung his hands on a clean towel, then I asked. “Have you done this before?”


“Nope,” he said, then grinned as his soft blue eyes found mine. “Do you trust me?”


“Of course,” I smiled, charmed by his thoughtfulness and gesture to take care of me. “How do you know how?”


“I’ve watched… it can’t be too hard,” he said, as he pulled a wash cloth from the water. His fingers curled around my whole arm as he held it in place. He washed over the wound with gentle, feather like strokes until he wiped the blood clean and the raw, fleshy gash appeared.


My smile turned instantly to a scowl and I flinched slightly as he injected the needle and withdrew it repeatedly around the gash, pressing the liquid into my arm. The painful throbbing shifted to a dull sting then a puffy, numbing sensation as the effects of the lidocaine worked.


A warm prickly sensation crawled across my tongue and I swallowed hard as a wave of nausea rushed over me at the sight of the J hook piercing my body and poking through on the other side. He pulled it taut as my skin pinched together. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I grew dizzy and I had to turn away. “Tell me when you’re done,” I said, as I stared at the canvas tent wall.


“Are you going to pass out?”


“No!” I said, then turned to scowl at him, purposely avoiding the sight of my arm, then turned away again, focusing on the tent wall. Not completely sure I wouldn’t pass out as my surroundings started to whirl. “I’m not going to pass out,” I whispered, more in an attempt to convince myself, than to Gage.


I heard him chuckle as I focused my attention elsewhere and glanced around the makeshift med tent. Dr. Ashton along with another man worked on men with more serious wounds. The guy I encountered, received stitches to his head by a woman I hadn’t seen before. I briefly felt sorry for him, then I forced the thought from my head as I reminded myself, why I had to hit him.


“Is he done yet?” I turned to the tent opening to see Kane walk in and question the woman.


“Almost,” she said.


He impatiently scanned the tent, his eyes softened as they settled on me then he made his way over and inspected Gage’s work.


“Hmm,” he said, sounding slightly impressed as Gage worked on me. His hair tousled and stood on end. His hands clasped behind his head in an anxious manner, attempting to quiet restless hands. A mixture of blood and black char smudged on his face. “How many stitches so far?”


“Fifteen…”


He sighed deeply as the look in his eyes changed from worried interest to distressing regret as his jaw grew tense. He looked at me with pain etched into his worn face. “I’m sorry you had to be the one to shoot Jackson.”


My insides jittered with sudden anxiety as my mind replayed the shot. His head bobbing back, the sway of his body before he fell to his knees, the image burned forever into my head. I swallowed at a knot that suddenly grew in my throat at the thought of a different outcome. I forced a smile, unwilling to let my brother know the panic I still felt.


“I’m fine… I’m just glad you’re okay,” I said, as he curled his arm around my neck and gave me a squeeze. His way of saying thank you, then he scanned the tent at the injured.


My eyes glossed over, then for a distraction I glanced at the tiny, stiff stitches, knotted on my arm as Gage finished up. They protruded out of my skin, lined straight and close together, the open gash gone. “Thank you,” I said, as my eyes met his.


“You’re welcome,” he said, then chuckled under his breath as he taped gauze over it, “and I’d say anytime, but hopefully you won’t need stitches again.”


I smiled as he pulled my jacket up over my bare arm to shield me from the cold and wandering eyes as he noticed the guy look my way.


“What’s his name?”


“Dylan,” Kane said.


“What are you going to do with him?” I asked Kane, as I looked over his shoulder at Dylan, the teenage boy, corrupted by Morrison’s wacked ideals.


“I’m going to interrogate him then I’m going to send him to the jail… he’ll sit there until I decide what to do with him. We don’t usually take prisoners. The militia is pretty ruthless and don’t usually live to see the inside of the jail.”


I felt my cheeks pale at the mention of the jail and my horrific memories of my own interrogation by Morrison and Jackson. I drew in a jagged breath as I studied Kane’s eyes. “Don’t give me that look… We aren’t malicious and sadistic like Morrison. I won’t brutally harass him, there are other ways of getting someone to talk… don’t worry. Okay?”


“Thanks,” I said, as relief settled into my eyes followed by a burn that threatened to evolve into tears. I wasn’t sure why I cared how he treated his prisoners, but I did. As crazy as it sounded, I wanted them treated fairly. I couldn’t stand the thought of another person, evil or not, being tortured the way they tortured me.


At that moment Casey entered the tent. After a brief scan over he found us and weaved through the injured to get to us. His smile grew but seemed forged as the light in his eyes, far from happy, leaked sadness. I looked at him closer then drew in a quick breath, startled by the realization, I killed his dad.


“Casey… I’m sorry-”


“No,” he said, as he cut me off. The jittery rush I felt moments ago grew with intensity and weakened my reserves as I held back my emotions.  His jaw tensed as he stepped in front of me and glanced at Gage quickly, then back to me. “We’ve talked about this day once, me and Gage… Joel and Kane,” he paused briefly, “the day we all knew would come when we came head to head with my dad. You weren’t there, so I want you to know… I said it then and I’ll say it now, if I were in your position today myself… I wouldn’t hesitate taking him out. I’m proud of you and you should be too… this is huge.”


“Are you sure you aren’t upset with me?”


“No,” he smiled, then glanced at Gage and Kane. “You know this is huge… Morrison won’t take this lightly when he finds out… and he’ll find out soon, a few got away.”


“And when he retaliates, we’ll be ready and waiting,” Kane said. I noticed he clutched his injured side, still waiting for a quieter time. He needed time to heal, a time that for him, may never come.


“Are you okay?” Gage asked, his eyes shifted with a fleeting glance down to Kane’s splinted side and back again, as he recognized what I saw.


“I’m fine,” Kane said, and shot him a steely glare, then snapped. “Back to the problem at hand, Gage.”


“Okay… and back in camp? What are you going to say?”


“No one needs to know Jade was the one who shot him,” he said, a sudden fierceness in his eyes, unfazed by the apparent pain in his wounds. “I don’t want anyone to know.”


“I shot him,” Casey said, his glare towards the ground, stoic, his voice unyielding.


“Let the others know then,” Kane said, quickly satisfied with Casey’s response.


“Wait… are you sure?” Gage asked. “Corrupt or not… He was your dad… your blood. It doesn’t have to be you.”


“Yeah,” he paused, a fleeting pain surfaced in his eyes as his jaw tensed. He stared past us, lost momentarily in a different time, perhaps a time of his past not so easily forgotten and a time, we would never know about.  “He may be my father, my flesh and blood, but he stopped being my dad a long time ago… The day he killed my mother… It should be me.”


***








I could sense Kane’s tension on the drive back to base camp as I sat between him and Gage. His jaw tensed as he gripped tighter to the steering wheel, his knuckles growing increasingly white. The quiet amongst us didn’t help and grew heavier by the minute. I looked into the darkness before us. The yellow lines past by in a hypnotic blur that added to the numbness I already felt. The throbbing ache in my chest from the bullet and the stinging burn in my arm from the stitches refused to let me zone out completely.


Suddenly, he punched the dash, apparently unable to contain his anger. I jumped, startled and looked at my brother with questioning eyes. His shoulders slumped with fatigue as the strain of the war grew more evident, etched in the planes of his frustrated expression. “I guess Morrison gained the railroad at Mountain Dell,” he said, breaking the silence as he continued to stare straight ahead at the road.


“Tonight?” Gage asked as he looked past me to Kane.


“Yeah, Olivia radioed me when I was in the guard tower… just before Jackson showed up. We took some losses there.”


“How did they gain control of the railroad?” I asked.


“He’s always had the railroad… or at least large sections of it. We just had it so they couldn’t get past Mountain Dell, he must have broken through… we can’t seem to get ahead, it’s like he’s one step ahead of us. How did Jackson know where we’d be tonight?”


“Someone had to tell him we were moving camp,” Gage added. I could see them both replaying the events of earlier in their minds as they tried to figure out what went wrong.


“Yeah… I know it’s crazy, but… It’s like they’ve been preparing for this for years. I don’t know, like they’ve just been waiting for the day when something would happen… expected it even.”


“They have been planning this for years,” I said as I stared out the window into the dark night, still entranced by the headlights against the blur of yellow stripes. My heart sank as the memory of the compound painfully entered my mind, forgotten until now. No, not forgotten, denied, forced deep into the shadows of my mind.


“What?” Kane asked. I didn’t answer.


My mom and millions of others were dead, because of him. What Morrison had done and continued to do wasn’t circumstantial. An act of terrorism. Morrison’s attempt to dictate over so many, the Militia, the fight for our lives, this was planned, premeditated. Morrison committed murder on such a grand scale that unless you already knew, he wouldn’t be suspected. To the world it was a pandemic, one of a few over the last five years but much larger. Predicted by some scientists and seemed to be the basis of some heated debates.


“What do you mean?” Gage asked, sitting upright as he turned towards me. I couldn’t look at him so I stared at his faint reflection in the window as I spoke, more to myself and the air between us than actually to Gage or my brother. Shocked still, by what Morrison had done. “Morrison started the virus.”


“He… What?” I looked down at my hands and could almost feel Gage’s eyes on me, his shocked expression as he looked at me in disbelief.


“What did you say?” My brother added as I suddenly found myself stuck in the middle and interrogated by the both of them. My chest grew tight as the air thickened around me.


“Morrison started the virus.” I shook myself from my stupor.


“No…”Gage’s voice trailed off. “You’re saying that Morrison started a worldwide pandemic? No way. It’s one thing to try to take over after all hell breaks loose, someone had to… but to start it?”


“I saw the files in his office.”


“What files?” Kane asked.


“He isn’t that smart,” Gage added.


“He had maps, and a list of targeted areas, targeted U.S. officials, military bases all over the nation and overseas, the presidency. He got close enough somehow to the president, Gage.  It was all there. I couldn’t believe it when I saw it.”


“I thought you meant he got to the president after the virus, Jade… I didn’t know you meant before,” Kane said, I refused to look at him. “This could change everything.”


“He couldn’t have pulled it off by himself,” Gage said as he rubbed his fidgety hands over his face and up through his hair. “Even if he did have Jackson’s help.”


“Well, he was involved. There was a list of names. Thousands of people who received a vaccine in August. In that list there was a smaller list of those who received some kind of antidote in September. It all points to him starting it.”


“Really,” Kane said as he glanced at me, then back to the road. “He has to be working with, or for someone, but who?”


“I don't know how he pulled it off exactly, but he infected people who worked in government or the military specifically, then let nature take its course.”


“That makes sense then, why compared to the general public, our Government and Military was hit so hard,” Gage said.


“Yeah… The important ones that survived, Morrison has hunted down and either killed, placed them in jails, or is looking for them still and he has a file on all of them…”


“He keeps files?” Gage asked.


“Yeah… Morrison had a file on my family.”


His head almost snapped as he turned and looked at me.


“He has a file on my dad,” I said, then looked at my brother to see his response. He just stared at the road, unmoved, but his eyes narrowed. “He thinks he is alive still and is looking for him. I tried to tell him he was dead, he wouldn’t believe me. He threatened to hurt Trey, so I told him he was in Mexico… I didn’t know what else to do, so I made something up. He sent Jackson down there to look for him. That’s when…” I paused for a moment, I looked at Gage, unsure why I felt like talking.


“When what?”


“When… I had no idea he would find something down there. I’m sorry. He caught Hector… And I guess some weapons that you guys needed.” I let my words sink in. “I helped Morrison, I didn’t mean to.”


“Jade, you didn’t know,” Kane said, his voice tired.


“I still feel responsible.”


“You shouldn’t,” Gage paused, his eyes, sympathetic and understanding as he wished he could take my guilt away. He sighed, knowing he couldn’t.


I grasped my arms to keep them from shaking. I hated the anxious pounding in my heart every time I tried to deal with my past. Tears threatened as I tried to swallow the dryness in my throat. Gage’s expression changed quickly from inquisitive to cautious and he placed an arm around me and pulled me close and I let my head rest on his shoulder.


“I’m sorry… It’s just that we need information like this to get the edge we need over him. I know it’s hard to talk about,” Gage paused briefly as I settled closer into his arms, then he continued with the questions as Kane drove in silence.  “Why does Morrison think your dad is alive?”


“He said my dad took something from him years ago and has something of his now… I don’t know what it is but he had information on all of us, not just my dad. Kane, Trey… My mom. He had pictures of me, lots of them, pictures taken before the virus.”


Gage’s reserved glance became fiercely over-protective. “He did?”


Kane suddenly pulled the truck to a halt, dead center in the middle of the road. “He has a file on us? Dad knew him before… before all of this crap!”


“The only one he didn’t have much information on was Emery. There was one picture of her. That was it. He had a lot of pictures of me… Pictures from when I was little. The schools I went to… There was a picture of mom when she was young, younger than me now, Kane.”


He stared at me dumbfounded and I felt a knot form in my throat at the realization of how strange I must sound. Morrison, a man we never met before, how could he know so much, and more importantly, why.


“Morrison has only lived here a few years,” Kane said, the same pained expression evident in his eyes that I felt. The eerie thought of some freak stalking our family and we knew nothing about it sent shivers up my spine. “Your schools… Why does he know so much?”


“I don’t know… Damian caught me in Morrison’s office so I couldn’t finish reading everything. But Damian said Morrison had me picked before all of this started… And Morrison told me that my life was supposed to be with them, and I belonged to Damian… I don’t want to believe it, but… Maybe dad was involved with him somehow.”


“No!” Kane almost shouted, his jaw twitched. “He wasn’t involved with him.”


“I really doubt it, Jade,” Gage added. “If he was, it was probably unknowingly… That’s not the kind of man he was. If anything, he found something out and was trying to help stop him.”


“Morrison thinks you and dad are communicating… I think he thought if he had me, dad would show up.”


“Why didn’t you tell me?”


“I’ve tried to forget about everything… I don’t want to remember-” I started to say. Kane cut me off.


“Are you serious, Jade? We can’t afford for you to just forget about this!”


“What do you want to hear? Morrison almost caught me in his office the night you crashed his meeting. He hit me! Held a gun to my head!” I cried. My voice trailed off. “He wanted the name of the traitor… a name I didn’t know… apparently it was Casey.”


He stepped out of the truck and slammed the door. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Gage. “Where’s he going?”


“It’s a lot to process,” Gage sighed, “and it’s been a rough night.”


“Okay,” I sighed. A buzzing silence filled the cab of the truck as the seconds crawled by.


“He’ll be back,” he paused, his mind churning as he stared out the window, then he turned to me. Dark shadows crossed over his face shielding his eyes. “It makes more sense now, why Morrison wanted you. I could see Damian’s reasoning. I just couldn’t figure out why Morrison did so badly… Did you say Damian caught you in Morrison’s office?”


“Yeah…”


“You’ve mentioned that night before,” he said then asked, more of a statement than a question. “The same night?”


“Yeah…” I hesitated, how could I explain that that night ended up being one of the worst nights of my life? “I went in his office while they were gone. He was furious when he came back and thought I knew something about the raid. He never found out I was in his office… I don’t know what else he would have done if he found out… for some reason, Damian didn’t tell him.”


“It killed me every day to think about what they were doing to you. I worried that anything we did would lead to repercussions against you,” Gage said, as he shifted in the seat towards me, his anger fuming again. “These are adult men! You were only sixteen years old!  Sixteen!  What they did was unthinkable!”


I stared at him with heavy lidded eyes. The memories of that dark awful night took on a haunting life of its own in my mind and refused to be suppressed. I would always remember, as much as I wanted to forgot, I wouldn’t be able to.


“We had over fifty men going in for the raid to gain control of the jail, not to mention hundreds more on the outside. My only concern then was just to get you out. That’s all I cared about. Getting you and Trey out,” Gage said.


“I know,” I said as I forced a faint smile. “And you did…”


Weariness drained every ounce of strength I had left in my body, I wanted to find sleep. I let my eyes drift closed as I placed my head in the crook of his neck. I felt his body shutter as he let out a long sigh as we sat in silence and waited for Kane to return.





***





“Come back to me,” I smiled, as I tried to convince him I wasn’t emotionally affected by the ambush earlier tonight or the depths of our conversation on the ride home. The surge of palpable terror in my chest as the shock wore off settled to a jittery dull ache once we reached the base camp.


“Nothing can keep me away,” he said as he set ice wrapped in a cloth on my shoulder and held it in place. I winced at the ache.


“Safe,” I added. I knew he headed into friendly territory of the city. As soon as we returned Darby ordered him to transport Dylan the prisoner, to the jail and to meet up with Joel to find a better location for camp. The empty warehouse, one of the places on his list to investigate.


“I won’t be gone long... maybe a day at the most, then be ready to share the bedroll with me.” With as exhausted as he was, he still managed to give me a mischievous grin. I wondered when he would sleep, when I asked earlier on the ride back, he said, “later.”


“Okay.” I smiled weakly back as I let my drained body collapse underneath the Levi patchwork blanket that covered the top of the bedroll. Weariness consumed the last of my reserves. My body felt heavy, my arms weighted down to the bed, intensified by the pain in my chest and shoulder as Gage leaned over me. His blue eyes fixated on mine as he studied me intently.


“What?” I whispered.


“Nothing…”


“Don’t say nothing,” I pleaded with my eyes. A whirlwind of emotion and disturbing thoughts crashed against the insides of my skull. The pressure in my chest grew increasingly tight, increasingly painful as I tried to bury them somewhere inside me.


He eased down next to me propped on his elbow. His fingers traced my jawline, down my neck and shoulder. Goose bumps ravaged my skin as he traveled down my arm then clasped his fingers through mine.


“I’ve imagined all of the worst case scenarios in my mind… things you went through,” he paused, his jaw flicked with tension. “It isn’t the same when you say it.”


He pulled me into his arms and sighed as I curled into him. With only inches between us I studied his lips to avoid his eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay with… I don’t know,” he sighed. “Everything that happened… with tonight.”


Completely beside myself, I grew restless inside with dread. Unable to avoid it my eyes flicked up to his with a magnetic pull. His question seemed to mean more than asking about tonight. “I’m okay,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure I convinced him. I wasn’t completely convinced myself as a replay of Jackson holding Kane hostage replayed in my mind. The echo of my thundering rifle, the recoil of the snap of his head back as the bullet hit spang on target. The sway and sudden drop of his body.


“I have to go,” he whispered.


“I know, I’ll be fine.” At that moment, his eyes searched mine with an impact could blow me over and leave me to crumble like dust in the wind. My heart wrenched in my chest. With as afraid of how I felt, I was more afraid of what I didn’t feel. I killed a man, several, and I felt numb.


I swallowed hard and forged a smile. He slowly turned down the wick of the lantern until it became completely dark. He kissed my forehead. I blinked back the sudden rush of tears and breathed a ragged sigh, thankful for the shadows between us. He squeezed my hand, hesitated, then grudgingly he left.


I wiped at the tears on my face. Slowly, they dried and tightened my cheeks. My eyes grew heavy but sleep eluded me as the events of earlier invaded my mind with constant intruding flashbacks. I still heard the blasts in my head and I knew it would be a long night. I wondered how Kane could sleep at a time like this and part of me wished I could have left with Gage.


In search for a distraction and fresh air, I pulled myself out of bed and stepped out of the tent. The camp, eerily quiet and empty like my deepest insides. I sucked in a lungful of air as I pulled my jacket closer around me.


“Well, Miss Kennington.” I whirled around at the familiar voice behind me. “What is the rare occasion that we have the honor to see you without an escort?”


I couldn't place why Dr. Walstrom made my insides squirm. It wasn't like he seeped evil from his pours. He didn't speak much and that alone wasn't grounds to scrutinize. But I did, just the same.


“Dr. Walstrom, you scared me,” I said, as I tried to mask the underlying fear I harbored for the man. My statement wasn't completely incorrect since he surprised me in the dark, but my fear didn’t disappear when I saw him.


“Where are you headed?”


“Nowhere… I needed fresh air.”


“Well, there’s plenty of it out here… walk with me,” he said and gripped my arm with bold assertiveness. “I could use your help.” He cut me off before I could protest. He watched me with cunning sharpness as we walked. I shivered, more in a response to his glare, than a reaction to the cold. 


“Help with what?”


My heart jumped out of my chest as my breaths quickened, visible as white puffs in the frosty night. He led me in the opposite direction of the Med tent. I glanced around us with alarm, only to see very few people out, distant and conveniently, for the doctor, far enough away not to notice to us.


The frozen ground crunched underfoot as we neared a large storage tent. I grasped the stiff canvas flap, holding it above my head as we entered and I grudgingly let it fall behind me. Darkness surrounded us and all that my senses would allow was the strong smell of kerosene and the sounds of the doctor's heavy breaths at my side.


With a flick of a lighter, a small flame emerged. As my eyes adjusted, I saw his badgering stare over his glasses, behind the insignificant glow he held in his hand. Dark shadows cast across his face, escalating my mistrust in him. I wondered what he wanted, but fear paralyzed my questioning.


“Sounds like you’ve had quite an evening,” he said, with an upward shift of his eyebrows as curiosity leaked into his tone. His glare shifted to a lantern that sat next to him on a box and he meticulously removed the chimney and adjusted the wick.


“Yeah,” I hesitated, unsure if I liked the direction of conversation since I wanted to push it from my mind, the whole purpose for stepping outside. “I can’t sleep now.”


“I guess you probably can’t… it’s not easy taking a man’s life,” he said, as the flame quickly took hold as he held the lighter over the kerosene soaked wick, then he replaced the chimney and returned his full attention to me.


“That was quite a feat you accomplished,” he said, with a rather impassive and apathetic tone about him, as he picked up the lantern and directed me to the back of the tent, through rows of boxes.


“I didn’t do anything… it was the men, their success… I was just there,” I said, leeriness surfaced in my mind as goose bumps crawled over my skin as I stepped farther into the large tent and I wondered if he knew I killed Jackson. How could he know? He couldn’t. Casey made it clear he did it, and all of the men there agreed.


“How did you ever manage to bring all those weapons and supplies by yourself? I think I underestimated you,” he said, as he continued, apparently not hearing anything I said. “You must have had help.”


I eyed him with questions swirling in my mind, relieved he wasn’t talking about Jackson, unsure of what he was getting at. “What exactly are you talking about, Dr. Walstrom… you have me confused… I just happened to be there with them, Gage and Casey brought the weapons.”


“The shipment… last week,” he paused, then took a step closer as he gripped my arm and stopped us in front of some boxes. The harsh planes of his face, calloused and impatient as he stared at me, waiting for me to catch up. “We have the refinery because of you… our men were getting slaughtered. I had no idea you were capable of such a heavy burden… by yourself. Thank you for your efforts.”


“Oh,” I said, with an artificial smile, suddenly caught up. He wasn’t talking about tonight and he didn’t sound genuinely thankful. I wondered why he was so indifferent to the success of the men he tried to save over the last week. Their success, relied heavily on those weapons. Twice he implied I had help and seemed to be fishing for information. He wanted Mateo’s name.  “I didn't do much.”


“Oh, but you did,” he said. I wasn't sure if the darkness played tricks on my mind or if I really saw a spiteful smile surface slightly at the corners of his lips. “And just in time, I might add. From what I understand, Gage and Kane were in quite a bit of trouble.” 


I shifted under his uncomfortable stare. My heart sank. I knew the dangers and the risk the men faced, fighting against Morrison, and I didn't need to be reminded how desperate their situation had become that night. I experienced a small part of what they continuously went through for myself last night.


“But I guess it was the least you could do, since you caused quite a problem in the beginning.”


“What do you mean?”


“They weren't ready to start this war and we were close to coming to an agreement with Morrison. You almost cost those boys their lives,” he paused, as if to let his patronizing tone drill those words into my heart. He glared at me with disappointment in his eyes.  “But, I guess you are familiar with that as well. I’m so sorry, Trey didn't make it.”


Anger surged through me, as I blinked back tears that threatened to surface at the rims of my eyes.  I wanted nothing more than to put him in his place. How dare he, talk to me about Trey.  I loved my brother and missed him terribly, I longed to see him every day, knowing I would never be able to again. My chin trembled and I clenched my jaw tight, unwilling to let him see me upset. I swallowed hard as I forced down the knot in my throat.


“What do you want, Dr. Walstrom?”


The callousness in my own voice sent prickly goose bumps over my skin. He eyed me with distaste as he set the lantern down on an unstable box. It teetered slightly under the weight of the lantern. The flame flickered angrily and caused long dark shadows to shift against the walls of the tent.  He handed me a case, of what I wasn't sure. It wasn't that heavy, but the awkward large box, was difficult to hold on to.


“I want your help carrying these cases to the Med tent, what else would I want,” he said sharply.


“Oh, I thought you brought me in here to intimidate me,” I said, with coolness in my voice that matched the iciness of his. I immediately wished I hadn't as he turned on me and shoved me against a stack of boxes. The case I held fell to the canvas-covered ground as he gripped my arm tight. I gasped, startled by his aggressiveness.


“Look, princess!” He paused long enough for his cynicism to take hold as my heart froze. “I'm onto you.”


“What are you talking about?”


“How do we know it wasn't you, who betrayed us and gave Morrison information on the drop-off?” I felt his brisk breaths, hot against my skin as he stood imposingly over me with intent to inflict fear and being quite successful at it. I saw it in his steely glare the seriousness of his accusations, and my eyes widened at his insinuating insult.


“I had nothing to do with it!”


“How do we know, you aren't working for Morrison?” He barked, more in a forceful statement, than an actual question.


“I'm not!” I was blindsided, stunned! I could barely get the words out. I felt as if I'd just been kicked to the ground and it was all I could do to get back up and hold back tears.


“I think you had something to do with it,” he growled, his voice low and threatening. My jaw dropped as I staggered back and tried to distance myself from him. His eyes shifted from mine to my chest as his actions stole my breath. He grabbed my shirt and forced it off my shoulder, revealing the revolting tattoo and the ugly bruise right above it. “Only members of Morrison’s immediate family receives this mark.”


“How did you know about that?”


“We do have people on the inside as well. I've been told that your time on the inside wasn't as difficult as you want others to believe. You might be able to pull the wool over your brothers' eyes, but others are not easily convinced. Does Kane know about this?”


“Get your hands off her!” Kane's voice boomed from the front of the tent. Dr. Walstrom released his grip on me and I adjusted my shirt. With only a few brisk strides, he approached the doctor. He balled his shirt in his tightened fists and shoved him against a large wooden crate. Without taking his eye off my aggressor, asked the question with an equally low, intimidating voice. “What did he say to you?”


“I’m not sure? He isn't making any sense!” My voice wavered as tears filled my eyes. I moved closer to Kane as he released Dr. Walstrom and pushed me behind him.


“What do you think Mike and Prescott will say when they find out your sister had something to do with the setup. That some of our men are dead because of her… she probably had something to do with the ambush tonight!”


“I think they'd say you are full of shit! You'd better watch what you are saying!”


“Maybe he needs to hear it from you, Jade. Tell him, he deserves to know.”


“Know what, Jade?” He asked. I glanced at him as he took a step back into the pale light. Beads of sweat formed on his brow. His eyes steely and harsh as he brushed aside his need for rest. I realized Kane shouldn't even be out of bed. The continued bleeding from his old wounds worried me and Dr. Ashton as well. He instructed Kane to return to base camp and stay in bed, but here he was, defending me once more.


“I don’t know,” I said, pain seared through my chest as the torment of my past refused to stay buried. With as hard as I tried to put it behind me, I couldn't. A muffled sob escaped me as I couldn't hold it in any longer, and turned and ran out of the tent.