Read Darkness Falling: Soldiers and Slaves Online
Authors: R. R. Willica
Darkness Falling: Soldiers and Slaves
DARKNESS FALLING
SOLDIERS AND SLAVES
by
R. R. Willica
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
© R. R. Willica 2015
Cover art concept design by Allix Styers 2015
This book is dedicated in loving memory to Tom and Francie, my mom and dad.
Dawn was swiftly approaching.
The chill late autumn breeze bit through his uniform. Brosen stared up at the blank sky. The glass and steel walls of Empire Tower blocked most of his pointless view. Darkness was turning to murky gray above him. When he lowered his glowing blue eyes he noticed that his partner Treve was also staring up into the emptiness. Treve glanced in his direction, his amber eyes flashed beneath his dark hair.
They had been standing guard on the eastern gate of Empire Tower every night for nearly two weeks. It was a bad assignment. No one would dare to attempt an attack on the Tower, and the duty was always long and dull. Crime was infrequent in this part of town, partly due to the low population but mostly because of the intimidation of the Tower. East Gate was home only to the Emperor, his family, and their slaves. The nobility had long since fled south to more hospitable regions.
Besides two Enforcers each at the main and side gates, the Tower stood behind two steel walls. The outer wall was over six stories high; the inner wall was at least four. They weren't the real protection and were just for show. Just like the guards. An invisible shield of impenetrable energy hovered just above the Tower's surface, coating it like a membrane.
Brosen shifted the long gun that hung from his shoulder. The thing might not be heavy, but it was uncomfortable. He listened to the quiet around him, frowning. He wanted to lean against the cool outer wall, but knew that he would be severely punished. He lowered his head. An hour after dawn was when the relief would arrive, and he would return to the barracks and sleep.
Maybe.
Running his hand impatiently through his blond hair, he wished something interesting would break the monotony. Brosen was never sure if the lack of disturbances during a watch was good or bad. At least when something happened he felt as if he were doing his job. When it was quiet it was easy to believe that somewhere something was biding its time, drawing in energy until it could explode.
The jingle of bells broke his concentration. A little old man pushing a beat up cart came around the corner. He was a regular vendor, one of many who relied on the Enforcers' patronage, dressed in the same faded brown pants and dingy yellow shirt he wore every day.
“Coffee Man,” Treve said with a thin smile. “Want some?”
“Yeah,” Brosen nodded, reaching for his ID card.
“I’ve got it this time. Just watch post.”
“All right,” Brosen knew he would get the next one.
Treve trotted up the street to the Coffee Man's cart.
High above in the seventy-one story building behind them, the sound of shattering glass filled the silence. The three men looked up in unison, frozen by the impossibility of the noise. Not only were the windows of the Tower bullet proof, nothing could break through the Field Energy which encased the walls. Despite that, something was falling in their direction. At first it was a tiny spot against the clouds, but as it hurtled toward them it became clear that it was a person.
Brosen's eyes locked on the body. Everything about the situation was wrong. The angle of the fall was not straight down as he would expect, and the velocity was too slow. It also didn't appear that the person was in distress. In fact, it looked more as if they were stretched out and gliding. Before his mind could fully grasp what he was seeing, the body landed on the sidewalk with a loud crunch.
Treve was beside him as they rushed forward to inspect the corpse. Drawing near, they saw it was a young woman and she appeared unharmed. There was no blood. She lay on her side as if she merely had fallen asleep, her dark brown hair spread out in a fan behind her. Her clothes were simple, yet clean. A pair of khaki pants, a long white tunic, and a pair of canvas shoes with no jewelry or makeup.
Brosen knelt beside her, noting a large bruise covering the left side of her face. She was a slave, there was no doubt. He had no idea how she managed to break through the Field Energy. What was even more unfathomable was that she was breathing.
“What should we do?” Treve asked.
“Get the EOV, she's alive!” Brosen ordered.
His partner didn't hesitate. He ran up the street and turned the corner to where their vehicle was parked.
Her eyes opened.
Brosen's heart skipped as he looked into a gaze the likes of which he had never imagined. The eternal blackness of her eyes covered the whole cornea, Empire Tower was mirrored within, stretching into eternity. The world slowed. He felt as if he was washed away by a force both familiar and powerful.
“Z....Xander!” The girl suddenly stuttered, her eternal eyes unblinking as she spoke. “He’s going to kill me!”
Xander, the crown prince. The name evoked feelings of dread. She must be his personal property. Brosen watched as her eyes began to change, a slow swirl of gray and white; a gathering storm began to move through darkness.
“Please, you have to help me!” She said frantically.
The white clouds in her eyes swallowed the darkness, leaving behind a pure white glow.
“You can’t let him take me back! Promise me!” Her eyes, as white as snow, peered into Brosen's soul.
“I promise.” he said, his voice flat in his ears.
The EOV pulled up to the curb and the girl's eyes fluttered shut once more. She lay still, breathing shallowly.
Freed from the hypnotic effect of her gaze, Brosen shook his head to break free from the confused cobwebs in his mind. Treve was pulling the stretcher from the trunk. Enforcers often worked as paramedics as well as soldiers and police. Together they carefully rolled the girl's body onto the flat board and strapped her down. Lifting her together, they slid her into the EOV through the back passenger door.
“I’m taking her to East Gate Hospital, you stay here and finish the shift. Report what happened when you finish the night.” Brosen said firmly. “I'll call in when I get there, so you don't have to worry about it.”
“Right. Good luck.”
Brosen climbing into the EOV, closing the door as he looked up at his partner. Treve's black hair fluttered in the breeze and his amber eyes glowed with the internal power of his Enforcer heritage.
“Don't worry about me,” Brosen said. “I'll see you later.”
Pressing the accelerator, he sped down the street turning sharply at the corner traveling along East Avenue until he was away from the Tower. Only then did he change directions toward South Gate instead. If he took the girl to the hospital, he would be commended as a hero for rescuing a precious slave. She would be taken back to her masters once she recovered.
If she was lucky her life would be forever caught in servitude. More likely, she would be killed for her attempt at escape. Either way, Brosen had no intention of giving her back.
He would be labeled a traitor for helping a slave escape. Not only valuable in terms of monetary cost, house slaves also knew the secrets and patterns of the families they served. Allowing them freedom was far too great a risk. He didn't know or care about what knowledge the girl might have on the Emperor's son. All that mattered was that she was in danger, brutalized, and he had promised her help.
This time he was going to follow his own heart instead of orders.
They passed beneath the South Gate a short time later. In the dim half-light, Brosen could see the shadowy figures of people just waking from their sleep. Of the four districts of the city, South Gate was the most dilapidated. The crumbling skeletons of apartments and stores sat among heaps of garbage. Burned out and striped vehicle shells dotted the streets; many of them turned into shacks by the homeless masses. Hopeless citizens watched the EOV pass them by with blank expressions.
Brosen tried not to look at them, although his heart was tearing in his chest. The great disparity between the rich and the poor was far beyond his control. He was but a cog in the great machine that chewed up the populace and spit it back into the street. The only thing he could do was protect them when he could. The truth was, he was nothing more than property himself.
Living in the shadow of Empire Tower was dark and cold.
There was one light of hope within the walls of Rau'Tesche-Awn. The Hospital of Mercy was located on the lower floors of a condemned building. Set back from the road on a large parking lot littered with shanties and shambling people, the front of the building was partially hidden by the only living trees in the city; they were scraggly and twisted, but also beautiful.
Brosen drove the EOV around to the back of the building to shield it from view of the main road. He turned the engine off, sitting very still he listened to his heart pounding in his chest. It was not too late, he could still take her to East Gate Hospital and go back to everything he knew. The image of the bruise on the young woman's face, her endless eyes staring straight into him, reminded him of what must be done.
There was no turning back.
Determined to continue on his chosen path, he exited the vehicle and walked toward the metal door which hung half off its hinges. Pulling it open he discovered a little girl sitting on the floor playing with a ratted doll. She jumped as the door banged against the wall. Her frightened face quickly melted into a beaming smile.
“Brosen!” she shouted, leaping into his arms.
“Hi, Eymi.” He laughed, spinning her around once. “I need to see Wini right away.”
“She's in the clinic,” the girl said, scooping up her doll. “I can't go back, there's more sick people today.”
“Again?” Brosen asked, wondering if it was another resurgence of the plague.
There was a medicine, and a vaccine, but they weren't easy to come by. He didn't have time to think about it. Instead, he walked through the small vacant room into a bigger one beyond.
The walls were lined with mattresses. The sick lay either sleeping or in the care of the few who had been trained to heal. Kneeling beside one of these beds was a slender old woman with a long silver braid. She was rubbing a yellow oil into a young woman's ashen skin. Brosen waiting until she was done before clearing his throat. She looked up at him, her eyes were a clear silver. They glowed from within, similar to an Enforcer, but there was something different about her that he didn't understand.
“Brosen,” she said cheerfully. “What a happy surprise. Have they put you back on patrol?”
“No, not yet. I need your help. I've got an injured person in the EOV and I can't move her alone.” He said.
She did not hesitate.
Motioning to two young men across the room she said, “Elner, go and help Brosen. Mikal, set up a bed for an injury.”
The first young man followed Brosen back out. Together they carried the stretcher into the hospital and laid it on the prepared mattress. Winifred sucked in her breath as she examined the young woman.
“Give me some information,” Wini said as she began to examine the bruise on the girl's cheek.
“I really don't know that much. Treve and I were on watch and suddenly she jumped or fell from somewhere high up in Empire Tower. She landed right in front of me, but she was breathing.”
Winifred's eyes jumped up and locked with his. “She fell from the Tower?” Disbelief was etched across her face.
Brosen nodded. “She was conscious for a minute and said Xander was trying to kill her.”
“My goodness.” Wini sat back on her heels.
After a moment she stretched her arms out across the body, palms down, and closed her eyes.
Brosen could feel the energy in the room change. For a moment it felt as if the light was growing dim, but it passed quickly. All of Wini's helpers stopped what they were doing and the patients fell quiet. No one spoke much of the old woman's gift. Some believed it was little more than parlor tricks, but anyone who had witnessed her power would not have been so brash. Dropping her hands into her lap she looked up at the Enforcer with wide eyes.
“She's not injured, and in fact is only sleeping.” The words were blunt and emotionless.
“That can't be possible.” Brosen said. “I mean, I expected her to be nothing more than a stain on the sidewalk, that's true, and she didn't appear to have a scratch. But, there must be something internal.”
“No, not a thing. Do you doubt me?” Winifred raised an eyebrow.
“Of course not,” Brosen knew better than to question the healer, he had seen her perform too many inexplicable things. “I just don't understand.”
Wini pulled up the sleeve on the young woman's right arm. Marked in dark brown ink on the interior of her wrist was a tattoo of three intersecting lines. It was the symbol of the slaves. Brosen had a similar tattoo but his was inked in dark blue, labeling him an Enforcer. The girl's eyes flashed opened and she grabbed Winifred's wrist.
“It’s all right,” Wini said calmly.
“Where am I?” the young woman demanded, her eyes darting around the unfamiliar place.
“It's all right,” Wini repeated soothingly, “You are perfectly safe. I was merely checking for your mark, child. This is a hospital, in South Gate. Nothing bad will happen to you here.”
Brosen looked into the girl’s eyes. He was disappointed to find them a normal shade of light green. Winifred and the girl stared at each other for a long moment. Suddenly the girl closed her eyes once more and fell back into her strange slumber.