Escape from Harrizel (23 page)

“What were you doing as a King before? What
do
Clansmen do?”

“It ranges…. protection, enforcement,
whatever’s needed. Lots of stuff.”

“So you found out about the Snatchings?”

He nods. “I was doing a good job. They
thought it was time for me to take the ‘next step.’ I…” he loses
his words, playing out the scene as his face goes white. “…I was
outnumbered. If I refused, I would’ve been killed. I
had
to,” the guilt in his voice is palpable, his dark eyes lowering to
the ground, shamed.

If what I’ve been feeling for Raj sits like
a heavy burden in my stomach, I can’t image how Reid must be taking
it. Not only unable to prevent it, but to be
part
of a
Snatching? To be that much more responsible?

“So what happened?” I sit down beside
him.

“So I left,” he exhales, leaning forward
with his elbows on his knees again. He runs his fingers through his
hair and pauses, focusing on the golden shadow of the babeebs. “If
it wasn’t for half the Clansmen coming with me, I’d probably be
dead. Grisham would’ve seen to it. But I understood the system well
enough, and we started a new one. A new
Clan
. And we made it
our goal to stop the Snatchings. Food practically dropped in our
laps…” he hesitates, “… and we went from there. Just built up to
what you see now.”

“And you ran it?”

He shrugs, dismissing his role easily.
“Someone had to.”

“They
listen
to you.”

“Because I was the first one to leave. They
were all terrified of losing their source of food.”

“And you weren’t?”

Reid lowers his head, his voice softening.
“Her name was Sadie… she was the same age as Pratt.”

Bile rises in my throat at the thought. What
must that have been like for him? To carry around that kind of
weight every day? I want to reach over and comfort him but freeze.
Is there any comfort for something like that?

“So… the Rogues…” I hope to pull him out of
the deep, guilt-ridden waters he’s fallen into. “Can I ask about
them?”

He looks up with a nod. “Shoot.”

“What’s the deal with Clark?”

“He is
not
a Rogue,” Reid makes sure
I understand this. “He met Sampson before I did… we’re kind of
stuck with him,” he exhales, indicating he’s as unhappy with the
situation as I am.

Good to know.

“Okay. So Tucker’s Rogue Leader and Able and
Jace…” it’s not really a question, but I’m hoping he won’t notice.
Maybe he’ll just start talking and forget I’m here, unloading
everything I want answered in one long monologue.

“…are RCs,” his eyes flicker to me, “Rogue
Commanders. Five in total, each in charge of a different unit. They
all came over with me. Even the Scouts, but it was definitely worse
for them. They needed constant protection and we had half the
number the Kings did—still do,” he thinks about it, “we recruited
heavily in the beginning. So did the Kings. There were frequent
ambushes on each other and for a while…” he rubs the back of his
neck, “it got really bad. It was an all out war until Tetlak
intervened.”

“What happened?”

“He said we would remain two separate Clans.
He’d see to it.”

“Why would he allow that?”

“Said he liked to see us divided. With the
humans at war, less possibility for an uprising.”

“Charming.”

“Tell me about it.
Plus
, he wanted to
see how we would pay for all our information. To this day, he still
doesn’t know.”

“And that’s why you go out gathering every
night?”
“That?” he arches a brow, “We’d have to gather all night to feed
the others. No, the stuff we bring back is for ourselves.”

“Then who stocks the Rogues?”

“Jothkore.”

“Who’s that?”

“One of our inside sources… it’s probably
best to keep his anonymity. At this point, at least.”

“More than one, huh?” I catch his eye, his
look heating me to the core. My sights sink to the floor as I
search the thousands of questions still burning within. “Rox…”

“Yes?”

I glance up. “Why do you get a fancy
title?”

“Sign of respect.”

“As their leader?”

“Sure.”

“Even outside the Rogues?”

“Whenever, I guess.”

“How come
I
don’t have to call you
Rox?”

“You’re not a Rogue, are you?” he narrows
his eyes, igniting the spark again. Slowly, he leans in, brushing
his lips against mine, my entire body engulfed in this single flame
caused by him. He withdraws, leaving me breathless, hungry. “I
prefer you calling me Reid.”

“Okay…”

“Anymore questions?” he asks against my
lips. But before I’m able to respond, he has me back on my bed, his
hands moving down my body. He moves to kiss my neck and there’s a
knock at the door.

“Motherfucker,” he pulls back.

I sit up, wiping my mouth with the back of
my hand. My heart is still slowing—my body still registering that
his isn’t on it anymore. With his sudden departure, I’m left cold,
bare
and somehow, strangely alert to all the useless space
separating us. I gulp, willing the thundering throb in my chest to
slow, my organs to firm up and for everything to carry on as usual,
and not the roller coaster it’s still riding.

Reid makes his way to the crimson arch. He
opens it and Able peeks through.

“Sorry, Boss. Rogue Leader needs you real
quick. But,” he glances to me, his face paling, “if you’re busy, I
can tell him…”

“It’s fine,” Reid looks to me with a
heart-racing smile, “duty calls. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He
winks and the two disappear, leaving me alone with his palpable
absence.

Lecture.

This is the part I detest most. Watching
Beshib on that trunk, reminding us of our greed and cowardice. I
bite my lip to keep from screaming, but that won’t do anything,
except keep from getting me snatched. Forced to hear his words, I
dedicatedly tune them out, scanning the Auditorium instead.

Walker is a ways away and Sampson, Vix and
Clark are not far from him. I keep searching until I find Reid, my
heart sinking. He’s not grouped with any of the Rogues but, to my
dismay, stands coupled with the girl he’d been arguing with.

She has flawless ivory skin and her
perfectly straight cinnamon-honey hair is swept into a smooth,
cascading ponytail. A few strands fall past high cheek-bones and
down to a wide, pouting mouth. She shifts closer to him, trying to
close the distance as her sapphire eyes bat enticingly from time to
time, trying to draw his attention.

I watch them for a minute, watching her
watch him. The sight releases a violent spark in my chest but
Beshib’s voice finally breaks through my muting.

“I’m sure you’re all curious as to why names
have recently been called during Rebuilding. Yes,” he paces the
width of the glowing trunk, “I would think this odd as well. The
reason
,” his voice projects with that typical tinge of
accusing I loathe, “is because the humans have contracted a virus.”
The crowd erupts in a unanimous gasp before Beshib goes on, “We
believe it originated with the berry juice. Now, our scientists are
conducting routine check-ups to confirm how far it’s spread. Let me
assure you—there’s nothing to worry about. We’ve only found a few
individuals who’ve been exposed. They’ve been given the antidote
and we expect to have them all released back to your care shortly.
Until that time,” Beshib goes on, “protect yourselves from
contracting it. You’ll find your pill in the same sleeve as
before.”

Without prompting, everyone around me takes
it like ordered, swallowing the lavender tablet whole. I make
similar gestures, keeping the pill locked between my fingers again.
Feigning a gulp, I drop my hand to my side.

Once everyone has stilled again, Beshib
raises his arms in celebration. “Wonderful. Shall Leisure Time
begin?”

This is it.

The Rogues will be sending their Scouts
after Delan with information on her possession. How soon will they
find they’ve been sent on a wild goose chase? I search for Sampson
or Pratt, unable to stop sneaking glances back at Reid and Ansley
as they move along the West Wall. He’s walking swiftly for the
entrance, trying to put distance between them but she’s at his
heels, refusing to let him leave.

I shift closer from the opposite side of the
Wall’s opening, my eyes, like many others, trained on their scene.
Reid, who keeps going, refuses to offer her the slightest glance
until she stops, stomping her foot on the ground like an impatient
child not getting her way. Finally, she screams his name—not
Rox—atop her lungs, shattering the relative peace of the thriving
Rebirth just beyond.

Things halt.

Reid stops, slowly spinning toward her with
fists at his side. Her hand reaches up to stroke his cheek but he
knocks it away before she’s able. Her brows pinch sullenly but it
looks like it’s finally prompted a response from him.

A white flash of anger courses through me. I
force myself to ignore it and move along the West Wall towards the
entrance ahead. Bumped on my right hip, I glance over.

Pratt keeps to the slow, watchful pace with
me, neither of us speaking. She attempts a smile, but after a
moment, I realize my mouth refuses to repay the gesture. She sees
this and answers automatically.

“Hey don’t worry about her—he’s over
it.”

“Huh?”

“Trust me,” Pratt’s face flattens, “he is.
You coming?” she makes for the Wall’s narrow entrance. I nod,
following Pratt into the opaquely black entrance. On her feet, we
take turn after turn through shadowy checkered passageways where
Callixes and babeebs never appear. It only takes a minute but
finally, after numerous turns, we end up facing a passage teeming
with bodies.

Rogues.

They’re packed shoulder to shoulder and
stand like an army, waiting. Ten babeebs stretch above the thicket,
illuminating the fierce bunch in golden hues. And suddenly, as if
sensing my arrival, they all stop and turn, eyeing me as if I were
some bomb set to detonate. I hold my breath, raking through their
rough, unfriendly stares.

“Come on,” Pratt senses my hesitation,
weaving us a path straight through the tight pack of muscled male
bodies. She doesn’t need to ask. They part for her—and me—allowing
easy passage through the claustrophobic hall. Each one watches,
gaping with keen interest as I pass them.
So she’s Fallon
,
it reflects in their guarded, inquiring eyes.

Am I what they expected?

We find ourselves at the very back—or maybe
the front—Able and Jace already at the starting line.

“Ah—she arrives,” Able jests, feigning a
bow, “Welcome. You can still turn back you know. We’re running late
on departure.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Well,” Able grins, “who’d want to be around
a group of psychotic looking butchers,” he motions to the sea of
Clansmen at my back, “Not to mention they reek. None of them—and I
mean
none
—use the oh-so precious free time to bathe from
their day of heavy lifting. So give yourself five minutes and ask
again. Although…” he shrugs, thinking about it, “best thing to cure
that is a lady’s presence.”

“Then we should go find one.”

“Aw…” he pouts, tsking me. “Someone’s being
modest.”

I shake my head at the violent scene I have
in store for the girl, who I’m pretty sure is Ansley. “Not as much
as you think...”

“Don’t believe it for a second,” Sampson
grins, rising from the opposite wall and enclosing our intimate
group of four, “and really, Fallon,
shame
. You’ve very
deserving of the word.”

“Alright…” I glance around, eager to change
the subject on my questionable etiquette, “his highness showing up
anytime soon?”

Just as I ask, Reid emerges through the sea
of tight bodies with Tucker at his heel, thanking each Clansman as
they move. The slight path they weaved has been swallowed up behind
them, packed with the herd of bodies all staring our way. They’re
all awaiting this meeting Rox has called.

He passes, tossing me a fleeting,
questioning glance, wondering, perhaps if I’d seen anything.

I’m unsure how I want to respond, especially
since I don’t know what happened after we went into the Maze. Did
she try something further?

...Did he let her?

My heart sinks and I count to five. Looking
up, I find Able and lock onto him for security. Smiling at him
instead, his mouth lifts nervously, unsure whether to repay the
expression.

Much to Able’s relief, Reid doesn’t give it
a second thought, already moving on to assist Sampson who’s opening
the door in the wall. Reid gestures everyone inside and Pratt, Able
and I are first into the corridor. Pratt takes the lead while Vix,
Sampson, and Reid spread themselves along the line of moving bodies
to make sure no one gets lost in the labyrinth.

When we’re outside the Castle’s gate and
Reid’s far in the back with Tucker, Able finally makes his way to
my side, casting me a stern scowl.

“So… trying to get me killed?” he cups a
babeeb in front of us, lighting our path as we follow the
silhouette of the Clansmen ahead.

“What?”

“Back there,” he motions behind us. “In the
Maze.”

He can’t be serious. “Scared of a little
smile?”

“From Pratt, no, from you…” he gulps, really
considering it, “…my life may not be worth much but I’d like to
keep it.”

“Don’t be such a baby.”

“It’s not a compliment,” he laughs
nervously. “Trust me, I wish it was. It’s self-preservation.”

“You’re joking.”

“Wish I were.”

Able switches the babeeb into his left hand,
holding it out, “No one wants to be the guy who causes Reid to flip
and leave again. He’s just now…”