Escape from Harrizel (43 page)

“Is he going to kill Mantis and Grisham?” I
ask.

Sampson tosses his head back and forth,
seeing both sides of the coin while Able remains silent, imagining
the gruesome image.

“So…” I clear my throat after a lengthy
silence. “That’s a ‘most likely’?”

“I would if I were him,” Able mumbles,
“after all the shit they’ve pulled. Although I don’t have the
stomach for what he’d do... if he does it.”

“Reid will be just in his actions,” Sampson
adds his opinion but leaves it at that.

He did mention burying them. They’ve both
wanted him dead for a long time so why shouldn’t he end it while he
can? Especially when there are more important things to be
concerned with.

Like tomorrow.

It takes some effort to drag the fallen
Kings from the tunnels and up the rooted steps, especially the few
still squirming and struggling. But we finally get everyone out and
keep moving alongside Ellae and eventually, past it and into the
field of massive Banyan trees. We move in a steady stream,
exploring the tangled roots through a layer of powdered mist.

Finally reaching the threshold of low
mumblings, the Rogues hurry by with quicker strides, eager to make
their deposit. Once they do they jet back, just outside the line of
deformity. Sampson slows, lighting our way past Hinson and into the
field of trees, bodies growing from their trunks like parasites.
They’re talking to themselves or snapping at anyone who comes too
close. Between the trees and across the ground of skin, lies a
blanket of captured Kings, all bound and gagged.

“Yep,” Able nods, watching me survey the
scene, “that’s all of them. Except Mantis and Grisham, who should
be arriving here shortly.”

The Kings, all forty-four of them, lay
sprawled throughout the trees, some up against the trunks where
knees and calves slap them with involuntary spasms. But the
Clansmen are out cold, unconscious.

“They’re just here all day?” I ask motioning
to the Kings.

“And night.”

“Somebody watching them? Feeding them?”

“Making sure they’re still alive?” he
shrugs, laughing. “…Something like that.”

A loud dragging brushes through the trees
and we all turn to look. Reid emerges through the mist first,
followed by Tucker and Chief, both hauling two bound bodies on the
ground behind them.

Mantis, I recognize instantly, with that red
flame crawling up his neck and those dark, seedy little eyes. He’s
coiled into himself, daring anyone to touch him so he can lash out
at least once, getting one good strike in. And next to him, the
leader of the Kings.

Grisham.

He has a reddish undertone with copper
whiskers above and below his mouth, aging him. But his eyes, two
blue spheres, still loom with a youthful eagerness of life. Hunger.
Determination. They’re calmer than his partner’s though, like he
understands this protocol and is willing to submit since its
standard procedure.

Reid looks to me.

“Stand them up,” he orders, his eyes
unwavering.

Tucker and Chief both yank their hostages
from the ground. Unlike the others, Mantis and Grisham’s ties
aren’t connected behind their backs. They’re dragged along by their
ankle restraints and quickly propped to their feet, wrists cuffed
at their front.

Reid has them face their Clan.

Mantis and Grisham take in the grisly scene
but if it has any affect on them, they don’t show it. Both Kings
remains stoic, as if Reid were wasting their time, as if they had
other things they could be doing.

“Regrettably for you,” he looks at his two
captures, both unable to speak due to the bundle of cloth jammed in
their mouths, “you’ve lost.”

Mantis glares through sharpened slits as
Reid passes, but then shifts focus to me, his fury rising. As if
it’s my fault he’s here. As if he didn’t start this himself that
day when he struck me. His stare sends a shiver down my spine until
his head is knocked to the side with a violent blow.

“Eyes
off
,” Reid growls.

Grisham mumbles beneath his gag. Reid nods
to Tucker who removes the cloth as a disturbing smile crosses
Grisham’s face. It’s like he’s comfortable with all this, like he’s
enjoying it.

“You were always my favorite. Such fire.
Leadership. I should’ve known. I should’ve made
you
my right
hand.”

Mantis’s head snaps to Grisham, his eyes
wide with wrath. It looks like he’s ready to fly at him but Jace
keeps him held down, locked to his post.

“Don’t insult me,” Reid laughs. “You have
the perfect hand of the devil here. And I’m not looking for a new
post.”

”Well Rogue Rox suits you.”

“You gave me no choice.”

“You always have a choice,” his smile wanes.
“You chose to leave.”

“You took my choice when you asked me to
snatch Sadie. When you asked me to snatch innocent people,” he
gestures to the lot behind them, to the trees with mutated people.
“Like your handiwork?”

Grisham shrugs. “It keeps me fed. And it’s
not
my
handiwork. That belongs to Beshib.”

“So you knew what they were doing all
along?”

Again, Grisham shrugs. “As I said, it keeps
me fed. And isn’t that what survival is about?”

“Don’t seem to be nailing it right now.”

“Well…” he grins, glancing down at his
restraints. “Let’s even it out, shall we? Give your Rogues here a
real
show.”

“You must think I’m stupid.”

“Not stupid. Brave.
Honorable
.”

Reid bites his lips, considering, “…Still
coming back to stupid.”

“Come on Rox, let’s give them a show,” his
eyes flare. “They’re
nothing
compared to what you or I am
capable of.”

Reid’s brow furrows. “You never fought on
Harrizel.”

“That’s not true. I did… before you arrived.
Before they rigged the gate,
I
was the first to leave and
find food. And I was
good
at it,” he grins pompously. “Every
night I’d bring back Gupples. Enough for myself
plus
some.
Bribed others to do what I wanted. Do things
for
me. Got me
laid,” he laughs, “that was the best part. Then Tetlak showed up
and it all went to shit. Nearly killed me but I fought that
fucker,” Grisham shakes his head, still grinning at the memory.

“He should’ve killed you then.”

“He wanted to. Almost did,” Grisham laughs,
“…said he hated humans, everything to do with them, made him sick.
But I made him a deal. He said he’d let me live—even supply me with
food—if I collected the humans he wanted. I said tell me when and
where you want them. Easy as that.”

“And then you started recruiting.”

“I needed help. Business was booming.
Thought I put together a good team…” he glances to his fallen Clan,
then back up to Reid. “So what do you say? How’s a real duel sound?
One that matches your… special set of skills.”

Reid pauses to consider his offer, cupping
his chin in thought. A few seconds go by before he shakes his head.
“Nope, I don’t think so.” Reid slams his fist into Grisham’s face,
knocking him to the ground, motionless. “Move him over with the
others.”

Tucker and Chief follow Reid’s order without
question. Reid moves to Mantis who is all but squirming out of Jace
and Harrison’s hold. He’s ready. Ready to fight, to kill, to
unleash the urge coursing through him. Reid nods to Jace to remove
his gag and when he does, Mantis’s curses start spilling out of
him.

“Now you, on the other hand,” Reid
interjects, pacing. “I’m not so ready to throw onto the pile.”

“Going to kill me like a coward?”

“No,” Reid shakes his head, business-like,
“you’re going to work for your death. I’m not handing it over that
easy.”

I stop. Did I hear correctly? I look to Reid
who’s backing up, nodding to his Rogues. He motions behind me, out
of the lot of bodies.

“We’ll do it there. Looper, stay with the
Kings and Grisham. We won’t be far,” Reid looks back to Mantis.
“How about that rematch you always wanted?”

“What’s the point? You’ll kill me in
seconds,” he searches him. “Where’s that rod you always carry? Your
safety blanket?”

“No weapons. I plan on killing you with my
hands.”

Again, my eyes fly to Reid.

“Jace,” he motions for him to follow.

Jace knocks Mantis to the ground and then
grabs the cord bound at his ankles to drag him. Mantis squirms,
struggling to free himself as the rest of the Rogues follow. Able
hooks his arm in mine, escorting me alongside until the Clan wraps
itself into a giant circle around Reid, a few paces from the
entrance to the mutated lot.

Able and I find a Banyan tree wide enough to
hold us, along with Sampson and Pratt who claim our sides.
Everything’s quiet. No one dares speak as Jace drags Mantis into
the gaping circle and leaves him there.

Reid paces for a second before yanking off
his scrub shirt and tossing it to the ground. Cracking his
knuckles, he moves like a feral beast, sizing up his prey with a
calm but murderous hunger I’ve never seen.

Reid nods at Tucker.

Tucker steps into the circle and with a
little, hidden blade, frees the restraints on Mantis’s wrists and
ankles. Mantis flies for him but Tucker jumps back into the Rogues’
shielding circle.

“Scared?” he snivels.

“You’re Rox’s kill,” Tucker shakes his head
with all sincerity, as though the outcome of the fight’s already
been decided. “Not mine.”

Mantis’s focus darts around the heavy
circle. All twenty-seven Rogues, plus a few selected Scouts, watch
with a hungry vengeance that could almost rival Reid’s. Mantis
turns to face him and raises his arms enticingly.

“Ready Rox?” he sneers. “Or should I call
you Reid?”

Reid waits, closing his eyes, his feet
apart. Mantis charges him and it all happens so fast.

Just as he rushes head on for Reid, as
though to bulldoze him to the ground, Reid pushes off, spiraling
through the air and lands on the opposite side of him. Once he
makes contact with the ground again, he holds himself on one foot,
using the other to fly across Mantis’s jaw.

Mantis staggers back for a moment. He throws
his leg up to kick Reid in the stomach but Reid anticipates the
hit, dropping his hands on Mantis’s foot, knocking his strike off
balance. Mantis stumbles and Reid uses the moment to push him back
down before dropping into a crouch-like position and swinging his
leg out. As Mantis stumbles backwards again, he trips on Reid’s
kick and flies to the ground, landing with a thunderous crash. But
he scrambles back up, fists at his sides, his eyes wrathful.

Mantis flies at Reid in a dead run. He
swings both fists, aiming to clobber Reid in the face but Rox ducks
both hits, matching the engagement with his own blows to Mantis’s
right side, finishing with a violent uppercut to his chin. Mantis
falls back again, crashing to the ground, his chest heaving.

Has he not seen Reid fight? He must have.
Back during the first time they met in combat. Maybe he just forgot
or thought he knew…

Maybe Reid was holding back the first time.
But now he’s out for blood.

Reid circles Mantis, watching him…
waiting.

Mantis takes a moment for himself before
gathering to his feet again. He’s slow to rise and when he does,
his dark eyes narrow into slits. He’s a bull, ready to bulldoze
again but smarter this time. The two of them circle each other for
a minute as the Rogues start to add their own chorus of jeers and
cheers. Suddenly the dark forest is alive with the fiery spirit of
competition.

“All you can do is dance around?” Mantis
spits a loogie of blood.

Reid cracks his neck, then his knuckles.

“Come on,” Mantis laughs. “What’cha waiting
for there, Reid? Just going to use fancy moves on me all day?
That’s not how real men fight.
Real
men,” and he spits
again, “fight in close range. Bet you don’t know—”

Reid is in his face, knocking it back with
blow after blow after blow. He must hit him for four or five times
before Mantis counters with a jab to Reid’s side. He doesn’t even
register it. Accepting the blow, Reid spins around, locking his
arms around Mantis’s shoulders and, picking him up, throws him over
and slams him into the ground.

Mantis lies still for a long minute.

Eventually he gets up, his face splattered
with red. It drips from the corner of his eye, both nostrils and
the gaping split in his lip. Again, he takes his time in recovering
to a full stand but just as he gets to it, Reid is at him,
delivering several sharp hits to his center frame with dagger-like
fingers. He finalizes it with a roundhouse kick to Mantis’s head,
knocking the King back to the ground.

The Rogues erupt in cheering roars as Reid
circles Mantis’s body.

“It’s almost not fair,” Able whispers in my
ear.

“Is he really going to kill him?”

“He said so.”

After a minute of pacing Mantis’s nearly
limp body, Reid yanks him to his feet. Mantis’s eyes are barely
open, his face a swollen mash of red. Barely conscious, Reid drags
him by the neck of his scrub from the center of the circle toward
me. My heart beats erratically as the two draw closer. Feet away,
Reid throws Mantis to his knees. Grabbing his hair, he holds the
King’s head high, so he can look at me.

“I’ll let you live,” Reid growls. “If you
apologize to her.”

With only his left eye half-open, Mantis
takes in my sight. By the look on his face, he might already be
brain damaged but he still manages to spit a bloody mouthful at me.
It lands in a small puddle at my feet.

“Wrong,” Reid places his hands around
Mantis’s head. In one swift movement, he twists it to the side and
Mantis’s body falls to the ground, limp. Heaving out exhausted
breaths, Reid looks to me and I freeze.