Page 23 of Prisoner

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I had no idea where I was going. I just knew I had to get her somewhere private. Somewhere safe where she could recover from the intense punishment I’d doled out as well as the harsh fucking I’d subjected her to. It had torn my heart out to do it, but I knew if I hadn’t, she might well have died at Rigo’s hand.

The crowd was still hooting and shouting and I wasn’t sure how I’d battle my way through with Ree in my arms. I ended up surrounded by a group of shapeless forms wearing long gray cloaks with the hoods pulled up. In the dim light, their faces were in the shadows. To my surprise they parted to let me pass.

One of them drew near me. “We are comrades of Gaius,” he muttered, low enough so that no one would overhear. “Come with us.”

They closed ranks around me, shielding me from the rest of the mob, and led me through a maze of narrow passages that twisted and turned until I was lost deep in the warren of shanties. When they stopped, one of them pulled aside a wooden pallet leaning against a pile of rubble. It hid the doorway to a single room with three rough walls of stacked rock. The fourth was made of stone cut and fit with such precision I guessed it was part of the barrier surrounding the prison. Above my head, barely high enough for me to stand upright, was a ceiling cobbled together from scraps of wood and metal. The faceless figure nearest me stepped aside and motioned for me to enter the room.

I had no other options, so I carried Ree in.

The one who’d spoken followed me. My other attendants silently drifted away into the darkness, leaving two standing guard outside. They covered the doorway again, blocking out what little light came from the blood-red flames in the fissures pockmarking the surface of the asteroid.

My companion moved a stone in one of the walls, allowing a sliver of light to enter, then pulled off his hood. It revealed a bald head with a few wisps of gray hair around the edges and a face lined with a roadmap of wrinkles that told of a life filled with toil and strife.

He pointed to a dingy pile of rags in the corner. “Lay her there.”

Half-conscious, exhausted, and in pain, Ree barely stirred when I deposited her gently on her side. I knelt beside her, stroking her brow, while the old man bustled around us. He handed me a bowl of pasty gruel and a tin mug filled with brown-tinged liquid.

“It’s Zibaru whiskey—our own blend. Tastes like mule piss but it’ll take the edge off after a rough day.”

I managed to get a few spoonfuls of the gruel down Ree’s throat along with half the mug of rotgut liquor before she fell into a restless sleep. The old man refilled the cup and bowl, then settled across from me on the floor with his back against the stone wall.

“Eat up,” he urged. “Around here you never know when your next meal is coming.”

I dug in. Hungry and thirsty as I was, I’d never had a better feast.

He watched in silence till I was about halfway through, then gestured to Ree.

“I remember the first time I heard her father speak,” he said. “The great Gaius DiMello. I was living on Syparia at the time, one of the outer colonies in Vector Four. He came to our outpost after the Federation attacked it. They’d left us in ruins—all because we’d come up short for the Levy.”

He went on, his gravelly voice painting a picture of desolation and despair. “It was the third year of drought and after the harvest we had barely enough to see our families through the fallow season. We sent the Federation half of everything we grew that year, but it wasn’t good enough for them. They wanted to teach the other colonies a lesson. Make an example of Syparia. So they burned our fields, slaughtered most of the village. Left the rest of us to bury our dead and then starve.”

He bowed his head, as if in memory of his fallen countrymen, and went on.

“That’s when Gaius appeared. He and his men showed up in a battered starship held together by rust and spit. They didn’t have much but what they had they shared with us.”

The old man lifted his head and met my eyes. His voice got stronger. “Gaius gave us something far more valuable than barrels of grain. He gave us hope. When his ship left, I was on it. So was my wife. Federation troops had murdered our only son. There was nothing left for us on Syparia. I’m an old man now but back then I still had fire in my belly and power in my punch. I fought by Gaius’s side in many battles. My wife was too weak for combat, so she helped care for the troops. Cooked for us, nursed the fallen.”

Engrossed in the story, I sat my empty cup and bowl aside and leaned forward. “How did you end up here?”

“I was captured in a battle. One of ours, a bastard named Nye, turned on us. Contacted the Federation and gave them the coordinates of our base camp. Gaius was on a rescue mission to another world that had been attacked, otherwise he’d have been captured too.”

I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly. “Nye fought for the rebels?”

“Nye?” The old man gave a rheumy cough and spit on the ground. “That’s what I think of him. Nye fought for Nye. He’d have sold his mother to a whorehouse to gain power and wealth.” He chuckled, a thin dry sound that ended in another hacking cough. “Matter of fact, I think he did. I swear I fucked his ma once, after my Elise passed on. There was one whore on Girra Sola looked a lot like him. Skinny old broad with a nose so sharp it dug into my balls when I upended her to suck my dick.”

He chortled again, delighted with his own wit, then stuck out a hand. “I’m Harald, by the way. And you be...?”

I shook his hand. “Kaal.”

He gave me a once-over. “Yer not a human, though you could pass for one.”

“You’re right. I’m from Rylos.”

He shook his head. “No matter. We’re all brothers under the skin. Even the big blue beasts that tried to take you down. Every last being on Zibaru is just struggling to survive. You can’t blame any of ‘em. When Starn gives an order, they follow it—or they become the quarry in his next game. Except for the shapeshifters,” he added. “Steer clear of them demons. Vicious wild things, that’s what they are. There’s not a spark of sentient being in any of ‘em.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

I sat in silence for a moment, taking in his story. Other than Ree and her bodyguards, he was the first participant in the Insurrection I’d met. I wondered if the others had similar tales to tell.


Tags: Kallista Dane Paranormal