Renegades: Badlands Next Generation Read online

  “Kneel!” Hendrix’s brash voice carried across the yard. At his command, four women, two of them being Emily and Dasia, and two men knelt on the ground, shoulder to shoulder and heads bowed just as they’d been taught to do in our lessons.

  Then, as if he’d received a silent cue, from behind the angel came a disciple.

  I knew within his hands would be a bible written in the Cardinal’s self-fulfilling dialect. When he began to speak, his voice was loud enough for me to hear every absurd accusation bestowed upon each of those chosen for cleansing.

  He said they were tainted with ill fortune. Proclaimed they were forsaken by God.

  These same words were used to describe me behind closed doors. It was pure bullshit.

  All. Of. It.

  None of the people kneeling respectfully at his feet had done anything that would warrant them being accused of these unjust infractions. Dasia’s only fault wasn’t a fault at all. She had turned twenty-one the day after her selection.

  That made her a full year older than most of the others still at the asylum. Emily’s was simply not being desirable enough in the four-month period in which men had come to look the available girls over.

  As for few the boys, they would have failed in their training to level up, making them obsolete and useless for whatever the Cardinal had planned.

  I often searched for my older brother amongst them. It had been years since I last saw him, and there was little way of knowing if he were still alive or if he even looked the same, but that didn’t stop me from hoping.

  The Exarch finished reading his scripture and then made the sign of a cross before giving the all-too-familiar signal to commence with the cleansing. Hendrix stepped forward, withdrawing a handgun from his waistband.

  One of the guerrillas under his command did the same while another readied a canister of flammable liquid. As horrific as this was, I always found small comfort in the fact that these deaths were quick and merciful. Robbed of our lives or not, we were all going to die somehow.

  Six people.

  Six gunshots.

  A single bullet was fired into the back of every bowed skull. The gun didn’t jam once. No one fought or pleaded for their lives. And really, what was the point? In the world we existed in, it had to be acknowledged that dead was often better. After all, this was our only way to true freedom.

  As body after body silently hit the ground, I gripped the iron bars so tightly the pigmentation in my knuckles turned snow white. I paid no mind to the new trail of blood traveling slowly from my nose to my clamped lips, leaving it to drip down my chin.

  “Look away, Star,” Claire pleaded from her pen, her voice cracking with emotion.

  I didn’t listen. I couldn’t.

  Just before Hendrix reached Dasia, she turned her head and peered at me from over her shoulder.

  From so far away it could have been a coincidence, but I felt her stare, and I knew she could feel mine. She knew I was watching, and that’s all that mattered right then, even as my hands shook and my eyes burned.

  She needed to die knowing that, no matter the space between us, she wasn’t alone. Her head was still turned when my view was cut off by Hendrix’s form. The final shot rang out and then he took a casual step back. My heartbeat slowed as I watched her body flop to the ground.

  I felt the warmth of tears on my cheeks as her lifeless form was rolled into the pit dug specifically for this purpose, landing amongst the others. The canister was emptied, the disciple lit a match, and then it fell from his fingers and set everyone aflame.

  Their bodies would burn, and the embers would remain for just a few minutes longer, turning the angel a sooty color as she wept for them.

  It was a scene I had seen many times before. The memory was always imprinted on my brain, haunting me long after there was nothing left but ash and the stench of burnt flesh lingering in a smoke-filled sky.

  This time was worse than the others because it was one of us, the core four. We had been here since we were taken from our parents. We’d always had one another. As each of us was branded with a permanent code of ownership, I was confident we always would.

  From behind me, Marcy and Claire sobbed openly. My tears remained silent.

  After shedding so many over the years, they had become more of an annoyance, an involuntary reaction I couldn’t always help. But that didn’t mean I was unempathetic, I’d simply gotten used to this. Winter had invaded my chest long ago and never left, slowly turning everything bitter and cold.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the girls, wishing I could pull each into my arms and offer them a semblance of comfort. I had to turn away before their grief could spread to me.

  Being somewhat numb to the tragedies we suffered allowed me to keep a clearer head, and at a crossroad between persevering and surrender, it was all-too-tempting to let sorrow and anguish consume me. But giving in would break the promise I made to my father before he was taken away, and I fully intended on keeping it.

  The sound of whistling pulled my attention to the pathway that ran adjacent to my cage. Hendrix strolled by, his hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed.

  “Sweet dreams,” he called out, a sickening smile following the taunt.

  I tried not to let the action bother me, going for indifference. I got hatred instead, fueling the anger that continued to simmer in my gut.

  My rage was a toxin that conjured darkness, diminishing the small traces of light I’d once possessed. Sometimes these negative emotions were all I had, though. Without the hatred I'd have died long ago. When the nights were endless and empty, it was my only companion. It was the root of endless thoughts about escape and revenge.

  I had spent many days locked in this cage, but I knew that wouldn’t always be the case.

  I just had to wait a little longer and keep my wits about me.

  I’d do whatever it took to survive this world, even if it meant burning the whole damned thing down.

  Even if it meant making a deal with the devil himself.

  CHAPTER TWO

  There was a period of time that I believed my life—my body—belonged to the A.R.C. I forgot everything my father told me and let myself become compliant. I turned into the very thing he’d begged me not to be before we were forced to part ways.

  I thought that by doing what was asked of me I would be spared hardship. But that was then, when I didn’t understand that there would always be someone seeking to take advantage if given the chance.

  It was a hard lesson to learn.

  Soft and pliable was a mistake I knew to never make again. Patient and cunning served me better.

  It’s what led me to make a fateful decision the same day I found myself being herded like a broodmare down a dirt trail. One Exarch preached the sacred word of his bullshit Cardinal, saying the same lines repeatedly.

  Three more followed behind him along with various other Exarchs. They each held a tiny wooden cross that had never aligned with their ideologies. Guerrillas were there as well, each in possession of a gun on their waistbands.

  The poppy fields were in full bloom, serving as a reminder that for all the beauty in the world, it was inherently cruel. Side by side twelve of us went; dressed in thin gowns of white with matching flowers woven into our hair.

  It was meant to represent purity for our future husbands—whoever they may have been. I’d been engaged since I was thirteen and had never once laid eyes on the man I was meant to marry. All I knew of him was that he was a Stag.

  The whole thing came off like some terrible comedy skit. Marrying someone who had the complete opposite mindset to what the Cardinal stood for… It was a joke, a twisted method for control. I didn’t know what he got out of the deal.

  That all mattered little now, though. I wouldn’t be meeting whoever this man was. I glanced discreetly at Marcy, catching her eye. She gave a slight shake of her head and then quickly set her sights back forward.

  What was that?

  Had she gott
en cold feet?

  She couldn’t possibly mean to get on the truck waiting somewhere up ahead. I knew our plan was risky. It was shortly devised, considering we began coming up with it in the early morning hours after Dasia’s death, but the alternative was being chauffeured off to a fate worse than that.

  We escaped physical punishment for this reason alone. Instead of being disciplined, we’d been bathed, plucked, and shackled together like prisoners.

  Focusing on the dirt path, I recounted where I knew each guerilla to be. Six were following along with strict orders from the prophet to shoot without hesitation if trouble should arise. The order would exclude only the brides, meaning us. At least, we assumed as much. In front of me, Claire turned her head and pretended to look at the sky.

  It was our private Morse code, letting me know she was still on board with the plan. I gave another subtle tug on the thin chain that bound Marcy and me together, successfully recapturing her attention. I pointed two fingers to the right, signaling that the break in the trail was coming up.

  When her hands began to shake, I wanted to reach out and reassure her, but our immunity only extended to being shot. After doing a trial run the day before, we’d been forbidden to touch one another.

  I wished I could tell her that I understood her fears. I had them too. If we were caught… Well, I couldn’t go there, and I couldn’t allow myself to get in any of the vehicles idling a few yards ahead. Marcy released a soft sigh and her head slightly moved again, agreeing to what we’d discussed.

  In the process of planning we’d had to include who Claire was paired with and hope she kept her mouth shut. It was a huge gamble, putting trust in a stranger, but thus far everything seemed to be fine. The dark-haired girl—Hayley, I think her name was—seemed just as apprehensive and eager to escape as we were.

  I began counting down from fifteen, making sure I kept my breathing even as my heartbeat skipped forward. I got to number four and my palms began to sweat. At one, I summoned all the strength I could muster and used my unrestricted arm to shove the A.R.C member walking alongside me.

  His face was a mask of surprise as he stumbled into the poppies, trying and failing to keep his balance. With him out of the way, we were able to easily veer off the trail.

  We ran towards a tree line that seemed further away than it really was. Shouts and threats came from behind us, but no one dared look back. The chain shackling my wrist to Marcy’s jingled as we worked to keep the other moving.

  “We aren’t going to make it,” she gasped, a sob catching in her throat.

  “We will!” I poured on speed, forcing her to do the same, ignoring the stitch in my side.

  Just ahead of us, Claire cleared the tree line with her companion. Right as my toes touched the end of the uneven path, two shots rang out. I was propelled forward, tripping over my own two feet. I went down fast and hard, Marcy’s scream assaulting my eardrum.

  A stinging sensation spread across my skin as twigs and roughened terrain nipped at exposed flesh.

  Marcy rolled with me, a painful yelp blasting from her mouth. The shackle strained from the tension but refused to break. Behind us, the shouting grew louder, sounding angrier and panicked.

  “We have to keep going!”

  Marcy hauled me back to my feet, giving me no choice but to run or risk being dragged. Claire had vanished somewhere in the thick foliage ahead, racing for her own freedom. I didn’t blame her. Stopping could have potentially gotten her caught. We’d agreed not to slow for any reason.

  The surrounding woodland grew quieter the deeper we went, zigzagging to throw anyone off who may have been behind us.

  Getting away was our main goal, figuring out what to do after was supposed to come next, meaning we had no idea where we were going.

  Both of our chests heaving and covered in sweat, it wasn’t until Marcy’s movements grew sluggish that I realized something was wrong. I slowed, coming to a complete stop.

  With a pained, breathy groan, she placed her back against a tree and sank down, nearly taking me with her. The red stain on the far side of her gown drew my immediate attention.

  “Marcy!” Kneeling in front of her, I examined the stain, touching the thin material with as much caution as I could manage.

  The gunshot…her scream…

  I watched helplessly as the white satin was further saturated before my eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “You had to get away,” she rasped, giving me a small smile.

  “We had to get away.” I searched our surroundings for anything that could help her. There was nothing around but trees, dirt, and greenery. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Nimble fingers reached out and took hold of my hand. “Sit with me, Star. That’s all you can do.”

  “I can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

  “You can, and you will. You’re going to stay with me until I fall asleep, and then you’re going to keep going until you get as far away from here as possible.”

  “Fall asleep? That’s—”

  “Star?”

  “I’m not leaving you,” I ground out. We both knew what she meant.

  “Listen to me!” she snapped, coughing immediately after. “You have to go before they find us.”

  I heard all she was saying, but I physically couldn’t leave her behind. Not only did I refuse to, but we were shackled together.

  “Star,” she repeated.

  I looked at her, my denial fleeing as rapidly as the hole growing within my heart. I knew there was no possible way to mend the injury. I was almost positive the bullet hadn’t gone all the way through. I could dig inside her to get it out, but then what?

  We had no one to go to for help. Her breathing was getting shallower with each passing minute. I was losing her right before my eyes, just like I lost everyone else.

  I shoved my pain to the side and fully focused on the amazing girl in front of me.

  I pulled her into my arms as best I could, trading her spots so that I was the one leaning against the tree trunk. Roughened ridges of bark pressed into the flesh on my back that was still sensitive and healing, but I didn’t care right then.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

  She squeezed my hand and swallowed. “Not your fault. Don’t ever blame yourself for this. You’ve always… kept me safe.” An abnormal sound came from within her throat, and her entire body seemed to twitch.

  Clamping my lips together to ward off a sob, I silently apologized again and again.

  I pulled her closer despite the cuff around my wrist trying to prevent any further movement. It was the least I could do, the only thing I could do for her as she faded away.

  Guilt began to lash at my chest. We all knew this was risky, but I wasn’t prepared to face those risks down. I wasn’t ready to lose another friend.

  Just when I thought to speak again so she could hear something more than silence as she went, I looked down and saw she was already gone. Her usual rosy complexion was now drastically pale, brown eyes vacant and staring at a clouding skyline.

  With her chest no longer rising and falling, all the warmth began to seep from her body with a callous speed, leaving dead weight in my arms. I covered her face with my hand and gently closed her lids.

  Expelling a shaky breath, I looked to the sky and simply stared for a few minutes. It would begin to rain soon. That would grant me a brief recess from the heat, but afterward the mugginess would make travel much worse.

  Despite my reluctance to do so, I needed to go. There was no telling how close the A.R.C were or if they’d employ a full-on search militia. I had to get out ahead of them and this storm.

  Shifting Marcy’s weight from my lap, I kept my gaze trained on the metal cuffs shackling our wrists together. I couldn’t look at her face anymore. It was bad enough that this would be my last memory of us together. The pain inside me had a familiar numbness beginning to pound against my brain.

  Careful
ly, I reached out and gave a small tug on the center chain.

  How was I supposed to get this off? I tinkered with it for a few more minutes, realizing that there was no way I could break it. Sliding it over our hands wasn’t an option either.

  There was only one way to separate us, and with time dwindling I had no choice but to act fast. If caught, I would never have a chance to escape again, and Marcy’s death would have been for nothing.

  I grabbed hold of her lower wrist and began to twist, forcing her thin limb to turn at an unnatural angle. My stomach rebelled at what I was doing. Salted tears came hot and quick. But what other choice did I have? I would’ve traded places with her in an instant if I’d been given the chance, but I couldn’t.

  All I could do right then was detach us.

  Dragging her body wasn’t a viable option. It would take more strength than I could exert and majorly slow me down. If this didn’t work, the last resort would be chewing through her flesh. The mere idea of that had me forcing back a gag. I’d do it if I had to, though. I couldn’t go back. I wouldn’t.

  Gripping Marcy’s wrist a little tighter, I applied more pressure and jerked. Her body came forward in the process, but that didn’t stop me from twisting. Her skin became taut and pinched. My stomach churned violently as something popped, sounding like the breaking of a stick.

  Beneath her flesh, the bone visibly shifted, allowing me to slip the cuff over her now grotesque wrist. The instant it was off, I recoiled as if I’d been burned and the limb fell to Marcy’s side, looking as if it no longer belonged.

  I stood up and began moving backward. Before turning away, I hesitated, hating that I had to leave Marcy like this, disgusted for having broken a part of her.

  I’d heard there was beauty in death, but as I searched for it, I couldn’t find any. Nothing was beautiful about this.

  She’d be left here to rot. Her flesh would become one with the soil, something for worms and maggots to feast on until only bone remained. She deserved so much better. They all did.

  Facing the other direction, I took off as quickly and quietly as possible, careful where I placed my feet. The speed in which I’d lost everyone I cared for was staggering, but there wasn’t any time to grieve. The lump in my throat that was making it hard to swallow had to be ignored.