Chapter 37 #3
We sit like that for what feels like hours. It’s quiet, the only sound, the steady drip from one of the ceiling pipes hitting the floor. I silently beg, plead, and barter with any god who will listen that the others got out and are headed to the meeting spot.
Somewhere, not too far from us, a deafening boom sounds, echoing violently through the holding cells we're in.
The ground above us shifts, and dust flies from the now-cracked far wall.
My ears ring, and I hear faint shouting trickle in from different hallways.
Two of our guards take off, leaving the one I had battered standing stiffly by the door, trying to peer out.
My heart sinks.
They didn't leave.
I look over at Deacon, who gives me a silent, sympathetic nod, both of us thinking the same thing. Our attention is drawn back to the doorway when we hear a click, and a thud.
"Well, you two just going to sit there, or are we going to get the fuck out of here?" Berkley grits out, moving the now unconscious officer out of the way.
I can't help the broken sound that comes out at the sight of him, relief and panic mixing.
"You aren't supposed to be here. You were supposed to leave. You should have left!" I can't help the tears that blur my vision as I attempt to scold him. I watch in amazement as Tarius comes around the corner with the keys, first unlocking my door, then Deacon's.
"We would never leave without you, Maple.
Leo maybe, but not you," Berkley says, giving me a quick hug, and checking for injuries, before pulling me towards the door.
"Speaking of Leo, we have to move quickly.
Apparently Farra is fond of blowing shit up, and I suspect she's not going to stop until you're back. "
"Wait!" I say, remembering our packs. I run to the back of the small hall where I saw them get shoved into a closet. Grabbing both heavy bags, I begin to sprint, Deacon motions for me to give him his bag.
"No, you're hurt. I've got this," I say, but he snags it off my shoulder with a grunt.
"I'm fine. Let's get moving," Deacon bites back.
I follow Tarius, trusting him to lead us back through the maze to where we need to go.
"Is your stuff already at the bays?"
Berkley's reply is cut off by the suffocating wail of a siren.
"Shit. They've turned on the power. We need to move. Quickly!" Berkley yells over the siren. The sound is oppressive as it echoes through the empty hallways.
We pick up speed, sprinting as fast as we can with our overstuffed bags. Deacon seems to push through whatever pain he's in, and I barely register where we are as we follow Tarius through hall after underground hall. None of this looks familiar.
"Are we going a different way!?" I scream at him.
"Yes!" he shouts back. That would explain why these halls feel so foreign.
Someone cuts us off through an adjacent hallway, tackling Tarius and slamming him into the wall.
This time, Deacon doesn't hesitate. I watch as he takes out the first officer with ease, his baton coming down and smashing him in the head.
A lanky arm comes flying at me and I barely move out of the way in time.
I don't even register how many people we're fighting; the hallway is suddenly a flurry of fists, and grunts, and metal clashing.
I take a punch to the gut that knocks the air from my lungs.
I bend low, throwing my shoulder against the officer to drop him to the ground.
I look around, and it seems like things are looking up––until a gun goes off.
Standing alone, looking disheveled and beaten up, is Captain-fucking-Kethler.
Everyone stops. The remaining officer who hasn't been incapacitated, stands with a smug look on her face. Dread overcomes me as I realize that all our guns are in our bags, unloaded.
"Enough!" Kethler bellows.
I spit a wad of blood onto the ground in front of me, chest heaving.
We were so close. Again.
"You've signed their death sentences, you know," he says, pointing the gun at me. "So much potential in all of you. Wasted."
I wince. He's right. I dragged them all into this, but how does he know that?
Berkley straightens, his face softening for a fraction of a second when I look at him, and then everything is happening in slow motion.
Berkley charges Kethler, and the gun goes off —once. Twice.
The woman beside me lurches forward, but Deacon cuts her off before she gets to me. Tarius springs to his feet behind me, and I run towards Kethler and Berkley, who are a tangle of limbs on the ground.
Kethler's eyes lock with mine as he struggles to keep the gun away from Berk. I pin Kethler's forearm under my boot, stomping as hard as I can, Kethler lets out a howl.
Berkley slumps to the side, holding down the Captain's other arm with a groan.
Anger clouds my vision, and I stomp again, enjoying the crunch and wail that follows as my boot connects with the hand holding the gun. He releases it and screams as I kick it away.
Tarius is beside me now, and I let him take over subduing Kethler, while I try to get Berkley away.
His breathing is ragged, and I know, without looking, where those shots landed.
Turning him over, I put my hands over the gaping hole in his chest. Dark blood seeps between my fingers, too much of it.
"Berk, you sweet fool, why'd you do that? Huh? I thought you said we weren't supposed to play hero?"
He grunts. I put as much pressure as I can on the wound that's bleeding the most, willing it to stop. I look behind me to where Deacon is standing, frozen.
"Get me something to stop the bleeding," I scream at him.
He stands there just staring at me, shaking his head.
"Deacon! Now!" My voice cracks as I look to the ground beneath me, where a pool of blood is forming around my knees.
"No. No, no, no. Hey! You gotta hang on. I'll go get Leo, and he can try some of his fancy new tricks on you." I clench my teeth, trying to hold back tears.
Berkley’s hands come up to cover mine where I'm leaning into the wounds on his chest.
"It's ok, Maple," he croaks out, and his voice is gurgling and quiet and… wrong.
"No. No, it's not ok. You're coming with us and you're going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine." I put more pressure on the wound, bunching up the rag that Deacon finally hands to me. Willing the blood to slip from my hands, back into my friend.
"Thank... you. I have something good to tell them now.
.. Was all worth it." He taps my fingers, and I know he wants me to look at him.
To say goodbye. But I can't. He said he wouldn't leave me behind.
My eyes find his, and he gives me a look that says a million things.
I watch in horror as they go peacefully blank.
Tears fall heavily onto him and I try to blink them away enough to see. This can't be happening.
"Berkley?" I cry out his name.
When I look back at him, I know he's gone. His eyes are open, but he's not there.
A sob wracks through me, ugly and sharp, and I feel my heart fissure inside me like the shattering of a mirror. Angry, gaping.
Tarius says something, but I barely hear it. He's got the captain—who is grinning, fucking grinning—pinned underneath him.
"Maple, I'm so sorry, but we have to go," Deacon says from behind me, gently pulling my shoulder.
I bend, covering Berkley's body. I hug him one last time, before closing his eyes and standing. He deserves so much more.
My body moves as if through water, as I walk to where the gun lays abandoned on the floor. Kethler's smug smirk fades as I pick it up.
"Tell me!" I shout at him, gun pointed at his face. "Tell. Me. Why!? Why are they lying about everything?"
The look that takes over his face is manic.
"To level the playing field. We're almost there... you can't stop it. All those with dirty magic in their blood will be weeded out and the world will be right. Pure." His eyes are wide, defiant, as he spits the words at me.
Those neatly stacked barriers—the walls and boxes where I’ve carefully kept a lifetime of my rage and pain—no longer seem sufficient against the yawning void of Berkley’s death.
There's no hesitation as I cock the gun, and pull the trigger, painting red through his white hair.