Squawk - Beginnings: The Dragon Games Revolution Page 7
“A boy? Does the boy have a name?”
“Caleb, I think. Caleb,” the woman said.
“And how did he kill these five men?”
“A spear, maybe?”
The Count held her gun up to the Katy’s face. “Maybe it was a gun.”
Katy stuck her hands underneath her armpits. “I’m pretty sure it was a spear.”
With a polished smile, the Count said, “Thank you, Katy. Thank you. Go ahead and join the mass of fools you came in with!”
“Okay.” With a nod, Katy turned her back and started to walk away.
The Count drove her boot into the gangly woman’s back and drove her to the ground. “Get your ass off my stage before I shoot it off!”
Katy scrambled off the platform and fell down the steps.
The Count turned on the last man. She shoved him into the middle of the stage.
“Let’s hear your story, Marvin! Tell it!” She stuck her finger in his temple. “Tell it in detail!”
Marvin was a barrel-chested man much older than the others. With a nod, he said, “I’ll tell it as they say.” His voice was rich. Unafraid. “A swarm of dragons took them out. Big ones. It happened because Saul’s boy, Gabe, left the compound and brought a curse on them.”
“Tell me, Marvin, who died?”
He licked his lips. “I can’t say for certain. I think Iron Head was one of them.”
Her eyes narrowed on the man that was bigger than herself, she said, “Is that all, Marvin?”
“That was enough for me. Three dead!” He pumped his arm. “Someone must pay!”
The crowd roared, their passions ignited.
The Count swatted Marvin in the back of the head with the butt of her gun. The man hit the stage like a bag of sand. The throng fell silent.
Stepping on top of the man, she addressed the people. “Three citizens. Three different stories. Is any one of them the truth? Perhaps. But perhaps this is all a ruse—a ploy to divide us. I see the writings. The markings. I know there are traitors among us that would do us harm.” She paused and drew the letters N and A in the air.
The people started looking at one another and grumbling among themselves.
“This vermin taints our streets and is the enemy, citizens of Newton.” The Count holstered her gun and stepped to the edge of the stage. “It poisons our wells. It divides us amongst ourselves. Its venom is quick and fatal. I’m not even gone a day”—her head sagged—“and this happens.”
A voice shouted from somewhere among the masses. “We want answers! Something happened out there!”
The Count lifted her chin. “Yes, it is time for honesty. It is time for truth. Let’s hear it from the men who were actually there.” She pointed at Sage. “Fetch the hunters.”
Sage gave the guards a nod, and they hurried away.
“Saul. Gabe. Come up on stage,” she said.
Gabe’s father guided him from behind, up onto the stone platform, walking slowly. Every eye in the pavilion was on the both of them. Saul said, “Keep your eyes down.”
Moments later, the hunters were marched up onto the stage. Gabe could feel many eyes boring into him. The long, hard looks seemed to burn his skin away, layer by layer, to the bone. He shivered.
Finally, the Count broke the silence. “Gabe, do you want to tell the story?”
Malak bristled. His mouth opened to speak. The Count cut him off with a look that could have split a stone.
Gabe’s chest was tighter than a drum. He could barely breathe.
“I’ll do it,” Saul said.
Stepping aside, the Count said, “The stage is yours.”
Saul made his way forward, and with a nod from the Count, he recounted the tale. “We set out traps as we always do. Late nightfall, one, about yay big”—he spread his arms out the breadth of his shoulders—“took the bait. It was notable, every bit what we thought could be causing trouble in the fields. Otis and his brother closed in with the net.” Saul’s captivating voice had the audience hanging on his every word. “That’s when it struck. Not the dragon in our sights, but something else. It was a grand dragon.” There were audible gasps. “It was bigger than any three of us hunters. Olley—Five Fingers—was dead before I blinked. Malak’s son fell to its claws. We all went after it. Every man fought for his life and for one another. Iron Head went down. The next thing I knew, the beast was on top of me with Malak’s spear in its back. Nothing we did slowed it. Somehow, Gabe and Buggy pushed Malak’s spear deep into the thing and killed it.”
All was quiet in the pavilion. The Count motioned for Buggy. He came forward, licking his lips, blinking his eyes, and wringing his hands in front of him.
She asked, “Is what Saul says true? You and the boy killed the dragon?”
“Not entirely.” Buggy wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve. He shot a fleeting look at Malak. “My limbs were locked. Then I watched the boy do the bravest thing I ever saw. He pounced on the dragon with no sort of weapon and started driving in the spear. It lifted me beyond my fears. If you ask me, if it wasn’t for Gabe, we’d all be dead.”
Breathing became easier for Gabe. Mercy, mercy on me.
“There’s no proof in what he’s saying,” Malak growled. “The boy is no hero. He’s a bad omen!”
“Silence, Malak.” The Count marched by all of the hunters. “Do any of you feel that Saul’s story and Buggy’s confirmation are unfounded? If so, speak, and tell your version.”
All of the hunters’ lips were sealed.
She stood before the crowd. “Now you have the truth. One incident, several witnesses. Are there any other accusations or rumors you’d care to spread? Would you like to resume the destruction of your own homes? Perhaps we should just burn all of Newton to the ground!”
No one said a word until Malak broke the silence. “The boy needs punished for leaving the wall, Count.”
Sage appeared on stage. He said something in the Count’s ear. She nodded. The envoy left the stage. Facing Saul and Gabe, she said, “It seems the Dominion has rendered a swift decision about the boy.”
Gabe’s heart beat in his throat. He clung to his father’s side.
Sage appeared back on stage with a rod full of leather tassels. The Count took it from his hands. The people chanted, “Justice! Justice! Justice!”
CHAPTER 17
Gabe’s moment basking in the light as a hero was shattered. He thought he’d get a reprieve—a break. He’d thought his life would go back to normal except that he’d be treated differently. His fantasies were quashed. His father had said there would be a price to pay. The Count also made that clear. He just figured he’d be ready for the punishment. He’d been punished plenty of times before.
The Count held the lash out in front of Saul’s eyes. “Take it.”
Saul’s hands fidgeted.
Not liking the delay, she made her way over toward the other hunters. “Perhaps I should let Malak handle it, then?”
Eyes filled with burning rage, Malak came forward and tried to grab the lash.
Saul beat him to it. He took the lash away from the Count. “I’ll handle it.” He turned his attention to Gabe. “Shirt off.”
Lip quivering, Gabe said, “But, Dad…” The hollow stare in his father’s eyes silenced his attempts to defend himself. This was going to happen. The crowd demanded punishment. They still chanted for justice. Many wide-eyed children were on the shoulders of their parents, but they weren’t chanting. They were scared. Those fear-filled looks fueled the terror building in Gabe’s chest. Heart thundering in his ears, he removed his shirt. Head down, he kneeled before his father.
“How many?” Saul asked the Count.
“Seven.”
Without warning, the lash whistled through the air. The leather stung his bare skin with the fury of a thousand bees. Smack! Gabe choked out a desperate sob. The blinding pain dizzied his brain. Without a moment for him to recover, the lash smote him again. Smack! He dropped to his hands and knees.
He shook at the elbows and started to wail.
“Hold your tongue, son!” Saul said in a sharp, whispering command.
Smack!
It took everything Gabe had in him to not cry out again. He bit his lip and braced himself for the next searing blow. The fourth lash sprawled him out on the floor.
“Get up, son,” his father said with a tremor in his strong voice. “Get up. It’s almost over.”
Somehow, Gabe pushed himself up onto his knees. He swayed. The leather striped his back again like a crack of lightning striking him from the sky. The angry chants turned to pleas for mercy. It did not come.
Smack!
The lashes were wet with blood.
Smack!
It was over. He didn’t know whether he’d cried or bled more. That last thing he heard was the Count saying, “Children, remember this, the visage of disobedience.”
He collapsed into the strong arms of his father.
***
Inside their cove, Mabel was peeling the bandages from his back.
“Ow.” His eyes watered. It had been a week since he’d been publicly whipped in the pavilion. He’d woken up inside the room, lying in his cot, barely able to move. The pain was so bad that he didn’t think he’d even be able to walk again. Finally, he’d been able to sit up and eat, but it still hurt to do so. “Ow,” he said again.
From behind him, Mabel continued to hum and pick at his wounds. He could feel her fingers on his back, tracing the gashes. Every once in a while, she would say, “Uh-hum.”
“Is it getting better?”
She continued to hum. She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes and pointed. There were some clean bandages sitting on the blankets at his feet. Groaning, he reached down, picked them up, and handed them over. She tapped him under the elbows. Wincing, he raised his arms high, and Mabel began wrapping the bandages around his chest and back with hands that did not shake.
“I’m sorry I left you,” Gabe said. “I guess there was a price for it.” He expected an Uh-hum, but he didn’t get one. Mabel continued to dress his wounds until she was finished. He lowered his arms. “Thanks.”
With a raspy sigh, Mabel helped herself up and teetered across the room. There was a copper-colored cane with a rubber handle at the top leaning against the wall. She took it and headed out of the apartment.
Gabe could hear the soft click of the cane as she shuffled down the hall. The sound faded, but he knew where she was—three doors down, in old man Cotton’s room. That left Gabe alone again in the stuffy room. His father’s armor and spear were gathered in the corner. Some food and a bottle of water sat on the table. Wincing, he headed for the table, grabbed some of the crackers, and started to nibble. Outside of the window, he could see the compound. It was midmorning, and the compound hummed with its usual activity. He missed being outside. His father had given him strict orders not to leave the room. In addition to that, Saul hadn’t been around that much, either. It was lonely. His grandmother was his only company.
Boy, I really screwed things up.
He spent most of his time staring out of the window. He’d see the farmers leaving just before the dawn and heading back in at the end of the day. There were more guards with them than before. He couldn’t see the dragon hunters exiting, but there were other gates in and out of the compound. The northern gate was the only one that he could see. He stared out of that window for hours.
This is miserable.
Even with his back burning, the thought of scrubbing with Jack seemed appealing. Anything to be outside. He envied the children who scurried through the streets, dodging their responsibilities—at least until they got caught. The adults would take them by the ears, hair, or nape of the neck and put them back to work. But most of all, he missed his father and the dragon cages. And he couldn’t stop wondering about those eggs that they’d found. He wanted to see them hatch so badly.
I’m never going to see them again. I know I’m never going to see them again.
Staring out of the window, he sighed. “I’m probably never going to even leave this room again.”
CHAPTER 18
Something in the darkness picked at Gabe. It nipped at him. He fell. Wind rustled his hair. Below, the gaping mouth of a dragon waited to swallow him whole. He screamed, but no sound came. “Aaaaahhh!”
Jostled from his slumber, he jerked upright in his cot. “Ugh!” The scabs on his healing back burned. “Oh man, that hurts!” That was when he noticed the warm hands holding his shoulders and found his father’s eyes watching him. “Dad?”
“You were dreaming again. Another scary one?”
“A dragon was about to gobble me up.” Gabe reached around his back, scratching underneath the bindings. “What’s going on?”
With tired eyes and a lively grin, Saul said, “Are you ready to go for a walk?”
Gabe swung his feet over to the floor. “I can leave?”
“We can leave,” Saul said, setting Gabe’s boots in his lap. “Unless you’d rather stay here.”
“After two weeks of this?” Gabe said in a voice filled with excitement. He jerked his boots on. “Even a stroll in the sewers would be nice.”
“I think we can do better than that. Come on.”
Gabe laced his boots up and went skipping down the hall until he caught up with his father. He was free, finally free. “Where are we going?”
“Just stay close. And remember, we don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves.” Saul pushed open the door that led into the dark stairwell. “Stay behind me.” Saul took his time going down the steps, and when he made it to the first landing, he stopped.
Gabe could barely make out his father’s face in the dim light that crept in from the soot-covered windows. The man’s brows were buckled however. Dread started to seep into him. “What’s going on, Dad?”
“Listen to me, Gabe. Everything that happened is far from water under the bridge. Most of the people have accepted what happened, but then there are people like Malak. They’re still angry.” Saul held Gabe’s face. “The Count managed to pull off a favor, and she didn’t like it, either. Now I owe her, and I don’t like that. You owe her too. At least she thinks that you do. The point is I try to be truthful in all things. But I lied to protect you in the wasteland when I bluffed about the eggs and told her we didn’t have any. She won’t forget that. And the truth, well, it comes out, but sometimes when it’s buried so long, by the time it resurfaces, it doesn’t matter so much.”
Shaking his head, Gabe said, “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t always understand, myself, but the older you get in this world, the more you start to learn that sometimes you have to play along to get along. You won’t always like it, but you need to pay attention. You need to learn from me.”
“I will, Dad.” Gabe didn’t understand what his father was talking about, but the last thing that he wanted to do was disappoint him. Especially after all they had been put through. “I’ll do my best.” I hope.
“Good, Gabe. I’m counting on it.”
CHAPTER 19
The southern part of the compound was unlike the north. There were rows of brick apartment buildings no higher than three stories that sat behind a man-made wall thick with concrete blocks and mortar. It was a smaller area than the rest of Newton. The members of the Dominion lived there in a smaller, cleaner, more refined district all their own.
Gabe noted the sun sparkling on the clean windows. From time to time, he’d try to get a glimpse of the people within. At the moment, a woman in a lavender set of robes stood in the window. He’d never get a good count on the members of the Dominion, but if he had to guess, there were only a few hundred. Sometimes, he could smell mouthwatering spiced meat roasting from their corner of the compound. He’d even toyed with the idea of sneaking in there. But there were more guards on the Dominion’s inner wall than in the entire city of Newton.
His father tugged him by the elbow. “Come on.”
Gabe
tore his gaze away from the window. With Saul leading, he started to get excited again. The pain flaring in his back eased. He knew where they were going. Yes! The dragon den!
Saul ducked below a narrow archway that led into an alley barely a shoulder’s breadth wide. Stone steps, as long as they were wide, led down to a dead end. There was a metal door with a portal in the middle. Saul rapped his knuckles on it, tap-tap… tap-tap.
The portal door slid to the side, revealing the big, oily face of an older man. The man’s face was so meaty his eyes seemed to be closed. In a rugged voice, he said, “What’s the code?”
“Three ladies and four knights,” Saul replied.
“That’s not it,” the face said.
“Okay, Garland,” Saul said, rubbing his chin. “How about a penny in a hen house is better than an egg in a basket?”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Sully.” Garland peeked down at Gabe. “Who’s that?”
“You know who that is,” Saul replied.
“Ah, it’s your personal whipping post. Boy, I’m surprised you’re alive after a beating like that. You hurt, don’t you?”
“No,” Gabe said.
“Hee-hee.” Garland slid the portal door shut. The hollow locks tumbled inside the metal frame, and the door swung inward. A little man stood within. Garland was no higher than four feet tall and built like the stump of a tree. He scanned the alley beyond them. “Hurry up! You’re letting the bugs in.”
Saul and Gabe slipped inside. The door closed behind them, and with a turn of a dial-like mechanism, it was locked. A hard little hand slapped Gabe in the back.
“Ow!” He glared down at Garland. “What’d you do that for?”
“Because you’re an idiot, that’s why!” Garland extended his chubby little hand and smiled with a mouthful of short teeth. “Welcome back to the den, Gabe. No one cleans the dragon dung from the cages better than you.”