Page 10 of Savage Warrior

I whimper when he hauls me to the front of the van again. I’m sure he’s broken my ribs.

“Another sound out of you and you’re dead. Do you understand that?”

I don’t answer, so he shakes me, hard enough that I swear my brain rattles.

“Do you hear me, slut?”

“Y-yes,” I rasp.

“Right.”

He grabs a hessian bag from somewhere behind me and drags it over my head. Then he shoves me onto the floor, facedown, and ties my wrists behind me. He says nothing more, just leaves me where I am, stunned, battered, convinced every moment could be my last.

I float in and out of consciousness, barely aware of the passage of time. At some point we come to a halt and we’re all marched out of the van and loaded onto another vehicle. I’m half dragged, half carried, the hessian bag still over my head. More female voices surround me, low and hesitant, the other women muttering to each other occasionally. No one speaks to me.

I drift off into my peculiar bubble of hazy half-awareness, almost grateful for the near isolation. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to know any more. I just want this to be over.

I want to survive. And I want to go home. That’s all.

CHAPTER 3

Rome

“There was nothing you could have done.” My boss’s tone is low, his hand light on my elbow.

I ignore the remark and the reassuring touch. I deserve neither. Instead, I continue to gaze down at the pile of loose earth in front of me.

Somewhere off to my left, a doleful voice intones the traditional recital. “In sure and certain hope of the resurrection…”

I don’t believe a word of it and I doubt Moses would have either. He was never a man to put faith in any higher power, and I see no reason to assume he changed that view in his final moments. If he did, it did him no good.

The priest drones on. “…to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Ethan remains at my side, silent, as the funeral service plays out.

“We commend to Almighty God our brother Moses and we commit his body to the ground…”

Someone coughs. Another of our men clears his throat. Someone else mumbles a prayer of their own. Others simply shuffle their feet and wait for it to be over. As I do.

“…earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

Reverend Lennox falls silent at last. Men begin to file away towards the line of cars waiting on the driveways around the graveyard. Engines start up, and the vehicles form a respectful convoy as they roll slowly towards the exit and the meal that awaits us at one of the Savage-owned restaurants.

Still, I remain where I am, gazing at the earth where my friend lies, entombed. Ethan Savage, my boss, doesn’t move either. He’s flanked by his brother, Aaron, and by Jack Morgan, both his top lieutenants and my closest associates. We all take a few moments to say our final farewells to our friend and comrade.

“Time to go,” Ethan mutters eventually.

“I’ll catch you up,” I reply.

“No, you won’t.” Ethan’s arm is around my shoulders now. “You need to come with us.”

“I’m not hungry…” The last thing I feel like doing is sitting down to a meal, regardless of how fine the cuisine might be. And it will be exceptional. Ethan would stand for nothing less on such an occasion. Moses was a fine man, a valued colleague, much missed.

“It wasn’t an invitation,” he growls. “You’ve been eating yourself up over this for nearly a fortnight now. Shit happens. It happened to Moses, but it’s done now. No one’s fault—”

“It should have been me,” I spit, displaying an unaccustomed lack of respect for my leader. No one normally interrupts Ethan Savage.

He doesn’t rise to it, but neither does he back off. His arm tightens, and he draws me away from the graveside and towards his own black four-by-four. I’ve no wish to go with him, but the alternative would be to throw a punch, and I’m not yet at that stage, though I do briefly consider it. Instead, I allow myself to be propelled along the gravelled walkway, leaving the gravediggers to finish their task.

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