Page 28 of Queen of Anarchy (Dirty Broken Savages 2)

10

Priest

It’s dark.

It’s always dark.

No lights, so I’m barely able to see a few inches in front of my face.

For just a bit, I have no idea where I am. It could be anywhere. My nose is full of the scent of sweat, and I can taste my own pulse on the back of my tongue.

I’ve been running. Toward something? Away?

I don’t remember.

I don’t know.

At first.

But then things become clearer. In the darkness, I hear laughter. I hear taunts. Harsh voices calling my name, telling me I’m going to fucking pay for what I did.

Something slams into my back, hard. Whatever it is feels like it breaks on the impact, and I fall forward onto my hands and knees, wheezing from having the breath knocked out of me.

A light flares in the distance. First one and then another one.

It’s not enough to make things easy to see, but it casts some flickering illumination. Enough that when I look up, trying to get my breath and my bearings, I can see the man standing over me.

I remember him, and the details get sharper. Even though it’s hazy at first, I can’t forget that face. Mean and ugly, with a nose that looks like it’s been broken more than once, and a scar running down the right cheek.

Brody. The leader of the gang I crossed.

Even though part of my mind knows I’m dreaming right now, the images and sensations are as vivid and sharp as they were the day this all really happened. Every detail has been preserved with perfect clarity in my memory.

Brody jerks his chin, and his men grab me as he laughs and spits at me.

“You’re gonna pay now, motherfucker,” he drawls.

Something else breaks over my back, knocking me down again with such force that I’m wrenched out of his men’s hold. My body aches, bruised and battered, and I feel feet kicking at my sides. I roll over, trying to protect myself, to get my arms over my head and protect my middle, but suddenly, it’s not just Brody beating me.

I’m surrounded. Even more of his men have come to join him.

There’s more jeering, more laughter. I can’t make out any faces. They could all be wearing the same mask for all I know. Wide grins, wild eyes.

They’re spoiling for a fight. For carnage and violence. The scent of blood is in the air, and they smell my weakness. They want to hurt me, to rip me apart and make me pay.

Brody leads the pack, and they jump on his order, lighting into me. Fists and feet and bats. Beating me and telling me I deserve it.

The raucous laughter drowns out my grunts of pain, and my jaw is tight from trying to hold back anything more than that. They won’t get screams from me. They won’t see me break.

And even as they attack me, those lights keep flickering in the distance.

Through the haze of pain and anger, I look up and see that they’re not electric lights at all.

It’s fire.

As soon as I realize that, the screaming starts.

Jade.

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