Chapter Twelve
Their trek through the mineshafts had been long, dark, and arduous. Despite the fact she had only recently been healed by the scanner, all too soon dehydration and hunger descended. There was something uniquely hellish about being stuck so far underground with no food, no water, and hardly any light. She had spent most of the journey praying, simply to keep her mind off the close, gloomy touch of the walls around her.
It had also helped her to ignore him. The Zeneethian scout, Max as he called himself, could not keep his eyes off her. Though Jackson made him walk between them, at every opportunity the soldier turned to face her. With an unreadable expression his gaze would dart all over her, as if he was continually checking she was alive.
Every time he did it a quick and sharp nausea would wash over her. She would have to clutch a hand firmly onto her stomach to calm her nerves.
Jackson hardly let them stop. They rested for only brief spurts, and though he let her sleep, he would never allow himself a second to close his eyes.
After untold hours, she saw and felt a change in the shafts. The dank, musty smell that had itched her nose and throat since entering this cave system lifted. The tunnel they were in started to rise too, subtly at first, soon it led to a dramatic incline.
With an almost fresh breeze playing at her cheeks and forehead, she smiled for the first time in days. After a little less than an hour, their tunnel suddenly widened, and after a sharp turn they walked into the light.
It spilled in from a large opening ahead. Though she wanted to run out and embrace the sunshine beyond like a long lost child returning home, Jackson hadn’t let her.
“Keep down, stay low, keep quiet. We need to ensure there’s no one around the entrance. The Zeneethians might have left scouts there.” Jackson crouched, lodging the gun against the side of a jagged rock as he peered around the wall.
Though she wanted to ignore him, she followed his command and pushed her back up against the rock behind her.
She doubted the exit was seething with scouts; they hadn’t seen a single sign of them since Jackson had found Max. She appreciated the need to be careful though.
Cautiously, Jackson had given the all-clear after thoroughly assessing the cave mouth with the scope of his rifle. In single file they’d moved forward, Jackson at the lead.
They were not leaving through one of the common exits. According to Jackson, who had studied the mine map obsessively, this cave mouth had hardly been used. Though it would not lead them straight onto an accessible Ashkan road they could easily follow to the capital, at least it offered them less chance of walking straight into the arms of a unit of Zeneethian Scouts.
As soon as Jackson had given the all-clear to exit the tunnel, Ki’s heart had soared. The oppressive, smothering feel of being locked up underground burnt up in the sunshine as it warmed her cheeks and face.
“Stay low,” Jackson reminded her several times as they walked out onto the side of a hill.
The sun was high in the sky, darkened by only a scant number of fleeting white clouds. There was a glorious light breeze pushing its way up the slope towards them, rushing into the cave mouth behind.
While the other side of the mountain had been nothing but scrubby foliage, pine trees, boulders, and scree, the land opening up before her was lush and green. Grassy hills rolled down to a town, a network of grey roads curling around it and out of sight.
Turning behind her, she stared into the cave mouth, almost wincing at the dark shadows within. Though she’d hated every second of it, she could appreciate how far they’d come.
“It looks like there’s no one around,” Jackson surveyed their surroundings with the scope of his rifle, only letting it drop to his side after several sweeps of the hill around them, “yet. We need to be very careful. Ki, I want you to grab some fabric from the backpack and tie it around your hands. There’s a town just at the foot of this hill, and we should reach it within the hour.”
Ki did not ask questions; she knew fully well why Jackson wanted her to hide her hands. They were artfully covered in Tarkan sacred symbols. While the images were beautiful and she loved them dearly, she appreciated they would reveal who she was in an instant.
She was about to enter an Ashkan town. The thought of it made her shiver, a quick and prickling chill drawing up her back.
While she had trusted her life to Jackson in the tunnels, everything was about to change. As soon as they set foot in an Ashkan city, she would be at his complete mercy. With a single word he could have her taken to jail, perhaps even shot. Not to mention Max.
“We have a couple of hours left of day light, but I want to make it down there as quick as we can. We need to arrange transport to the city, call the Guards, and, more importantly, find some food,” Jackson patted his stomach, a kinked smile fattening one of his cheeks.
“What do you mean call the Guards?” her boots crunched against the grit and stones that were littered outside the cave mouth. Jackson had given her his shoes back in the tunnels. No, he’d practically forced them onto her feet. Though she’d tried to protest, secretly she’d been thankful. The thought of going barefoot through those caves again had been torture.
“Don’t worry, I mean for Max. We need to get him in a secure facility as soon as we can—” Jackson began.
She frowned, the move dramatic and pronounced. “Jackson, won’t he just tell them about me?”
Max, despite being gagged, nodded. He even tried to speak around the gag, his muffled words almost recognizable.
“We can’t take a bound, gagged man around with us. Someone will call the police. Plus, we’ll be faster without him.”
“But the other scouts will come for him. As soon as they find out where he is, they’re going to swoop down in their ships. This town won’t stand a chance,” that frown tracked deeper into her cheeks and chin. “The Zeneethians will be monitoring all Ashkan communications, waiting for any mention of him.”
“What do you want me to do, Ki?” Jackson clamped his hands on his hips, manipulating his shoulder back and forth as he did. She could see how tensed it was. His whole body looked tight and sore. His head was still held high though.
“I don’t know... it’s just... shouldn’t we be very careful with what we do with him? As soon as someone removes that gag, he’s going to tell them who I am and where we’re going....”
“I doubt that. Remember, he’s not going to do anything to put you in danger,” Jackson didn’t look at her as he spoke – he locked his hardened, aggressive glare on Max and didn’t shift it once. “If he admits to the Guards that you’re Tarkan, he could risk them over-reacting. He’s not going to do anything to harm you.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean we’ll be safe,” she scratched at her arms distractedly. She had more to say, but she couldn’t sort her thoughts out.
Fear was returning to her. Being out of the caves and mineshafts was all very well, but as she stared past Jackson at the cute town below them, she realized how much of a threat it could be.
There was no easy move from here. Whatever they did next would be risky, and if they didn’t think it through, it would cost them.
“We’ll make it to the town first. We need to get you some food. And hell, I need a shower. Then we’ll make our decision.” Jackson exhaled deeply, his chest punching forward, his red-rimmed, shadowed eyes staring at her warily.
He was entirely worn out. Nothing but adrenaline would be pushing him forward. Though he appeared to stand easily, on closer inspection she could see how stiff and locked his knees were as his body swayed slightly back and forth, tension arching his back and spreading his cheeks thin.
He looked about ready to collapse. If he did, she was sure Max would take advantage of it immediately. While they’d all been subjected to the same laborious trek through the tunnels, he was the only one whose face was not darkened with bone-weary fatigue. He also stood taller than Jackson, his muscles showing no visible strain despite the heavy pack still weighin
g down his shoulders.
He would simply be waiting for his opportunity. Ki could appreciate that. At the first chance, Max would make his move.
“Look, we need to get down there as quickly as we can. We can decide what to do on the way. But we can’t just stand here and keep on talking about this. We are exposed up here. We should head down to the dip in that grass hill,” he pointed below them, his arm shaking a little from the usually simple strain of such a move, “the grass is taller there and there are some oaks and birches dotted through the meadow. It’s not much, but it will give us a little cover. If we were smart, we wouldn’t move until night. But I don’t want to wait that long.”
She stepped forward and nearly reached a hand out to him. He was taxed and fraught. “Okay, let’s go.” She did not say another word. Turning, she headed down the incline, aiming for the grass hill below them.
Jackson was right; they could discuss this en route. She could also appreciate that the longer they argued outside that cave mouth, the riskier their situation became. They may not have seen any scouts in the tunnels, but with the sophisticated equipment the Zeneethians had, it would not be long before they scanned the surrounding area and spotted the group.
That realization brought a hot and biting flush to her cheeks. The scanner may have healed her injuries, but it had not touched on the fear still burning through her heart. With every step her emotions surged as her mind ran through the possibilities before them. It looked almost certain that she would be re-captured. She simply couldn’t see a way around it. While she could appreciate how important Max could be to finding intelligence on the Zeneethians, perhaps he wouldn’t be worth the risk.
The wind picked up the further they walked, and soon it pulled at her hair and the hem of her robe, blowing them around her with every step. She had to lock her hands over her thighs to pin the fabric to her body, lest her hem blow up with one of the gusts of wind. At least her feet were warm and secure in Jackson’s boots though. He’d stuffed them with strips of fabric to accommodate the size of her petite feet, and they’d been a thankful cushion against the jolt of her every step.
Now she had to be very careful not to trip on them though.
As they neared the town below, her anxiety peaked. Her heart started to reverberate in her ears, her hands cloying with sweat.
“Jackson, are you—” before she could finish her sentence, she watched Max snap his head to the side. His muscles were rigid, his expression alert.
“Sure? Yes, I’m sure,” Jackson finished off her sentence and answered it in a single, stuttering breath. “I’ll figure this out, trust me.” He was walking several steps ahead, and he clearly hadn’t seen Max.
Alarm swelling, Ki stopped. Max’s nostrils flared as he sniffed the air, his brow wrinkling like crumpled paper.
“J-Jackson, Max is—” she began.
She didn’t get to finish her sentence. Max barreled into her with no warning. He changed direction, pivoted on his foot, and ploughed her way with the speed of a car.
She screamed, her voice high-pitched and wavering, her throat constricted.
“Get off her—” Jackson roared, but his voice cut out as a loud whine echoed overhead.
It sounded like the rotors of a plane.
Before fear crippled her at the prospect of the Zeneethians returning, she heard something zip overhead.
Max pushed her into the ground, his shoulder and chest covering her head. Though he was heavy, she wasn’t being crushed.
There was another zipping sound. This time she recognized it.
Bullets.
Someone was shooting at them.
“Stop, stop,” Jackson screamed. “I’m a member of the Royal Academy, I have a prisoner. Stop shooting.”
Ki screwed her eyes closed, drawing her body in as Max still covered it with his own.
As every second passed she felt like it could be her last. But as they ticked by into a minute, she started to hear the sound of footfall.
“My name is Jackson Walker, I work at the Royal Academy,” Jackson called out. His words were desperate and slurred, ringing with passion. “Stop shooting.”
Max still didn’t move. If anything, he pressed his shoulder down further.
“Stand up, put your hands behind your head. Move slowly,” a man said, his voice a low, baritone growl.
It sent a shiver down her back and over her arms. It did not sound like a Zeneethian Scout; their voices were always distorted by their armor. Plus, the bullets that had zoomed past them had sounded like the ordinary variety.
That all meant one thing; Ashkan Guards had just assaulted them. Before Ki could truly come to terms with that fact, she felt Max being yanked back. She had to twist her head hard to the side as the sun suddenly shone into her eyes. Squinting, she was grabbed and pulled to her feet.
Overhead an Ashkan warplane made a low pass. She recognized the blue and red of their flag painted over the tail and nose.
She’d only seen one of those plains once before. Her monastery had always been so far from the battle fronts that she’d been thankfully far from the fighting. Yet on a pilgrimage to Pandaya Shrine, she’d come across the wreckage of such a plane covered by moss and creepers in the woods. The memory of its smooth, metallic body had stuck in her mind.
Flinching, she tried to duck down as the sound of the plane roared overhead. She could not move far. A man had her by the arm, his stiff and crooked fingers digging into her flesh. He was wearing a uniform she had seen before. While Ki had been all but protected from Ashkan warplanes, she knew the uniform of their Guards well. All Tarkans did.
Black with red collars, cuffs, and strips up the outside of the legs, it instilled instant and palpable fear in her. Sickened by the sight of it, she tried not to quake.
“My name is Jackson Walker,” Jackson stood a little down the hill, face awash with surprise and fear. “That man is my prisoner, you need to—” he began.
“You need to shut up,” a man said. He was standing close to Jackson, a handgun held easily and loosely in his grip. He was older, maybe in his late 40’s, with a brush moustache and pockmarked cheeks. One look at his steely gaze and you could see he suffered no fools. You could also see the deadened, almost pathological vacant edge to his smile. “I know who you are. You called the Guards in Varka City to your farmhouse approximately 58 hours ago. None of them ever returned.”
Jackson’s face paled in a snap, his cheeks practically slipping down his neck.
“You claimed to have captured a female Tarkan spy,” the man turned briefly and nodded at the man who held Ki. “Is she it?”
Without warning, Ki was pushed forward roughly. Stumbling, she didn’t have a chance to right herself before someone grabbed her and ripped the fabric from around her hands. She watched in horror as her tattoos were revealed.
“I see.” The man turned back to Jackson, though briefly he stared up at Ki. The quality behind his gaze went beyond frightening. It was horrific. It promised rage Ki had been kept from all her life.
Without warning she began to cry. Once such an emotional reaction would have irritated her, now she submitted to it, the tears trailing their brief warm kiss down her cheeks. At least she managed to stifle her sobs though as she half closed her eyes and stared at the ground.
“Look, you don’t understand what is going on, I have captured—” Jackson began.
“Hand over your gun,” the man snapped. “I am Major Victor Bradshaw, and I demand your full cooperation.”
Jackson didn’t immediately move. He looked frozen on the spot, every trace of warmth gone from his pallid cheeks and hands.
Things had happened quickly, and now they were moving at a pace Ki could not keep up with. She found the time to meet his gaze though. Sadness and just a hint of compassion seemed to swell within him.
“Hand it over,” the Major snapped again.
“You need to know what you’re dealing with, Major. That man,” Jackson pointed at Max, “is
from a previously unknown—” he began.
“I know exactly what I’m dealing with. A traitor. Now hand over the gun before we’re forced to shoot.” The Major brought up his own weapon slowly.
Jackson somehow paled further. If there was any blood left in his cheeks, it now drained away completely as shock seized him. “I’m not a traitor.”
“You harbored a Tarkan spy. You led a group of Guards into a trap. And you kidnapped a senior intelligence official. How else do you define traitor?” the Major’s cold, harsh voice deepened further.
“Kidnapped a senior intelligence official? What the hell are you talking about?” Jackson backed off.
As soon as he took a step, every Guard snapped their guns up quickly, pointing them all his way.
You did not need to be skilled in emotion to recognize Jackson’s full-bodied shock.
“Put your gun down,” the Major growled once more.
With one last flickering look her way, Jackson complied. Instantly one of the Guards snapped forward and plucked it up.
“Handcuff him,” the Major flapped a hand Jackson’s way and turned neatly to face Ki and Max.
Ki tried to jolt back, but she was grabbed immediately.
“Leave her alone. She’s not your enemy. This man is—” Jackson began.
“Archer Reed, a valued member of the intelligence community, apparently,” the Major nodded quickly at one of the Guards. The man snapped over to Max, pulling a flip knife from his pocket and cutting him free with swift moves.
With the remains of the rags that had once bound him falling from his wrists, Max reached up and ungagged himself. Through it all he kept an even, unreadable look on his face and all of his attention centered on Ki.
“We apologize it has taken us this long to track you,” the Major cleared his throat, straightening up. “We only received the message you had been kidnapped by this traitor less than half an hour ago. We acted as quickly as we could.”
Max nodded silently, then he reached out a hand and shook the Major’s.
“God... you can’t trust him. Listen to me, this might sound crazy, but someone has accessed your communications and—” Jackson swallowed wildly, eyes plastered open as he choked through his words.
“Shut up,” the Major growled. “Silence him if he speaks again,” he flopped a hand at one of the Guards.
“Thank you for your prompt assistance,” Max pulled the pack from his shoulders and let it fall with a heavy thump onto the grass beside him.
“We will secure the prisoners and arrange transport into Valia City for you immediately,” the Major latched his hands behind his back and nodded harshly at Ki.
One of the Guards stepped in beside her, yanking up her hands as he pulled some cuffs over them.
“No,” Max snapped. “She’s mine. She is integral to an operation we are currently running. I am afraid I need to claim a full jurisdiction here.”
“She’s a Tarkan spy—” the Major began.
“True, but she is my Tarkan spy,” Max rubbed distractedly at his wrists and fixed the Major with an untroubled look. “This is a matter of national security. She is providing us with integral intelligence.”
Grinding his teeth, the Major eventually nodded, though he did not drop his gaze as he did. “Very well.”
“As for your traitor, you can do what you like with him. Though be advised that he will attempt to come up with outlandish and wild excuses to explain his actions. Don’t heed them.” Max patted at his shirt, removing some of the dust and rubble from his shoulders.
She didn’t dare interrupt. All she could do was stand there in abject horror as she realized what he was doing. Obviously the Zeneethians had found some way to interfere with Ashkan military communications, and had manufactured Max an alias. One that was working perfectly. He would get exactly what he wanted with no questions asked.
“Also, you will have to hand the gun over,” Max nodded at the Zeneethian particle weapon that was still in the arms of one of the Guards. “It’s experimental and we can’t run the risk of those designs getting into the hands of our enemies.”
“We seized the weapon—” the Major bristled.
“And we designed it and own it,” Max interrupted casually. He had an air of unchallenged authority about him. It was at odds with the snide, nasty way he’d been treating Jackson, and different yet again from the awed way he looked upon her.
He was clearly more than a simple soldier. Deft in manipulation and acting, it all made her fear him and the Zeneethians even more.
“This is not up for discussion, Major. If you would like to clarify that fact, please call your superiors. They will confirm that the experimental weapon and the Tarkan spy must be released into my custody,” Max finished cleaning off his shirt, and shifted around, appearing to get comfortable. “Go ahead, I’m in no hurry.”
“We will head back to the Guard station in the nearest town. I will make some calls, and then you and your property will be released into your care.” The Major nodded sharply down the hill, indicating a car that was parked down the steep incline. It was large and had the familiar red and blue crest of the Ashkan Royal Family painted on the side.
The plane overhead had stopped making passes, and with several more short interchanges between Max and the Major, the group moved down towards the vehicle.
Ki tried to catch Jackson’s attention, but he was wedged between two large men, both with their arms hooked over his. Occasionally she caught flashes of him though. His shoulders were dropped in defeat, his face directed at the ground, an unfathomable devastation crumpling his features.
He should never have tried to help her. She’d warned him about that all the way back at the farmhouse. Despite all the pain and hardship he’d put her through, she felt nothing but compassion for him in that moment.
He’d offered hope where no one else had. Even if it had only been a glimmer.
By the time they made it to the vehicle, the wind had picked up to a gale. It whipped at her exposed arms, chilling the flesh and sending shivers through her back and legs. Whilst the Zeneethian scanner had healed her of her injuries, the euphoric feeling it had left her with had long ago worn off. Now the cold and her persistent hunger and thirst were back to haunt her.
When they reached the car, she was piled in the back. One of the Guards pushed her roughly towards a seat, and she fell against it with a bang.
“Hey,” Max snapped, “you need to be careful with my prisoner.”
“Your prisoner or not, she’s going to need to be handcuffed and blindfolded until we deliver her to a holding cell. We can’t afford to have Tarkan spies observing everything we do.” The Major grabbed at a simple brown hessian bag and threw it at the Guard closest to Ki. Immediately the man snatched it up and pulled it over her head.
She wanted to scream as the rough fabric scratched against her cheeks. Cutting out the light almost completely, it reminded her of the cave system with its tight, dark walls that seemed to press in at you from every direction.
She held onto her emotions though, squeezing her eyes shut and pulling her hands into fists.
“If anything happens to her, you and your men will be held directly responsible,” Max lost the casual edge to his voice. Now it bridled with authoritative anger.
“She will be fine,” the Major dismissed him.
Someone grabbed her wrists and handcuffed her, and soon after she felt the vehicle’s engine rumble, her seat vibrating as it set off down the hill.
The ride was horrendously bumpy, and if two Guards hadn’t been seated firmly on either side of her, she would have probably fallen from her seat.
It would have been the least of her problems though. Soon she would be back in Zeneethia, on one of their floating cities, never to return to earth again.
Succumbing to defeat, she withdrew inward. There was nowhere else to go.