11

Watch out for the quiet ones.

They’ve learned how to mask their rage.

That night, Khalani barely slept. She used to find solace in sleep. But sometimes, fears cross boundaries they shouldn’t.

Sliding through barriers.

Burrowing into dreams.

Unyielding

Relentless.

She eventually got up and lay on the couch in the living room, her eyes fixed on the uneven white ceiling. The quietness of the room was deceptive. Every creak of the floorboards and distant murmur in the house was magnified.

The front door abruptly swung open, shattering the fragile silence.

The Chief strode in, her long black hair neatly braided down her back. Dressed in beige pants and a brown tank top that accentuated her toned arms, she exuded strength and confidence.

“Get everyone ready,” she commanded. “You’ll be assigned to your stations today.”

“Stations?” Serene appeared from around the corner, her dripping blue hair leaving dark stains on her shirt.

“Yes. In the Desert Spring, everyone pulls their own weight.” The Chief crossed her arms. “If you don’t work, you don’t eat. You have a few minutes to meet me outside.” With a decisive turn, she slammed the front door shut.

Khalani quickly roused the others. Wearing the loose-fitting tan clothing and black boots, the six of them followed the Chief into the harsh daylight.

Ferren and Jared stood guard on the porch, their impatience evident. Without a word, the Chief marched through the center of town, leaving them no choice but to follow.

The only improvement from yesterday was that the few town members on the road didn’t flee at their approach. They merely curled their lips in distaste.

“This is the main housing area.” The Chief’s voice stretched over the hot air as she pointed out various buildings. “Over there is the medical cabin, which you’ve already seen, and next to it is our dining hall.”

Serene stayed close by her side as they listened intently, with Brock, Adan, and Derek not far behind.

Takeshi hung back, scanning the outer walls obsessively.

“Ah, here we are.”

The Chief led them to an open dirt clearing beyond the houses. A group of thirty people, mostly men with smaller builds, stood in a circle wearing black cloaks.

“How’s it going, Patreus?” the Chief called out.

A taller man in a black tunic stood off to the side, hands resting on his hips. He had razor-short brown hair and a permanent frown etched on his tan face. At the Chief’s voice, he turned, his bulging muscles tensing.

“Please tell me it wasn’t one of these girls who killed Varo,” the man rumbled.

“It wasn’t.” The Chief tilted her head. “But you know better than to judge based off size, Patreus.”

Patreus crossed his arms. “Yes, you won’t let me forget that. So, which one did it?”

The Chief fixed her attention on Takeshi. “What’s your name?”

Takeshi’s expression hardened like the name he gave her. “Steele.”

“You really gave our men quite a beating, Steele.” Her voice was edged with bitter resentment. “The Desert Spring was built for peace, but we find ourselves needing the kind of tenacity you displayed. Your assignment is to assist Patreus in training our warriors. Think you can handle that?”

Takeshi’s frown deepened and his gaze flickered over Khalani and the others for a split second.

“What will their assignments be?” he asked.

The Chief sighed. “I’ve thought it through. The girls will help wash clothing. You two,” she indicated Adan and Derek, “will gather water from the well.”

The Chief finally turned to Brock. “And you will help prepare meals in the group kitchen.”

Brock’s fierce gaze narrowed. “I’d be more useful training your warriors than wasting time in the kitchen.” He spat the word like an insult.

“And the fact that you believe I care what you want makes this moment even more gratifying. Enjoy.” The Chief spun on her heel and marched away without looking back.

Patreus muttered under his breath and directed Khalani and Serene to a white building down the road to meet a woman named Marissa. Ferren and Jared led Derek and Adan to the well, while Brock begrudgingly marched toward the food hall, grumbling obscenities the whole way.

A few feet down the path, she glanced back and caught Patreus giving Takeshi a stern talking-to, his gaze icy and filled with distrust. Takeshi appeared to be listening intently, but his gaze shifted to her.

She froze, but Serene said, “C’mon, Khalani. We don’t want to get in trouble.”

Khalani nodded, continuing on their path. She couldn’t help but peer over her shoulder once more.

But Takeshi never looked back.

***

For the next few days, Khalani and Serene spent their time scrubbing dirty clothes in large water barrels.

They worked until the sun dipped below the horizon and the oppressive heat gave way to a cool chill.

In the evening, they joined the others in the log cabin for a quick, brothy meal. Despite the hard work they put in each day, the Desert Spring residents continued to stare at them as if Khalani and the others were going to murder them in their sleep.

At night, in the stillness of the house, the six of them gathered to discuss escape plans. Adan and Brock searched every corner and crevice to ensure there were no cameras or listening devices. Even though they couldn’t find anything, they still talked in hushed whispers in the bedroom.

Brock and Takeshi were confident in their abilities to knock out Ferren and Jared, the guards who were tasked with keeping a close on eye them, but the wall presented a more daunting challenge. It was heavily guarded, both on the ground and from above.

Their best idea yet was Adan making a very tall ladder…

So, they basically had nothing.

Their small ray of hope and the only thing keeping Khalani from pulling her hair out was Winnie’s gradual improvement.

Each night, Khalani visited her, intently watching the steadiness of her breathing and the hint of color returning to her cheeks.

But Winnie still hadn’t woken up.

“Give it time,” Ari had said the previous night, her hand gently resting on Khalani’s shoulder. “When the body sleeps, it can concentrate on healing itself.”

The next day, Khalani found herself scrubbing the dirty clothes harder, the soap dissolving into her skin as the sun set low in the sky. The faster she finished, the sooner she could check on Winnie.

“Why does it feel like we’ve gone from one prison to another,” Serene grumbled, holding up her soaked and wrinkled hands in disgust.

“At least we’re not behind bars this time. And we have a shower.”

Khalani said this, but a heavy weight had settled in her gut. She couldn’t pinpoint the problem, but every time she walked back to the house at night, an unsettling sensation crawled up her spine, and her steps hastened.

Like an invisible monster watched her from behind the curtains.

“Switched out iron bars for a roommate that snores,” Serene replied, momentarily distracting her.

“I do not snore!”

“Sure do. I bet even Takeshi can hear it outside the door.” Serene imitated an obnoxious noise that sounded like a creature dying.

Khalani gasped and threw a wet, dirty rag straight at her face. Serene retaliated by grabbing the entire water bucket, but it crashed to the floor.

“What the hell is going on?!” Marissa burst through the door, her frizzy black hair tied in a tight bun on top of her head.

Marissa was a rail-thin, middle-aged woman with a face full of freckles perpetually scrunched up in a scowl. In charge of their daily cleaning sessions, Marissa seemed to harbor a deep-seated disdain for Khalani in particular.

She was confident Marissa hated her more than she hated roaches.

And that was saying something.

“Nothing, ma’am,” Khalani said, her back going rigid. “The bucket just fell.”

Serene’s shoulders shook beside her.

The girl was definitely going to get them both killed one day.

But if someone needed to be buried, Khalani would be there with a shovel.

“Since you find this so amusing,” Marissa snapped at Serene, “you can skip dinner until you finish washing these other barrels of clothes.”

“And you.” Marrisa turned her harsh gaze to Khalani. “Go collect the dirty rags from Patreus’ training group. They’re usually drenched in sweat by the end of the day, so you get the privilege of cleaning them all. Move it!”

Khalani’s fists clenched as she heaved to her feet, struggling to suppress the expletives forming in her throat.

“Just follow their rules for now,” Derek had said the previous night. “We have a better shot of escaping if they don’t suspect we’ll leave.”

Stay calm. Stay focused. Then escape.

The sun was setting as she walked outside, turning the sky into a fiery canvas of reds and oranges. She took a moment to breathe and stretched her muscles over her head, somewhat grateful for the reprieve from sitting on a hard stool all day.

The only consolation was that the manual labor in the camp was a picnic compared to the horrors she’d endured in Braderhelm.

Speaking of horrors in Braderhelm…

The symphony of loud grunts guided her to the training area.

About thirty men and women were seated in a large circle, and in the center stood Takeshi. Without a shirt on.

Takeshi’s jet-black hair, tousled and wild, cascaded over his forehead as he demonstrated a fighting maneuver.

The sight made her think of the Adonis statue she’d once seen in Genesis.

His body was a work of art, chiseled not with gentle hands or the luck of genetics, but honed by years of grueling discipline to transform the body into a weapon.

Takeshi was currently engaged in a mock fight with a young woman about Khalani’s age.

Her blonde hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and her beige top clung to her chest as Takeshi corrected her stance multiple times.

His touch was brief but precise, guiding her in the same way he’d done with Khalani in Braderhelm.

Even though his hands barely lingered on the woman’s body for more than a split second, Khalani found herself struggling to swallow past the knot in her throat.

But she shook her head, reminding herself that it didn’t matter what Takeshi did or with whom.

He’d made it perfectly clear to her that she was as appealing to him as a rock in his shoe, and what happened between them in Braderhelm was a mistake.

Any interaction on the surface, including the night she’d thrown away her inhibitions and straddled his lap, were momentary lapses of sanity prompted by the effects of heat and loneliness.

In fact, it was preferable for him to cozy up with another girl who was in the mood for heartbreak.

Khalani.

Was.

Just.

Fine.

Thank.

You.

She marched to Patreus, who incessantly scowled as he shouted at the group to pay attention to Takeshi and the girl’s maneuvers.

“Excuse me,” she started.

But Patreus kept yelling, “Be ready to pair off! Remember, we can only achieve peace by defeating the Sinners in totality.”

“Sir, I was sent—”

“Demeter! Are you too tired to pay attention?”

Huffing, Khalani touched Patreus’s arm to get his attention, but he immediately seized her wrist in a sharp grip with one hand while reaching for his pistol with the other.

She stifled a gasp from the bone-crushing pressure on her wrist, but just as quickly as he’d grabbed her, Patreus abruptly released her, as if remembering himself.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I was sent here by Marissa.” Her lips twisted in anger. “She told me to collect any dirty rags that you guys have, but if you don’t need me, I’ll gladly leave.”

Patreus narrowed his gaze sizing her up, but he eventually nodded. “You can go around and ask if anyone wants their gear washed. But hurry up.”

Without a word, she turned away, eager to put distance between herself and the strangely aggressive old man.

The air was charged with anticipation as she made her way around the tense circle of onlookers. She felt Takeshi’s intense focus briefly shift to her, a silent warning in his gaze.

Her stomach tightened into garbled knots as Takeshi picked up the pace of the fight, and the heady grunts from the girl he was fighting amplified.

She needed to leave. Quickly.

The men and women were drenched in sweat and grime and tossed their gear to her with little regard, like she was a mere servant. Khalani’s glare hardened, but she continued collecting their dirty rags.

She reached the last person, her arms full of sweat-soaked and vomit-stained shirts, when a hand slapped her backside.

“Hey, parasite, you forgot my shirt!”

A burly man with curly brown hair and a handsome face laughed along with a few men as Khalani whirled around in shock. Her cheeks flushed as the choking laughter expanded, numbing every sound.

Her eyes flared and her hands shook.

Khalani had been through too much, suffered at the hands of too many men, to let anyone touch her without consent.

The shirts tumbled from her arms into a forgotten heap.

Before the cackling guy had a chance to react, she lunged, her fist barreling into his face. The jarring impact sent him to the ground, and the crowd gasped.

Pain flared in her knuckles, but she ignored it, finding a flicker of satisfaction in his audible groan as he staggered back, clutching his nose.

His friends clamored around him. “Are you okay, Garret?”

Garret brushed them off, spinning on her.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he growled.

“Do you make a habit of assaulting every girl that walks in your vicinity?” she shot back.

“You disgusting h—” Garret stepped forward but was abruptly yanked back.

Takeshi towered behind him, gripping the back of Garret’s neck. His other friends gulped, instinctively backing away.

“What happened?” Takeshi asked through his teeth.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” the man complained. “This bitch hit me—OW. Shit!”

Still clutching his neck, Takeshi kicked him in the back of his legs, forcing him to his knees. He leaned in, digging his fingers into the tendons of Garret’s neck.

“Do you know how many bones there are in your body? Two hundred and six. Call her that name again, and I will break every single one.”

The man whimpered in response, and Takeshi’s head lifted, staring directly at her. “What did he do?”

She crossed her arms and told the truth. “He smacked my ass.”

Takeshi’s left hand balled into a tight fist, while his other—still locked around the man’s neck—tightened. His nails dug into the man’s flesh, eliciting whimpers of pain as the guy squirmed and tried to wrench himself free. But the man’s struggles only seemed to fuel Takeshi’s deadly resolve.

It felt as though the very face of death gazed back as Takeshi reached for the sharp blade hidden in his boot.

“Steele!” Patreus yelled and the crowd parted for the old man who marched into the circle. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You said you wanted me to teach. That’s what I intend to do,” his low, gravelly voice practically had its own wavelength. Takeshi leaned closer to Garret, who looked like he was about to wet himself.

“Apologize to her.”

“I’m s-s-sorry,” Garret stammered, his head hanging.

“No.” Takeshi jerked Garret’s head up, forcing him to meet Khalani’s gaze. “Look at her when you apologize.”

Garret’s lips trembled as a drop of blood fell from his nose. He choked out, “I’m sorry.”

Khalani crossed her arms, staring down at him like he was the parasite. “You better not touch any girl like that again without their permission.”

Garret nodded vigorously, sighing in relief.

But then, Takeshi hauled Garret by the collar of his shirt, dragging him to the center of the ring and tossing him to the ground like a useless rag. Garret scrambled to his feet, pure dread in his eyes as Takeshi marched toward him.

“What are you doing? She accepted my apology!”

“She did.” Takeshi wiped his lips. “But I didn’t.”

Garret’s eyes widened as Takeshi launched at him like a bullet. Khalani could barely follow the movement as Takeshi struck him in the face, chest, and ribs. Garret flailed, uselessly attempting to defend himself as Takeshi moved like a phantom.

Eventually, he curled into a ball, crying and covering his head.

But Takeshi’s wrath was far from quenched.

He moved behind Garret, circling his chest with one arm and wrenching his wrist out to the side.

The same arm Garret used to slap her.

With a savage pull, Takeshi hyperextended Garret’s arm behind his back, eliciting a scream of pure agony.

“That’s enough, Steele! You proved your point,” Patreus yelled.

Takeshi didn’t seem to hear him and kept pulling like he was about to rip his arm clean off.

The sound of a gun cocking filtered through the stiff air, and everyone froze as Patreus pointed a pistol at Takeshi. Her gun.

“STOP.”

It wasn’t Patreus that yelled.

It was her.

She didn’t know if it was her voice or the gun pointed at Takeshi’s head that stopped him, but Takeshi released Garret, who collapsed to the ground, clutching his shoulder.

Takeshi’s chest heaved with each breath, and he didn’t even flinch at the loaded gun aimed at him. His black gaze turned to Khalani, brimming with resentment and vitriol.

“I’m done for the day,” Takeshi hissed. “If you want him to stay alive,” he gestured toward Garret, still writhing on the ground, “keep him away from me.”

With that, he walked past Patreus, who clutched the gun so tight, she thought it might break.

Everyone held still, afraid to move a muscle.

But Patreus quickly regained his composure, glaring at the trainees.

“What are you all staring at? Back to work! Pair off for fighting exercises. Garret, stop crying like a little bitch.”

No one initially moved but then he yelled, “Now!”

Khalani quickly seized the moment to escape. She gathered the dirty clothes on the ground, ignoring the wayward stares, and anxiously made her way back to her cleaning duties.

Serene knew something was wrong.

After Marissa had grilled her with questions for taking so long, Serene whispered several times, asking Khalani if she was okay.

She said she was fine.

She lied.

At night, she retreated to a quiet corner of the house, clutching Ana’s journal, needing to write her scattering thoughts.

But her mind kept circling back to Takeshi.

In that final moment, Takeshi hadn’t looked at her like a protector in her story.

He stared at Khalani as if she were the villain in his.

Do you see me?

The real me?

The me no one knows?

The me hiding behind scars?

The me with a heart too big for my chest?

I think I hid for so long

Because I didn’t even want to see myself

Wearing skin that wasn’t my own

Smiling through the invisible tears

Moving when I didn’t know where to go

There was a brief moment

When you looked into me and not at me

And you poked the walls I carefully crafted

Like tiny dots in the night sky for you to explore

Because you saw the light that created me

When I only saw the darkness that forged me

I forgive who I was

And accept the person I am

But in the silence of a fading night

A truth whispers for no one but me to hear

My darkest parts miss being held

By the deadliness of you.