Dark Vengeance

Chapter 3

Three

An ache had settled into Jackson’s jaw by the time he’d finalised the repairs to the gate. He’d had to stop himself from scanning the street every five minutes, waiting for Dillon’s next move. With no time to waste, he and his crew moved on to the next task on their list, though he left a squad of wardens to watch the street in case of trouble.

That trouble came an hour later, not from outside headquarters, but from the warden assigned to the Communications Room.

‘Captain Kyle,’ the young warden said, a sling on his left arm, ‘we had an incoming request for a video conference call from High Command. General Nigel Butcher wishes to speak with you in five minutes.’

Jackson followed the warden back to the Communications Room, where he input the code to allow access to the room set aside for confidential communications. The general was already seated in the corresponding room at High Command, glaring at him through the black-and-white screen.

‘What the freaking hell is going on with you, Kyle? I’ve got some arsehole councillor stirring up trouble here, and with the Over-Council, claiming you and your wardens have broken the charter. He’s calling for all of your heads.’

It was a deliberate effort for Jackson to not tense up or clench his hands into fists, conscious of the general’s hard eyes on him. ‘It was all in my report, sir. We had to bend the charter in order to save the human citizens, but we did not break it.’ He’d had to be circumspect in his report, to protect Justice, but what he had revealed should have been more than enough for the general to understand the situation.

Butcher’s eyes narrowed. ‘You really expect me to believe every one of them was turned into a freak and some little half-breed b***h cured them?’

Jackson’s nostrils flared at the insult to Hannah, but he managed to keep his voice even as he said, ‘Yes, sir. The cure is real, as was the threat posed to the citizens of Brimfield.’

Butcher rubbed his chin. ‘A claim like that has to be verified before it is made public knowledge. The wardens I am sending to relieve you will ascertain the truth of the matter. As will the investigation into the complaint raised by this councillor. Once Captain Landry takes command of the Brimfield Ward, she will see to it that you are treated fairly until all investigations are completed.’

‘Sir, while I understand the need to investigate the veracity of my report, it is not necessary to send Captain Landry. Geoff Anderson is more than capable of taking on the role of captain.’

Butcher dropped his hand and fixed his eyes on Jackson. ‘At this time, your request for Lieutenant Anderson’s promotion to captain has been denied. There has been enough upheaval in your Ward without adding an untried captain to the mix. Once we get this mess cleared up, you are welcome to resubmit your request.’

Jackson bit back a curse, not looking forward to having to tell Geoff another captain was going to take over his Ward. ‘What about the other promotions I submitted?’ He’d performed field promotions on a number of his wardens during the battle with Callaghan, and in the aftermath, to ensure the chain of command ran smoothly.

‘Those have been allowed to stand, for now. Captain Landry has orders to interview all Brimfield wardens to determine their performance status once she arrives. Until then, you and your wardens are ordered to remain within headquarters. Do I make myself clear, Kyle? You are not to leave Brimfield under any circumstances until such time as the investigation into this so-called cure is complete, and you have been cleared of breaking the charter.’

Jackson stiffened. ‘I understand, sir.’

Though the thought of being confined to headquarters chafed, he hadn’t planned on taking the cure to Harlington until after the repairs were completed. Landry should arrive before then and hopefully the investigation and performance review would be completed quickly.

His optimism took a blow when he emerged from the Communications Room to be told a mob of humans had begun to gather in the street outside the newly repaired front gates.

Heart thudding as he scaled the ladder, the sounds rising on the other side of the wall had him gritting his teeth. He reached the top, the wardens on guard duty moving aside to give him an uninterrupted view of the seething mass. Shouts filled the air as a lone human paced in the space between the gates and the mob. Jackson couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the angry mutter rising in the wake of his words suggested it wasn’t in the Ward’s favour.

‘Bunch of ungrateful bastards,’ Hanson said when he climbed onto the walkway, a bitter twist to his mouth. ‘We should have let them all rot.’

‘They’re scared. Angry. Looking for someone to blame. Seeing as the surviving members of Callaghan’s group fled town, we’re the only ones left to point the finger at.’

While he could understand their confusion, Jackson was just as bitter at the way those the Ward were charged to protect had turned on them. It seemed they’d clutched at Dillon’s lies about it all being a Ward trick like a lifeline, not wanting to face the darkness they now knew resided within the souls of every one of them.

‘If they want someone to blame, they should be looking to the members of their own council,’ Hanson said. ‘It was Dillon and his freaking son who let Callaghan get his hooks into this town in the first place. It’s not our fault they got turned into freaks. We saved them.’ He shrugged, his face losing some of its hostility. ‘Well, most of them.’

A large contingent of the Brimfield council’s security forces moved amongst the angry mob, the red stripes on their dark grey uniforms clearly visible. From this height it was impossible to tell if they were there to settle the situation down or stir it up. Knowing Councillor Dillon, the latter was more likely. A shiver swept over Jackson, aware this was just the beginning. Dillon would not stop until he had made the Ward pay for his own sins.

He turned away from the unsettling sight of the angry mob and scanned the activity on the parade ground in front of the main building. Wardens and half-breeds worked side by side to repair the damage caused in the three attacks instigated by Callaghan. A short time ago, the presence of half-breeds in the Ward would have provoked anger and division, the long-held prejudice between the two groups fostering an air of hate any time they were forced into proximity.

Now, having fought and bled together, wardens and half-breeds had thrown off the old prejudice and managed to accomplish an extraordinary number of repairs in two days. Each one of the people Jackson claimed as part of his Ward had been determined to scour away the visible signs of battles that had seen many of their comrades fall.

All for nothing.

There would be no peace for any of his people if they remained in Brimfield. Councillor Dillon would see to that. General Butcher had ordered them to remain at headquarters until their relief arrived, but to do so would be suicide. He returned to the Communications Room.

‘Put me through to High Command,’ he said to the radio operator. ‘I need to speak to General Butcher urgently.’

The operator turned to his console, only to shake his head a moment later. ‘I’m sorry, Captain, I can’t raise them.’

‘Keep trying,’ Jackson said as he headed out the door, aware he couldn’t afford to hold off until the sporadic communication network was working to put his plan into action. Even if that meant disobeying a direct order.

The mob at the gates was not going to go away. The situation would inevitably worsen, anger spilling over into action, and Jackson knew they didn’t have time to wait for the wardens General Butcher was sending to relieve them, or to get permission for the order he was about to give.

But what of those they would leave behind?

He looked left, to where neat rows of fresh graves lined the ground near the main building. Simple white crosses proclaimed the dead as warriors, warden and half-breed alike, who had fallen while protecting the citizens of Brimfield.

Would any of the misguided humans currently massing outside the gate care that the dead wardens and half-breeds had given their lives for them? Would any of them harbour enough guilt for their part in this travesty to tend the graves once the Ward was no more?

Jackson pushed these thoughts aside as he made his way to the nearest ladder, calling out for Hanson to follow him. His focus had to be on the living.

The moment his feet touched the ground, he scanned the parade ground for Geoff’s familiar wide bulk. He was sure to be in the thick of the repairs, using his prodigious strength to work alongside the wardens under his command.

His gaze fell on Justice, deep in conversation with Hannah, both with their backs to him. Justice immediately spun to face him and waved him over. The bond between them, forged when he’d been compelled to take on the role of her bodyguard, allowed them both to sense when the other was near. He was no longer able to feel her emotions, but didn’t need that to know she was exhausted. She’d been working just as hard as the rest of them, refusing to accept the limitations set by her human body, despite his assertion she didn’t need to prove herself to any of them.

‘Hannah has completed another batch of vaccine,’ Justice said the moment he and Hanson were in earshot, a tired smile lighting up her beautiful brown eyes. ‘Another couple of weeks and we’ll have more than enough to vaccinate everyone in Harlington, as well as cure one thousand freaks.’ She waved a hand at the ongoing repairs. ‘This should all be done by then, so we won’t be leaving Geoff shorthanded when we take some of his wardens with us.’

Jackson did his best to keep his voice and expression neutral, conscious of the many ears listening in. ‘Where is Geoff? I need to talk to him.’

Colour draining from her face, Justice stepped closer, her gaze searching his as she asked in a low voice, ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

‘I’ll tell you what’s wrong,’ Hanson said. ‘That i***t councillor has got the whole town worked up. I’m surprised you can’t hear them. They’re at the front gates right now, practically calling for our heads.’

Down here, surrounded by people sawing and hammering, the sound of the mob was muted to a murmur. Justice’s brow creased as she looked toward the main gate. Her hand reached out for Jackson and he took it, pulling her close.

‘I think Geoff is in the truck depot,’ Hannah said, face as pale as Justice’s. ‘Least, that’s where he was half an hour ago when I let him know the next batch of vaccine was ready. I’ll need you to come to the infirmary so I can take more blood before I can get the next batch going.’

Jackson managed a smile for the young woman who had created the cure that had eluded human and Ward scientists for generations. ‘Sorry, Hannah, but that’s going to have to wait until we get to Harlington. We’re leaving Brimfield tomorrow. I want you to pack up everything you need to make your vaccine and get it loaded on the trucks as soon as possible.’

Justice’s hand tightened around his. ‘If we leave tomorrow, it will take twice as long for Geoff and the others to finish the repairs to the Ward, and we won’t have enough to vaccinate all the citizens of Harlington.’

No longer trying to hide his unease, Jackson said, ‘We won’t be finishing the repairs. It’s time to evacuate.’