The Flame that Choose Us!

3.

I woke to the taste of dust in my mouth and a pounding in my skull. My leg throbbed, but the pain was secondary to the fear knotting in my chest. That scream—sharp, desperate—still echoed in my ears. I lay frozen for a heartbeat, the thin blanket tangled around me, trying to remember where I was. The last thing I recalled was Rae’s warning, then the scream slicing through the night. Now, dawn’s pale light filtered through the slats in the steel walls, and I knew I had to move.

I pushed myself up onto my elbows. My vision blurred, but I forced it into focus: the infirmary was empty. No Judge tending to other wounds, no Rae smudged with grease. Just the cold metal walls and the faint hum of activity beyond the door. I sat up, careful not to jar my leg too much, and swung my feet to the floor. The crutches leaned in the corner, silent sentinels. I hobbled to them, each step a reminder of my brokenness, but also of my resolve. If someone had screamed, I needed to find out what happened.

I cracked the door open a sliver and peered into the corridor. It was deserted, but I heard voices—low, urgent—coming from the courtyard. The air carried the smell of smoke and oil, mixed with something coppery that made my stomach twist. Blood. I gripped the crutches tighter and leaned out, ready to limp toward the source, when a hand closed around my arm.

“Leah.” Judge’s voice was soft but urgent. “Don’t go out there alone.”

I turned to face him. His eyes were dark with concern, the lines on his face deeper in the morning light. “Someone screamed,” I said, voice tight. “I have to help.”

He pressed a hand to my shoulder. “You’re hurt. You need to stay here.”

I shook my head. “You helped me. Now let me help.” My leg throbbed, but adrenaline flared, drowning out most of the pain. “Please.”

Judge stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. “All right. But you stay close to me.” He reached for my crutches and handed me one. “We move slow, understand?”

I nodded, grateful. He took the other crutch, and together we hobbled out of the infirmary into the courtyard. The bonfire pits were banked low now, embers smoldering in shallow craters. The courtyard was cluttered with bikes, crates, and a scattering of members—some bandaged, others armed. At the far end, a group had gathered in a loose circle. I squinted, trying to see who lay in the center.

Cain knelt beside someone I couldn’t yet identify, his back to me. His broad shoulders were tense, his head bowed. Ryder stood a few feet away, arms crossed, jaw tight. Other members—Rae among them—hovered at the edges, faces drawn. A hush fell as Judge and I approached, and all eyes turned to me. I felt every gaze like a spotlight.

“What happened?” I asked, voice louder than I intended.

Ryder’s gray eyes flicked to me. “Someone tried to kill her.”

My heart lurched. “Who?”

Rae’s voice was sharp. “Not sure yet. We found her bleeding by the east wall at dawn.” She motioned toward the crumpled shape in Cain’s arms. I swallowed hard and edged closer. Judge stayed at my side, hand on my shoulder.

I knelt beside Cain, my breath catching when I saw the woman’s face. It was Tessa—one of the Vipers’ newest recruits. I’d met her only once, a brief exchange over coffee and paperwork. She was pale, eyes fluttering, blood matted in her dark curls. A gash ran along her side, soaking through her leather vest.

“Tessa,” I whispered, touching her hand. She winced, and her eyes opened wider, confusion and pain swirling in them. “You’re safe now.”

Cain’s voice was low and urgent. “She’s losing too much blood. We need to move her inside.”

Ryder nodded. “Judge, get her to the infirmary. Now.”

Judge stood and motioned for me to follow. I rose on trembling legs, crutches clicking against the ground. Cain gently lifted Tessa into his arms like she weighed nothing. His face was set in grim lines, and I realized then how much I cared for these people already. They were no longer just bikers or paperwork entries—they were living, breathing souls who’d taken me in.

Inside the infirmary, Judge cleared a space on the cot and laid Tessa down. I hovered, crutch braced against the wall, as Judge and Rae stripped away her vest to examine the wound. Blood pooled on the cot, and I felt faint, but I clenched my jaw. I had a job here—to help.

“Grab me the antiseptic,” Judge ordered. I limped to the supply shelf and handed him the bottle. My hands shook as I passed it over. Rae snatched a roll of gauze and handed it to me. “Hold this,” she said, and thrust it into my hands. I pressed the pad to Tessa’s side, feeling the damp warmth seep through. She whimpered, and I murmured, “Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

Judge worked quickly—cleaning, stitching, bandaging. I watched every move, memorizing the steps. When he finished, he stepped back. “She’ll live,” he said, wiping his hands. “But she’s lucky we found her so soon.”

Rae exhaled. “Who would do this?”

I looked at Tessa’s pale face, then at the others gathering behind me. Fear and suspicion flickered in their eyes. “Could it be the rival gang?”

Cain shook his head. “They hit our walls last night, but they’d have to slip past patrols. This felt… personal.”

Ryder stepped forward, voice low and dangerous. “Find out who did this. I want names by tonight.” His gaze swept the room, landing on me. “Leah.”

My heart skipped. “Me?”

He nodded. “You know paperwork. I want you to dig through visitor logs, supply manifests, anything that points to who had access to the east wall last night.”

I swallowed. “Yes, sir.” My pulse hammered in my ears. I hadn’t expected him to task me with an investigation so soon, but I also knew it was a test. A chance to prove I belonged here.

Ryder turned and stalked out. Cain followed, then Judge and Rae. I was left alone with Tessa’s steady breathing and the lingering scent of blood. I sank onto a chair, crutches leaning against the wall, and tried to steady my thoughts.

The office was a better place to work. I gathered Tessa’s visitor log, which listed every name who’d checked in at the compound in the last twenty-four hours. There were scores of entries—mechanics, cooks, patrols—but one name made my heart stall: Marcus Vale, a man I’d seen at the meeting, introduced as a courier for the rail line. He’d come in late, spent only a few minutes with Tessa, then slipped away.

I tapped the table. Marcus. The more I thought about it, the more uneasy I felt. I flipped through the supply manifest. Marcus’s name was scrawled next to a delivery of spare parts—but the time didn’t match when Tessa had gone out. She’d gone alone, he said. But she was in the east patrol shift last night. Why would he deliver parts at that hour? Something didn’t add up.

I printed out the relevant pages and tucked them into the folder Ryder had given me. I’d need to talk to Judge—he had the security logs, the patrol schedules. I’d need to cross‑reference every entry, find who had opportunity and motive. My head spun with possibilities. Was Marcus working for the rival gang? Or was someone inside the Vipers using him as a pawn?

I heard footsteps and looked up. Rae stood in the doorway, arms crossed. “You look like hell,” she said.

I managed a weak smile. “I’m fine. I’m working.”

She stepped inside and sat on the edge of the desk. “Ryder’s furious. Cain’s ready to tear the east wall down brick by brick. Judge is trying to calm him.”

I frowned. “We need facts, not fury.”

Rae nodded. “That’s why you’re on this. Find out who did it. Then Ryder can decide what to do.”

I closed my eyes for a moment. “I’ll need the security logs, and maybe someone to help me sort them.”

She stood and held out a hand. “I’ll help. Let’s go.”

Together, we limped down the hall to the main office. Inside, Judge and Cain were huddled over a computer. The screen glowed with a grid of timestamps and patrol routes. Cain looked up when we entered, eyes red‑rimmed.

“Leah,” Judge said. “We’ve got the logs.”

I moved to the keyboard and opened the file. Each line showed the patrol number, time, and section of the wall. The east wall patrols were assigned in two‑hour shifts. Tessa was supposed to be on from midnight to 2 a.m., but she never checked in after her break at 1:15. Marcus’s delivery was logged at 1:20, five minutes after she returned.

I pointed at the screen. “He was here then.” My voice trembled. “He could have followed her when she went out to check the fence.”

Cain’s jaw clenched. “He’s the only non‑member with that kind of access.”

Judge frowned. “He’s due back tonight. He made another delivery.”

I nodded. “We need to stop him before he can slip away again.”

Ryder’s voice cut through the room: “We’re moving.” He strode in, leather vest unzipped, eyes blazing. “Cain, you and Judge take a team to intercept Marcus at the rail line. Leah, you come with me.”

My heart leaped. “Me?”

Ryder’s gaze locked onto mine. “You know his schedule. You’re coming. Stay close.”

I swallowed and grabbed my crutches. “Yes.”

He turned and left, Cain and Judge trailing. I followed, crutch tapping against the concrete floor. Rae fell in beside me.

“You ready?” she asked quietly.

I exhaled. “As I’ll ever be.”

---

We piled into a battered truck—Ryder driving, me wedged between him and Rae in the front seat. The engine rumbled as we bounced down the dirt road toward the old rail yard where Marcus was due. Night was falling, and the sky was a bruise of purples and grays. My leg ached with every jolt, but I forced myself to focus on the road ahead.

“Why do you think he did it?” I asked in a low voice.

Rae shrugged. “Money, threats, revenge—take your pick. People do crazy things when they’re scared.”

Ryder glanced at me, eyes unreadable. “Stay quiet until we have him.”

I nodded, heart pounding. We turned onto the rail yard tracks, the truck’s headlights slicing through the gloom. Rows of rusted cars loomed like silent sentinels. We came to a stop beside a boxcar, its door half‑open. A single lantern hung inside, casting a weak glow.

Cain and Judge fanned out, guns drawn. I clutched my crutches, every nerve on edge. Rae stayed close, hand on her wrench. Ryder moved forward, silent as a shadow. I followed, breath catching as we reached the boxcar.

Ryder stepped inside first. I peered over his shoulder and saw Marcus—hands up, face pale, sweat on his brow. A crate of parts lay at his feet. He swallowed hard.

“Marcus Vale,” Ryder said, voice cold. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Marcus’s eyes flicked to me. “Please—she doesn’t know anything.”

Ryder’s gaze snapped to me. “Leah.”

I swallowed and held up the folder. “Your delivery logs place you at the east wall at 1:20 a.m. That’s when Tessa was attacked.”

Marcus shook his head. “I didn’t—”

A shot rang out. The lantern shattered, plunging us into darkness. My heart slammed against my ribs. I stumbled back, crutch clattering to the ground.

“Inside!” Ryder barked. “Take cover!”

I hit the ground, heart racing, as bullets thudded into metal. Rae dove beside me, wrench raised. Cain and Judge returned fire into the night. The world spun in chaos—shouts, gunfire, the stench of gunpowder.

I scrambled to my feet, mind racing. Marcus lay frozen, eyes wide. The boxcar door slammed shut behind me. I looked at Ryder, his face half‑lit by the flicker of sparks. His jaw was set, eyes fierce.

And then I saw him: a figure stepping from the shadows, gun aimed straight at Ryder’s back.

“Stop right there!” the stranger snarled.

My blood ran cold. I tried to scream a warning, but the world tilted, and I blacked out again.