Welcome back for another chapter of New Middleport: The Senses of Weiland Kershaw. The first two chapters have been posted in my earlier blogs. Here is chapter three for your enjoyment.
Chapter 3 (Demonstration
of Loyalty)
I met Cole in the streets of Lockport on my way to a display in our
district. Cole was outnumbered four to
one in an alley behind the death stage.
He was shielding Cassidy, trying to protect her long enough to let her
escape or until he was dead. These
brutes were trying to take advantage of the crowd’s noise to take Cass and do
all the things a brother knows he can’t allow.
They didn’t have any weapons, which stayed Cole’s ability to fend them
off. She turned her head looking behind
them with desperation in her eyes with what seemed like furious hope; hope to
either see someone help him fend off this rat pack or die just as quickly to
avoid the onslaught of offenses these men had in mind. I’d never seen such determination
before. It was when Cole shouted, “RUN!”
that her eyes met mine as I continued walking in their direction.
I don’t know if it was instinct, morality, or those eyes that led me
to his side that day, but there was no hesitation once the decision was
made. I held the heel of my knife so the
blade hides underneath my jacket. The
first two don’t recognize that their throats are open until I’ve stepped back
from their initial rush attack to see the blood coming from my sleeve. The coughing and gasping cause enough
confusion to incapacitate the other two before Cole can even understand that
it’s over. Cassidy was holding onto Cole
as if his life depended on it. It was
this moment that made me realize how lonely my life had become, although I
couldn’t understand if it was the thought of family or Cassidy that drew out
this desire for another person’s touch.
***
“Do you remember where you should go when you’re in absolute danger?”
“Yes dad.”
“Good. You’re only to go there
when you are being hunted relentlessly or are severely injured. This person is close to me, so you know you
can trust her. She knows who you are and
will help you without question when you knock on her door.”
I didn’t always understand everything my father told me. “If you’re so close, why can’t I meet her
now?”
My dad smiles because he always welcomes my questions and never makes
me feel ashamed for asking anything. It
prepared me for the world.
“She is in hiding and can’t risk being seen unless it is absolutely
necessary. And you are the only one
she’ll risk that for, so do you understand how important that makes you to her
to risk so much?”
“So, she cares for me like you do?”
“Very good son. Now you
understand the importance of depending on yourself more than anyone else. It will be your judgment that protects you
more than anything, which will keep her safe until you have no other choice but
to seek her out.”
***
“This definitely doesn’t seem like a rosy situation.”
“Sure it does Cole, just wait until they flower the tombs of these
two.” And there it is, the reason I
trust Jayden more than anyone else. I
can’t help but give a quick smirk, which never goes well with Cole. “Okay, the situations are never rosy,” as Jay
tries to make sure Cole doesn’t go into overload thinking of himself being up
there with Cassidy.
“The guy looks familiar, but I’ve never seen the girl,” I admit.
“That’s the Lawson kid. I work
with him up in the mines. He started a
couple of years after me, but he’s probably put in more hours than anyone has.”
The conversation stops with the rest of the crowd as another whip lash
comes down on his back, but that’s not what the mob goes quiet over. Inna walks over with a pair of scissors to
the device holding this poor soul upright.
All of his extremities are stretched out. His arms are being held up by his fingers, as
each finger is twined around the tips and wrapped around the hanging bar. The hanging bar, another thing I’ve never
seen used until today. Hangings are too
quick to try and pry loose any tongues of the mob.
None of us have to ask why that girl is up there being made to witness
this horrific scene, because we don’t know, and it is normally the girl that
would be on display. All of us look at
each other knowing the question that we all dare not ask aloud, “Has the
rebellion done something to invoke this change in tactics?”
Up to this point, the young man has displayed great strength by not
crying or screaming or pleading for his life to end. His resolve seems to come by keeping his eyes
fixed on the young girl. This doesn’t
make sense, why torture him when the girl will more than likely get a response
from the crowd? The awful sound of bone
being cut brings about some noises of those in the crowd losing their boiled
turnips they had for breakfast all over the street.
It’s only when two fingers remain to hold up his right arm that he
finally turns his face away from the girl.
Even though he doesn’t make a sound, I can only guess that he doesn’t
want her to see the tears that have boiled over from the pain. This small action seems to break what’s left
of the little girl’s heart.
“STOP!” shouts the courageous girl.
© 2011 S. T. Lakata
Stay tuned for another free preview later this week. My book is currently available on the Kindle and Nook.
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