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The Last Narkoy: Gathow: Book 2 Page 6


  “Sortec!” Zion called softly. “Damn it. There goes that half-cocked sanity again.”

  “Does she want to commit suicide?” Rosanheer asked as he readied his weapon.

  Patto stumbled to the ground, falling flat onto his stomach. A loud yelp echoed through the forest followed by his gentle sobs. He grabbed a handful of earth and began dragging himself.

  Sedom dropped on the other side of the road, behind a tall grouping of bushes. She watched as the Mandicien man struggled to get away. Did she risk helping him or take her new friends’ advice? In the distance, she could hear the boots of several men heading in their direction. She started to rush out to save Patto, but Zion held Sedom back.

  “Plan ahead. See how many guards are around him first,” he whispered. He raised his weapon and crouched beside her. Over her shoulder, she could see the other two men doing the same in the adjoining bushes.

  For what felt like hours, but knew it was only minutes, the group watched Patto, watched the city and the forest path for signs that guards were going to fetch him. The guards grew closer to their location and then suddenly stopped. Gradually, they started walking back to the compound.

  “What the…” Rosanheer gasped. “That’s not normal.“

  Frustrated, Sedom left the group and cautiously crawled over to Patto. She knelt to him, feeling the back of his neck.

  “He’s dying. We have to take him to Gathow,” she stated.

  Rosanheer shook his head, frustrated she was willing to risk everything for a man whom she barely acknowledged knowing. “You're doing what they want you to do,” he mentioned. He pointed to a small pill-like pod under the skin above his left breast. She felt to the pod only to have Rosanheer pull her hand back. “Don't. It might be a tracking device or it could be an explosive.”

  “What do you suggest?” Sedom asked.

  “We leave him. It's not worth the risk,” Rosanheer advised.

  Zion rolled his head back to look the other direction. “Bad answer,” he said under his breath.

  Sedom grabbed her short-blade, slicing into Patto's chest. Patto opened his eyes, looking up at Sedom. He screamed out, his eyes bulging. “No!” He cried, trying to fight Sedom away.

  Qilo held his shoulders down. “Hurry up, Sortec!”

  “Hold him down!” Sedom demanded, finding it difficult to remove the pod. The more she attempted to reach the pod, the more Patto screamed. She scooped the pod out from under his skin, handing it to Zion. He quickly tossed it into the forest.

  The pod flew into the bushes, exploding, sending everyone in their group to their stomachs. Sedom turned to look at the bushes, still lying on her stomach.

  “Guess we have our answer,” she said. She turned to Patto who was unconscious. “We need to get him to Doctor Noral,” she stated. She did not need to scan him to know he was in great need of medical attention. “Rosanheer and Zion, stay behind and watch the city. Qilo, you're with me,” she decided.

  “Why me?” Qilo asked amused why she would choose him and not Zion.

  “Do you have a problem with my decision?” Sedom questioned sternly. Qilo shook his head. “Good. Bring him. We'll be back by sunup.”

  The sun was setting over the distant mountains when Qilo felt Patto begin to stir over his shoulder. He carefully released Patto to the ground, forcing Sedom to stop. “He's awake. I think you should handle the introductions.”

  Sedom knelt to Patto, resting her hand on his neck. “Patto, wake.” She tapped his cheek softly as his eyes fluttered open. “Remember me? Sedom, I’m Iya's friend,” she whispered.

  Patto looked up at Sedom through eyes so swollen she couldn’t tell their natural color. “Yes, you're the reason for my misery,” he growled, feeling to his chest. “All they wanted was you, but I didn't know where you were so I suffered! I'll never forgive her for doing this to us. I hope she’s dead!”

  His words shot through Sedom like daggers. “Iya is dead,” Sedom growled. “She suffered greatly for helping me,” she added.

  “Good.” He gasped, attempting to stand, but lacked the strength. “My wife?”

  “We're looking for her. We think she was transported to Vinic along with you. I have men watching the compound for an opportunity to—“

  “Sortec,” Qilo warned. She glanced up at him, seeing Qilo shaking his head as if to tell her not to tell Patto anything.

  “After we drop you off in Gathow, we'll go back for her,” she explained.

  Patto squeezed the muscle of his left breast. “You… you can't take me to Gathow.”

  “Why?” Qilo asked.

  “As much as I dislike the Narkoy, I know if the Marisheio find Gathow, everyone that I care about will die.” He took Sedom's hand, placing it on his chest. “Like me. I just haven't registered it yet. Sedom, there's a tracking pod in my heart. They're hoping you’ll take me to Gathow. Once inside Gathow, they'll detonate an explosive, killing me and triggering the homing beacon. Within moments of the detonation, they'll know exactly where you are.”

  “How do we stop this?” Sedom asked concerned.

  Patto's face paled to a lighter shade of white. “Promise me, find my wife and take care of her. She has a kind heart. She shouldn't be punished for caring,” he begged, looking directly into Sedom's eyes. Sedom nodded as Patto's eyes closed. With a burst of energy, he stood and ran headlong into a tree, smashing his chest against the hard lumber.

  “Patto!” Sedom cried out, rushing over to the man as he fell to the ground.

  By the time Qilo and Sedom reached Patto, he was on the ground, foam leaking from his lips. His body convulsed and then slowly quieted. He fell limp into Sedom's arms. She felt to his neck, but only a dim life-source remained until nothing.

  “He's dead,” Sedom told Qilo, her face not showing a hint of emotion. “We should bury him and return to the others.”

  It was night by the time Qilo and Sedom finished burying Patto in the forest. Sedom whispered a prayer spoken by her people over the graves of their dead. It was a well-wishing of happiness in the afterlife, but somehow Sedom felt that was a waste. Patto, nor any of her people, would find any happiness until the Marisheio were destroyed.

  Qilo walked in silence next to Sedom on the journey back to the others. He finally interrupted the silence with, “You want to talk about it?”

  Sedom shook her head solemnly. “Do you talk about your emotions?”

  “No.”

  “You have your answer,” Sedom replied cryptically. “It’s kind of you to offer.”

  Qilo didn't say another word the entire walk back. If Sedom didn’t want to talk, it was all the better for him. He didn’t know what to say anyway. What could one say to a girl like Sedom to help her feel better?

  Both Rosanheer and Zion were sitting on a fallen tree, eating late meal when they returned. Rosanheer rose, aiming his pistol towards them.

  “It's us,” Qilo called. Rosanheer lowered his pistol.

  “That was fast,” Zion said, not concerned by the sudden return of his comrades.

  Sedom took a seat near Zion. “Patto killed himself. He threw himself against a tree to activate an explosive pod in his chest.”

  Rosanheer and Qilo settled back on the log. “Sorry to hear,” Rosanheer said. “The city is practically empty right now. If you want to go in and retrieve your friend, now would be a good time.”

  This time Sedom was the skeptic. “Why would they...” She paused, watching the gates. “Let's go. I want this over with.” She stood, removing two pistols from her hip holsters. Without thought, she started towards the compound.

  “Sortec!” Zion called out, grabbing his own weapon. “Here we go again. Damn half-cocked sanity. Stay close,” he ordered, waving his two associates to follow.

  They met up with Sedom behind a tree, only footsteps away from the main gate. She pointed up to the guard tower where two guards stood watching the front gate. Thankfully, the guards hadn’t seen them yet.

  “I’ll handle it,” Ros
anheer offered. Sedom agreed.

  The three watched as Rosanheer dashed between the circling spotlights of the guard tower, working his way to the base of the tower. In absolute amazement, Sedom watched as Rosanheer shimmied up the braces of the tower. Once he reached the top, he crashed through one of the side windows, taking the guards within by surprise.

  Flashes of pistol fire sent Sedom racing to the tower. Zion chased after her, tackling her to the ground just as pistol fire stapled the ground near her. He grabbed her, forcing her against the compound’s fence. She started to scream out, only to find Zion’s hand over her mouth.

  Moments later the firing stopped. Cautiously, Zion poked his head out to see what happened while Sedom forced his hand away.

  “What the hell, Zion!” she barked low.

  “You hired me to protect you. Let me do my job!” he barked.

  Qilo waved from the tree outside the compound for them to follow him in. As the three approached, the gate unlocked. From above, Rosanheer waved to them from the guard tower.

  “I’m impressed,” Sedom whispered to Zion.

  “These men know what they’re doing. Remember that,” Zion warned.

  Sedom glared at Zion. “We’ll talk later.”

  Qilo motioned with a head jerk to follow him towards the main door. Two steps into their journey; they were met by weapons’ fire. Sedom spun in the direction of the fire and returned fire. “Keep going!” she ordered, holding back the assault.

  Zion and Qilo continued to the door. Inside, six guards were waiting with weapons aimed at them. Both men slowly raised their hands.

  Outside, Sedom pressed her ear against the door, listening to the commotion within. “Damn!” she cursed to herself.

  Rosanheer jumped in by her side, his weapon ready to fire. She glanced over at him, amused to see he had switched his uniform with that of one of the guards. “Smart thinking,” she complimented within a whisper. He grinned. “Qilo and Zion have been captured,” she whispered.

  “I’ll handle it,” he returned. He forced Sedom behind him. “Stay here until I tell you it’s clear,” he ordered. Usually, she would have protested, but she had an idea of what he was planning.

  He entered through the door, acting as if he belonged. Once again, Sedom pressed her ear against the door, listening. Voices inside started pleasant, slowly growing enraged. Moments later the windows to either side of the door shattered outwards.

  Zion opened the door, waving Sedom inside. His uniform was covered in a thick, black ash. Inside, there was a long hall filled with sixteen guards, all dead. Rosanheer sat crumbled to the ground, holding his stomach. Qilo stood above him, ready to defend his friend.

  Sedom raced over to Rosanheer, kneeling down next to him. “What happened?”

  “Damn fool got himself shot,” Qilo barked.

  Rosanheer waved them back. “I’ll survive.” He took hold of Qilo’s hand as his friend helped him to rise from the floor. Instantly, he leaned over in pain. “Or not.”

  “Let me see,” Sedom insisted, forcing Rosanheer’s hand away from his wound. The wound was deep enough to cause concern. Carefully, she pressed her hand over his wound.

  Rosanheer cried out. “Enough!” he wailed.

  “Just another… moment,” she said seething as the power in her hands knitted the fabric of his flesh back together. She released her hand, revealing that she had stopped the bleeding. “You’ll be okay until we can get you back to Gathow,” she returned, slightly woozy.

  Rosanheer gazed down at his wound in utter amazement. “How’d you do that?” he asked Sedom. She stumbled over to Zion, holding onto his shoulder for a moment. Rosanheer turned to Qilo, pointing to Sedom. “How’d she do that?” he asked. Qilo shrugged.

  “Sortec, come on,” Zion grumbled, wrapping his arm around her while she regained her strength. “I wish you wouldn’t do that in the field,” he mentioned low.

  “I… didn’t have a choice,” she squeaked back.

  Rosanheer nodded his thanks to Zion for helping Sedom. “Let’s get your woman,” he said.

  Sedom took a step, confident that she had enough strength, but ended up landing in Zion’s arms. “What did you do without me?” he whispered harshly.

  “I’m not sure,” she joked back. “I hope I never have to find out,” she added as a compliment.

  FIVE

  Rosanheer continued ahead, followed by Qilo while Zion remained behind to guard Sedom. They turned the corner, finding a long hallway filled with heavy steel doors. A small open window stood at the top of each of the doors so those on the outside could see within.

  The two men looked into each window as they rushed down the hall. Rosanheer suddenly paused at one door, not bothering to look within. He waved the group to his location.

  “She's in here.” He pointed inside a small room. He held Sedom back with an outstretched hand as they approached. “Be prepared. She wasn't treated kindly.”

  Sedom slapped his hand away. “Don't patronize me. I can handle it.” She paused for a moment, blinking her uncertainty. How was it that he knew what room Ratisha was in or her physical state? He hadn’t looked inside the room yet.

  “We know you can handle a lot of things, but this is your friend and she's here because of you. Don't do anything stupid,” Zion muttered low.

  Sedom continued to blink her concern. What wasn’t Zion telling her about Rosanheer? She shook her concern aside and looked inside the room.

  A light lime-skinned Marisheio woman sat within the room, her hands tied around the back of a chair. Her legs were also tied to the back legs of the chair. Beneath her bottom there was no seat, only an empty space where her urine and feces gathered. Her head was down and covered by her long black hair, much of which was missing in gaps.

  Zion's face contorted as he glared at Sedom. “I thought you were joking about her being a Marisheio? Don't we have enough of those running around Gathow?”

  “Watch it, Zalmin,” Rosanheer grumbled back.

  “Not all Cloves are Marisheio,” Sedom scolded Zion.

  “Chadon, we have a problem.” Qilo interrupted. He pointed to Ratisha. “I've seen this kind of torture before. They break her legs and then force her to sit like that until they've healed. She'll be no good to walk out of here on her own.”

  “One of us will need to carry her,” Sedom spoke back looking at each man for a volunteer.

  Rosanheer raised his hand. “No problem, Chadon.”

  “You’re injured. There’s no way,” Sedom returned.

  Zion hesitantly raised his hand. “I’ll take her,” he offered. Sedom agreed.

  “I foresee another problem. We don't know how much she's been compromised. I suggest you allow me to talk to her, see what she knows about you,” Rosanheer offered.

  Sedom's eyes glistened as they focused on Rosanheer. “Why? Whatever she's told them hasn’t helped them to find me.”

  “Patto,” Qilo pointed out.

  Sedom nodded. She didn’t want to think that they would use Ratisha to get to her, especially in as bad of condition as she was in. “If you insist, be kind,” she ordered.

  He agreed with a nod. “If I keep her thinking she's a prisoner, she'll be more complacent and it will help buy us some time to get out of here. I'll leave the rest to you once we're clear of the compound.”

  Zion grimaced as they watched Rosanheer enter the room. “You do realize he used to be an interrogator for the Marisheio?” Zion mentioned, his eyes closed as if he could already see what was about to happen… and it frightened him.

  Sedom nodded. “He's under my pay,” she mentioned, hoping that because she was paying him that it mattered.

  Inside the room, Rosanheer circled Ratisha, examining her as she sat crumpled in her seat. She exhaled a shuddering breath as he approached her. Sweat beaded on her brow as her entire body shook. He rested his hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump.

  “You must have been beautiful before this,” he whispered. “Why wo
uld you allow yourself to be placed in such a compromising position, sister?” he asked.

  “You do… what you… have to,” she exhaled in a shuddering voice. “You're new. What's the occasion? Is it my birthday already?” she hissed behind missing teeth.

  “They want answers,” he leaned in on her, looking her in the eyes. “I get answers,” he said low, but sternly.

  “Doubtful,” she gulped. “I have none to give. There is very little… I know and,” she gulped hard, blood trickling down her chin, “I’ve told your people everything… I know.”

  “Enlighten me about what you do know… the Narkoy child?” he mentioned.

  Ratisha meekly rolled her head on her shoulders. “She was a child. I treated her for a fever when her guardian brought her to us. I didn't know anything beyond that,” she spoke softly back.

  Rosanheer grabbed her by the throat, forcing her back against her seat. Ratisha screamed out from the pain in her legs. “The truth, faas!” he yelled.

  “She was a sick child… that’s all I knew!” she screamed back. “Guardian… said they needed… transport to Ryion Sital.” She began coughing violently. “I gave them… a ride. That's all,” she wept. Rosanheer slowly released her throat so she could breathe. “That's all. Her name was kept secret… I didn't know,” she whispered. Sedom glanced over at Zion, curious of his reaction.

  He toyed with his pistol for a moment and then turned to Sedom when he realized she was watching him. “She keeps the truth hidden well, but it's obvious to me she's lying. About what, I guess you're the only one who knows,” Zion mentioned to Sedom.

  Sedom jiggled her foot nervously as she thought back to the night she came to stay with Ratisha and Patto. “She knew who and what I was. Iya accidently let my name slip, but she never turned her back on me,” Sedom spoke low.

  Rosanheer turned to the door, staring directly at Sedom as if he heard her. She continued to watch him, curious if he had heard her. It was then she noticed his hands. Clove fingers were typically quite pudgy. Rosanheer’s fingers were long and thin like a Zalmins’. She picked up Zion’s left hand, examining it. Sure enough, they were the same.