Chapter 5
March 04, 0350 ATG (After The Gate)
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-Secrets come in all forms We keep them because we must. Others sell those secrets for favor or gain. Throughout human history, Secrets have held whole societies together and protected them. Secrets have a bad side to them as well. They are called malicious secrets. These are when conspiracies are born and set the foundation for societal degradation. At what point Is knowing too late?
– Author Garret Shorts. “Societal Destruction”
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Jonas and Little Shit made their way toward home. Jonas was tired, and a little bothered by the carnage. Neither him or the wolf pup picked up on any unwanted followers, but the wolf was still a pup and unreliable in that department and would still require training. These thoughts as well as others lingered within Jonas’ mind, just tumbling about. Some questions like, “Who was this mysterious sort-of savior was.?”, and, “How long had they been trailing him?” In either case, it didn’t matter now. He was nearly there. His feet hurt, and he was tired. Hell, even the little shit trailing behind him was starting to whimper.
Jonas wanted to just grit his teeth push through, but that meant running them both ragged. Jonas picked shit up. “I agree. We need a breather.” Jonas looked down at the pup, and saw the little shit just lounging in his arms. Jonas was about to complain, but let it go when he saw how content shit was. It brought a small smile to Jonas’ face. Scratching behind the pup’s ear, Jonas trooped on to find a good resting spot which was difficult, because there were no tree stumps of down trees to sit on.
In the end Jonas settled on an area with shorter patches of grass. He set to work flattening the flora in a small area. When Jonas felt happy with his work, he sat down on his bag and set the puppy in his lap. The instant relief was addictive. It was almost enough to tempt Jonas into taking a much longer rest, and he probably should. Jonas could easily Imagine how his companion was feeling. The puppy really was a trooper. Jonas snaked his hand into his bag with dexterous ease and pulled out his journal.
He flipped it open to the map and looked at the sky to locate the sun. Correlating that as the west, well, because it was evening according to his watch, Jonas quickly divined the correct direction to apply to his not-so-elegantly drawn compass rose. “Now where are we and how much longer?” Jonas murmured. He easily found where he had started and traced his rout thus far through wolf country. Jonas then traced his finger to the ruins that served as the drop off point. Now, that was a journey. It amazed Jonas that he even survived it in the first place, considering his vow to never travel through it again after making the brilliant decision to cut through it the first time, and remembering how much of a nightmare it had been then. Even if this time was beyond his control.
Jonas felt the little shit readjust itself for comfort and Jonas had to concede that it wasn’t a complete shit show. He’d gotten a new friend for his trouble. After giving the pup some pets and scratches, he refocused on the hand drawn map within his journal. Jonas quickly located his destination. He had to admit, if Jonas was to push, he could probably make it in a few hours. He reached back into his bag and pulled out some rations. Munching on some jerky and piling some for the attention sponge, Jonas went back to his journal.
The prospect of getting back by or after 8 PM was very tempting. That’s when heard what sounded like a wagon and the voices of people. Drawing closer to his position. Jonas got up and risked a peek. It wasn’t like they would just shoot him and take everything, but the occupation that Jonas enjoyed had taught him caution, and it was this caution that drove him to be careful less Jonas be taken for all he had including his life. But his concerns were for not. It was just a small wagon train carrying a family and some stragglers.
Even if the risk was low, Jonas was carrying valuable information. A quick risk assessment was all that needed to tell Jonas the risk wasn’t worth a leisurely trip back home. “Shit fuck!” Jonas cursed, as the universe didn’t quite agree with that risk assessment. They were beginning to encircle the area in preparation to set up camp. Now that was fine. Jonas could still sneak off, but that option was cut short when their dogs trumpeted off, alerted the people to his presence. “One bullet. I’ve only got one bullet. No, I got my artifact, and my ability.” Jonas said going through his options.
Running was definitely not an option, because they would shoot him for sure, thinking him up to no good. No, He just needed to calm down. He would just introduce himself, and present himself as non-threateningly as possible. It was a family traveling to some ware. Not some rival looking for Jonas. “What is it boy.” Said a man, encouraging the dog to find the stranger. Jonas just stood up with his hands up. “It’s just me. I was taking a rest for the journey ahead.”
This seemed to take the man by surprise. It did not escape Jonas’ notice, however that a boy of about 13 had a long riffle now and had it trained squarly on his chest. “I truly mean no harm. I’m merely stating my intensions so there doesn’t need to be blood shed so close to my home town.” This took the man by surprise as a female voice was heard from within their wagon. “Which town? Are we there yet?” The man ignored her and pulled out his gun. It was smart. The boy could miss, and taking the riffle could open them up to attack. “Well, get to statin those intentions friend.”
Jonas did just that, and after what seemed like a very tense few minutes. Everyone seemed to ease up. Jonas had charged his own body with electricity just in case such a situation that required violence arose, but Luckly talks did not break down into barbarous activity. In the end, however, Jonas was an unknown, and he, along with the rest of the others agreed that it would be best if they parted ways in piece. It turned out that they weren’t headed to his home town, but the next town over. A gang calling themselves the sons of Alla had raided and burned the place to the ground. Their family and the others were the survivors. Even though the gang was killed, they feared retribution and left to rebuild their lives elsewhere.
Even Jonas could acknowledge it was for the best. He had sensitive documentation, such as maps and material of an archeological nature, and they were wary of random strangers. Jonas shared what was left of his supplies, and recommended a few good shops to restock on supplies and went on his way.
His journey back to town took 4 hours. Jonas had to carry the wolf pup, but considering his bag was now practically empty, it mattered very little. It was 10PM on arrival, and Jonas couldn’t be any happier to see the place. He stopped by a local food vendor and purchased some grilled meats for himself and the pup. When Jonas made it back to his home, he found his door kicked in, but it looked to be a day old. He could tell by the muddy boot print. It was from a standard issue police boot if he had to guess. “I guess the crazy bastard did it.”
Jonas was thinking it just in case someone was around. Just in case there was an uninvited guest, he did draw his gun. Regardless, one shot was all he’d get off anyway, but it never hurt to be safe. He cautiously made his way through the house. Furniture was tossed, and drawers were pulled out, but that was the extent of it. Nothing of importants was missing, and there were no uninvited guests. That completed, Jonas let out a road-weary sigh, bared the door locked and dropped onto the bed after letting the wolf pup out of the bag. After all, tomorrow was going to be an interesting day for sure.
It had indeed proved to be just that. It started out as normal. Well, except for his house being ransacked. Jonas grabbed his bag and tossed the remaining meat skewer to Little Shit, and set out to restock his ammunition and other supplies. Jonas was also going to need new furniture as well as something less perishable to feed the baby wolf. It cost him a good $100. The archeologist would have normally blew a gasket at the total cost. That was a lot of money. “Well shit.” Jonas said as a realization dawned on him.
Little Shit got excited at hearing part of its name, but Jonas ignored the pup. Walking around with all that money was dangerous. He made the bank his next stop, where Jonas deposited the remaining $180, but kept $20 for his wallet. That was when things started to get interesting. Jonas noticed someone fallowing him. He only got a quick glance, but couldn’t say for sure who it was. He could have sworn it was Peter, but the stalker was gone just as fast as he was scene. “Great.” Jonas mumbled under his breath. “What is your game, Erick?”
Jonas wasn’t going to get the puppy hurt or killed. If he truly saw Peter, then he would likely get arrested at the administration building. Yeah, no. It would be a cold day in hell before he let that happen. The police here could be brutal. That went doubly so if they were dancing to the tunes set by the council. Jonas picked the pup up, and made his way home, knowing exactly what he might be in for.
As he entered through the busted door, Jonas was taken by surprise and jumped, taking a defensive posture with his revolver out. “Relax. It’s me, Peter.” Jonas had almost shot the man. “Fuck man. You about gave me a heart attack. What’s this about, anyway? I know this isn’t no friendly visit.” Peter looked away. “It ain’t.” Peter held up some hand cuffs. “Please Jonas, don’t make this any harder for me than it has to be. I don’t take pleasure in arresting a friend.” Jonas had an idea what it could be, but wanted to be sure before he surrendered the revolver. “Under what charge? I am an archeologist. So, I have 2 more days before I have to turn in or present what I have found.” Peter seemed to ease a bit. “No, its to do with the events surrounding Erick.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Upon hearing Erick’s name, Jonas surrendered the revolver, and handed over his other revolver, and allowed Peter to cuff him. “Hey peter, you think you can watch my new puppy while this is being sorted out?” Peter looked at the wolf pup and nodded. “Actually, where did you get it?” Peter asked. “Wolf country.” Peter about tripped when he heard Jonas’ answer. “Yeah, I actually got back yesterday. Thanks for trashing my house, by the way.” Jonas said with some irritation.
The trip to the jail house wasn’t full of apology or light banter. Peter may have been a friend, but he was on the job and Jonas was in his custody. There was an air of professionalism, that needed to be maintained, they even confiscated the artifact Jonas kept at his waste. They also emptied his pockets for any hidden weapons or objects that could help with lockpicking as well as his archologist id card and regular id. In truth, that was such a pointless thing to do, because, if Jonas wanted to, he could kill by touch alone and take the literal key to his freedom. However, that was a last resort.
Jonas was also sure this was just political theater, because just as Erick claimed, The Councilor’s home was burned to the ground. The idea was to shake suspicion and all that. The wagon ride to the jailhouse came to an end and he was roughly guided to a jail cell. Peter had stepped in and stopped it as best he could, but was reprimanded. “Don’t you protect him. He killed a councilmember.” Peter looked the woman in the eye and said, “Allegedly killed, and he’s innocent. We have-” Peter gave Jonas an apologetic look and returned his focus back to the woman who’d taken advantage of Jonas’ situation. “As I was saying. He’s innocent.” They walked off leaving Jonas in his cell.
Just what was going on? Was this a part of Erick’s plan, and what did they mean by “killed a councilmember.” Something wasn’t right. There were to many pieces moving in the background to make sense. This whole plan was supposed to be a simple and clean smuggling operation. Erick would burn his place down to destroy an illegal library, and Jonas would return with a valuable find that would redefine humanities future. However, this was not the case.
Instead, Jonas was in a prison cell accused of murder. Well, Jonas wasn’t going out without a fight. He wasn’t defenseless, after all, and if it came down to it, then Jonas would expose his secret to escape. Jonas would also try to cover his tracks, if possible, but in the end, he’d rather not expose his secret if it could be helped. There was also the possibility that Erick had betrayed Jonas, after all. It was very unlikely, given there were cleaner and quieter ways of getting the deed done.
Jonas circled the room, thinking of multiple theories and possibilities of what could be happening. Ultimately, Jonas just decided to play along, because there was no real way to know who was behind this without doing so, and a premature escape could be counterproductive, especially if Erick was still alive and he was just lying low. There was also the fact that if Erick was alive, then he’d know Jonas was arrested, and would have to reveal himself or they would likely blame Jonas anyway. Nothing he had on him or brought back made for a solid alibi. “Shit! I’m supposed to be petitioning for expedition funding.” Jonas angrily complained.
Days went by with little to nothing to occupy Jonas’ time. Peter had stopped by once a day to deliver his daily meal, and talk a little, but nothing he said sounded encouraging. It was like Jonas thought. They were going to hang him. They’d even arranged his trial. It was going to take a week for jury selection. At one point in one of their conversation’s, Jonas lost his temper. “It sounds like they’ve made their decision already. I mean, come on, this whole trial is a sham and they just want someone to pin this on.” Peter looked uncomfortable. “They’re not going to do that. You’re too public a figure in this town. Just relax.”
How could Jonas relax. He’d been rotting in this prison waiting for Erick to pop in and say “Surprise!” or something, and they’d all just walk out, but that hadn’t happened yet. The prospect that Erick really was murdered was looking like it was a real possibility. He did have enemies. Eric told Jonas as much. That was the whole reason for the elaborate ruse. Jonas felt something slide into his palm right as a tray of food slid through the bars. “Look, I’m sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I mean it.”
Peter just started walking away, leaving Jonas standing there with tray in hand. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not about to be killed for something you had nothing to do with.” But peter didn’t stop and just kept walking. Jonas just wanted to throw the tray onto the ground but didn’t. He was hungry, and starving himself wouldn’t solve anything. Besides, dying was not an option. If Erick was dead, then he’d escape and achieve his dream for the both of them. “No way am I sticking around here for this shit.”
That’s when Jonas noticed the paper that was in his hand. Jonas instinctively looked up, quickly realizing that looking at peter with a stupid look on his dumb face was stupid. Jonas quickly adopted a look of anger, and angrily took his food to a corner, and started eating.
Erick was sitting in a safehouse outside of town recovering from a nasty stab wound in his side and a severely burnt left arm. His drive for money and power didn’t completely dominate Erick’s life, and his enemies took advantage of that. There were people in Erick’s life who’s very being meant something. One of them was Ms. Walkins. She had served him long enough that he thought of her as family, an older sister, perhaps. She was still a maid, of course, but that bond was there. When Erick saw the mansion on fire, he was initially relieved, because than it would look far less suspicious. An obvious crime was easy to pin on others, but it was the deception aspect that needed to be sold and this worked.
Erick had a solid alibi for the arson, and he could vouch for his maid. That was where Erick had miscalculated. His enemies also planned on burning down the mansion to cover up his assassination. Except, unlike Erick, they’d clearly and severally underestimated the buildup in the chimney. This backfire in their plans nearly ruined everything, except Erick had a soft spot for the maid, and helped them salvage their assassination attempt by charging in like a complete retard. That was where his second, and probably his biggest miscalculation came into play, because the maid was a planted spy for said enemy. Considering he’d made so many over the years, it was difficult for Erick to tell which one specifically.
He remembered the betrayal like it had just happened. Erick saw the mansion on fire. As soon as he realized Ms. Walkins might still be inside the burning inferno, Erick just bolted into the burning death trap with little concern for himself. Erick re4membered thinking how crazy it was. That, she was probably dead. In retrospect, Erick should have never even gone in, but he had. Erick felt the fire eating at his flesh and fusing his clothing to Erick’s very skin. It hurt like a mother fucker, but His mind wasn’t on the pain. It was just that, and pain was temporary. Experience had told Erick that much.
As Erick fought his way through the burning building, he felt his vision begin to dim. Erick was suffering smoke inhalation. He remembered thinking about the cellar and how smoke went up, and it dawned on Erick that Ms. Walkins would likely be in the cellar, especially if she had been unable to get out of the servant quarters. It also held two secret passages. One for the staff, and the other he had secretly made for himself. Common sense told Erick where she would likely be, and so Erick navigated to the cellar entrance.
It was not easy. There were times when Erick had to crawl to avoid the smoke, and the wood floors had been hot. Erick could feel blisters of immodest sizes swelling beneath his already skin-fused clothing. But regardless he had made it. He felt instant relief when he touched cold stone, but he couldn’t stop there. Erick had to find Ms. Walkins. He needed to get her to safety. Well, Erick had indeed found his maid. However, It was more like, she had found, because just as he entered the servant wing, Erick felt a sharp pain enter between his ribs on his right side. He could feel the long knife separate flesh and organ alike as it passed through his lung and puncture his heart.
He remembered the popping sound and turning to see Ms. Walkins. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments. Erick saw the surprise flash across her face. At first, he thought she had made a mistake, thinking Erick an attacker, but it became clear, that she had intended to kill him. “Impossible! You should be dead.” It truly broke Erick’s heart to hear the woman speak those words without regret for the attempt on his very life. By rights, it should have killed him, but like Jonas he too held a secret, and it was what allowed Erick to do what he did next next.
Erick grabbed the now frightened women’s wrist. She was scared now. How could she not? A man she had just stabbed through the lung and heart was fighting back. Erick pivoted on his foot, bringing the frightened assassin down before him and snapped her arm and then her wrist. As Erick pulled the long knife from between his ribs, he asked Ms. Walkins, “Why? I deserve that much.” She spat at him. “Freak.” Was all Reicks ex-maid said before Erick drove the weapon through her neck, and severing her brain stem.
Erick sat in his chair. He was off course, mostly healed by now, thanks to his secret, but someone had tried to kill him. The question was who, but his thoughts were interrupted when he heard a knock at the door and a passphrase spoken. “Enter.” A scrawny kid entered his secret home. “What news have you of Jonas?” The kid went pale. The Talon government council is going to pin your death on the archeologist and have the man executed. Erick pulled out a piece of paper. “They will have to give him a trial first. He began writing on the small slip of paper, and handed it back to the boy. “Give this to Peter.”
