Authors note: Hey guys :), how was all of your summers? mine was very productive and I now have a fully detailed plan and chapter layout. Now that know exactly where i am going and how i am going to end, please expect more regular updates (although don't hate me if im sometimes a bit off schedule).
Its better this way I tell myself, passing the barn. Soft murmurs and contented bleats come from within; the rest of the group are taking advantage of the unexpected stop, probably relived to not be hiking through the walker infested woods. That was way to close, I continue, hurrying past before anyone can see me. What would you have done if you kissed? You think he could like you, if he knew how you left Simon and Luke? A mental snort. Don't care for people, not here, not anymore. You'll just hurt them, or they will hurt you.
I come to a tiny woodshed, really nothing more than a three sided wooden shed with a tin roof. Inside, stacked high, are piles upon piles of split logs, and I load several into the rusty wheelbarrow sitting nearby, when I hear a low moan.
Warily, I put a hand on my sword and wait,unmoving. It comes again, the soft helpless sound of somebody in pain. The sound is coming from the other side of the woodshed.
Still keeping a hand on the hilt of my Katana, I edge around the building, ready to draw my weapon if necessary. When I see what is making the noise, however, I drop my arm. There is no need.
A large iron cage stands at the back of the woodshed. The bars are thick and close together, though far enough apart for me to see inside. The door is barred in two places from the outside, padlocked shut and wrapped in chains. Even the floor of the cage has iron bars running along it, separating the prisoner from the earth below him. A thin layer of straw has been spread over the floor, it partially absorbs the smell of urine, blood and gore.
Huddled under a blanket, curled up in the corner closest to the woodshed, a familiar, thin man with grey streaked hair looks up at me. I remember him immediately from the time me and Jace saved him in the woods.
I blink. "Hodge?" I whisper, confirming my doubts that he is the man we had dragged from the woods. "What are you doing in there?" I ask, appalled. I can smell the disease on him, the torn flesh under the bandages. He is still badly hurt and needs to be in bed, or at least a room that he can be looked after in. "Who put you in here," I demand, wrapping a fist around the bars. He stars at me with bleary eyes, and I back away, fuming. "I'll go get some people, we will break you out."
"No," Hodge wheezes, holding out a hand. I stare at him, and he coughs, shuddering beneath his quilt. "No, it's quite alright," he continues when the spell has passed. "The boar savaged my leg pretty badly. I must be locked up until they can be sure that I will not turn."
"They did this to you on purpose?" I came back, gripping the bars again, peering at him closely. "And you let them? I don't understand, how is your leg?""It's been looked after as well as is expected," Hodge replied, shrugging. "In the morning, someone will come and re-bandage it. It's not as bad as it looks, I think I have a good chance of pulling through this one."
I look at his hollow, sweaty face, the pain glazing his eyes and shake my head. "I still don't understand why they have put you in this cage. Why did they do that? I'd be screaming and tearing the walls down, trying to get out."
"I want to be in here," Hodge insists. "What if I die in the house and Turn before anyone notices? What if I kill somebody? No." he leans back, drawing his blanket closer around himself. "This is necessary. I'm not going to put anyone at danger here in this cage, and the family is safe. That's all I care about."
"But you're not bitten, are you?"
"No," Hodge replies wearily.
"So its fine, you're not going to Turn." I exclaim, still not understanding why he things he is a danger to the people around him when there is no way that he will turn into a walker, not if he hasn't been bitten.
Hodge sighs, and in that moment I can see that he bags under his eyes are so dark that his face look like a skeleton, he looks as if he is dead already. "Whether I have been bitten or not does not matter, if this infection on my leg kills me, I will Turn." I give him a confused look, "oh you don't know. How interesting, I would have thought Valentine would have told you.""Told me what?" I demand.
Hodge meets my gaze, "if you die, you Turn. It doesn't matter how you die; whether it be because of disease, injury, or because of a bite, if and when you die, you will Turn."
Slowly, I sink to the floor. It's over, for all of us; this is the end of the world. Before I was holding on to the hope that maybe we could kill them, maybe we would find a way to wipe them all out. But now I have realised that the problem isn't them, it's us. All of us are infected. Every single human being. If we die, the disease wakes up and takes over, and the dead walk.
I feel disgusted. Somewhere in my body, in my blood, is a dormant walker just waiting to be let free. "Why did Valentine not tell us this? If he already knew like you said."
"There are a lot of things that Valentine hasn't told you." Hodge begins to cough, and each one sounds worse than the last. "He has always had secrets that man."
"Do you know him?" I ask, confused at Hodges familiarity with our groups leader.
"Better than most."
I am about to inquire as to how Hodge knows Valentine when his body is engulfed by an explosion of lung rattling coughs. Each paroxysm more violent than the last, and I can see a trail of red liquid oozing from the left side of his mouth. His face is the very picture of pain; his eyes filled with fear, his skin a pasty white.
He is going to die. Soon.
"What can I do?" I ask frantically, and to my ears my voice sounds panicked and so much louder than I expected in the otherwise quiet night. Hodges only answer is yet another outburst, twice as awful as the last. Blood spews from his mouth and splatters my shoes. I watch as a droplet, barely the size of a pea, rolls down to the ground, leaving a trail of red behind it like a bloody tear stain. How could they leave this man in the cold like this? A man so terrified, so alone, so close to his own death and yet so completely abandoned by people he called family. Left to die in a cage behind the woodshed. If these people could do something so heartless to one of their own, what would they be willing to do to us?
"I'm going to get help." Hodge has stopped coughing but makes no attempt to acknowledge me. He is slumped in his blanket faintly shivering, his head against the bars and I fear that help will come too late for him.
I take one last look at his expressionless face and head toward the closest light; the barn.The barn is the most imposing building in the compound, easily 15 feet tall it looks down on us all as if we are mere ants. It also seems the least decrepit despite its basic wooden frame. The red wood of its walls are only faintly peeling and the old fashioned thatched roof still slops proudly as if it has been newly done.
The main feature of the building, its massive wooden door, is swung partially open- just enough for me to make out raised voices. Despite my hurry, something in their tones ring with danger and I slow as I approach, hoping to distinguish the owners of the voices.
"… and what of the circle now Valentine?" I hear a women's voice, clear and full of rage, and stop just outside of the door, not daring to enter. "You think that because it was dispatched people have forgotten? You are foolish." She spits out the word foolish as if it is poison aimed at his heart. "We know what you did; what you did to your poor children… your wife?!"
I know that I am intruding on something major and that I should stop listening but I can't, I am riveted to the spot. My body is leaning towards the open gate, begging me to let it closer, let it discover the mystery of the conversation behind the door.
"Do not bring my family into this," I hear Valentines voice. His order is cool and icy, scarily calm in comparison to the woman's (which I now know belongs to Amatis).
"Family." She laughs, "What do you know of family?" Valentine does not reply so she continues. "You're wife left you for another man; your daughter doesn't know who you are; and your son… he is barely even human."
I stand and wait for a reply but there is none. Scared that I might miss some of the conversation I edge closer to the door and peer around the edge. Valentine has his back to me, his hands are clasped behind his back in an old fashioned gesture, his outfit is immaculately clean, his hair swept back to perfection. To the casual observer he looks cool, passive but I can see the tension in his shoulders and the bulging vein in his neck. His fury is a fist of ice that at any moment will slam into Amatis and break her into a million tiny pieces. I find that I am scared for her and that thought isboth shocking and terrifying because she is a woman who would leave one of her own to die in the cold, and he is supposed to be my leader, someone I trust. And yet still I find myself worried for her life and I realise that I truly don't know anyone around me. I have emerged myself into a broken community led by a man who has more secrets than I have regrets. Valentine can't be trusted, none of the group can if they have followed him so long. I come to the realisation that perhaps I am better off on my own.
"I sacrificed them for the good of the human race." He replies. His words cause a shiver to run down my spine.
"You did no such thing." Amatis cries. "The circle went too far and now the world has to pay the price." I can see Amatis' face as she says this and it is engulfed in regret. Her hands are shaking and I can tell that she is a little frightened, but her passionate tone of voice suggests that she will keep going, she is not going to back down. There is a silence for a few seconds and I watch as Amatis shakes her head despairingly, her greying hair covering her face like a veil. The way that she is pleading with him even after he has so clearly done something irreversible confuses me and I don't understand why she cares so much. I need to know what he has done.
"Jace should know Valentine. As should the girl." Amatis sighs and her voice lowers, and so I edge even closer so as to make sure I catch her words. My head is practically in the barn now and one glance in my direction could give me away but I am not thinking about consequence, my mind is occupied by her last words. What should Jace know? Who is the girl? My mind is reeling so much by the most recent piece of information that I almost miss Valentines hand twitch. His fingers are curling down his lower back and behind his tee-shirt to something hidden there.
"She looks so much like her mother." Amatis says softly and her eyes are cast downward in despair as a single tear creeps down her cheek. Valentine moves faster than a snake. His right hand, which had been underneath his tee-shirt, snaps out and in it I can see the silver gleam of a knife. He lunges forward as I almost equally as quick step out from behind the door and unsheathe my sword. My blade doubles his in length but he is much closer to his victim and I can already see that I acted too late.
I stumble forward, my legs wobbly due to standing still so long in anticipation. Valentine must have heard me as his head whips around in my direction. I see a flicker of recognition and surprise in his eyes before he turns back around and drives the blade straight into Amatis' stomach. I hear the squelch as the knife slips into her gut and she cries out, stumbling backwards and falling into a distraught heap on the dirty barn floor. Slowly valentine spins on his heels to greet me. His eyes flicker like a snakes and in them I see the phantom of deranged glee, telling me that not only did he go for the kill, he also enjoyed it.
I get into a fighting stance; my legs apart, my weight shifted between them equally, my shoulders back, and my katana clutched in front of me. When I fight my blade becomes more than just a sword, it becomes an extension of my arm. With it I can kill and slice just as naturally as waving or any other humane act that the average person would require the use of their arm for.
Valentine stands in front of me with an aura of composure that just manages to enrage me even more. His attire is unruffled and ordinary- the only hint that he just stabbed someone is the bloodied blade in his left hand. He nods at me and the formal gesture is so ridiculous that it would have been funny in other circumstances."I'm sorry you had to see that Clary," Valentine says to me, smoothing down his shirt with his free hand. When he looks back up at me I see that his face is the picture of mock sincerity that makes me wonder if anything he does is genuine and not just put up for show. "I'm afraid me and my friend Amatis had a little argument."
"Little argument?" I reply boldly, "you stabbed the woman! Generally I'd describe that as more than a 'little argument'" I shoot him my dirtiest look and ready myself mentally for the inevitable fight that is about to happen.
"She was right you know." He looks me directly in the eye and I am taken aback by the ferocity in which he holds my gaze. "You really do look like your mother."
His comment knocks me completely off my guard and I take a step back. Valentine knew my mother? Why didn't he tell me before? The image of my beautiful mother crashes into me like a wave and her smell surrounds me. My mother really was gorgeous, she was tall and slim. The most elegant woman I had ever met- she used to glide instead of walk, I thought. And her long, red hair was always perfectly straight and thick- not like my bright burning red, but more like an auburn colour, the colour of roses. How could someone as beautiful as my mother- inside and out- have known someone as evil as the man standing in front of me now.
"How do yo-?" I am about to ask when I am interrupted by a noise behind me. A low groan that sends an icy dagger into my soul. I spin slowly around, my sword raised, and greet the monster in front of me- the monster behind me will have to wait.
I am expecting the thrill and seduction of the fight to wash over me as I greet the walker, but I am filled only with a sensation of icy shock as I look into the face of my prey. The hollow eyes of what used to be Hodge stare blankly back at me. I feel sick. I have failed him. I left him to turn, on his own, in a locked cage. I broke my promise to him and I don't even know if he heard me utter it but the fact that I didn't bring help in time for him makes me feel ill. Snakes slither in my stomach and rise up through my throat, chocking me. A croaked sob escapes my lips as he starts to walk towards me.
"Hodge, I am s- so sorry." I manage to say as a sob breaks free of my body. I taste the salt of my tears. "I wasn't there for you, I forgot about you." I say stepping towards him. "You didn't deserve a fate like that." I raise my sword. "I wanted to save you, be the hero you needed." I bring the edge of my blade down on his neck and his blood explodes from his body. "But I don't think heroes exist anymore."
