Warrior Chapter Two *Damn Rebels*

On the other side of the wall, they run into a group of rebels known as Phoenix.

"Be careful what you choose to begin, because you may never see the end." - Anonymous

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I think I was around ten years old when it all changed.

One day, night-crawlers and other creepy stuff began popping up along with rumors of a deadly 'wraith' skulking around the forest. Then suddenly, a bunch of new laws were made including no leaving the fort.

And, since no one listened, there were guards everywhere with orders to shoot lawbreakers.

And, now that I think about it, climbing into a tree was a really stupid idea. I mean, sure they couldn't see us because of the thick layer of leaves, but they could just wait us out . . . or burn down the tree . . .

Taryn was silent for a while, gazing down at the guards, trying to think up a solution to our predicament. When she finally looked up, she caught me staring at her expectantly. 

"What."She said, irritation rising in her throat.

"How about a 'thanks?'"

"Why?" She scrunched up her delicate nose, giving me the same kind of contemptuous look someone would give a dumpster diver.

"Um, for just saving your a*s?" I poked her arm, which only caused her frown to deepen.

"Oh, thanks." She turned back to the guards and narrowed her eyes, trying to concentrate. "Remember," she continued without taking her eyes off of the guards, "It was you, not me, who slept in, making us miss the guard shift and now we're in this mess."

"Seriously?"

"Um, yeah." She glanced in my direction, her tone laced with obvious irritation. "If you haven't noticed, Cora, we're stuck in a freaking tree!" She turned away again and began rummaging around in her backpack, looking for something. I bit my tongue to keep from saying anything I'd later regret.

Through my series of odd life experiences, I've learned to read people without a lot of effort. But with Taryn, I can never tell what she's thinking. Even in my full sixteen years of knowing her, I feel like I've only scratched the surface of her true personality.

A moment later, she found what she was looking for: a two-foot-long, hollow tube. As she brought one end to her lips, I suddenly realized what she was doing and tried to stop her, but I was too slow. 

A quick puff of air and the guard with the crossbow crumpled to the ground at the feet of his friend who, with another flash of a silver dart, soon joined him.

A small, unsettling smile crossed Taryn's face as she surveyed her handiwork. Then she casually tossed the blow-tube back into her bag and jumped down from the tree branch, landing gracefully on the path below.

I shouted after her, picking my way down the trunk. "Taryn!" She kept walking. "Taryn! Hey!" I jumped down the last foot and sprinted to catch up with her. "You can't just go around killing people! What the hell's wrong with you?!"

She turned around so fast that I almost ran into her. "They're unconscious, idiot!" Completely ignoring my offended expression, she spun back around and continued walking, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. We continued down the path in uncomfortable silence.

As we were walking along, I suddenly got the feeling that we were being watched, and I silently began to panic. As I said before, the woods weren't exactly tourist-friendly.

My head whipped around in the direction of slight movement; I slowed down, studying the trees warily, and had to jog to catch up to Taryn again. After a few long minutes of watching the forest around us like a hunted animal, Taryn interrupted my thoughts by letting out a long, exasperated sigh.

"What is it?" I asked. 

She nodded toward a grove of trees ahead of us. Barely visible between the vegetation, was a boy leaning with his back against a tree and his arms folded across his chest. He was dressed from head to toe in a scarlet uniform that looked like it had never been washed, and his face was lost in the shadow of his hood.

A wave of relief washed over me as I realized it was just some guy watching us, which is a bit creepy but, you know, it's better than some kind of monster.

As we drew closer, however, my temporary relief was replaced with uneasiness as I noticed the twin daggers at his belt and the phoenix patch on his upper arm.

Taryn stopped a few yards away from him and defiantly crossed her arms. I stayed behind her, not sure what to do or say. The stranger pushed himself off the tree trunk and walked slowly toward us, giving us a good once-over. Four other guys appeared of out the brush to stand at his side.

They all had on that same uniform.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of the boys was staring at me. And I mean blatantly staring. My thoughts immediately jumped to wondering if there was a handsome face underneath his hood. I mean, I could tell he was athletic just by the way he was standing . . .

Get a grip, Cora. I thought, averting my eyes.

The leader of the group walked right up to Taryn and looked down at her with narrowed eyes. "Taryn," He said, his voice velvety smooth but somehow containing a distinct, venomous undertone.

"Sam," She responded, her tone almost conveying hatred. At the mention of his name, he lifted his scarlet hood, revealing his face. He had light, feathery hair, a sharp chin and the kind of dark eyes that thrived on mischief.

"And who's this?" He said, turning to me, a small grin on his lips.

"Who says you get the privilege to know?" Taryn immediately shot back, defensively stepping between us. His dark eyes shifted back to her, and he let out a short laugh, which surprised me. I thought that look on his face had been murderous.

"No need to be feisty now," He began, "I'm only here to restate my offer. You know, since I'm a nice person."

Taryn wrinkled up her nose. "I already told you, I'm not joining your little rebel thing."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear you say that. I was hoping I wouldn't have to use blackmail." He retrieved a folded piece of paper from his pocket, flattened it out and held it up with a smug grin.

It was a wanted poster. The sketch depicted a dark figure holding a bow and the message scrawled across the top was Wraith: Wanted for smuggling weapons and participating in treasonous activities.

Taryn simply raised an eyebrow. "And why would that be something important to me?"

Sam's dark eyes flashed. He grabbed one of his henchmen by the arm and said something none of us could hear. The poor guy caught in Sam's grip cowered before him, saying, "I-I swear, I thought it was!"

Sam shoved the boy to the ground and turned on Taryn. "You do not want to screw with me, Taryn Talion."

"And you don't want to screw with me." She countered somewhat aggressively, touching her dagger at her belt. "If you didn't already realize, I'm not just some helpless refugee like the rest of your goons."

Instead of exploding in anger, Sam swallowed his rage and smiled at her. "That's exactly why I want you." 

Taryn scoffed at him. 

"I see," He said, his gaze settling on me. "You just need some motivation."

Before I realized what was going on, we were surrounded. Taryn brandished her dagger as the boys drew their own weapons. Being unarmed, I wasn't sure what to do besides let Taryn defend me.

However, that strategy didn't exactly work out.

One of the boys rushed me. I dodged a blow and swung in riposte, my punch cleanly connecting with his chin, which caused both of us to stagger back. A split second later, he came at me again, and within a few seconds I was on the ground, locked in a sleeper hold. I pulled at his arm, trying to pry it off of me, but to no avail. My lungs burned as my air supply dwindled away and my vision began to blur.

Somehow, I was able to force my mouth open and, with the last bit of willpower I had left, I clamped down on his flesh. I bit down so hard I tasted blood. He yelped, quickly withdrawing his arm. 

I shoved him off of me and scrambled to my feet, gasping for air. Immediately, Sam's arms snaked around me and pulled me against him, pressing a dagger to my throat. 

"Stop!" He commanded, turning toward Taryn who was shamelessly beating up his other henchmen. When Taryn saw me, her determined expression went soft and she straightened up.

"Drop your weapon." Sam ordered, his tone smooth yet with an edge of uneasiness.

"No way." Taryn responded angrily. He tightened his grip on me and pressed the dagger more forcefully against my jugular. At hearing me wince, Taryn held up her hands. "Okay, okay," she said, carefully laying her weapon down without taking her eyes off of me. "Don't do anything stupid, Sam."

"Watch your mouth."

One of his henchmen, a boy with dark hair and grey eyes, interrupted the tension,"Hey man," He began, gesturing to me and the dagger, "This isn't right."

"Shut up, Thorne!" The boy shrank away without another word. "Now," Sam continued, his attention focusing once again on Taryn. "Two years of service. Or I slice baby sissy's delicate little throat."

A boiling hatred began to fester in the pit of my stomach, growing every second I was being used as a bargaining chip. Glancing to the side, I saw that the other boys had backed away and were all standing nervously at the edge of the path. 

"Let her go, Sam." Taryn tried to remain calm, but I could see the fear in her eyes.

"Nah," Sam responded, pulling me closer so that I could feel his lips on my ear. "I think I'll hold onto her a little longer."

"Tread lightly," I hissed.

"I'm not the one with a knife at my throat." He whispered, his breath tickling my ear. "Now," Sam continued speaking to Taryn. "Two years. And you know what that entails."

Taryn's expression hardened, but I could tell she was thinking about it. 

The anger in the pit of my stomach bubbled up into my chest and spread throughout my entire body. It felt as though a searing pain was squeezing my every nerve, but at the same time there was a sort of comforting warmth in my chest as if the sun had replaced my heart. It was an eerily familiar feeling that genuinely frightened me.

I felt Sam let me go, but I couldn't see anything; it was too bright. Just as I was about to scream from the overwhelming sensation, two hands gripped my shoulders and shook me out of whatever daydream I was having.

When my vision straightened out, I was met with Taryn's chocolate eyes. Her hands were gripping my shoulders and her skin was badly burned. With a shaky hand, I slowly reached out to touch her raw cheek, but she moved away.

"What . . . what happened?" I asked, staring fixedly at her burns.

"Can you stand?" She said, which sounded much more like an order than a question.

"What happened?"

"Can you stand?" She repeated sternly, completely ignoring my question.

"Y-Yeah . . ."

With that, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the forest. As I was hurriedly led away, I looked back over my shoulder. 

The boys were rolling back and forth on the ground, moaning, their bodies covered in burns. Lying unconscious in the center of the path was Sam, his clothing black and smoldering and his blistering skin as red as a fire truck.