Page 45 of Darkness I Become
As she walked by Cade’s side, she reflected on how sad it was that these Wastelanders actually respected him more for this kind of stunt. Not because she felt disgust for him anymore, but because he was so much more than this. So much smarter, and kinder, and funnier than his act suggested. Perhaps the Wasteland had forced him to act like a brute, but underneath that, he was still a man. One that mystified and fascinated her in equal measure. He held so much darkness andso much light inside of him, a duality that he wielded to his advantage in any given situation.
In a world where nothing was promised and tomorrow was never certain, her growing attachment to him was perilous…yet she couldn’t find it in herself to reject him now. He may have been the only person she’d ever gotten this close to trusting.
Chapter 14
Hillside was a farming community more than a single settlement. There was a central, fortified village where the marketplace was housed, and where some of the farm workers lived, but it was otherwise made up of small farms that dotted the area around the base of a high, steep hill. Some had small flocks of livestock, while others held fields of crops. These were humble operations, farmed by hand, the way Asha had seen in old movies at the Cave. A thin river snaked through the landscape, and a few of the farms had waterwheels to power their mills.
Asha appreciated the soft, rolling hills and the hustle and bustle of the people, all hard at work. Every so often, however, she saw those who clearly did not belong: men with feather tattoos, carrying weapons of various kinds: clubs, bats, and a few with guns. Angel’s men.
“Grunts don’t get guns,” Cade explained when she asked. “There aren’t enough to go around, so only higher-ranking Guardians get them.”
He led her and the rest of the Blackguard into the village, which was surrounded by stone walls, with feather-tattooed guards posted at the entrance. While the village itself was populated by regular folks, it was clear that Angel’s men were the ones who controlled and ran the place.
The guard waved them in, though he gave Asha a second, curious glance. But he knew Cade, and he didn’t question it. Asha was used to people deferring to Cade by now, but it still surprised her a little.
The village was small, but the market was bustling with busy stalls that sold a variety of goods: mostly food, drugs, and weapons. Asha was shocked by how openly drugs were advertised and sold, and the wide range of people who bartered for them; recreational drugs were so tightly controlled back at home. Some looked like regular folks, but a large contingent were rail-thin and desperate-looking.
“Why does Angel allow drugs here?” Asha asked Cade in a low voice. “Surely that can’t be good for…for anyone.”
Cade shrugged. “If they didn’t get it here, they’d get it somewhere else. It also makes it easier to get them to work, if you promise them their fix in exchange.”
He said this as though it were entirely normal to use addiction against an entire population to get them to perform slave labour.
Asha shot him an appalled look. “That’s barbaric.”
“I don’t disagree, but that’s not why we’re here,” he replied dismissively, then raised his voice: “Blackguard, assemble! Let’s get set up.”
They got to work setting up a table in the marketplace where residents could come to drop off their rent payments. These mostly came in the form of food, tools, and clothing. Cade also had a list of supplies that had been requested by people back at the Nest, and residents could fulfill their rents by supplying these items. A handful of the Blackguard stayed by the table, guarding their horse-drawn wagon, which they filled with the supplies, while others patrolled the market. Cade had Asha sit with him at the table, though he handled the transactions with residents.
She watched Cade closely throughout the day, surprised by the two sides of him that once again emerged. He was stern and commandeering to residents who gave him a hard time, especially if he judged that they were well-fed and simply complaining about paying their share. But to those who were clearly struggling—with poor harvests, family deaths, or something else—he was a different man altogether.
“It’s fine, Archie,” Cade said, reassuring an older man who looked about to burst into tears over his crop failing that season. “We’ll figure it out. Shit happens.”
Archie fumbled with the buttons on the threadbare knitted shirt he wore. “You…you won’t tell A-Angel?”
Asha tried not to show her disgust at how much Angel obviously petrified every person who lived here. She couldn’t imagine what he’d done to make them so.
“He’ll never know,” Cade replied gently. “You keep whatever you have for your family. I’ll make up the difference somewhere else.”
Archie thanked him profusely, so enthusiastically that it turned Asha’s stomach a little.He shouldn’t have to beg for mercy over a fucking bushel of vegetables,she thought, anger resurfacing from the constantly-simmering well of emotion under her skin.
“I need a break,” she snapped at Cade, then strode away before he could respond. He didn’t follow her immediately, and she was glad. She needed some alone time after being stuck with a bunch of men for over a week.
Asha walked through the rest of the market, which—relative to the size of the village—was large and full of interesting wares. A man shouted at her about farm-fresh produce; another advertised his fine selection of weapons outside what appeared to be a blacksmith shop; and a little girl offered to sell her flowers. At the end of one of the aisles, there was a woman selling human-hair wigs. Asha didn’t want to know how she’d obtained the hair, but she had to admit that whoever made them knew their craft well.
At the back of the market, towards the stone wall, there was a flat wooden platform that looked all too familiar. A small crowd of men gathered around, and perhaps a dozen terrified-looking young women stood above them, hands bound, their wide eyes on the ground. A short, chubby bald man carrying a large black whip stood to the side, calling out numbers like an auction.
It was a slave market. Like the one she’d been rescued from.
Hot, putrid bile rose in Asha’s throat, which somehow also felt as though it was closing up. She was suddenly burning hot all over, as though she’d been dipped into a cauldron of boiling water. Her mouth was dry as sawdust, and she could hear nothing more, as a loud ringing began in her ears that shut out all sound. She tried to speak, but no words would form.
All she could do was grapple at her side for her pistol. Somehow, getting it out of its holster was proving impossible; her hands were shaking too badly.
I’m going to shoot him,she thought, looking toward the trafficker with the whip, even as her vision blurred with rage and something else far more potent.I’m going to kill him. I don’t care.
“Stand down!” Cade’s order was frantic behind her, but she didn’t care. She’d finally managed to retrieve her gun. “I saidstand down, soldier!”
Half a second later, she was tackled to the ground by his mass of muscle and military gear. She didn’t fight him because she didn’t quite understand what’d happened, or what she was doing. The last few moments felt like she’d been sleepwalking.
