Judd had his stern gaze firmly on Bear. ‘It was an accident.’ His tone was sharp and weak all at once.
‘What was?’ asked Raven, stepping into Judd’s eyeline.
Judd shuffled, biting his bottom lip for a moment, and Varklee came to stand beside Raven. ‘It was an accident, I said.’
A tic hit Varklee’s right eye. ‘You’ve got five seconds to explain to this block where Torro is before I show you a War Zone like you’ve never seen, boy.’
Judd snarled at his enemy. ‘It’s the Zone. Someone has to die. Wasn’t my fault it was Torro. I was aiming for the traitor.’
A beat passed.
‘Oh,’ said Varklee quietly, padding towards Judd. ‘You mean to say your target was little Miss Smithson, but you went and snared yourself a Rebel instead?’ He didn’t wait for an answer; he turned to his audience. ‘I think it’s safe to say Judd here killed Oxley Torro.’ He raised one finger. ‘Excuse me while I just shimmy to the side.’ Making a display of moving so Judd was face to face with Bear, he mocked a bow. ‘Your turn, Vyer.’
Bear still hadn’t processed anything that was being said. He could see all eyes were on him, and Judd’s nerves were bouncing one leg, but nothing but numbness owned the moment until Raven’s voice faded in.
‘Sir. Sir.’ Raven was in the doorway. ‘Is it true? Is Ox … gone?’
The guard bobbed his head, looking as sorry as the inmates. ‘Yes, it was Oxley Torro who died.’
An eerie silence fell, then Bear’s roar filled the air, rattling off each and every bar. With teeth bared and fire in his glare, he ran at Judd, practically flying through the air to land upon him, slamming fist after fist into Judd’s face, busting it open at every corner.
Guards rushed in as the inmates cheered and yelled, some encouraging the fight, others wanting their own war. Pirates thrashed at Flames, and Varklee was in the thick of it, taking down all that neared him.
The lightning rods were put to use, but inmates turned on the guards, fighting back while taking hits, and still Bear smashed his fists into Judd, his mind blank, his heart dead, undiluted pain ripping through his soul.
Raven jumped on Bear’s back. A bold move under the circumstances, but if Bear killed Judd, he’d be sent to Red, then they’d all die in the prison. ‘Stop, Bear. Stop,’ he yelled.
But Bear couldn’t stop. He couldn’t do anything but take revenge for his brother.
Guards flew at Bear, hands latching on to his arms, shoulders, chest, tugging him hard, hitting his back with their batons, jabbing lightning into his side, but Bear roared and roared through the ordeal, seeing only Oxley, his forever friendly smile, hearing his laughter, watching him fade to nothing.
‘Ox!’ he yelled. ‘Ox!’
Raven tried to help calm him, but the guards pushed him away, then dealt with Varklee when he came for them.
‘We’ve got this,’ said Varklee. ‘Let him be. We can handle this.’ His demands went nowhere fast, as more guards rushed in, and something sharp was stuck into Bear’s neck, removing his energy at once.
Bear slid to the floor, vision blurred, voices muffled. He could just about make out the fight in front of him being broken up, and inmates forced into the cells, doors clanging shut, cries drifting in and out of his ears. Raven’s face was close, then dragged away, his mouth silently moving, the warning in his eyes of what, Bear couldn’t be sure. Anger perhaps. Fear.
The ceiling moved in on him, then he realised he had been lifted and was being carried out of the block. With fluttering eyes, and no sign of a pulse, he let go of the fight he was trying to hold, giving in to the potion swirling within, relaxing his muscles, dousing his flames, swallowing his emotions.
PART III
THE DEPARTURE
20
Bear stirred, his joints stiff, mouth dry, and vision clearing enough to see he was in a bed in the infirmary. Sighing, he sat up and rubbed his forehead as he reached into his drowsy mind for information on how he ended up with a healer, who wasn’t around.
He swung his legs off the bed and simply sat there, staring at the floor for a long moment, inhaling the scent of the same disinfectant he used to clean Red Block Two.
Then it hit him. Oxley was dead. Killed in the War Zone by Judd, who had been aiming for Scarlen, and tears pricked his eyes as his throat clogged.
‘Ox,’ he mumbled, a tremble reaching his nerve endings. How could it be true? Not Ox, surely not him. A plan was in place. They were leaving the prison soon. He would take Oxley home, where he’d be free. They’d all be free.
The escape hole was almost big enough for them to slip through, but now what? He thought he was keeping his family safe, but too much attention had been in the wrong direction. Ox was dead when it was supposed to be Scarlen. So much hate rippled through him, but he didn’t know where to aim it, as somuch of his heart was pulled towards the general’s daughter, of all fucking people. He still couldn’t get his head around it, and now everything felt worse. Ox should never have died for one of them.
Bear slid off the bed, the cold floor cramping his bare feet on impact, making him scrunch his toes back to life as the healer entered.
