“Which means when they do attack us, they’re going to be pulling some sneaky shit. Just like last time.”
I nod. It’s the same conclusion I’ve come to. Which is probably why I’m hanging out here in the cold instead of cuddled up with Ollie in front of the fireplace.
As if summoned by our conversation, there’s a strangethunkfurther down the wall, followed by a scraping noise. Several more dull thuds echo in the night.
Anthony and I are immediately on alert, our gazes snapping toward the noises. However, it’s so damn dark that I don’t see anything but inky blackness. I move to the edge of the watchtower while pulling my rifle out and squint into the night.
Something metallic on the wall glints in the moonlight.
What the fuck?
There’s more scuffing sound on the other side of the wall and then a grunt before a dark figure emerges from the other side. Further down the wall, several more people move in the darkness as they appear on top of the wall.
Son of a bitch. They’reclimbingthe fucking wall.
My gut reaction is to aim and fire at them, but I stop myself. As the more tactical side of my brain kicks it, my mind whirls at the possibility of using this. Obviously, one of their plans is to get over the wall, and from how quick and easy these guys are making it look, it’ll be a problem.
“Should we shoot?” Anthony asks, having moved to my side.
I shake my head. “Not yet. Tell the security guys closest to follow them and see what they’re up to. Only engage if they’re a danger to us. Have everyone else on alert in case there are more climbing the walls.”
As Anthony relays my orders on his radio, the figures grab the top of the wall and hoist themselves over the top. There, some of them pause for a moment before gingerly dropping themselves down onto our side, while others have no qualms about throwing themselves down to the ground. Almost immediately those men disappear into the darkness of Haven, but several security team members are already moving to follow. I watch them go before turning my attention back to the wall, scanning for any others.
About ten minutes later, Anthony’s radio squawks. “Suspects have been detained.”
My eyebrows shoot up and I grab Anthony’s radio. “What were they doing?”
“Hiding, by the looks of it. We arrested them before they found better places to stay hidden.”
They were hiding? Why? “Alright. Lock them in the security building and prepare them for questioning.” I hand Anthony his radio back before turning on my heel and throwing myself down the ladder.
My ribs scream in protest, but I ignore them as I stride toward the security building. I would have put them in the cabin with the otherprisoners, but there’s no room with all the traitors and Scourge captives we have, so the unused rooms in the security building will have to do.
Anthony is hot on my heels, muttering orders into his radio so that someone else is in the watchtower. Several security team members hover around the outside of the building, their eyes watchful as they patrol the area. They murmur and incline their heads when they see me approaching.
I nod back and hurry into the building. Two men stand guard on either side of the corridor that bisects the middle of the building. The straighten at my approach.
“Where are they?” I ask.
“Last room on the left.”
“Thank you.” I stride down the corridor and turn the corner to reach the last room.
A man and a woman stand guard on either side of the door, hands poised on their weapons and bodies tense, ready for action. They step away at my approach, with one even opening the door. Light spills out from the small room from the camping torch swinging from the ceiling, causing the shadows to dance across the walls and floor. Several men stand or sit in the small room, all with hoods over their heads and their hands tied behind their backs.
I study them quietly before my eyes land on the smallest of the men curled up in the corner. He’s trembling with his knees pressed against his chest and his face hidden between them.
I catch Anthony’s gaze and jerk my head in the man’s direction. Anthony nods and strides into the room. The sound of his footsteps causes all the men to tense, and the man in the corner lets out a strangled whimper as Anthony grabs him and yanks him to his feet. The sound has some of the surrounding men flinching.
Anthony ignores them and drags the gang member out of the room and into the room across the hall. I slam the door shut on the rest of the prisoners and follow the two men to the other room.
Anthony already has the prisoner kneeling in the middle of the room and is standing behind him, completely at ease. Unlike the gang member, whose body is shaking and jerking with silent sobs.
I nod to him, and with one swift action, he removes the hood from the man. There’s a squeak of shock, the noise muffled by the cloth gag shoved between his teeth and tied around his head. His eyes widen and cloud with terror as he catches sight of me standing in front of him.
Without the hood over his head, I’m able to see the hollows of his gaunt cheeks and his ashen skin. He’s younger than I expected, probably the same age as Ollie or maybe even younger, but his time with the gang hasn’t been kind. Pale scars dot his face and neck, tiny nicks that no doubt came from knives, and a yellowing bruise splashed across his jaw. His clothes are several sizes too big and hang from his too-thin body.
Honestly, I’m surprised he dragged himself up and over the wall with how fragile he looks.
