The City in the Storm: (Post Apocalyptic Fiction) (Collision Course Book 3) Read online

  The City in the Storm

  Collision Course Book 3

  R.K. Gold

  Laurèn Lee

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

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  About R.K. Gold

  About Laurèn Lee

  Also by R.K. Gold

  Also by Laurèn Lee

  1

  Jakobe didn't know how long he'd been in the cell, but based on the number of times he took a piss, he knew the guard lied. Could he expect anything else from a servant of Red Eye? The painted Red Eye on the ceiling of his prison cell was a constant reminder of whom he was dealing with. He counted the number of steps it took him to pace—twenty in width and forty in length—there wasn’t much else for him to do except walk and think, or sit and think. There was a small window opposite the cell door, and if he dragged his mattress under it, he could usually jump and grab the bars. On days he had the strength, he could even pull himself up to feel the fresh breeze on his face, which was certainly better than the stale stone scent of the cell. At least Sedi cleaned out his buckets twice a day, so the smell of piss and shit never lingered.

  Robe wasn't coming. He sat on the bed and skipped rocks at the bars. When he started, he had around twenty and was getting pretty good with his aim, but he only had five left. The rest went through the bars.

  "How're you holding up today?" Sedi asked. He waddled more than usual that day and held his hands on his wide gut. He had light brown skin and short dark hair, but that was where the similarities between him and Jakobe stopped.

  "Why do you care? I'm still stuck in my cell, so you're still doing your job," Jakobe replied and fell back on the mattress. "You said Robe was on his way back to see me."

  "The thing about the West is you never really know for sure how long someone's gonna be gone for." He scratched his chin and pondered his statement. Whenever Robe left to report to Red Eye, the silent question of if he would return lingered in the atmosphere.

  "You mean they say a week, and it means death?" Jakobe asked and threw a rock at Sedi. It slipped through the bars and clinked off the stone wall.

  "You want me to bring all these back for ya?"

  "Been working on my aim."

  "You been hitting the targets?"

  "Aiming for the bars."

  "Your aim kinda sucks," Sedi replied and picked up a handful of stones. He brought them to Jakobe's cell along with a canteen of fresh water.

  "Am I ever getting out of here? Be real with me. I've been in here a lifetime." Jakobe rubbed his head, slouched forward and ran his hands over his face. He never knew doing nothing was so exhausting.

  "Six weeks."

  "A lifetime—and if I'm never getting out, just put me out of my misery." The stale scent in the cell intensified, mocking the stillness in Jakobe’s life. Even the air he breathed went stagnant.

  "I already told you, killing isn't really our thing. We just defend the city and let the storm handle the rest." Just saying the word made Sedi nervous. He rubbed his arms and shivered.

  "You've been letting Red Eye and Hammers through for years."

  "He owns the city." A hint of distaste laced his tone. Maybe he felt he could be candid with a prisoner because Red Eye would never know—it was impossible not to feel Red Eye’s presence. His mark was painted on the ceiling of the cell.

  "And the Hammers?" Jakobe shot up and walked to the bars. He grabbed the canteen and took a long sip before splashing half of what was left on his face.

  "You wanna stop the Hammers from crossing, be my guest." The sarcasm was a nice touch. If he threw an insult in there, Jakobe would’ve felt at home.

  "What's the deal with trespassing? How would Red Eye ever know?"

  "Assuming you make it West, which you probably would since we aren't that far from the border, you would stand out like a flare. There's only one passable road to the east, and he would know at once we let you through." Sedi picked up three of the stones and attempted to juggle. He only lasted a few seconds before dropping all three of them. "We can't take that risk."

  "If he spotted me and knew I passed through the city, what would he do? Would he really kill all of you? What good would that do? He needs people out here to watch the city."

  "Plenty of people would be willing to escape the West and defend the city in the storm," Sedi said and leaned against the bars. Jakobe walked to the opposite wall and leaned against the stone under the window. Sometimes he could feel a draft.

  "I thought the West was some sort of promised land. Thought they had some real cities or something." He took another long swig of water. "Why would anyone wanna run away from that?"

  "Red Eye. The only man who could take a paradise and turn it into a prison. Sure, people love the West, but they won't want to live out there if it means they gotta obey his orders."

  "Orders? Is everyone a part of his army or something? I've seen the sorta army his son runs; it's just a way to make gangs feel pretty," Jakobe replied. He took another long sip and put the canteen down.

  "Red Eye is nothing like his son. White Liners are thugs because they only see the wasteland around them. They think if they live in trash, they should act like trash. Red Eye, on the other hand, has the discipline and the rewards to keep his army in check. He has access to the largest clean water source on the planet, and with it, he can move cities. No one in the West would dare defy him because he could cut off their water source like that." Sedi snapped his fingers together.

  "The largest—so not the only?"

  "Of course not the only. For a while, the Hammers had a sizable reservoir that kept them happy. They remained in the north, and Red Eye kept them at bay with a promise of sacrifice. Better to willfully send a dozen offerings than to fight and lose hundreds," Sedi said and picked up Jakobe's canteen.

  "Not if the hundreds dead help eradicate the Hammers."

  "You've never faced a Hammer, have you?"

  "Clive almost sold me to one when I rode with the White Liners," Jakobe said.

  "Robe isn't going to like hearing that."

  "I don't like hearing it either. Can't believe I ever took orders from a man like Clive. Doesn't know the first thing about survival, wouldn't last two seconds if it wasn't for his dad bailing him out all the time. People don't fear the White Liners. They fear their connection to Red Eye."

  "And they always will," Sedi said and stepped away from the bars. He sat on the far wall where Jakobe threw his rocks.

  "What do you mean by that? Even if no one takes Red Eye out, he's gonna die one day," Jakobe replied and walked to the center of his cell so he could look right in Sedi's eyes. Sedi hunched over his crossed legs and poked the cracked stone ground.

  "You think so? You think Red Eye has only been around a couple decades?" He looked up and wagged his finger at Jakobe. Red Eye was around before the contamination spread. He had millions invested in the cure; some say he got the outcome he wanted. Now the world bows at his feet for a right to live."

  "You can't be serious. There's no way Clive's father is o
ver a hundred years old and still this feared."

  "That's the point. Red Eye will never die. Someone in the family will always take his place, and the eye will always imprison the West under its gaze."

  "So you say. If he thinks Clive is gonna continue the legacy, he has another thing coming. Clive's an idiot. The only thing he cares about is his ego. Anyone can get on his good side with some flattery."

  "Is that what protected you from the Hammers? Flattery?" Sedi stood up and brushed his pants off. "I'll be back with some food in a couple of hours."

  2

  Another week passed with more of the same. Sedi brought food and water along with the occasional small talk. His dad moved west when he was younger with the promise of bringing Sedi and his mom but never did. “He probably died, but when I was little, I liked to pretend he was building a kingdom for us and would send for us as soon as he finished the castle. Kinda stupid, I know.”

  Jakobe preferred the days Sedi spoke about himself. They were better than the ones he tried to hear about Jakobe’s life or the ones he justified his imprisonment. "We are doing this for all our protection." He brought Jakobe his last meal of the day, a gray, liquid concoction with ground beef on top and green clumps that didn’t have much taste.

  "Why are you the only one I speak to? Is anyone else even here, or is this some sort of game you play with people passing through the storm?" Jakobe asked and pushed the food away. There wasn't much to begin with, a brown meat he couldn't identify and some greens he didn't trust.

  "You saw our city when you arrived. You were caught trespassing in our park," Sedi replied and looked down at the food.

  "I don't know what I saw anymore. I've been in here months."

  "It hasn't even been two. Robe should be here any day."

  "You keep bringing up Robe, but last I heard he died in the storm. How do I know you're even telling the truth about him?"

  "Because last you heard he disappeared in the storm. That's much different than death." He wagged his long, skeletal finger at Jakobe. He raised his chin, so Jakobe got a good look at his narrow hook nose.

  "Why did he even head west anyway? You say he had to meet with Red Eye, but what for?"

  "He doesn't disclose his reasons."

  "So, he could've just bailed on all of you, and you wouldn't even know," Jakobe said and looked at the food in disgust. He wanted to look on the bright side. He wanted to be thankful for the clean water, regular food, and protection from the White Liners, but he couldn't stay optimistic for long. Comforts only meant so much when he was trapped in a small prison with the same company day in and day out.

  "We know he had to speak with Red Eye, and we know Red Eye would never leave this city defenseless. Even if he were angry with Robe, he would never remove him from this post. If it weren't for Robe, the stepping stones would've been turned into a highway by now, and any hot shot from the East looking for a new challenge would be able to pass through and disrupt the West."

  "Doesn't sound so bad to me. Why should the West get to survive unchallenged when so many people in the East have to go days without food and water? Just cause they were born on the right side of the storm divide, they should get to live in comfort?"

  "Not everyone in the West lives in the comfort you're imagining."

  "But even the most downtrodden westerner lives a better life than most of us east of the divide. I had to head west because my only other option for survival was laying low in one of the original dumping sights. Clive wanted me dead, and the only place he won't go is the wastelands." Jakobe stood up and wobbled to the bars. He was lightheaded from standing up to fast and rubbed his forehead.

  "That's what you truly believe?"

  "That's what I know."

  "Then this is your only taste of imprisonment. You may have dealt with fear and misery back east, but did you ever lose the right to make your own decisions?" Sedi’s cheeks puffed out. He looked ready to burst.

  "I was barely a teenager when the White Liners raided my village and killed everyone." Jakobe needed to push Sedi back. He was locked in a cell; he couldn’t afford to cower or come across any weaker than he already was.

  "Yet you survived." Sedi bounced a rock toward the bars, and it directly smacked the center one. "I practiced when I was bored too."

  "I survived because Clive took pity on me, or thought it would be amusing to take me away."

  "You survived; it's okay to admit it. You made a choice others didn't. Every decision you made to lead you here was your own. You told me you chose to leave Lyo and your family. You—"

  "I was tied up in a ditch while Clive waited to trade me to a tribe of Hammers," Jakobe interrupted. Sedi nodded.

  "That's a taste of what the people in the West deal with under the rule of Red Eye. Imagine spending every day terrified that if you misspeak, if you misstep, if you do anything Red Eye disapproves of, you run the risk of being imprisoned and eventually traded to the Hammers."

  "And the West just lets Red Eye keep control? Even if he has an army, there's no way it's large enough to stop everyone."

  "If everyone shared one mind, sure they'd be dangerous. But everyone is willing to sacrifice thousands as long as they're the lucky ones who live. They're more than happy to be brave without consequence, but that's just not how things work. You want to talk about a full-on assault of Red Eye? The only way that would work—"

  "Is if every last soul in the West took up arms against him," a deep voice said and entered the room. He wore a long blue robe that came down to his feet and a hood that covered the top of his head. He had dark brown skin, large brown eyes, and a pointed jaw with a scar on it.

  "Told you he'd be back soon." Sedi pushed his back against the wall until he slid to his feet and held out his hand. "Any news from the West?"

  "Too much. It'll all be discussed with the council this evening. My top priority, though, is dealing with this one." Robe crossed his arms and walked toward the cell. "I was told you rode with my brother."

  "I was told you're dead." Jakobe stood up and walked toward the cell door. He straightened his back, trying to steal a couple extra inches as he stood toe to toe with Robe.

  "Came close a few times." He flashed a wide smile. He was missing a bottom tooth. "I think Lyo knew deep down I never died. It was just a lie he told himself for being too scared to enter the storm."

  "He had no issue chasing me through it."

  "Clearly I did something wrong. How did you get my stubborn little brother to cross the threshold?" Robe curled his hands around the bars and pressed his face to the door, his unusually sharp chin poking through.

  "Stole from him."

  "He never did like to share. So you're a thief. Not surprised. Just about everyone who passes through here is a thief in some way or another. Either stealing supplies or stealing a few extra years on their lives."

  "And what're you stealing?" Jakobe asked.

  "Not a damn thing. I'm mayor of this city. I facilitate; I never participate." He grinned at his rhyme. "So, you want to make a case to be released and be allowed to head west. Outside of saving your skin, why should I let you pass?" Robe leaned back.

  "What do you mean? What better reason is there than that? Why did you leave the East if not to save yourself?" Jakobe gripped the bars tighter. The man who controlled his destiny was inches away, and he could do nothing but beg or reason with him. All he wanted to do was reach out the cell and yank the side of his head against the metal until he was unconscious.

  "I left the East, but I never went to the West. I've been stuck in this city ever since, maintaining the balance at the border. You think people are trying to escape to the East? They leave the West in droves. The East loves to have a little paradise where they can imagine all their problems would go away, but the West is far worse."

  "I'm sure—having endless food and water at the cost of obeying someone you never have to see sounds awful." Jakobe folded his arms and leaned against the wall. The way Lyo and the oth
ers revered Robe, to the point where they couldn't even say his name, made Jakobe think of him as some sort of god. Now standing before him he just saw a coward who couldn't make a decision in his life and ended up stranded in the middle. "At least Lyo made a choice."

  Robe quirked an eyebrow and looked back at Sedi. Both men seemed confused by Jakobe's response. "You do remember who holds the keys to let you out, right?"

  "You and the council." Jakobe looked at his feet, angry at himself for being so careless. He always let his temper get the best of him. It was why Forte would be always able to get under his skin. Why he would throw punches even though it felt like there wasn't a person alive who couldn't beat him in a fight.

  "Let him out of the cell; give him a proper bed for the evening. One of the council members can house him. We'll hear his case tomorrow," Robe said and walked away before Jakobe could reply. Sedi walked over with the keys jingling at his side and unlocked the door.

  "Just like that, I'm free?" Jakobe asked.

  "Define ‘free.’ Out of the cell, yes. Wouldn't go running in either direction though," Sedi replied.

  "Wouldn't dream of it. By the sound of it, no matter where I go, someone will wanna kill me. Maybe I'm safest in a cell," Jakobe was half-joking, but Sedi nodded along like it was the most rational thing he'd ever heard.

  3

  Sedi led Jakobe to the washing quarters and left him new clothes. "You reek," he said and closed the door behind him. The quarters were large enough for at least a dozen people to wash at once, but Jakobe was relieved to have the place to himself. It was a short but wide hut with a thatched roof and stone walls. He walked to the pool in the center of the hut and splashed the water on his face and body, scrubbing under his armpits and between his legs. He could feel the crust coming off. He no longer heard dry dirt crack when he bent his joints.