Miscreants: Next Generation by Natalie Bennett (essential reading .txt) 📗

All of it had been for nothing, but that didn’t matter much when the irreparable damage was already done. In this situation, was it better to say nothing at all? I looked at my lap, wishing I could go back to the exact moment we wound up on this crash course.

“You have nothing to say?”

His tone gave nothing away, and he still wouldn’t look at me.

“I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I had too much to apologize for.

It wasn’t just him I owed an apology to. My regrets were vast and plenty, as was my anger, but not for the reasons one might think. I was sorry I hurt those that cared about me the most. I was angry about the betrayals and suffering endured on both sides of the metaphorical line. I mourned all the hearts I broke.

Theirs.

His.

Mine.

“Nothing is right.”

I leaned my head against the window, not bothering to ask where we were going. From the aches and bruises on my body to the ones on my soul, it all hurt. There was no one to blame for this other than myself. I don’t know why I made a habit of fucking my life up.

I’d become a wrecking ball on legs, single-handedly wreaking havoc on anyone who got too close to me.

Samael was far from perfect, but he didn’t deserve this.

I wasn’t worth it.

PART TWO

So is this a path of glory

Or a dead end to a lonely saddened story.

Sadistik

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

My curiosity gave me something other than the suffocating silence to focus on. We’d been driving for a solid two hours with me still having no idea where we were or where we were going. It couldn’t be the lodging site. We would have gotten there by now.

Trees began to take shape on either side of the road. Samael slowed and took a right turn, driving onto a dirt path I had failed to notice.

I wondered how he knew this road existed but didn’t dare to ask. The terrain went from smooth to uneven. All I saw was woodland. Samael drove deeper into it, taking the Brabus cautiously around a sharp bend. I began to feel a little nervous.

“What are we doing here?”

“Isn’t this a good place to hide a couple of bodies?”

I crossed my arms and made a point to look out the window. He went around another bend, and then the terrain sloped slightly down. There was a clinking noise from the back end of the SUV and a sudden noticeable resistance, like something had gotten caught.

I leaned forward and squinted at the side mirror, unable to see anything due to how dark it was. The clinking turned into the sound of something being dragged.

“Don’t you hear that?”

“It’s Knox.”

“Knox…?”

I trailed off, momentarily forgetting all about him. Samael took another turn and was now heading straight towards a massive structure that a small crowd of people lingered outside.

There were lights strung from the main building—which looked an awful lot like an old barn—to the one somewhat behind it. The large insignia painted on each building gave away the fact that this place had existed for some time.

Everyone turned to watch the two-vehicle procession as it rolled by. Samael veered to the left and pretty much coasted the Brabus into a parking spot. The second followed his lead. He switched off the ignition and then got out, coming around to open my door for me.

It wasn’t done from a sense of chivalry.

I unhooked my seatbelt before he got to my side of the car.

He grabbed me none too gently, not letting go even after my feet were on solid ground. I took the few second he gave me to look around, noticing that some of the people outside were donning the near black proselyte robes and the rest were wearing regular clothes.

“Let’s go.”

Samael took hold of my elbow and started walking towards the larger of the two buildings. Hearing the other set of car doors slam, I looked back in time to see Takara, Poet, and Cherry being ushered out of the SUV by Amo of all people.

I also got a look at what was hanging from the back of not only Samael’s ride, but Amo’s too. When he’d said it was Knox a few minutes ago, he’d been being literal. Well, at least, it was what remained of Knox.

From the Brabus’ hitch, a thick chain extended and wrapped around Knox’s legs, binding them together.

His head had been sloppily severed along with his right arm. What remained was three mangled limbs and a skinned and bloodied torso. The second vehicle had one mere leg leftover from whichever Roboy had been attached to it.

I’d dozed off when Samael went back inside the farmhouse and missed him dragging Knox out. I must’ve been more exhausted than I initially thought to have slept through that whole spectacle. I found that to be disturbing. Not what he’d done—me sleeping while it happened.

As we headed towards what I could now see was a house of sorts, the people lingering about were all quick to get out of the way. I caught a few insignias, but they weren’t all the same.

“Welcome back, our liege,” a woman greeted as we passed her.

Liege?

Samael didn’t respond, but I knew he’d heard.

We entered the building through a side door, stepping into an open concept floor plan. The ceiling was high, made up of thick wooden beams the same color as the floor. Everything about it seemed to be a step up from the lodges. From outside appearances, I wasn’t expecting that.

Three people were inside, and two of them were sporting head masks while the other only wore a robe. It