Bad Seed

Elsa woke from a doze to find the Blood Wolf looming over her in the faint light. Before she could utter a word, his hand covered her mouth. He brought a finger to his lips. When he leant in close, his breath fanned her ear. “Listen.”

She slid away from him, and Noak let her go easily.

“Can you hear them?”

Elsa tilted her head. Dogs.

“Come on.” He pulled her to her feet.

Outside, the barking had grown in volume. Voices had joined the uproar. Guards shouted directions at each other as they searched the nearby jetties in the crumbling, half-sunken port.

“I thought Roan said they didn’t search these old piers,” Elsa whispered.

“Do you want to take the chance?” Noak asked.

Elsa shook her head. “What should we do?” She looked between the door and the window. “Should we run?”

“Can you?” Noak asked. “Do you think you’re fast enough to outrun both the guards and their dogs?”

He didn’t wait for her reply. They both knew she wasn’t. The Blood Wolf crouched and pulled at the rotting boards on either side of a small hole, widening the gap.

“Quick. Down here.”

Elsa’s stomach dropped. The hole was big enough to admit the Blood Wolf with little room to spare. Below, she could see nothing, but deep, dark lake water.

She wiped her clammy hands on her trousers. “No.”

The Blood Wolf collected the blanket and food sack. He carried his pack to the hole. “We have no other choice. Once the dogs have our scent it will be difficult to escape.”

Her fear made her stubborn. “I don’t care. I’ll take my chances. I’m not going down there.”

“What are you afraid of? The water?”

“Yes.”

She waited for him to yell at her, or to tell her how ridiculous she was. She waited for him to insist they had no time for silly fears.

“What about the water scares you?”

“I won’t be able to touch the bottom,” she said. “I’ve never been fully underwater before. I’ll drown.”

The sound of frantic barking was so close she expected the door to fly open at any minute.

“You can’t swim?”

“I’ve never needed to learn.”

The guards had reached their jetty. She heard them on the platform and felt the wood beneath her vibrate and groan with each heavy footstep. The Blood Wolf stepped towards the hole and fastened the pack to his back with sure movements.

“You must decide now, Elsa. You must choose whether to trust me, like I’m trusting you.”

“And if I can’t?” She asked.

He sat down on the edge of the hole, legs dangling into nothing.

“I’ll ask you not to reveal my location to the guards or tell them my plan. I promise I’ll find you again.”

He lowered himself over the edge, until his fingertips became his only connection with the floor. He hung for a moment, suspended above the water, and released his hold. Elsa heard a splash below. Outside the dogs arrived at the door. They scratched at the thin barrier and whined their frustration.

She’d run out of time. Elsa had moments before the decision would be taken from her. She looked between the entrance and the hole.

“Get that damn door open!” A guard shouted.

Elsa made her choice. Her whole body shaking, she sat and pushed herself over the edge. She fell into the abyss. The icy water engulfed her. It was closer than Elsa thought. She panicked, releasing the air from her lungs. Her boots dragged her down and Elsa sank, flailing, frantic and useless.

A thick arm went around her waist. It pulled her to the surface. She broke it, gasping. The arm, her lifeline in the dark, pulled her away from their entry point, deeper beneath the building. They reached a crosshatched support. Noak wedged his foot in the v-shaped gap between two connecting beams and pushed her against one of these posts.

“That’s it,” he whispered in her ear, “breathe.”

Elsa tried to catch her breath and to slow her frantic heartbeat. She tried to stop shaking.

“Hold on to the metal,” he instructed, wiping her hair from her eyes. “I won’t let you go.”

Elsa grasped the slick beam and tried to keep the panic at bay. She focused on his arm around her waist and the rest of his warm body supporting her in the cold water. Noak stared at the patchy floor above them, their cheeks close enough to touch. Elsa moved her head further away and his gaze dropped to meet hers.

“We need to be quiet,” he said, voice rough. “And still.”

The door burst open above them. Blazing torches filled the room with bright light.

“Search everywhere,” a guard ordered.

Two sleek dogs bounded into the room. They sniffed the floor, bumping into the cabinets and loudly knocking over the chair, their claws scratching at the wood above Elsa's head. Their barks rose in pitch when they picked up the scent. The dogs scrambled around the room, searching for the trail. They jumped up against the windowsill and ran back to the door. Finally, they sat, whining at their masters.

“Check beneath the floor.”

The furthest guard shone his head torch into each of the holes. When he reached the slender gap over their heads, Elsa held her breath. Behind her, Noak shifted and pulled a knife from his belt. In the approaching beam she caught the cold determination in his eyes.

“What have you found?”

The torch beam froze. Elsa peeked up through a gap in the floorboards and saw Melker standing in the doorway. She forgot how cold the water was, or that she was only an arm away from drowning. Suddenly, she feared more than anything that Melker would find her here.

“I want some answers,” Melker said. “Are there Smokers here or not?”

One of the guards approached him and handed him a bundle. “Someone was here. We found this.”

Melker shook out Elsa’s red coat. He touched the front where the buttons were missing. His hand became a fist.

“Bring me the informer.”

The guards jumped to obey. Moments later, they dragged a Smoker into the room and threw him onto a chair. He wore the dirt-covered overalls of a plantation worker. A guard loomed over him with his torch.

“I don’t understand,” the Smoker said. “What’s happening?”

“Shut up.” The guard thrust the lamp into the man’s face and the Smoker shrank back, shielding his sensitive eyes with his hands. The Bad Seed tattoo on his wrist was black and obvious in the light.

Melker advanced on the man with Elsa’s jacket bunched under his arm. “You said you heard voices?”

“Yes. Yes. I told you everything I know.”

“A man and a woman arguing on a jetty in the forbidden part of the Night Port, that’s what you told the patrol that found you.”

“That’s what I heard,” the Smoker said.

“What were they saying?”

The Smoker hesitated. “They were arguing quiet-like. I couldn’t make out the words. But they were here.”

“You didn’t see them?”

“I- uh.”

A guard spat on the ground. “I think he’s trying to trick us, so he can get the reward,” he said. “I think there was never anyone here and he’s made the whole thing up for a free meal.”

Melker didn’t offer Elsa’s coat as evidence to the contrary.

“No, I would never do something like that,” the Smoker said. “I don’t want a reward, honest. Someone was here. I heard voices.”

“There’s no one here now,” Melker said.

“But they were, I promise. They must have left.”

“You were found breaking curfew,” Melker said, “a very serious offense. Despite my better judgement, you convinced me you had information to exchange for your freedom. Now, I find you were lying, wasting my time.”

The man stammered, “I never lied. I- I swear.”

“Just why were you here?” Melker asked. “This part of the port is off-limits to your kind.”

Elsa imagined the man’s face turning pale, the sweat beading on his brow and his heart racing. She felt sick.

“I ah, I was—”

“And he had no lantern, either,” a guard added.

“Maybe he’s one of the Smokers we’re looking for?” The other guard put in. “Why else would he be so secretive?”

“I wasn’t involved in the attack,” the man said, “I swear. I wasn’t anywhere near the Guardhouse at the time, I was working above, in the plantation. Ask my master, he’ll tell you.”

“That doesn’t explain why you were breaking curfew,” Melker said.

“I was—I was lost, that’s all.”

Melker let the silence hang long and heavy. Finally, he blew out a deep breath and said, “I think we need to take this man back to the Guardhouse for further questioning, and maybe bring in his family to verify his story.”

“No!” The man cried. “Okay, okay. I was fishing off a jetty further along, that’s why I didn’t tell you. That’s how I heard them.”

“Where’s your gear?”

“I threw it in the lake when I heard the guards coming.”

“The lake belongs to the Citizens of Haven,” Melker said. “Or perhaps you’ve forgotten the mark you wear?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten.”

“Perhaps he needs another mark to remind him?” A guard suggested.

“I’m sorry,” the Smoker said. “Please, just let me go.”

“Let you go?” Melker laughed. “You’re a poacher. A thief of the lowest kind!”

“No,” the man pleaded. “I’m not a thief. I would never normally fish in the lake, but you’ve closed the Night Port and the price of food has tripled. My wife, she’s sick. We’re starving. I didn’t think you’d notice a few missing trout.”

Melker’s voice was a sharp weapon. “You’re Bad Seed. Your suffering is part of your punishment, you know that.”

“Please, have pity.”

Melker took out the knife from his belt and handed it to the guard. The Smoker tried to break from the guards’ hold. “No!”

“Order must be maintained,” Melker said.

“I just want to go home.”

“To release you would be to let evil fester and grow, like some uncontrollable germ cell.”

The Smoker suddenly spoke with anger. “Darkness take you! You’re all leeches, sucking a man dry. Go on, do your worst. You’ve taken everything else from me—my food, my light, my dignity—I have nothing!”

Melker turned to the guards and nodded.

There were no more defiant words. “No, please! I’ll never do it again. Please!”

Melker no longer listened. He addressed the guards waiting at the door.

“Double the patrols around the lake.”

The two guards waited until their captain was gone before exacting their punishment. Elsa watched through a warp in the boards as they held the man down and forced his hand onto the table. The sharp knife glinted in the light and on seeing it the man increased his struggles. When the carving began the man screamed loud enough to wake the Darkzone, but there wasn’t a single person who would come to help him. Elsa didn’t help him either. She looked away and buried her head into the Blood Wolf’s chest. Noak covered her ear with his free hand, but it wasn’t enough to block out the man’s cries.

***

Elsa’s whole body shook. Her teeth chattered and she murmured the same strange sentence repeatedly, about a black bug and a white cup.

He didn’t know what these words meant, only that he had to get her out of the water. Noak nudged her with his shoulder.

“We need to move,” he said.

She tilted her head towards him, and her tears made him swallow his remaining words. Noak wanted to comfort her, but there was nothing he could say to make her feel better. Words couldn’t undo the violence she’d just witnessed. He knew from experience that some acts couldn’t be unseen or forgotten. All he could do was get her away from here.

“Hold onto the post a moment,” he said. “I’m going to let you go.”

Elsa pressed her face against the metal beam and tightened her hold. After another bout of violent teeth chattering, she said, “I’m ready.”

Noak removed his arm from her back and felt a slight jolt of panic go through her.

“I’m still here.” He reassured her. “Even if you can’t see me, I’m only an arm’s length away.”

“I know, please hurry.”

He used the beam to boost his body up to the floor and hoisted himself over the edge. A minute later he hung over the side.

“Give me your hands.”

Noak could just make out her shape in the dark. He heard her indrawn breath. Her pale fingers stretched upward. His hand closed around hers. “Now let go.”

She didn’t move.

“Elsa?”

“Just give me a second.”

She took another deep breath and a moment later, released her grip. Noak held her as she dangled waist deep in water.

“Don’t drop me,” she said and reached up with her other hand to grab hold of his wrist.

Noak pulled her back into the room. Sodden and breathless, Elsa lay limp for a moment, half on him and half on the floor. Then she scrambled to her feet. Noak followed her to the man slumped across the table.

The Smoker’s face had deep, weathered lines around his eyes. Grey dominated what little hair was left on his head. Noak turned the man’s arm over and studied his wound. The flow of blood had slowed, but his hand was a mangled mess. They’d carved the letter P deep into his flesh.

“He’ll be in a lot of pain when he wakes.”

“The pain will be the least of his problems,” Elsa said. “With an injured hand he can’t work. His whole family will suffer because of this.”

Noak picked up the man’s left hand, which hung limp at his side, and inspected the tattoo on his wrist. He reached over the unconscious body to gather Elsa’s hand. He held it in a loose grip and was relieved when she didn’t draw it back. He compared the two tattoos.

“Identical images. Different numbers. What did the captain mean when he said suffering is part of your punishment?”

Elsa turned her face away from him, away from the faint light from the Night Port and into the shadows.

Noak pushed further. “I thought it was something to do with being a Smoker, but it’s more.”

She pulled her hand from his grip, suddenly cautious. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t like surprises…and maybe I’m a little curious.”

“Well, I’m not a riddle,” Elsa said.

“Are you in trouble? If you are, I need to know. I don’t want it affecting our escape from this place.”

Elsa stepped away. “It won’t.”

She turned her attention back to the man between them. “I want to make him more comfortable.”

“We should go. There isn’t time.”

“We’ll make time. I’m not leaving until it’s done.”

Noak dropped his wet pack and searched through the contents. “I’ll do what I can to help. After though, he’ll have to find his own way home, we don’t have time to wait for him to wake.”

He drew out his water canister and a waterproof canvas bag containing some rags. “Here. Take these. Do what you can.”

Elsa crouched alongside the man and began cleaning the wound, her efficient strokes telling him she’d done this before. She finished her job and rocked back on her heels. Her gaze strayed to the knife at his side.

“What?” He asked.

“Would you have done it? Would you have killed those guards?”

Noak gestured for her to swap sides. He bandaged the wound with deft movements. “I would have done what was necessary.”

“And that includes killing?”

Noak wished he could give her a different answer. “Sometimes, yes.”

Elsa studied the faded scars decorating the unconscious man’s arms. “I hate the guards, like everyone in the Darkzone, but I don’t think I could kill them. There was a moment in the Guardhouse where I almost hurt someone to buy myself some time, but I couldn’t do it, and I don’t believe I could have taken his life either.”

Noak tied the bandage’s ends together. “How can you be sure? What if you’d gone ahead with your plan and this man had tried to kill you? Or the other guards had attacked you, as they no doubt would have if you’d injured their friend?” Noak shook his head. “You never know the dark things you’re capable of until you have to make that choice.”

“I still don’t believe I could, not intentionally anyway.”

Noak straightened and collected the blood-soaked rags. “Then it’s a good thing I’m the one with the knife, not you.” He threw them down a hole in the floor. “Are you ready to go?”

Elsa took one last look at the man and nodded.