A Darkness Below: Chapter 11

Once again, I have ended up a bit behind of posting a chapter every Tuesday, but I'm here now! Here's the next chapter of my story. Enjoy! As always, upvotes are most welcome, as well as any comments or critiques!

If you're just coming to A Darkness Below, you can check out the previous chapters here:

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

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The rest of the week flew by.

Certainly the report reading and re-typing was drudge work to the extreme, but it hadn’t phased her at all. By the time Friday night rolled along, she was ready to let her hair down and do something other than stare at reports, and it happened to be her good fortune that Daniel was ready with just the solution to her cabin fever. She’d just finished taking a shower and was changing into some non-descript clothes to go for a walk when he came knocking on her door. She tucked an unruly strand of fire-red hair behind her ear as she opened the door to her barracks room.

“Feel like going out and stretching your legs, Maggie?” The grin he wore was charming, and she recalled for a moment why she’d found him so unnervingly attractive. Later, she promised herself; she’d take care of that bit of business later. She replied with a tilt of her head, feigning ignorance.

“Dunno what you’re talking about, Danny-boy,” she said, cocking her arm up against the door and leaning against it, dressed in just the white shift she slept in. To his credit, Daniel didn’t eye her up and down.

“Get yourself dressed in some going-out clothes,” he said, sliding his hands into his pockets. “We’ve got a search-and-destroy mission in Tipperary. I’m sure you read the report from yesterday; apparently the Captain has it on good authority that some of those shadow workers have moved into a boarding house across the river, near the council house. Said to go collect you and-”

“You had me at search-and-destroy, Danny,” she said, lunging forward and throwing her arms around his neck in a hug. He hadn’t been expecting that, and by the time he had the wherewithal to hug back, she’d already bounced back into her room. She threw the shift off her body, standing stark naked in the room in front of him as she rummaged through her armoire for some decent clothes. It took her a second, but she finally decided on some trousers, a button-up shirt, and a leather jacket to keep the cold out. She sat down on the edge of her bed to pull her socks on. “How many did the Captain say were going to be there?”

“He heard it was five of them,” Danny replied, leaning up against the door frame. “Apparently they’re trying to expand their influence west toward the coast, and they want to keep an eye on us in particular. What better place to do it from than right down the road, right?”

“Naturally,” she said, tying her boot laces before hopping back up to her feet. She grabbed a small, black hair-tie and tucked most of her fiery mane back into a ponytail to keep it out of her eyes. Her knife was retrieved and tucked into a specially designed pocket inside the waistband of her pants, and she grabbed five mahogany stakes from the drawer in her desk, tucking them into pockets lining the inside of her jacket.

“You know, you look quite alluring when you’re gearing up for war, Maggie,” Danny said, the grin on his lips translating to his words. She flashed him a dangerous smirk, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Just keep that allure in mind, Danny boy, cause you might get lucky and see more of it when we get back,” she quipped, sauntering across the room to him and laying a decidedly unchaste kiss on his lips. Once again, she caught him off-guard, but this time he was quick with the response, snapping his arm around her waist and pulling her up against him. She allowed it for just the briefest moment before she pried herself out of his embrace. That grin never left her lips as she hurried down the hall to the courtyard door. “Come on! Let’s give these leeches what for!”

Daniel laughed and hurried down the hallway after her, catching up with her on the other side of the door. The evening air had a crisp cold smell to it, and she inhaled it gladly as she turned back to make sure Daniel was following her. Satisfied that he was in tow, she made her way to the motorpool. Standing by the same car he’d picked them up in from the train station was the Taskmaster himself, clad in a plain black jacket, a driver’s cap, and a pair of denim pants worn over a pair of equally plain-looking brown boots. Her expression must have been easy to read, because he flashed her a grin.

“At ease, Sullivan,” he said, sucking down the last bit of smoke from a cigarette before tossing it to the ground and stamping it out. She would have said something, but, unlike her sometimes-lover Daniel, she didn’t have the benefit of exerting any control over Warrick. “I figure tonight would be as good a night as any to go out, and since it’s your first assignment outside of the typing pool, I thought I’d accompany you two. See if you’ve lost your edge hunched over a typewriter.”

“I can promise you I haven’t lost my edge, sergeant,” she said, making a face at him as she pulled open the rear door and slid into the car. Daniel gave Warrick a look, but both men chuckled, and he climbed into the front passenger seat. Warrick hopped into the driver’s seat and started the car up before they made their way out of the castle grounds. Maggie rolled down the rear window and inhaled the scent of fresh air again, letting out a happy sigh as she leaned back against the comfortable seat; tonight was going to be a fantastic night, she figured. After all, she didn’t have to pander to one of those bloodsuckers tonight to get along.

Her mind drifted back to the last conversation she’d had with Jasen, and she furrowed her brows. Much as it caused most of her to recoil in disgust, she couldn’t help the feeling of pity that now ate away at her. Sure, he was a monster; no one was arguing otherwise, least of all the beast himself. There was so much more to it than that, though. Most leeches she ran across were unapologetic and genuinely enjoyed what they were, and she had no compunction about putting them down to keep people safe. Jasen was different though. She had no doubt that, had she freed him, he would have set upon her and drained her dry, but she found herself wondering if he hated that he felt the need to. He didn’t even remember who he was or what he’d done before, and that lack of a connection to his humanity clearly weighed on him.

At least, she suspected as much. Perhaps it was all a ploy; it was possible he was playing her like a fiddle in the hopes of currying some favor or some small measure of compassion to use later. She scoffed at herself for the thought. The last thing she was going to do was release that monster onto the world once again. It had taken her father and his squad to capture him, and only then because he’d had a crisis of conscience prior to the fight starting. She doubted the Order would be that lucky again, and she had no intention of finding out if that would be the case. Tipperary loomed in the distance, and she could make out the lights of the streets and buildings along the river. Putting her previous thoughts out of her mind, she readied herself for what was going to no doubt be a hell of a fight.

Warrick’s face was set in stone as she peeked over at the two men who’d come with her. Daniel was likewise devoid of expression. They’d been at this long enough that they knew how the work went; going into a fight, you cleared your mind of everything - save a prayer to the Lord for speed and fortitude - and focused solely on the task at hand. Maggie was no exception, and by the time they’d crossed the river, she was as stone-faced as her companions.

They turned down a street, heading northeast, before making another turn and spotting the building in question. It loomed in the front window of their Ford saloon, constructed of old stones and topped with a wooden roof that had seen better days. It was only two stories tall, but it looked to have at least six rooms, which would complicate things for them. It was far easier to fight an enemy with preternatural speed and strength, along with other arcane abilities, in an enclosed space; the greater the area to maneuver, the greater the threat they posed.

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Andrei Chira is an anarcho-capitalist, former 82nd Airborne paratrooper, vaper, and all-around cool guy. He's a father to one wonderful little girl named Kate, lives down in Alabama, and spends his time writing stories, posting to Steemit (not as much as he probably should), and cultivating the mental fortitude to make it through three years of law school.