Chapter 130: Judgement day...
Charis
How many times do I have to die before the Moon Goddess understands that I get it? How much more pain does she need to rain down on me before she sees the white flag I’ve been waving for years?
When will my life stop being one endless nightmare and become smooth and shiny like the lives of other girls my age?
When will I wake up worrying about which designer dress to wear to the pack gala or whether to get highlights or lowlights for my hair? When will my biggest concern be choosing between a mani-pedi or a facial at the spa, instead of wondering if today’s the day I’ll finally die?
I dream of living like the daughter of an Alpha should. To wake up fretting over dresses and trivialities, to complain about trust funds and argue with my mom about curfew. To get to fall in love with my mate and plan extravagant Joining Ceremonies that cost an arm and a leg.
Instead, my life seemed to be filled with betrayal, abandonment and a one-way ticket to the most notorious prison in the world.
Every path I take leads back to the same pain, every chance at peace I get shatters before it reaches my grasp.
Was I born for torment? Or does the Moon Goddess have a sick sense of humour?
The metal bars of the holding cell felt colder this morning. Today is the day they take me to the Justice Department in Stormrock Pack.
I pressed my back against the stone wall of the holding cell, drawing my knees to my chest. Twenty-four hours ago, Isolde stood in front of me, promising that if I accepted her, she would make this all disappear and give me a new life.
Her words still rang in my ears, but I’d rather rot in a prison in Stormrock than become anyone’s puppet. I am tired of being used as a bargaining chip.
Death before dishonour. That’s what my father used to say.
Headmistress Vale was the first person to come to me. She stood outside the bars of the holding cell, a calm smile playing on her lips as she regarded me.
"I heard you wanted to see me," she started.
I turned to give her a once-over before looking away. "It was nothing," I murmur.
"I trust you’ve had time to reconsider your bad decisions," she continued, "If only you had done as I’d asked you. You think hovering around a Thatcher would give you the covering you need? I told you I was your god here..."
"Headmistress Vale," I called out to her, stopping her midsentence. "If you intend to give me another lecture about redemption and second chances, please save your breath. I’m not interested."
"You stubborn, foolish girl," she scoffed. "Do you have any idea what Stormrock is like? Why would they do to a pretty young thing like you in there?"
"We don’t know yet if I’ll be convicted," I gave her a pointed stare. "There are so many things that are yet to be clear, and until I get a definite judgment, I don’t think you should make speculations. Also, are you trying to scare me, headmistress? Because if you are, you’re about five years too late."
There was a slight pause before she continued. "I heard you had a visitor yesterday. What was it about?"
"You can go ask the people who told you I had a visitor," I retorted. "Can you just leave me alone? Please."
Her face flushed red with frustration. "You think this is a game, Charis! What did you discuss with the woman wearing the wide-brimmed hat? If you don’t tell me..."
I zoned out, watching her mouth move and not hearing her. My life was complicated, and I didn’t want to make things worse.
A while later, heavy footsteps filled the corridor, and two buff men dressed in brown uniforms with an insignia that read ’Justice Department’ appeared.
"Headmistress Vale, is this the convict?" They asked, turning to look at me.
"Yes," Vale nodded. "Eamon Riggs."
"Time to go, Riggs," the tallest among them said, his voice devoid of emotion. I checked his badge, and his name read Luce. He looked like he would rather be anywhere else than here.
Vale took a step backwards as Luce unlocked the holding cell. "This is your last chance, Eamon. What did she tell you? And I can make one phone call—"
"Go to hell."
Luce’s partner, another stocky man with dead eyes, snorted. "Feisty one. That’ll last about a week in Stormrock."
They hauled me to my feet with force, removing the chains in the holding cells that’d been used on me and replacing them with silver chains. As soon as the cuffs of the silver chains clasped around my ankle and wrist, I instantly became weak.
They dragged me out of the cell, towards the reception of the confinement, where a Sentinel was waiting for me.
As soon as we arrived, he started talking.
"Inventory of the convict," he murmured, shoving into a paper sack the clothes I came in, my shoelaces and a container of candy I’d bought. After that, Vale scrawled her signature at her spot without looking at me.
After that, a flat sensor was passed over the cuffs, the ankles, and the Academy’s brand for identification, and it chirped in confirmation.
A nurse from the school clinic comes to check my pulse and pronounces it adequate. After that, Luce’s partner, Baird, came closer and spoke.
"Department of Justice, Stormrock Division. Transfer at zero four twenty-seven. Departure at zero four fifty-five. Prisoner, Riggs, Eamon. Confirm."
"Confirmed," Vale replies, nodding her head.
"Standard transport protocol," Baird continued. "The prisoner would remain fully restrained until delivery to Stormrock’s intake. No stops and no exceptions."
Vale nodded again before the men marched me out of the back, down a service corridor and through a steel door until we emerged to the other side of the confinement centre. It was still dark when we came out, and the weather was so cold that I could feel the cool seeping into my bones.
Somewhere, the big clock at the centre of the school chimed to click into the hour, and the sound made me think of Rhett’s laugh, Kael’s frown and Slater’s understanding.
I swallowed hard, willing myself not to cry.
The transport vehicle is a matte grey, box-shaped vehicle with a narrow slit for the driver and a steel partition separating the rows. I was shoved into the back, which looked like a mini cage with nothing but a bench.
There were no windows, no handles on the doors and no way out except through the guards in front.
Two more vehicles idle ahead of us with light low. It seemed like a lead car and a second transport that resembled the one I was currently in. Behind us was another car, bringing the total to four vehicles.
Wasn’t it too much?
Why was the Justice Department acting like I was a serial killer?
After the door of my cage closed, Luce climbed into the passenger seat while his partner, Baird, took the wheel. The motor grumbled to life, and we began to move.
ETA to Stormrock is four hours," I heard the driver announce. "Roads are clear according to dispatch."
I closed my eyes and tried to find some measure of peace in the darkness behind my eyelids. Four hours to freedom or, at most, to a different kind of cage. Four hours until I may never see daylight again.
Since I couldn’t see anything, I didn’t see the Academy’s gate slowly grow into a speck of nothing, nor did I see the sun breaking out from the morning sky, displaying its beautiful hues.
It didn’t matter again; I’d never see this place again. And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, it hurt so much.
The motion of the vehicle soon hypnotised me, and I found myself drifting in and out of sleep and back to consciousness. We’d been driving for maybe an hour when I heard Baird’s voice cut through my haze.
"Control, this is Transport Seven. We’re approaching Widow’s Bridge. Roads look clear."
"Copy that, Transport Seven," came the cackled reply. "Maintain course and speed."
If we are approaching Widow’s Bridge, it means we’ve left Ravenspire pack and we’re heading to the Kael’s Pack, Silvermere. Widow’s Bridge was their boundary.
I knew it from several discussions between Rhett and Kael; it was nearly two hundred feet above the rushing water below, and they called it Widow’s Bridge because of the fog that rolled off the river, creating an ethereal, ghostly appearance that had inspired countless local legends.
I felt our vehicle begin to climb the gentle slope leading to the bridge. I couldn’t see anything, but I could imagine the morning mist swirling around us. I placed my head on my knees, stifling a yawn while trying to calculate how much farther we had to go.
That was when everything went wrong.