A Most Dangerous Weapon

Chapter 38: Anger Management

I still couldn't bring myself to go back into the barn with all the excitement going on, so I remained outside under the barn canopy by the main door. From here I had the greatest view of the crumbled cottage. Arlo and Loxley had already investigated the dwelling when we first arrived. They said that there was nothing salvageable. I'm sure we had different definitions of the word; perhaps there was one of Jeyne's old play toys or her father's tattered cooking apron among the wreckage. But I was too much of a coward to go see for myself. I was already immensely uncomfortable taking shelter in the barn. I didn't want to bring back any more hurtful memories.

Or so I thought...

My father appears by my side. He wouldn't be here if I didn't mentally call out to him, so I only had myself to blame. He's squinting through the fierce rain to inspect the cottage, clicking his tongue in feigned sympathy.

"I suppose the girl would be long dead by now."

"Don't say that."

"It's a shame that no one took up the farm after all these years. Perhaps the field became infertile the moment it was soaked with her father's blood..."

"He was killed in the cottage, and my father buried him in the grass field out back. Stop being ridiculous..."

He laughs. "Just trying to lighten the mood..."

"This land isn't cursed. It's just abandoned. After everything that's happened during these times of war, it's not uncommon to find empty homes or businesses."

"I suppose, but that doesn't make it any less surprising. Especially when you come across the dwelling of someone you knew. And what's worse, you witnessed the moment when the fate of this place was sealed."

Jeyne calling out her father's name as the caged wagon rolls away. Her small hands reaching out through the bars as the tears streak down her dirty face. The blood pouring out of her father's lifeless body.

My father rubs his fingers across his cheeks and chin, scratching at his stubble in a completely unaffected manner. "Like you said, it's not so uncommon during times of war."

It hurts to say it, but my father was most likely correct on his original statement. "She's probably dead."

He nods. "Most people you once knew seem to be so..."

"Most people I run into these days tend to die as well."

My father looks over his shoulder to take in the crowd that was within the barn. "That doesn't bode well for them, now does it?"

I turn to take in the hoard of gladiators. My gaze lingers on my friends and loved ones. "They know what they've gotten themselves into. They've been warned."

"And you're prepared to die as well?"

"I am."

I find Arrian in the crowd cheering from the second floor attic. My father finds him as well. "I'm surprised you're not taking him up on his offer. After you save Marcus, you could just run away."

I turn back around to block out the fighting. I was more comfortable watching the rain. "I need to end this... it's the only way to get rid of you and regain some sense of ease and sanity."

He laughs. "Are you sure about that? What if you can't get rid of me?"

"I have to try." I frown at my father as he turns back around to watch the rain with me. "And you and I both know that running away from my nightmares doesn't work. I lost too many friends thanks to my last nightmare despite my best efforts to stop it. So why not just face this new horror head on? War waits for me..."