Only Skeletons Remain

Chapter 18: Spirits in the Dark

The Bandito camp was quiet in the early morning light, a soft haze rising from the ground as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the trees. Miguel sat near one of the campfires, sharpening his blade in rhythmic motions, lost in thought. His mind wandered back to the past year. But even with this new life, there were always whispers of danger, reminders of the looming threat that DEMA still posed.

The crack of a twig snapped him out of his reverie.

Miguel turned to see Gunner approaching, his steps unusually urgent. Gunner was one of the more seasoned Banditos, a grizzled warrior with a sharp mind and an even sharper temper. He wasn't the type to make casual conversation—if Gunner was coming to him, it was serious.

"Miguel," Gunner greeted, nodding curtly. His face was tight, his expression unreadable.

"What is it?" Miguel asked, standing and sheathing his blade. He could tell by the look in Gunner's eyes that this wasn't just about the usual camp business.

Gunner hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. Then he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Keons wants to talk to you."

Miguel's eyes widened in surprise. "Keons?" The name hit him like a punch to the gut. He was the last one Miguel ever expected to want a conversation—especially with him.

Gunner nodded grimly. "He sent word through one of our informants. Says he wants to meet, but it's not what you think."

Miguel's mind raced, trying to piece together why one of the DEMA High Council would want a meeting. "What does he want?"

"To escape DEMA," Gunner said, his voice low but certain.

Miguel blinked, taken aback. "He wants to leave?" The idea of a bishop wanting to abandon the city was almost unthinkable. "Why?"

"Don't know the details," Gunner admitted, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. "But from what I hear, Keons is done with their games. Whatever's going on over there, he's looking for a way out. And he thinks you're the key."

Miguel frowned, his instincts buzzing with both suspicion and curiosity. "And why should I trust him? This could be a trap."

Gunner shrugged, though there was a flicker of something like understanding in his eyes. "Could be. But if it's not, this might be our chance to get someone on the inside. Someone who knows the Council's secrets."

Miguel crossed his arms, his mind spinning with possibilities. If Keons really wanted out, it could be a huge advantage for the Banditos. But if this was a setup, it could cost him everything—including the lives of his people.

"What do you think?" Miguel asked, meeting Gunner's gaze.

Gunner's face hardened. "I think it's risky as hell. But sometimes the biggest risks are the only way to win. If Keons is serious, we can use this. But you'll have to tread carefully."

Miguel nodded, his jaw set. "Where does he want to meet?"

"At the edge of the Neon Graveyard," Gunner replied. "Tonight. He says he'll come alone."

Miguel couldn't help the slight smirk that crossed his lips. "I doubt that."

Gunner's expression mirrored his. "So do I. But if he's making the offer, it's worth hearing him out. You just need to be ready for anything."

Miguel nodded, glancing toward the camp where Lara and the twins rested. His heart tightened, but the strategist in him knew he couldn't pass up this opportunity. If Keons really wanted out, they could get vital intel—or take down one of DEMA's most powerful bishops.

"I'll go," Miguel said, his voice firm. "But I'll need backup. Quiet and close."

Gunner grinned, his eyes glinting with the thrill of a challenge. "I'll have the team ready."

As Gunner turned to leave, Miguel's thoughts drifted to Keons. A tiger among predators, Keons was not one to underestimate. Whether he was desperate, or this was just another one of DEMA's twisted games, Miguel would soon find out.

As day turned into twilight, Miguel spent enough time pondering. He stepped out of his tent, having chosen his Bandito patrol: Gunner, Lara, and Aimee. He turned his attention to one of the older Banditos when they called to him.

"Let me put this on you." She said, putting thick yellow paint on his face, drawing out runes on his skin. "This will keep you protected." 

"Thank you," Miguel whispered, dipping his head. He then turned and began walking over to the patrol, whistling to get them to follow him. 

The sound of rustling leaves and distant wildlife was the only accompaniment to their silent march. Every step brought them closer to the Neon Graveyard, where Keons had asked to meet.

Miguel kept his eyes ahead, his thoughts racing. He knew this could be a trap. Meeting with Keons was dangerous. But if there was even a chance of gaining an ally or getting inside information on DEMA's inner workings, it was a risk worth taking.

Ahead, the twisted, glowing outlines of the Neon Graveyard were starting to come into view, a haunting sight in the distance.

"Miguel," a soft voice called from behind.

He stopped, recognizing it immediately. Lara.

She stepped up beside him, her usual confident demeanor faltering for a moment. Her face was illuminated by the soft glow of the graveyard, and in the dim light, he could see the worry etched in her features.

"You don't have to do this," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You know it's dangerous. You know Keons—he's not like the others. He's clever, and if this is a trap..."

Miguel looked at her, the weight of leadership and the pressure of the decision heavy on his shoulders. "I know, Lara. But we need to take risks if we're going to bring DEMA down. If Keons really wants out, we can use him. And if not..." He paused, his eyes hardening. "Then we'll make sure he doesn't walk away."

Lara stepped closer, her eyes searching his. "Just... come back. Promise me you'll come back."

Her words, so raw and vulnerable, hit him harder than any threat DEMA could throw at him. She was always strong, always in control. Seeing her like this, asking him for a promise, stirred something in him.

"I'll come back," Miguel said softly, his voice steady but filled with an emotion he hadn't expected.

Lara's eyes flicked down for a moment, like she was deciding whether or not to speak, then, without another word, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was soft, brief, but filled with the intensity of everything unsaid between them.

When she pulled back, her face was flushed, and she avoided his gaze for a second before meeting his eyes again. "That's in case you don't keep your promise."

Miguel stared at her, his heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the danger they were about to face. "Lara..."

"Go," she said, her voice returning to its usual strength. "Get this over with."

He nodded, unable to suppress a small, grateful smile. With a final glance at her, he turned back to the patrol. The Banditos who had witnessed the kiss pretended not to notice, but there was a subtle shift in the air—respect for their leader, and maybe for Lara too, for having the courage to show her feelings.

Miguel gestured for the group tostay, and he continued toward the Neon Graveyard, the taste of the kiss still lingering on his lips. As he approached the eerie glowing tombstones and the faint hum of the neon lights, Miguel's resolve only hardened. He could see the coiling mass of fur that had given him his prophecy two years ago. He sucked in a breath and stepped foot into the graveyard.

"Keons, you wish to speak?" He called, feeling the ground tremble beneath his feet as he looked at the bishop.

He was met with Keons' yellow eyes. "Miguel. You are the only one who can save us."