A Lawless Land

Swift Justice

In swift movements, Queen shot up to her feet and started grabbing as much as she could. She came running out of the unit, the bright headlights of a large vehicle flashed on and stunned her. She held her hand up to shield it, then peeked through her fingers to try seeing who was there. She could only make out silhouettes, but she knew these had to be the soldiers from the encampment.

"Looks like our little mouse took the bait, good job, Jerry," a deep voice said with a laugh.

Queen felt sick. She should've known better, but she had done this to herself. She felt a strong feeling of dread overcome her, though she didn't waver. She tried to look around for Duke and Darren, but they weren't around, so she desperately hoped they had gotten away.

Someone had grabbed her arms from behind, making her drop what she was holding. They took all of her guns and tied her wrists together, forcing her to her knees.

The one who appeared to be their leader, stepped closer and turned her face up, "you do have a lovely face, it's a shame really."

She clenched her jaw and jerked her face away, "what do you want from me?"

He smirked lustfully, "so many things... How long has it been since a man has touched you?"

She glared and stayed silent. She wasn't going to play their games. A semi-truck's horn sounded from outside the gates. Their leader snapped his head in its direction.

"You three, go check it out! You two take her inside!" He barked orders and they scattered.

She heard shouting and shots fired. She broke away and hopped up onto the crates. When they tried to follow her she kicked a crate at them.

Pulling her wrists apart as hard as she could, she broke the cords that bound them together, leaving cuts as a result. She quickly grabbed one of the assault rifles from another crate and loaded it, then started shooting them down.

Trent was the one lying on the ground, half-dead, holding her weapons. She swung the rifle's strap over her shoulder and took her guns back.

"Thanks for holding these for me, you're such a gentleman," she sneered sarcastically, snatching them away.

When she was bent over his body, her dog tags slipped out. Trent squinted his eyes as he looked at them.

"You're a soldier? D-Devereaux? I think I know you..." He started to say.

She took hold of her gun and shot him in the head, killing him instantly. The boss witnessed it as he was approaching her. She spun around and pointed her gun firmly at him.

"Devereaux? That's interesting," they could see each other more clearly now in the bright light of the moon. "People were wondering what happened to you."

"Who? What happened? What do you know about me?" She demanded, a million questions filled her head, but she stood her ground and kept her gun trained on him.

"You really don't remember? He must've hit you in the head harder than we thought," he laughed without feeling.

"Who are you?!" She shouted at him.

"Carlisle. You didn't like being the victim, you tried fighting them off, but he hit you in the head with the butt of his rifle. This all took place during a late night sentry duty, you don't remember?" he smirked, unfazed by her gun in his face.

"Who? Who hit me? And where is the son of a bitch so I can end him?!" She screamed.

"I'd tell you, but this is way more entertaining," Carlisle chuckled cruelly.