Rebels

Ch. 29

"It has been a festive time over the course of these past three days!"

The crowd went wild, cheering as if they had never done so before. Some held up drinks, which spilled over the rim of their cups onto Jack.

"Now, let us not forget the final festivity! As we head into this next week and perform our regular duties, let us not forget about these four lads, who have been chosen with great honor to end the ceremony."

Jack peered up at the four men, all of whom seemed unconscious. A guard was assigned to each of them, holding them upright. The crowd went silent, seeming to pay their respects, though the men were unconscious.

A large, bulky man stepped forward, holding a knife the side of Jack's arm against his side.

"Let this be a lesson to you all as we go about our daily lives. From the King himself, he has instructed me to tell you all to be safe, do not make bad decisions, and work hard." He then mumbled something to the large bulky man, who nodded curtly. He then took no hesitation and sliced all four of the men's throats open, and Jack turned away. He suddenly regretted leaving the house. He began to make his way back, seeming to have lost his breath. He pushed past people who were clapping enthusiastically, and it made him sick. He wanted to be as far away as he could from the people around him. He began to run, bumping into people's shoulders and dodging them all

When he got to the home, he abruptly stopped. He couldn't breathe, and his chest felt tight.

The door opened in front of him, and he was pulled in by Lyla.

He stumbled over to the dining table, all of the air rushing too suddenly into his lungs, causing him to choke.

Lyla locked the door shut behind him. She stomped angrily towards Jack, crossing her arms. "You have got to stop doing this!" She said.

When she noticed Jack was breathing heavily, she shifted her weight. "What happened, now?"

"T-the festival... What was this festival celebrating?" He asked, his thoughts mixed.

Lyla took a moment to think. "If today is what I think it is, then it was the festival of..." Her voice trailed off. She paused, before speaking once again. "It was the celebration dedicated to the King."

"Shit." Arin mumbled, drowsy from his sleep.

"Lyla, I saw them kill four men. They were captives, Lyla. And they cheered as if someone had just performed something miraculous!"

Lyla bit down on her lip. "I know. The festival started two years ago, and that's what they always do to wrap it up. But Jack, it's okay. Just catch your breath, and we can move on from this."

"Can we?" Jack asked.

"I don't feel good." Arin said, breaking the conversation. Both Jack and Lyla turned towards him, and Arin's figure was ghostly.

Lyla grabbed all of the sedatives from the table. She ran over to Arin, who grabbed three of them and swallowed them with shaking hands.

Arin blinked multiple times, shaking uncontrollably. He grabbed the rest of the sedatives from Lyla and swallowed them, knowing that just three wouldn't work on him.

They waited nervously, and sure enough Arin's pulse slowed. His shaking slowed to a minimum, and soon he fell asleep.

Lyla turned to Jack. "He shouldn't have taken eight."

Jack begged to differ. "Lyla, I would argue with you on that. The man's mind shuts down. His body's nerves, strength, everything seems to multiply by ten! If he didn't take all of those sedatives, he'd be cutting your throat out right now."