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Chapter 3 - Expelled from paradise (3)

Emil

News of the Red Fang’s intrusion rippled through the crowd gathered at the gates. Everyone froze, stunned with disbelief, unable to move from the shocking announcement. Emil stared at Dale—dumbfounded.

“…How many are there?” he forced himself to speak, struggling to push down the panic rising to his throat.

“I-I think at least a hundred! They’re armed as well!”

Suddenly, he felt light-headed. Emil closed his eyes, grimacing, holding up the side of his head. The day had barely started and already there was crisis after crisis. Bruno’s life was dangling on a thread, and now one hundred armed members of the Red Fangs were marching towards their compound. It was obvious why they were here.

“Emil, I—”

“Shut the fuck up, Raz,” Emil snapped as his eyes shot open. He threw the bloodied bandages in his hands onto the ground and stomped on the remains. Heat rushed to his face. He cursed—obscenities poured out of his mouth like water. His indignation caused his swollen jaws to throb.

Fucking hell! The pain was excruciating, but it helped clear his head. He soon realized that everyone near the gates was staring at him.

As usual, when a crisis arose, it was always him who they turned to.

One thing at a time. He took a deep breath. Panic gnawed at the back of his mind, but he focused on his throbbing jaws to suppress the turbulent thoughts.

“…Dale, get all the sentries to their posts. They’re to be armed and ready,” Emil began, “Raz, get everyone else ready to fight. Set up the barricades. Assume that the gate will be breached.”

He turned to the remaining crowd of children. “Carry Bruno to my place. Mia should be there. Tell her to keep the fever under control and slow down the bleeding. I’ll be there to help right after everything settles down. Come back afterwards and help Raz.”

Emil rushed towards the sentry tower after delivering everyone’s instructions. Behind him, the compound broke into a frenzy as news of the Red Fang’s approach spread like wildfire.

As he reached the top of the tower, Emil’s eyes went wide.

The corridor before the gates was swarmed with Red Fang members. Machetes and knives dangled from their hands. Each of the members were adorned in hard leather with the insignia of a crimson wolf woven onto their sleeves. It was the gang’s signature embroidery. Emil heard that they only wore it when the gang went to war.

Raz, what the hell did you do?!

One of the gang members noticed his presence atop of the sentry tower. In an instant, the entirety of the Red Fangs turned on him. Shivers crawled down Emil’s spine. He shuddered, petrified by the weight of the bloodthirsty eyes bearing down on him.

A sinister voice radiated from the crowd, “I heard that there was a boy with intelligent blue eyes who had Raz on a leash.” It came from an older teenager standing at the rear. Emil struggled to meet his venomous gaze.

“The name’s Elias. You must be Emil,” he said as his eyes burned with hatred.

Even the bigshot himself is here. Elias was the name of the Red Fang’s leader. Emil forced to himself to smirk to feign confidence.

“That’s right,” he replied, barely managing to keep his voice from shaking. Sweat clung to the side of his neck. “May I ask why the Red Fangs are encroaching on our territory?”

“Why?” Elias snarled, “Did that bastard Raz not tell you?!” The sound of Raz’s name immediately threw the Red Fangs into a frenzy. Like famished beasts, they thrashed and growled, slamming their weapons together and stomping the ground, desperate to go wild at a moment’s notice.

“His goons raided our territory this morning! When those bastards were done fucking everything up, I found my cousin murdered in cold blood!” Elias screamed, tears foaming at the corners of his eyes, “Now tell me, Emil—are you still confused why I’m here?!”

Well, shit. Emil clenched his teeth at the revelation. He had a tiny sliver of hope that he might have been able to negotiate their way out of their mess. With the facts laid out, however, it was clear that a peaceful resolution was never on the table.

The Red Fangs were hell-bent on revenge, and they won’t be satiated until their loss was paid back in full.

The ladder behind him rattled. Dale and the other sentries finally arrived. Each of them carried a makeshift crossbow, fashioned from wood, iron and braided rope. Emil took one from Dale, making sure to keep the weapons hidden beneath the scaffolding.

“Get into position. We’re going to fight. Don’t shoot unless I tell you to,” he whispered to the group.

Elias suddenly called his name, “Emil! I’m a merciful man. I’ll give you two options. Option one—bring us Raz and we’ll leave the rest of you alone. Option two—we bust this rotted gate down and slaughter everyone inside.”

“Any chance you’ll be willing to change your mind? How about we trade and barter instead?” Emil asked, trying to buy time for the others to get to their posts.

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“I’m afraid not,” Elias answered, his eyes gleaming with madness, “Now choose!”

In the corner of his eyes, Emil saw Dale flash him the ready signal from the other tower. He closed his eyes. He swallowed his nerves. His heart screamed to his ears. Here it goes.

“I think I’ll choose neither!” he shot up from his spot and raised his crossbow, “Fire!”

Mechanical clanks snapped from the drawstrings of a dozen crossbows. Iron bolts suddenly crowded the airspace, raining down upon the Red Fangs before the gates. The surprise attack was devastating—the bolts shredded the gang members apart like paper.

Emil’s attack went straight at Elias. The Red Fang leader looked befuddled, mouth agape as his men began to fall. Before the bolt could land however, one of the Red Fangs shoved him out of the way. The grunt took the attack head-on as the bolt plunged into their neck.

“Take cover!” Elias screamed while being dragged out of the line of fire.

“Keep firing! Aim to kill!” Emil ordered as he reloaded the crossbow. They had to down as many Red Fangs as possible. Their compound only housed thirty orphans. Half of them were too young and small to put up any resistance against a violent gang. They were severely outnumbered compared to the one hundred strong Red Fangs.

“Shields out! Bring the battering ram!” Elias called over the chaos.

Half a dozen Red Fangs soon emerged from cover. In their hands were massive makeshift shields, affixed together from a mishmash of wood and metal that covered the length of their bodies. Behind the shield bearers, another group marched forward with a giant log.

“Aim at the ones carrying the logs!” Emil cried. He fired a bolt at the Red Fangs by the front of the battering ram. The shield bearers, however, had positioned themselves at the vanguard. The giant shields cut off the trajectory as Emil’s bolt clanked off the surface.

With the formidable shield wall leading the way, the battering ram slowly advanced towards the gate.

“Stop shooting!”

Emil clicked his tongue. They were ready for us. There was no doubt. The battering ram and shields were prepared specifically to breach this gate. The Red Fang’s frequent intrusion on their territory must have been to scout their defenses.

They were always planning to invade. Raz’s raid just gave them justification.

“Dale, Plan B!”

Dale nodded gravely before descending the sentry tower. Emil fired a few more bolts at the battering ram carriers, trying to sneak a few shots through the gaps in the shield wall.

“Emil, I’m ready!”

The battering ram was nearly at the gate.

“Do it!”

The ground suddenly shook at his command.

The path to compound gate was a narrow passage flanked by remnants of scaffolding and partially constructed buildings. Emil had repurposed those remnants into collapsible structures.

The Red Fangs glanced up in horror. A long, ominous creak echoed in the air, followed by a horrible crack as the scaffoldings along the path began to collapse. Wood and stone rained down, threatening to bury the Red Fangs beneath the rubble.

Shrieks of terror filled the air. The log carriers immediately dropped the battering ram and dove out of the way. The shield bearers weren’t so lucky. The bulky shields were difficult to discard and their weight made it impossible to escape with. Nearly all of the shield bearers were crushed.

Dust and debris soon packed the air. Emil narrowed his eyes, examining the destruction.

Ruins of the scaffolds crowded the passage, turning it into a quagmire of rubble. The battering ram was nowhere to be found, presumably buried somewhere beneath the destruction. A few bodies laid lifeless amidst the wreckage. But most of the Red Fangs managed to escape unscathed. The collapsible structures took out far fewer than he would have liked. There were still too many of them left to force the Red Fangs to retreat.

Not good.

They were currently at a stalemate, but for how long? Their supplies were limited. Meanwhile, the Red Fangs were free to stay put and form a blockade. As long as they were patient, Emil couldn’t do anything to stop them.

Elias must have arrived at the same conclusion. He immediately ordered the Red Fangs to move out of the vicinity of the gates. Most of their members lingered at the outskirts, just out of the range of the crossbows.

The Red Fangs began to set up camp. Emil could only watch in frustration.

Now what?

***

“How is he?” Mia asked.

Emil removed the wet cloth placed over Bruno’s forehead. The boy was still unconscious, whimpering something unintelligible. The surface of his skin remained hot, but the temperature had fallen a bit since the onset of his fever.

“I have no idea,” Emil admitted, grabbing a set of bandages, “Maybe he’s getting better. Or maybe his body is just giving up.”

“Emil?!”

Her horrified shriek fell on deaf ears. Emil lifted Bruno’s shirt and continued dabbing at the gruesome incision on his stomach. Mia did a good job. The bleeding had slowed and the wound no longer oozed pus at the slightest of pressures.

“Do we have more bandages?” he asked, tossing aside the dirty one in his hands. A pile of used cloth, stained in red and yellow, were stacked in the corner. The rancid smell no longer bothered him.

“Here,” Mia handed him another batch. Emil continued cleaning until he could no longer see yellow stains.

Should I stitch him up for now? The incision was too deep and wide. Manual intervention was needed to help the wound heal. The issue was whether he had done enough to clean out the infection.

I wish I knew a way to find out. Maybe I’ll apply another coating of ointment just in case. For the stitches, I need a small fire to disinfect the needle. And alcohol—do we have any leftover? I think there should still be some, assuming none of the boys drank—

“Emil.”

“Hmm?” He shook his head; the sound of his name took him out of his thoughts.

“You should take a break.”

Perplexed by the sudden comment, Emil raised his head. Mia was staring at him, frowning. Her eyes quivered with anxiety.

“You haven’t eaten all day, right?”

“I—” his stomach grumbled. Damn. He was outed before he could even think of a convincing lie. As if suddenly aware of its own impoverished state, his body spurred into action. Hunger pangs ravaged his stomach. The side of his head throbbed with a dull buzz.

Emil slumped against the wall, suddenly awash with fatigue.

“Honestly, I can’t remember.”

“You can’t remember because it never happened,” she said, handing him two slices of salted jerky. Emil accepted them without complaint. He sank his teeth into rough texture, savagely ripping the chunks apart. The caustic flavor of oversalted meat flooded his mouth. The flavor was unpleasant, but he ate greedily, trying to ignore the harsh taste as he washed down the chewy bites.

It was nearly evening. More than half a day had passed since the Red Fangs made camp on the outskirts of the compound. Emil kept a few people on rotation to monitor their activities. Several times the Red Fangs were caught trying to recover the buried battering ram. The sentries were ordered to keep them away with the crossbows.

At this rate, we’ll run out of ammunition before food. Without iron bolts for the crossbows, they had no other means of deterring the Red Fangs.

A fight might be unavoidable at this rate. But we still need a way to deal with their numbers—

Footsteps thundered outside his dwelling. Frantic voices cut through the tense silence. A commotion. Soon enough, Emil heard his name being called. Mia rushed to her feet to open the door. Dale was at the entrance.

“The Red Fangs are moving again!”