Rise Of The Scoundrel

6. Intrusion

Asher woke up to the sound of screaming.

He thought he was waking from a nightmare, the auditory remains still lingering in his mind. The noise coming from outside his walls proved otherwise, however, so he launched himself out of bed and raced out of his unit.

Blight Hounds. It must be.

But he was wrong.

Instead, he watched in horror as people in Garrick uniforms walked the cobblestone of the market, their emotionless faces scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. They walked with a purpose, their hooded heads covered from the early morning mist. Cloaks flowed behind them as their hefty books splashed through shallow puddles from the previous night's shower. They tore open the doors of homes and businesses without a care or knock. Heavy but well-tapered padding softened the pathetic blows that came from those inside who were trying, however pointless it was, to defend themselves and their families.

Asher had slowly crept to the bottom of the staircase, careful not to bring attention to himself. It seemed their current focus was the homes and businesses along the market. They had yet to turn their sights to his apartment and the others around him. He walked closer to the market, careful to stay low and conceal himself behind a few stacked crates outside a clothing stand.

He had expected a blood bath, villagers being attacked whether it was by Blight Hounds or something else. It seemed so far all the Garrick members had done was scare everyone to death. That he felt he could forgive. It wasn't as though the concept of these people hadn't frightened villagers before.

The only time Garrick members were spotted in their village was in passing. They were seen on an annual basis when they escorted new CKs to their temporary homes, and then occasionally standing around their outpost at the village gates, but nothing more. Some other villages were the complete opposite. Unlike Haven, they had the mentality of every man for himself. Unauthorized travel between villages, not going to work, or failing to pay your dues to the Capitol would bring punishment, and it was a Garrick member's job to carry it out.

A bellow of agony echoed through the market, bouncing off walls and sending a chill through Asher. His teeth were chattering and when he clenched his jaw in an attempt to stop it he failed. Anxiety continued to wrack his body even as he breathed deeply, trying to slow his heart rate. His breathing halted entirely, however, when a particular figure rounded the corner.

A Garrick member was dragging a young woman, around Asher's age, down the ally by her ankles. She fought with all her strength, which wasn't much, kicking her legs in an attempt to free them and reaching for anything she could grab hold of. The Garrick member's brow was furrowed, but he was physically unphased by her protesting. He dragged her around him, releasing her with a toss she landed harshly face first.

It was Mr. Mitchell's daughter, Dawn. That bellow from earlier sickened Asher further realizing that it had been his old friend's voice, crying in anger for his daughter.

"Get up and walk," the man commanded her, his eyes unsympathetic as she lay on the ground before him. She slowly raised her head, slightly dazed by the landing. Her hair had fallen into her face, but Asher could still see the cut that ran across her forehead, small debris having sliced into her skin. He sat there frozen as she struggled to get to her feet, and he bit his tongue when the man above her barked for her to move faster. Eventually, the man's impatience got the better of him and he dragged her up by her hair. 

She grabbed his wrist reflexively and let out a cry, tears trickling down her cheeks. "I'm up, I'm up!" she said hoarsely. Her shaky legs took on her weight as the man released her hair, shaking the newly freed strands out from between his fingers. The wind carried them away as they began walking forward.