Chapter 28. The Problem With People Part 2

  Wilkes and Liu approached Brad’s group, with Raven right behind them. He wasn’t about to miss whatever bullshit excuse Brad had for showing up now.

  As they approached, Raven scanned the group and felt something off. Some of the men who had been with Brad last time were missing. A few new faces stood in their place—thinner, wearier, with the same desperate edge as the larger crowd behind them. Had they abandoned some of their own? Or had the world already taken them?

  Wilkes came to a stop a few meters away, his face neutral. “Hello. How can we help you?”

  Brad’s gaze flickered toward Raven as if the sight of him had thrown him off balance. He hesitated just a little too long before speaking. “We’ve come seeking refuge.”

  Raven almost laughed. The sheer audacity of it.

  Brad continued quickly, like he was afraid to lose momentum. “We rescued a group recently who told stories about a hero saving them from slavers and rapists. They said that he told them the hospital was safe, so we came to see.”

  Wilkes nodded slowly; his expression unreadable. When Brad finished, he responded with the obvious: “Well, as you can see, the place is already pretty full. What are you bringing to the occasion?”

  Brad stiffened at the unexpected pushback. He had expected charity, not conditions. He opened his mouth but said nothing.

  The silence stretched until Sky stepped forward, desperation clear in her voice. “Please, you have to take us in. Things are bad out there.” She glanced at the crowd behind them. “Some of us have skills. We’ve been collecting traits and sharing them out, but we keep losing people.”

  Wilkes’ face went blank. Raven had seen that expression before—it meant he was thinking, hard.

  Brad, sensing the hesitation, found his confidence again. “We’ve got a healer,” he said, almost triumphantly. “If you let us stay, she can help everybody.”

  Wilkes visibly tensed. So far, only Carter had shown any healing potential. To have another, in a place where medical care was the difference between life and death, was a huge deal.

  “Well, that’s definitely something,” Wilkes admitted, rubbing his chin. “Are you willing to follow our rules and follow orders?”

  Brad hesitated. It was just a flicker, a second of reluctance, but it was there. Then he forced himself to say, “Yes.”

  Before anything more could be said, Raven stepped forward and rested a hand on Wilkes’ shoulder.

  “Before we commit to this, we need to talk.”

  Wilkes held his gaze for a beat, then nodded. They took a few steps away, just enough that Brad and the others wouldn’t hear.

  Raven’s voice was low, tight with controlled anger. “This is the group that left me on that roof to fight the brute.”

  Wilkes’ face darkened instantly. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, pure outrage flashed in his eyes.

  Then, just as quickly, it faded into resignation.

  Wilkes exhaled, his voice measured, but firm. “Despite what happened between you, I can’t turn away this many people who have nowhere else to go.” He let that sink in for a second before adding, “We will watch them. We will make sure they act in good faith. But they stay.”

  Raven’s fists curled. Everything in him screamed to refuse. These people had left him to die. And now, they wanted safety? Protection? A place to rest their heads, while he’d spent every moment since that day fighting to make this place liveable?

  But a part of him—the part that had driven him to fight for this place in the first place—knew Wilkes was right. The entire point of investing in the hospital was to save people.

  Even the ones he hated.

  Raven didn’t like it. But he nodded. “Just don’t ask me to play nice.”

  Wilkes didn’t react at first, but then his shoulders relaxed slightly.

  This was the first time they had completely disagreed. The first time Wilkes made a call Raven despised. And yet, Raven still fell in line.

  It wasn’t submission. It was trust.

  And Wilkes knew it.

  This was a good working relationship.

  And it would only grow stronger from here.

  Wilkes turned back to Brad’s delegation, his tone authoritative and final. “You have a place to stay as long as you follow the rules, contribute, and don’t create any trouble.”

  He let the words settle before stepping forward, his eyes locking onto Brad. “Walk with me.”

  Brad hesitated, but he followed. Raven watched every movement, muscles coiled, ready.

  Once they were out of earshot, Wilkes turned sharply, facing Brad with a stare that could cut through steel.

  Wilkes stepped closer, lowering his voice until only Brad could hear. “I know exactly who you are. And I know exactly what you did.”

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  Brad stiffened. His shoulders went rigid, his mouth parting as if to argue—but there was nothing to say.

  “If it weren’t for the fact that we need every human we can find alive, I’d kick your worthless ass to the curb for what you pulled,” Wilkes continued, stepping closer. “That kind of cowardice doesn’t fly here. Not in my house.”

  Brad swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

  Wilkes shook his head, exhaling through his nose. “As it stands, you lead a large group, and I don’t want them thinking they aren’t welcome because we kicked you out. But let me make this crystal fucking clear—you don’t get any second chances. You screw up once, you’re gone.”

  Brad nodded stiffly, eyes darting away.

  Wilkes narrowed his eyes. “Say it like you mean it.”

  Brad swallowed hard. “I understand.”

  “Good,” Wilkes said. “Now don’t make me regret this.”

  Wilkes studied him for a long moment before turning on his heel and striding back toward the others. “Liu,” he said without breaking stride, “Help these people get settled. Report anything suspicious or out of the ordinary.”

  Liu nodded, already moving to coordinate the newcomers.

  “Raven, with me.”

  They had barely turned when Sky’s voice cut through the air.

  “Raven, wait!”

  Raven stilled. He didn’t turn immediately. He let her desperation fill the space between them before he finally glanced back over his shoulder.

  Sky had run up to them, her breath uneven. “I’m so sorry, Raven,” she said, her voice cracking. “I didn’t want to leave, but that monster was coming, and Brad said we would die. They would have left me there.”

  For a fraction of a second, Raven hesitated.

  He wanted to believe her. But believing her meant letting go of the anger that had been with him since their betrayal and he wasn’t sure he could do that.

  Instead, his face went blank. Cold. Unreadable.

  She swallowed hard, her gaze pleading.

  Raven just stared at her.

  The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Sky fidgeted under his gaze, her fingers twisting together.

  Then, finally, Raven spoke. His voice was like ice cutting through glass.

  “You did what you had to.”

  He turned away.

  “And you picked your side.”

  Sky sucked in a sharp breath. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

  As Raven and Wilkes walked away, a single tear rolled down Sky’s cheek.

  Raven felt it. The guilt. That creeping whisper in the back of his mind. Maybe she had tried. Maybe she hadn’t.

  But at the end of the day, none of them had come back to check if he had lived.

  None of them had done a damn thing.

  Back at the hospital, Raven turned to Wilkes. “I’m going to go scouting. Make sure nothing dangerous has found its way into the Sink.”

  Wilkes studied him for a moment before nodding. “Be safe.”

  Raven didn’t respond. He just walked to the boarded-up door at the rear of the hospital and phased through it, disappearing into the city.

  As the afternoon stretched on, Liu got the newcomers settled, Wilkes continued training his recruits, and Raven moved like a shadow through the ruined streets.

  His blade was silent and efficient, cutting down goblins without a sound. The steel glided through flesh like paper, each strike a blur as he moved with cold precision. The goblins barely had time to cry out before collapsing into the rubble.

  It wasn’t about hunting.

  It was about getting away. He worked to maintain his focus, memories clouding his mind.

  As the sun dipped below the skyline, Raven found himself watching the hospital from a distance.

  His feet hesitated on the cracked pavement.

  He wasn’t ready.

  He couldn’t face Sky. Couldn’t face Brad.

  So, as the waxing moon rose, Raven turned away and disappeared into the night.

  Back at the hospital, Anny and Tabby waited until well past dark before finally giving up on Raven joining them for dinner.

  Tabby sighed, resting her chin on her arms. “Maybe he just forgot?”

  Anny stared at the empty seat across from her.

  She forced a smile. “Maybe.”

  But deep down, she knew better.

  And it stung.

  Raven moved through the streets, his thoughts a storm he couldn’t outrun. His mind kept looping back to the past, to her, to them.

  Why did it have to be them?

  Sky had been important to him once, more than he’d ever admitted, even to himself. And now she was back, looking at him with those same wide eyes, asking for forgiveness.

  Was he being an asshole?

  If she had stayed on that rooftop, fought alongside him, she’d probably be dead. The brute had almost pulped him, and she wouldn’t have lasted half as long. The logical part of him knew that. It made sense.

  And yet, logic didn’t erase the betrayal.

  The hurt surged every time he remembered looking down into that alley and realizing he had been abandoned. Again.

  He forced his focus back to patrolling, sweeping through the streets. The darkness was creeping in, but despite the limited light, he could see just fine. At first, he didn’t question it. But after a few minutes, he realized something wasn’t right.

  He looked up. The moon was only half-full. Not nearly bright enough to explain why he could make out every detail of the cracked pavement, the rubble-strewn alleyways, the distant shapes of buildings clear as day.

  A chill crawled up his spine.

  Phasing into an abandoned house, he checked it was empty before sinking into a corner. Something was happening to him.

  Summoning his grimoire, he flicked through the pages until his crest caught his eye.

  Another section of the crest had been filled in.

  Raven stared at it, frowning. Like the other, this one too was… strange.

  It wasn’t a shape. Not really.

  Just a swirling, inky cloud, pooling like darkness itself in the top left corner of the crest.

  His gut twisted. He had seen this before.

  In his dreams.

  A flash of memory hit him—the deep voice whispering in the void. Keep going.

  Keep going where? To what?

  A part of him knew the answer, but he wasn’t ready to face it.

  Instead, he focused on the new mark, the new change. There was something there. Something calling to him.

  As his fingers brushed the darkness on the page, something shifted.

  The room, already dim, seemed to pull inward, like the shadows were listening. Watching. Waiting.

  And then he realized—he wasn’t seeing through the dark. The dark was showing itself to him.

  Even in the house’s pitch-black shadows, he could see his grimoire clearly. Not just see it. The shadows moved when he focused on them, like something alive—something waiting.

  And then, as if drawn to the very thing that haunted him, his mind latched onto the pain.

  The men he had killed.

  The way he had been abandoned.

  The way Darryl had left him alone in the world.

  Something inside him shifted.

  The shadows recoiled—then surged forward, swallowing him whole. For a heartbeat, panic clawed at his chest. His breath caught. The darkness was inside him, part of him. It felt cold but not uninviting, like the kiss of cold water on a hot day.

  And then it settled. Not a prison. Not a curse. But something else. Something waiting.

  He exhaled. And for the first time in a long time… he felt free.

  He understood now.

  The darkness he saw reflected the darkness within him.

  This was a part of who he was. Who he had always been.

  A soft glow pulsed from the grimoire, drawing his attention. The page had changed, highlighted like when he had unlocked phasing.

  Raven turned to the section that had unlocked.

  A single word sat at the top.

  Shadow.

  And beneath it, his first new skill.

  Dark Vision.

  It was real. This wasn’t just a fluke. He had a second trait.

  A second trait, when most people barely had one.

  But was that a blessing—or a curse?

  The thought gnawed at him. This wasn’t like Phasing. That ability had felt like freedom. This? This felt like something deeper, something darker.

  Something that had always been there, waiting for him to notice it.

  The shadows curled around him in the dim light, stretching and retracting like breath. His breath.

  A part of him whispered that this wasn’t a new power at all. It was just him, stripped bare.

  He didn’t know if he should be proud—or terrified.