“It is quite impressive what you were able to do to my men,” Judah said. “We’ve managed to navigate this world mostly unscathed. A few deaths from the infected, but no more than that. Of course, that’s quite a lot easier when you’re at the top of the food chain. When you have control over others.”
“That make you feel better about yourself?”
Judah put his arms out. “Of course, it does. Look around you… oh, that’s right. We haven’t been formally introduced. Your name?”
Jon stared at him, saying nothing.
“Right, of course, you won’t give that up. Well, the name Savage will do for now. Look around you, Savage. You think it doesn’t make me feel better about living here? That I have a whole community of folks a few miles away who go out and do most of the work to keep our community surviving?” Judah marched toward Jon, stopping only a foot from his face. “You’re goddamn right, it makes me feel better about myself. Gets me more aroused than any woman could think of.” He poked Jon in the chest, leaving his finger there. “You made a grave mistake killing my men.”
“As did you by burning down my cabin.”
Judah laughed. He then leaned in next to Jon’s ear. “What I did to that piece of shit cabin is nothing compared to the kind of misery I’m going to put you through.”
Jon gritted his teeth and slammed his head into Judah’s nose, head-butting the Vultures’ leader as his only way of mounting any sort of offensive. He heard the crunch of a breaking nose moments before being taken down to the ground by the two men behind him.
Without his arms to brace his fall, Jon hit the rug below him face-first. He only had a moment to lick the inside of his mouth to make sure the teeth were still there before kicks pounded his ribs. Jon gritted his teeth, absorbing the pain. He’d braced for this moment.
“Get him up on his fucking feet!” Judah barked.
The two men picked Jon up under his arms and yanked him up. His ribs screamed at him, but he fought to ignore the pain. The men held him still, and one of them even grabbed onto a wad of Jon’s hair for leverage. Looking across at Judah brought a smile to Jon’s face, though. Blood covered his broken nose, and the Vulture leader no longer wore his own smile.
Judah came forward and wrapped his hand around Jon’s throat, squeezing and choking him. He stared into Jon’s eyes with a sort of dead rage that Jon had only seen in the faces of the undead.
“You are going to fucking regret what you did, Savage,” Judah said, spitting blood between his words.
He then stood back, reared his fist, and knocked Jon out cold with a single punch.
32
The steel-toed boot hit his ribs again, but Jon had almost grown accustomed to the pain. As soon as it made contact, he spit more blood onto the ground.
“Get the fuck up,” the man kicking him said.
Jon gasped for air. He wasn’t sure exactly how long he’d been held captive, but it had been at least a day and a half by his estimation. Cuts and bruises covered his face, as well as both the front and back of his entire torso. His legs were weak, and his arms ached constantly. Even so, he managed to push himself up into a table-top position, only for his tormentor to kick him in the ribs again. Jon fell back down to his stomach as the man laughed. He squatted next to Jon.
“Have you about had enough? Because I can do this all day. I can give you a thousand kicks for each of our men that you killed. Now, get the fuck up.”
Jon wanted nothing more. Even through the days of torture, he had remained committed to making sure these men knew they couldn’t break him. They’d have to kill him for that. Jon would die knowing that Judah had no power over him, and he would then get to go be reunited with Carrie and Spencer in whatever afterlife existed. He only knew there had to be one, and he would see them again.
But he could no longer push himself up.
He tried, but his arms gave out and his body dropped back down onto the ground. The taste of iron became more apparent as his mouth continued to fill with blood. Maybe he wouldn’t make it to some sort of execution. Perhaps he would die on the floor right there. Jon knew he’d be okay with that.
The man spit on Jon’s shirtless back. “You pathetic piece of shit.”
Jon could hear the man winding up for another kick when the door opened. He couldn’t move his head to see who it was, but he didn’t have to.
“Hello, sir,” the tormentor said.
There were several moments of silence before Judah’s familiar voice said to the other man, “You’re excused.”
“Yes, sir.”
The sound of the man’s boots marching across the floor and the door shutting echoed in Jon’s ears, drowning out the dull and constant ringing. He kept his eyes shut, but he could hear Judah’s boots on the floor, pacing around him. When he finally opened his eyes, Jon saw those boots standing next to him in a blur. Judah squatted down next to him, but Jon couldn’t look up enough to see his face.
“Ah, so you are still alive. I wasn’t so sure. I was about to give you another good kick to see.”
Jon coughed, more blood coming out of his mouth.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a face-to-face conversation with you. I hope this doesn’t hurt too much.”
Judah grabbed Jon by the pants and flipped him over onto his back. Looking up, Jon saw three versions of Judah’s face. He tried to focus on the center one.
Knowing that there wouldn’t be a repeat
