Chapter 153 A Rogue named Lando

Chapter 153 A Rogue named Lando
Lando
My family was once known as the Black Ghost pack. My father was its Alpha, and I was his youngest son.
I haven’t always been a rogue drifting between borders, living on scrap and spite. I had a home. I had two little sisters I cared about more than my own skin.
“Brother, let’s play catch! Lucy, come on!” Lana used to yell across the yard, sharp and impatient, kicking up dust in her worn shoes.
Lucy stood by the porch with her arms crossed over her chest, stubborn as hell. “Catch is for boys, Lana. There’s no way I’m playing.”
“That’s what you think, Luce,” Lana fired back, tossing the leather ball from hand to hand.
I chuckled, leaning my shoulder against the porch beam. “How about we play catch now, and I help you build that dollhouse later?”
Lucy’s stubborn act melted in a second, and she started jumping up and down on the wooden boards. “Deal! Let’s do it!”
Those were the moments I kept locked in the back of my mind when everything went to hell.
It started with a sickness—sudden and brutal. They called it the Rot. A plague born out of the silver mines that fed our entire economy. It started in the low quarters among the miners, guys breathing in dust day after day, and then it crept right into the wealthy districts. Soon enough, there wasn't a single house without black cloths hanging over the doorframe.
Once the neighboring packs realized what was spreading, they didn't send healers or medicine. They sent armed guards. They built a perimeter around our entire border, locking our town down like a death camp, with orders to shoot down anyone who stepped toward the fence.
“Lando... take your sisters. Run,” my mother rasped from the mattress.
She coughed, a wet sound that ended with her wiping dark silver-tainted blood from her mouth. Beside her lay my father. His skin was gray, his chest completely still. He’d died in his sleep hours ago, but my mother had insisted on staying beside him until her own lungs gave out. Just yesterday, I’d used a shovel to dig two shallow graves in the back garden for my older brothers.
“I can’t leave, Mother,” I said, kneeling beside her. “It’s suicide out there. And I... I’m not leaving you like this.”
“No!” She grabbed my wrist, her grip tighter than I expected. “Think of Lana and Lucy. If they stay in this house another day, they’re going into the dirt like the rest of us.”
I set my jaw, forcing the lump in my throat down. “What makes you think the three of us aren't already sick?”
My mother’s lips parted slightly, a broken smile touching her face. “Because you’re still breathing. Live, Lando. For me. For your father. For your brothers. Keep those girls safe.”
I squeezed her hand. She squeezed back with whatever strength she had left.
“Go,” she whispered.
I stood up, forced my legs to move, and walked into the back room where my sisters were hiding under heavy wool blankets, listening to the crackle of gunfire in the streets. The neighboring packs had stopped just guarding the perimeter—they were sweeping through the district to clear out whoever was left.
I pulled the blanket back gently. Their faces were pale. I took two thick cloth masks, pulled them snug behind their ears, and fixed the fabric over their noses.
“Lucy, Lana... we’re playing a game, alright?” I kept my voice flat and steady. “I need you both to cover your eyes and ears, and count all the way to sixty. Can you do that for me?”
They nodded, clamping their small hands over their ears.
“Wait until I tell you to start,” I muttered.
I scooped them both up, taking their weight against my ribs. “Bury your faces in my neck. Hold on tight.”
They pressed against my shoulders, shaking against me.
I took a deep breath, filled my lungs, and kicked our front door wide open.
“Count now!” I barked.
“One... two...” Lana’s muffled voice started against my collarbone.
I took off down the dirt street, throwing my full weight into every stride, dodging behind stone walls and overturned supply carts to avoid the armed patrols sweeping the roads.
“...ten...”
My arms burned, but I was holding everything I had left in this world. Dropping them wasn't an option.
“...fourteen, fifteen...”
A sudden crack split the air behind us, and dirt sprayed against my boot.
“Over there! Catch him!”
“Shit,” I grunted, cutting left down a narrow alleyway, sprinting past row after row of silent, empty houses.
“...twenty-one, twenty-three... uh, twenty-two...” Lucy was losing count.
I kept moving until the alley opened up near the riverbank. There was a small motorized boat docked at the supply platform, stacked high with covered bodies, run by two guys in heavy protective gear.
“...thirty-seven, thirty-eight...”
I checked over my shoulder. We had lost the patrol in the turn, and the two guys on the dock hadn't turned around yet.
I stepped onto the platform, setting Lucy and Lana down behind a pile of crates.
“Hey! There’s one over here!” one guard yelled, turning around just as I closed the distance.
Before he could pull his rifle up, I drove my boot straight into his chest, sending him falling hard into the river. The second guy reached for his sidearm, but I grabbed him by the front of his vest and threw him over the edge after his partner.
“...fifty-six, fifty-seven...”
I grabbed the boat’s throttle, unhooked the line, and slammed the engine into gear, roaring out into open water with the bodies as our only cover.
“...sixty!” Lana shouted, pulling her head up from her knees.
I held tight to the wheel, staring out over the dark water with chest heavy and my sisters safe at my feet.