//Un//marked

// chapter 19 //

    The camp, despite its increased population, stood eerily quiet. Every corner hosted a different group: the east fence the alley cats, who watched the ongoings with interest; the west fence the remaining junkyard cats, who seemed both relieved and uncomfortable at once; and in the shade of the Tumble-Down Den the rebels, who shifted with unease and dread.

    For, in the centre of the camp, stood three defiant figures: Jet, Queenie, and Fang, a rather large black and white tom who had been second-in-command to the junkyard leader and his littermate. The three of them, scarred up from fighting to get away for most of the night, did not resist their executioners: Nightchaser, Condor, and Killian. Not far off, Bronco watched the proceedings with dismay, Roxanne shaking her head at his side.

    "Don't do this!" The cry came not from the assembled junkyard cats but from the depths of the Tumble-Down Den, where Olive and Finch held Cinderblossom down to keep her from rushing the executioners. The she-cat had been arguing with Nightchaser all night, trying to change his mind, but nothing she said had moved him.

    "These three cats have refused to join our ranks, to unite the alleys and junkyards of this Twolegplace," Nightchaser announced. "For this, they will be killed – "

    "She's pregnant with kits, Nightchaser!" came Cinderblossom's screech, quickly followed by scuffling and strained silence.

    "Killed," Nightchaser repeated, "to prevent future uprisings or ideas of rebellion."

    Dewpaw blinked against the harsh dawn sunlight. Most of the junkyard cats had opted to join this camp by sundown the previous night. The others, thanks to Cinderblossom's pleading with Nightchaser, had been given time until dawn to make up their minds. Truthfully, he was not surprised that neither Jet nor Queenie had agreed. He was, however, wary of Gannet's decision to stay, as well as Chrome's, who had wanted to kill Dewpaw when he initially wandered into gang territory.

    The three executioner's readied themselves – Nightchaser next to Jet, Condor over Queenie, and Killian beside Fang. Dewpaw saw the most imperceptible of nods from Nightchaser and their claws flashed at the ready.

    "I hope DarkClan kills all of you," Jet hissed, just loud enough for the entire camp to hear. Nightchaser's face twisted into rage.

    Claws fell and Dewpaw blinked furiously, willing himself to keep his eyes open. He would not appear too weak to watch the execution of the cats who held him hostage.

    "Stop this immediately."

    Too late, Fang fell to the ground, blood gurgling from his throat as the life left his eyes. Killian jumped away, claws bloodied, as a black shape barrelled into first Condor, then Nightchaser. Jet and Queenie looked surprised but remained where they were.

    "What are you doing?" Nightchaser growled, turning on the newly arrived cat.

    "I could ask the same of you," Sprucetail replied, tail lashing angrily. The dawn light made her dark fur gleam and illuminated the three long scars on her shoulder.

    Dewpaw shifted as the two black cats circled each other, moving slightly away from the spectacle. All around him, others leaned forward to take in Sprucetail's challenge of Nightchaser's leadership.

    "You know just as well as I do that if we let them go they will go straight to DarkClan," Nightchaser hissed back, yellow eyes like fire as he followed each and every one of Sprucetail's movements.

    "Then let them," she said. "What do you think DarkClan will do to them? If they are still the same bloodthirsty honour-less cats that I remember – the ones you should remember too – then they will not spare them. They will execute them just as you are doing now, except in a way that forces the entire Clan to participate in their bloodbath to weed out the weak among them."