Chapter Nineteen

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Written by Kay (TheCrazySide)

Chapter Nineteen

Zayn

Run.

After a while of standing in that empty house with nothing but the souls of my dead friends by my side, I eventually told myself to start moving. Louis and Niall had already gotten the idea and were probably long gone by now (it was hard to tell how long I’d been standing there) and I needed to do the same.

So while panic bubbled up in my chest, I began running through the house first, grabbing a bag and throwing in essentials: a change or two of clothes, wallet, keys, and the gun (plus a couple of other loaded magazines).

While I wasn’t able to be there when they’d finally done away with Rosalie, I figured they’d messed up somehow. Killing her in the mental facility she was stuck in was completely reckless and stupid. There were bound to be cameras of some sort or witnesses. Based on the amount of blood on their clothes when they came back, it was sloppy and disorganized. Not at all the way we practiced our ritual.

Eventually, I figured I had just about all I was going to be able to manage before I broke down and sprinted outside, checking out the window first to make sure no one was around. When I opened the door there was an eerie sort of silence over the forest, and something told me that couldn’t just be attributed to being completely on my own now.

Focus, I snapped mentally. If I was going to make myself slow down just to dwell on every little detail of my surroundings, I wasn’t going to make it very far on the road, especially if someone discovered this place and pieced together what had happened.

Once I’d cleared my thoughts, I realized I needed a way to actually get away. Unfortunately, that’s when I turned to unlock the SUV only to find that it was missing. Niall and Louis must’ve already taken it.

Cursing my luck, I understood that I didn’t have a choice but to go on foot, maybe hope that I could get to the highway and hitch hike (or at worst, hijack a car). Grudgingly, I thus began my trek through the dense woods, slinging my bag over my shoulder and walking quickly to make better time.

I couldn’t help envisioning the forest at night and all its horrors. I couldn’t help seeing myself suddenly as Rosalie, running scared and for her life through these trees from us, desperately trying to get away at all costs. This caused a little bubble of guilt to form in my stomach, and while I’d accepted that I wasn’t as cold as the rest of the boys, it was still a strangely foreign feeling.

I continued to follow a path I knew by heart that the car always made when we went in and out of the place, nearing what I knew to be a hidden road onto the highway. The only problem was: When I reached that point and heard the noise of cars whizzing by, I also saw flashing lights; a lot of them.

Out of instinct, I quickly dove to the right, behind the trunk of a thick tree. I took deep breaths in an effort to calm myself before finally getting the courage to peer around the trunk again and take in the sight before me.

At least three police cars were all facing towards the woods at the edge of the entrance, just barely avoiding blocking off traffic behind them. All their lights were on and flashing, and all their occupants were out with guns pointed ahead. In front of them was our black SUV, half off the path as if it had veered sharply to the left in an effort to not hit the police cars. Its occupants (Louis and Niall) were just getting out like they were ready to make a run for it.

“Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan,” one of the policemen shouted, gun unwavering. “Put your hands up and turn around.”

From my vantage point, I saw Niall and Louis exchange a fleeting glance, and it was almost like defiance morphing into acceptance. It was like they were saying goodbye to each other all of a sudden, and it became clear when they raised their hands slowly and turned that they were surrendering. They both feared jail, but they feared dying more.

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