All the Better (A Twisted Novel)

Chapter Eleven

I can't take it. Not anymore. Not after all I had been through: learning about magic, finding Jason, dealing with his nuemonia; this would not, would not, stop me from getting us out of these woods safe.

That's all it takes to break my frozen trance. Gently, but quickly, I push him away from me. He stumbles away until he finds a tree to support him. Dashing to my bag, I open it and pull out my rifle. It isn't much. A one shot that I usually don't use, but it was the only one small enough to pack.

Whirling around, I face the man. "Don't think you-"

My cheeks warm up, and I cut myself off. In front of me is a man in his mid-fifties, and his son, a short, handsome boy around my age. They both raise their arms when they see my gun, the boy relaxed and smiling, while the man draws his lips tight.

He looks me in the eyes. I feel as if he can see through me."We don't want any trouble."

Realizing the gun is still aimed at them, I grimance and slowly lower it to the ground. "Sorry. It's been a rough week. I thought you...well. Sorry."

The man nods, accepting my apology. He indicates towards Jason. "What's wrong with him?"

"I thinks it's nuemonia. We've been kind of lost."

The boy flips his hair out of his eyes, laughing. "Kind of?"

I watch as the man sends his son a glare. "We'd be happy to give you a ride. We're parked on a road about half a mile from here. I say you need to get your boyfriend to the hospital as soon as possible."

I feel my cheeks color slightly. "Oh, no. He's a friend of mine. But we would really appreciate a ride."

Jason chooses now to speak up. He winks at me, "You know you want me, sweetheart. Seriously, though-"

He begins coughing violently, leaning against the tree as his shoulders shake. All three of us run over to him. The old man gestures to his son who brings water to him, then offers a bottle to me. We.both drink greedily, the sweet liquid sliding down my throat.

"We need to get him out of here. Son, you pick him up. There's no way he can walk."

He ignores Jason's protest and picks him up. I grab my backpack, slinging it over my shoulder and fall in step beside the boy.

His head barely reaches my shoulder, and he laughs. "You're tall."

"No. I'm short for my age. You're just really small."

He laughs again, unbothered. "Fair enough. I'm Tom."

"Renae."