Marked

Chapter Thirteen

"What have you done, Charles?" Rachel breathed. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene before her.

Dotting the outside of the cabin, looking like beacons in a sea of black were eight poachers -– she counted each head-- all staring at her, their hands resting over their weapons belt.

Simone slipped from her hands, her arms too weak to hold her best friend up any longer. And maybe it wasn't weakness but rather the fear pumping through her body that made her fingers feeble and her body convulse. Either way, Rachel's mind raced, sifting through every scenario of how they could escape.

It became clear immediately that they were trapped. If she could run fast enough to avoid the poachers she might still survive but what would happen to her friends?

She couldn't leave them behind. If she only lived one more hour or an entire lifetime, she would never be able to forgive herself for abandoning them.

And so she thought, I guess this is where we all die together.

"Girly's going to run," Charles announced.

"No she won't," A cool voice muttered. From the line of poachers stepped forward a pretty woman with pixie cut blonde hair and piercing grey eyes.

Over her uniform were a dozen or more scattered pins and she walked with an aura of authority which made Rachel wonder if she was their leader.

She didn't wait around to find out. Rachel spun on her feet, thankful that Simone that had landed inside the cabin and not outside when she'd dropped her and slammed the door shut with a resounding boom.

She ran to the place where she had undone the ropes that were now her only salvation. Her fingers were a shaking mess as she tried to re-attach them with the hope of using the weapons against the poachers.

Soon-- too soon-- she found that this was pointless; it was getting her no where and she could already hear the sound of boots approaching the cabin.

"Is she dangerous?" She heard the woman say from behind the door.

"She's harmless, that girly." Charles replied.

Anger flashed through her veins, red and hot, making her want to reach through the door and strangle him.

Hector and her should have trusted their instincts and ran away the second they suspected Charles.

But now it was too late.

Rachel dragged Simone's convulsing body across the way towards the Hernandez brothers.

Her own body was beginning to tremble and once more she wondered if it was from fear or if the fever was beginning to take place inside her.

Wild thought after wild thought churned through her mind while her heart galloped inside her chest.

Charles thought she was harmless, did he? Well she'd show him.

She glanced at the faces of her companions and made her choice.

Throwing Charles' chest of weapons open, she pulled out the one that looked the most intimidating- a long, thin gun that could house enough bullets to make the poachers hesitate-- at least she hoped it would.

She stuffed the small, little vial of liquid that she found tucked at the very bottom of the weapons i to her shirt sleeve.

For leverage, she thought.

With all the strength she could muster, she over-turned the couch and let it create a barrier between her and the poachers.

When the door burst inward, Rachel lifted the gun and clicked off the safety like Charles had taught her. She fixed her gun on the one she knew the others would do anything to protect.