The 23 Cannons Trilogy

Spilled Blood

Derek crouched in the corner of the dark space, Griffin trembling beside him. He was in a state of shock: in the past few minutes, Mason and Tavish had been killed, and there were Careers now in the house, looking for more tribute to kill. If it weren't for Mason's brief warning, then Derek would have been killed on top of that balcony when Mason died.

He shuddered, and tears rolled down his cheeks: the image of Mason being murdered had been permanently seared into his brain. Two of his friends had just died. The killers were still in the house. And the two remaining members of this now broken alliance were stuck in the attic, having rushed up with the bags as soon as Mason burst open the door. Derek glanced across the attic, and saw the hatch in the middle of the floor. It hadn't been touched since he and Griffin rushed up here, and Derek was relieved about that. The lack of creaking also told him that the Careers hadn't gone upstairs just yet: he knew that they would; it was only a matter of time.

And if Derek didn't do something, then the entire alliance would be brutally murdered in one night. But there was only one way out of this house, and that was through the front door: they were trapped in this building so long as the Careers were potentially there. Derek looked to his right, and saw the pile of bags. They were filled with enough food and water to last a couple of days, but he couldn't risk reaching over to it: the creaking would attract attention. It was ironic in a sense, Derek realised: the thing that was supposedly going to protect them from danger was now the very thing that could end their lives.

Griffin was still shaking by Derek's side, and was very quietly sobbing into his own jacket. Derek felt a pang of emotion: the poor kid had only just turned twelve the day before reaping day, and he was now trapped in the arena, with people that would very likely kill him less than ten feet away. The entire situation felt awfully hopeless; Derek knew that there was very little they could do but just sit here, and wait it out.

But for how long? Eventually, Derek realised, he would get hungry, thirst, and tired. And if he dozed off? He had no idea how loudly he slept; the noise from his slumber could alert the Careers. Or if he tried to risk grabbing something to consume from one of the bags, then he could equally make as much as, if not more, noise. It was a hopeless situation.

"Hey, Derek," Griffin said in a voice that was barely audible. Derek knew that it would be risky talking, but at such a low volume, he was sure he would be safe for the moment.

"Yeah?" Derek replied in a voice equally as quiet.

"What are we going to do?" Griffin asked. "I don't think we can stay up here forever."

"I know," Derek said. "Somehow, we need to find a way out." It was true; staying here would be suicide, and once again, Derek felt a pang of shame. Why did they go to this house? It was stupid. All of it was stupid.

"But how do we get out?" Griffin questioned. "The Careers are at the exit, and if we go near them, we're dead.

"I..." Derek began, before trailing off. "I don't know, Griffin. I don't know." Derek felt despair tug at his heart. He wasn't the one with the plan; that was always left to Tavish and Mason, both of whom were lying dead on the ground floor. Without them, it was hopeless. Since what could Derek do, really? He was just some fourteen year old from the poorest of the poor, who could barely read and write. How was he supposed to come up with some brilliant way out of the situation?

He wasn't. That was how. Derek sunk his face into his hands, and began to cry softly.

"Are you okay?" Griffin asked, looking concerned. 

"I'm sorry," Derek said between sobs. "I'm so sorry. But I can't do it, Griffin. I can't get us out of here." He had failed them. As far as he could see, there was no way to get out of here. They were trapped, and he was not going to be able to get them out of here.