90 DEADLY DAYS (WEEKLY UPDATES RETURNING THIS DECEMBER)

Chapter 25

The Purification isn't over.

Squeezing red eyes shut, I pull something from the ground. I can't believe myself. Cool metal passes from my hands into the frayed pocket of my tunic. It's the murder weapon...

I'm shuddering, both from disgust and pain.

I grasp Kerry's frozen arm. I promised I wouldn't leave him behind. I can't have him pecked away by birds under a lonely sun—like the rest are. In death he will finally find a peaceful end, underground. With muffled grunts I drag him across the barren land of murders. All around are dried bones.

The jungle rustles. I hold my breath, suddenly realizing there is no more time for me. I pull faster—the rustling rises in pitch. There's stomping. I don't care about being silent anymore, I'm sure they know who I am. I drag Kerry loudly, his body thumping through craters. His beautiful hair muddies.

At one point his head lolls back, meeting my gaze head on. I start. He looks alive. The glowing grey eyes are portals full of mortal terror, full of accusations. I burst into tears, wishing away the uncontrollable urge to kiss and hug him back to life. I've been repressing that wish for days now.

My mouth props open. My teeth bare. I sniffle.

I feel like a child before they cry—overwhelmed and horribly miserable.

A knife-cutting shriek bursts out. 

"I'm a murderer, Kerry!"

The echo blares over the field.

Life crawls out of the woods.

I make out the first thing—a form over seven feet tall. No human features are visible, the face plate is blank. Only a crooked smile that bends all the way around, to what would be the ears, exists. A hood cloaks the rest of it.

Shredded and tattered from struggles, the cloak flushes limply in the breeze. Ragged bat wings would look the same.

The "it" catches sight of me immediately. Expanding, the grin opens to unveil inky, depraved blackness.

I take a step in retreat.

A midnight gloved hand reaches back, grasping a weapon strapped to the form's back.

I run, dragging my last treasure along.

There's the slice of force cutting air. I make the mistake of looking back. Cold bits splatter my front. There's another wound in Kerry—this time a winnowed spear.

I give an agonized, foreign howl. The metal swirls in my eyes, I can't hear, and a blurry, faraway dream calls me. Everything's alive there. No one dies.

The fated air whistles with death again.

My mind goes crazed.

I drop what little I have left—a cold, decaying love—and my legs burst with hotness. I let overwhelming insanity drive me wherever it wills. The other side of the wasteland comes closer. Behind, the night chokes with the dust of runners—they race faster than Raiders.

Ten feet from the dense thicket, I stumble. The rib moves, dropping down somewhere inside. The pain flashes so intense I can't think. My head keels forward while my arms flail, reaching for rods of stability. I land headlong, my face sliding along the ground as sweet dirt collects in my eyelashes and teeth.

I get up after a spear sticks into the dirt an inch from my fingernails. Bullets rain as a pain knifes my stomach.

In the overgrowth, I bury my trembling body in a horned bush. With my condition, running will only help them find me.

In all of this chaos, my mind floats on a distant plain, in some perfect utopia. It hasn't yet realized what's going on. I hope it never does.

I think of the degenerate shadows plowing across no man's land.

What are these new horrors?

They have no faces, only frightening, wicked smiles.

The air thickens.

I smell frost.

I am wrong. The air chokes with heat and smoke soon after. There is a bonfire in the middle of the wasteland. Several of the mysterious shadows surround the warmth. I catch sight of flames rising to the holes in the skies.

What are they burning?

I push aside leaves, putting my life on my line.

The smoke smells sick. Sick like death. I breathe through my mouth.

And then my mouth widens.

"Kerry!" I shriek.

A shadow turns.

"No!" I yelp. "Kerry! Kerry!"

Barreling from my hideout, I lose all control. The shadows come closer, one brandishes a crimson spear.

"He's worthless!" The tone is robotic. Foreign. "Step closer, and I'll kill you."

The hiss sends my skin crawling to the hills.

I pause the charge, wailing. "You'll be doing me a favor!"

Suddenly its hood concealing the face plate drops. I shriek. My heart flees now. Eyes dropping, lips juddering against each other, I back up.

"Really?" The form comes running at me.

Crying out from terror, I flee.

In the jungle, I scramble through until I find a stream. On instinct I dive into its depths. The water stings like ice and my lips go blue as I'm swept away. I sense the shadow remaining on the shore, but I can't bring myself to even peek at the horror.

All I can smell is the smoke of Kerry's end.

Thinking of this, I plunge deeper and stay in the cold, murky depths until darkness overtakes my vision. This time, nothing holds me back.

I vanish.

All we do is hide away.