90 DEADLY DAYS (WEEKLY UPDATES RETURNING THIS DECEMBER)

Chapter 27

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Chapter 27

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I'm dead.

Darkness descends. There's a murky haze swimming in the distance where women wail. One of the voices reminds me of Luna's. Hearing it brings guilt to flooding in. I recall the shrapnel piece lodged in the back of her mane of hair, her lips twisted with surprise. She wasn't expecting to die yet—neither was I.

A pale hand reaches through the void for me, nails curled and jagged. The fleshy, rotten hand should belong to a mummy. A word lies in the bruised palm.

Death.

Sucking down panicked breaths, I roll back, clinging to the last remnants of life. I'm not ready to go yet, and not like this. Oh, why can't I decide what I want? All I know is that now, looking death straight on, my heart screams for me to try again, that it might not be too late to save myself.

To escape the Grim Reaper.

Blinking hard, I peer past a river of blood separating me from reality. Beyond it the shadow glares down, twisting my neck. I gurgle and gasp, shoving myself back into the extreme pain that comes with living. And then I fight.

Fight for my life.

Gripping the iron limb, I work to wrench myself free from its strangling hold. The circle grows tighter as I kick back. I'm hanging and the noose gets tighter. Breaths are impossible to take and instead of gasping, I croak like a frog. The darkness comes and, once more, the translucent, peeling hand of death moves closer.

Time fizzles away.

Time doesn't matter anymore. It's over forever for me.

Death seizes my ankle. The touch freezes my soul.

The unexpected sound of a shot bursts in my ears. My attacker crumples against me and slumps into a pile at my feet. The vision of the road to death vanishes, and, suddenly, I'm in the caves again.

Footsteps crunch toward me.

I holler.

A hand slaps over my mouth.

"They're coming. Stay with me," Butcher hisses.

Hearing his voice brings water to my eyes. I know I'm pathetic for crying, but I'm so frightened that it's all I can do. I don't know if I can bear looking death straight on again, if I'll be strong enough to fight it again. I wasn't even strong enough this time.

Sinking to my knees, I gasp for breath. Each passing day brings death closer. Each day brings horrors that make the last seem insignificant—mere trifles. How do I deal with this? How do I keep going without losing everything?

There's not even a moment to fully mourn the one I loved.

Kerry.

There's not even a moment to soothe the bleeding wounds. You only get more. And more. And more.

I can't stop crying.

I don't want to die, but I don't want to live.

I just want...I just want to be okay.

And neither state, living or dead, can give me that.

I've taken too long to recover. Butcher kicks the shadow's body aside and it rolls into the shade. Snatching my shivering arm, he pulls me along. I go willingly, forcing myself to stay upright and alert.

Dense boulders clutter the rock hill ahead. A precarious path leads up to the top, to a shaft-like tunnel that continues up into what only the cave knows. I figure if we make it there then we'd have an advantage over our attackers. Boulders already threaten to crash down the steep hill, but if someone were to knock them from the top, it would send a furious hail of man-sized rocks onto the shadows—either killing them or blocking their pursuit.