90 DEADLY DAYS (WEEKLY UPDATES RETURNING THIS DECEMBER)

Chapter 28

I drag myself to the sack. It's just like the ones they leave at airdrops—the ones I was never swift enough to grasp. I undo the drawstring top and dig inside for anything useful. My fingers identify a small bag of dried fruits and nuts. I tuck it in my tunic pocket, for later.

When I get away from him.

I dig until my fingers finally brush metal. Feeling it, I laugh. I snicker through my teeth until tears are rolling. Dragging it out of hiding, I bring the metal to my lips for a kiss. The gun glistens in the leftover, dim light.

And I wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Footsteps crunch a few yards outside the cave. I've positioned myself in the curve of the cave, hoping to take Butcher by surprise. The moment I see him I'm going to shoot.

He deserves to die. What he has planned for me is worse than death.

And yet, when he appears in the space, I go completely numb. He's the spitting-image of a caveman but that's too unnervingly human for me. Kerry's face mixes with his and all I can think of is how I murdered him. How I took an innocent life.

I murdered!

I can't do it again. I can't kill. It would be the end of me—there would be only soulless night left.

My hands refuse to obey the new command. Still aiming the gun for Butcher's heart, they are stiff and ready.

Butcher doesn't flinch at the sight of the weapon. Glaring directly into my eyes, he smiles wickedly. I fight to maintain the forceful eye contact, to refuse to look away.

This makes him chuckle.

"You're up I see."

The condescending tone brings back my courage.

"I am. I wanted to surprise you."

Sarcasm drips like honey.

"I'd like to see this—an Entitled shooting a gun? You've never even held gun before," he laughs. "Have you?"

How does he know I'm an Entitled?

When I hesitate to answer, he starts for me. My eyebrows fly high, causing my insides to boil over. The urge to abandon everything and run like mad wars with the reasoning of my cold and calculated plan. But then I remember, I barely had strength enough to crawl. This is my only option. The gun starts to quaver in my hands, I bite my lip to hold back a frightened gasp.

"One more step and I'll shoot!"

"Did you think this would work?" he taunts. "You'd hold up a gun and I'd surrender? You'd kill the revolting Raider? Princess, I'm already dead."

He's halfway to me.

"I'll kill you I swear!"

"Do it!" he roars. The bellow crashes into the walls, the room carries its haunting echo. The gun trembles viciously. My body rattles so thoroughly, I can't see straight. "Kill me then!"

His matted mane falls in front of eyes, hiding his gritty skin. Veiled by the black, he's a terrible phantom. Not a human.

The gun fires off. The kick back of the weapon smashes into my shoulder, drawing a pained cry. Butcher's horrible laugh erupts.

I've missed.

The bullet is stuck into the wall space between Butcher's legs. I try to convince myself it was an accident, but my brain screams otherwise. I'm not a killer, I'll never be one. Everything so far has endeavored to convince me life isn't sacred, that it can be taken at the snap of a finger. I refuse to believe so, I already have eternal scars that prove life can't be taken without the doer losing at least a piece of sanity. But for the sake of my fate, I'll have to pretend I can.

I shakily aim again, unnerved that Butcher in a few moments will be close enough to wrench the gun from my grasp. He paused for a second when I shot the first time. Now that he's unscathed, not even me aiming again holds him back.

Crazy fear drowns my lungs.

What if this last bravado doesn't work?

"The closer the better! This time I won't miss," I hiss.

Don't let me down.

I pull the trigger. Nothing happens. Butcher's lips turn upwards and his heavy hand snatches away my last shield. The gun goes flying at the adjacent wall where it snaps into five pieces. I watch them bounce onto the floor.

Eyes capturing mine, Butcher watches me crumble. I'm already on the floor, but I pull into a tighter ball. He leans down, smirking cruelly.

"It had one bullet left. You had one chance."

Shuddering, I curse myself. If I could have only...

"I'm not a killer like you." The words overflow with hatred.

"That's too bad," he clucks. "You'd have been free if you were."

He reaches for me.

I don't have words to describe the gruesome sin that follows. All I know is that my eyes are becoming clear too, like those of this born killer.

Hollow.

Soulless.

Void.