90 DEADLY DAYS (WEEKLY UPDATES RETURNING THIS DECEMBER)

Chapter 47

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Chapter 47

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The stench of death envelopes us. I tear across the snow, kicking up white rain. My head swims with terror. It seems impossible that only minutes ago, Atol kissed me in those woods. Those woods now chockfull of diabolic imaginings.

Did he really capture me, hold me spellbound and chained with one simple touch? Is it still there? If I turn around, will I realize that moment wasn't dreamed up by my fevered brain? If I look back, will I relive the taste of that sinful mistake?

I can't help it. I peek over my shoulder at hell. As I behold the insidious underworld, an evil wind reaches into my lungs, immobilizing my very soul. My knees lock up with wicked cold and a knife-like force cuts them from under me. I smash back first into snow, frozen into a pillar of salt. There I lay, stiffer than a body lying in the morgue, waiting for the cutter to sever me into bite-sized parts.

My tracker flashes red.

"Never look back. You never look back." A hand yanks me from the grave, forcing me to stand. But I am too limp to hold myself up. My head lopes backwards and I swoon, compelling the hand to support all my weight.

Only I would be stupid enough to think I could revive the past. This alone is punishment for my awful sin. Who else longs for more of a soulless creature with eyes like the devil? Who else sinks into depraved humanity and wishes for another touch. Longs for affection a tormented creature can never give? Who else but a deranged, wretched girl like me, a girl so screwed up she craves for more.

Perhaps I thought heaven would turn her eyes and allow it. Perhaps I thought she would forgive me. I do not think its coincidence all this hell arose after we touched, after I stopped fighting and plunged into his bloody lake of damnation.

There's no time to regroup my wits. Atol must know this, because instead of letting me go he pulls me to his side and drags me along. Jewel looks down at me with pooling eyes, her mouth tight with fear.

Like a rocket ship, we head in the direction of the stars. An unwelcome blanket of snow flurries down. Exposed skin burns from its touch at first, but then eventually becomes number than a Raider's heart. The wind howls her sorrows. Up, up we go, hoping for higher ground. Atol climbs the snowdrifts until pitiless winds chap his golden skin and draw sweet blood.

Jewel starts coughing halfway through our escape. Leaning over Atol's shoulder, she hacks until her body pales to a shade whiter than snow. A river of blood forms, rushing between her teeth and over her lips. Her state reminds me of when I found her in the ditch. My throat constricts with the fear that it might be internal bleeding. All of our running might have reopened half-closed wounds.

But I force those nightmarish fears back into the dark. It is cold after all, so much so that my hands are blue. It could just be that. I worry too much for my own good.

It is night when Atol stops. We pause atop a cliff with a bird's eye view of our surroundings. The fog creeps along the lower valleys, seeking whom it may devour. We won't be able to head down for a long time. Not until that diabolical haze dissipates.

Atol muffles a groan as he settles Jewel on a fur that I've spread out. His form quakes with barely concealed exhaustion. I blanch, realizing that for about 25 miles he has carried and dragged more than 260 pounds of body weight. When he finally rests against the bark of a tree, I approach him with our last few crumbs of food and our last flask of water.

"Atol?" I whisper. "Thank you. You don't know how much this me--."

He falls asleep. His long eyelashes stiff with ice brush his cheeks. At first, I think he died. Fire burns in my ears and I lunge forward, invasively pressing my hand over his heart. When I hear a steady beat humming a faithful song, I finally breathe. Then I can't help but stare.