WHEN THE SUN slipped through the cracks of the horizon the next morning, Devora awoke with a grown slipping past her lips. The last few nights had not been kind to her and when paired with the injury she had recently sustained, this dawn simply marked yet another day which the poor girl had awoken with a sore back and pain as the first sensation.
Some time through the night while she was asleep, the fire had fizzled out into nothing but charred logs and the smell of cinder and ash. With the fire dead and gone, the cold of the morning was starting to get to Devora. Although it was just the air that surrounded her, the chill was just as impactful as a bucketful of ice water downed on her head, washing away her drowsiness swiftly.
Rubbing her eyes, Devora's gaze landed on where she had seen Nathan last night. However, the spot was nothing but grass and dead leaves. Sitting up in a panic, Devora's hand dropped to the ground, supporting her weight as she turned this way and that, eyes darting far and wide in search of the brown-haired boy. Other than a bunch of greenery and a few chirping birds, there was nothing else Devora could find. There was certainly no other human in the vicinity, in both a good way and bad.
"Looking for me?" From above, a voice called out, prompting Devora to look up despite her stiff neck.
A shadow emerged from one of the branches high up a tree before it quickly found its way down, jumping off when it neared the ground. Nathan landed with a thud, perfectly on his feet as he stretched his arms high above his head. At the sight of him, Devora audibly breathed out in relief, her tense shoulders relaxing.
'Good,' she thought. 'He hadn't left. I'm not alone.'
"Sleep well?" He asked, sighing in content as he massaged the kinks in his shoulders. "You were knocked out right after our conversation."
"I must've been more exhausted than I thought," Devora muttered, adjusting her position before twisting her body around to stretch the knots that had formed. A satisfying pop sounded from her back, eliciting a sigh from her lips. "But the forest floor is terrible. I miss my bed."
A ring of laughter escaped Nathan's lips at Devora's words. He doubled over, hands clutching his stomach as he stepped closer towards her, crouching down so that he could help her up to her feet. With their close proximity and the light of day, Devora couldn't help but let her eyes wander to his face again. This time, they landed on the two perfect dimples on his cheeks, another set of art in addition to the constellation of freckles that covered the apples of his cheeks and nose bridge.
The corner of Nathan's eyes crinkled delicately and soon enough, his laughter died down to a good-natured smile.
"Well, you better get used to his life. There definitely won't be ready-made beds for you around every corner of the city for you to rest your pretty little head on," he chuckled.
The words had left Nathan's mouth without first going through the filter in his brain. For the last few days, Devora had kept her eyes and ears peeled for information about the thugs that had kidnapped her and the rest of the children. This constant state of attention had groomed her to always be mindful of the words spoken around her as it may serve useful in the future. The words which Nathan had used offhandedly didn't slip past her as a mere passing comment. Rather, it seemed a little suspicious, a little too precise.
With eyes widening significantly, Devora raised a single eyebrow, arched high as she shot Nathan a cautious glare.
"And what do you mean by that? Why will I need a bed at every corner of the city if I can just stay at home?"
For a brief moment, the boy acted like a deer caught in headlights. His eyes suddenly perked with attention, eyebrows soaring high the second he noted that he had misspoken and revealed something he had sworn not to. However, as quickly as that stunned look came, it disappeared and was replaced by the same smug smile he wore before, carried with pride.
"We'll be traveling, remember? I doubt you'll be able to reach home from here anytime soon."
Unconvinced but unable to find a flaw in Nathan's explanation, Devora was no longer able to push the topic any further. She simply pursed her lips in distrust, eyes darting away as Nathan helped her up.
"No," she murmured, dusting off the leaves on her thighs. "I guess not."
♕♕♕
"Keep up, Dora. We've got a long way ahead and I'll like to get to our destination before the sun sets again."
Devora groaned at the nickname, legs almost buckling as she continued to trudge on significantly behind her very much fitter companion.
"Stop walking so fast! My legs are going to break soon," she whined. Her hand reached up to wipe a bead of perspiration away from her forehead, panting heavily due to fatigue.
"I'm already a day late in sending you back. We can't delay any longer." Gone was Nathan's friendly tone, replaced with an impassive voice that only showed brief urgency. Then, he muttered softly under his breath, almost unheard by Devora, "I need to get you back quickly if I wish to keep my head intact."
"What was that?" Devora asked, squinting at Nathan's back before dropping her gaze back to the forest floor. She hadn't caught his words, only hearing enough to know that he had said something under his breath.
Nathan was about to reply when the sharp snap of a fallen twig made him stop in his tracks, lips still parted but breath lodged in his throat. His ears perked up, staying rooted at his spot as his eyes narrowed. Devora hadn't noticed his sudden stop in movements and had kept on walking, causing her to knock into Nathan's back. He staggered forward a few steps at the impact but quickly steadied himself, turning around to grab hold of Devora. One hand snaking around her waist, he held her protectively behind him before his other hand reached to his back pocket where a weapon was kept. Although his fingers easily gripped around the handle of the pistol, he didn't pull it out. He waited, scanning his surroundings cautiously.
Finally realizing that something was wrong, Devora looked up at Nathan, stepping a little closer into his hold on pure instinct.
"What's wrong?" She asked, making sure to keep her voice barely above a whisper, her own hand coming to hold Nathan's biceps as she, too, glanced around with worry.
"We're being followed." Nathan's reply was immediate, a statement without any hint of doubt.
As if to prove his point, a series of shouts and gunshots soon echoed from not too far behind them, causing Nathan to drop his left hand from Devora's back so that he could hold her hand, pulling her into a sprint, crouching low. "Get down!"
While on the run, Nathan removed the safety on his gun before he turned out, firing a couple of shots at the emerging figures chasing after them. The resounding thump of bodies dropping dead to the ground almost seemed to be louder than the firing of a gun in Devora's perspective, a sound that certainly impacted her more than any other even when compared to a bomb going off.
"Oh my— Aah!"
Bullets flew over their heads like a hailstorm, threatening to hit them at any given second. Even with how her legs seared and burned, Devora could only grit her teeth and bear the pain. Losing a leg would most certainly be better than losing her life. If she stopped for even a second, her life could be forfeit.
The footsteps were getting louder, thundering just behind them as the duo jumped over fallen logs. Nathan had to pull the injured Devora behind him as quickly as possible all while making sure the shots fired by their pursuers didn't hit their mark.
"Damn it!" He cursed, turning around to take aim once more. With a swift flick of a wrist, he shot down yet another thug, one that was ahead of the pack and had caught up to them and had been running a little too close for comfort. "Why are they so god damn persistent?!"
As they neared a boulder that would significantly block them from view, Nathan slid his way behind it, dragging Devora down so that they could lay hidden from view. Bullets hit against the large slab of rock but it made little to no damage, creating nothing but a ring of noise that burned Devora's ears. Her hands reached up to clutch at her ears, knees tucked close to her chest as she shook her head. The pain in her leg was gone, replaced by a rush of adrenaline and panic over when the bullet that could end her life would hit.
"No no no no no. Please. Please, just stop," she sobbed, more to herself than to anybody else.
"Dora!" With hands finding their way to Devora's forearms, Nathan tried to gently pry her hands off her ears, leaning in close to her as if he could block her from the rest of the world. "Dora," he tried again, this time, in a softer voice. "I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath. Don't worry, I won't let anything else happen to you. I'll protect you, I promise."
At his words, her hands slowly left her ears, pulled down by Nathan's warm grip. She breathed out haggardly, tears streaking down her cheeks from her red-rimmed eyes.
"Yes, that's it. Take a deep breath." Reaching into his small little bag, Nathan withdrew another gun, placing it in Devora's hands. He wrapped her fingers around the sleek silver pistol, holding it up so that she could see the item properly. "Now I'll need your help. There's too many of them and I can't do this alone, okay?"
"But I can't!" Devora screamed, frantic. "I don't know how to use a gun! I've never fired one before!"
"I'll teach you." Calmly, Nathan unlocked the safety of the silver pistol, pointing to the trigger before showing her how to grip the weapon. "It's easy. Just relax your shoulders, aim, and pull the trigger. Follow through with the recoil, if any, to prevent any injury. It's going to be loud but—"
As he was explaining, a shadow that crept up behind Nathan from the shrubs caught Devora's attention. Although Nathan blocked most of her view, she could still see the stranger from over Nathan's shoulder. Tall, bulky, filled with tattoos and scars, and holding an atrociously big weapon like a typical mercenary from fiction. Her body reacted before she could even think, firing the gun over Nathan's shoulder. Miraculously, her bullet found its target, landing on the man's right shoulder as he jerked back with a yelp.
Nathan hissed at the sound of the gun going off, his hand slapping onto his ear as the shot went off. The ringing continued to buzz in his eardrums as he turned back, just in time to see the man stagger back to his feet, still not quite dead yet.
"Shit."
Raising his weapon, Nathan finished off what Devora had started. He fired once, his perfect aim forming a path for the bullet right through the man's skull. Now very much dead, the body collapsed onto the grass, motionless and no longer harmful.
"Oh my goodness," Devora muttered, blinking dumbly at the dead body. "He's dead. I helped kill him."
Temporarily ignoring Devora's words, Nathan stood to his feet. He fired a couple more shots at the other end, taking down more than half of the wave. While there were still people after them, the next group of men was significantly further back than the most recent one. He had at least bought them some more time. Even a single second was better than nothing.
To their right, a lone man had snuck closer towards them, his own gun in hand pointed directly at Devora who was still crouched to the floor, shivering in fright. When he fired a blank, Nathan cursed, realizing that he was already out. Unable to waste more time in reloading the gun, he reached for the blade hidden in his boot before flinging it as hard as he could, right before his enemy pulled the trigger that was aimed to kill. The small blade met its mark, digging through the man's right eye as he let out a torturous gurgle, dropping to his knees.
With the enemy temporarily subdued, Nathan went back to reloading his gun before casting Devora a glance. A sliver of pity slipped into his heart but he sifted that out quickly. This was no time for sympathy. It's a battlefield out there.
"Look," he started, sighing. "If you're not comfortable with taking lives, then don't. Aim for their legs, their arms, or maybe even their torsos. For now, I'll kill them for you. However, you've already stepped into this world. Right now, in this world, in my world, it's kill or be killed. There's no other choice available for you to make."
Aiming at the man who was still writhing on the ground in pain, Nathan fired another shot, the sound blaring through the forest. The man stopped immediately, all life in him lost to a single bullet.
"We fight to survive now. If they get either of us, we're dead. I can't go back without you because you're my responsibility. You're my mission. You, on the other hand, can't survive without me." Facing the incoming crowd, Nathan pulled out another spare gun, firing both in rapid succession. "You've got no supplies, no contact, no one to rely on. So it's either us or them. You have to make a choice."
Kill or be killed. Those words echoed in Devora's mind. She certainly had no desire to be a murderer but did she truly have a choice? There was no other way. All humans were selfish. If given a choice, most would still prioritize their own lives over the lives of their enemies.
The weapon in her hand was heavy but her thoughts weighed her down even more. If she didn't help Nathan, there's a chance he might die. He had proven to be someone trustworthy, more or less. At the very least, he's the only person Devora had exchanged so many words with. If he died here because she couldn't gather up her courage, would she be able to live with herself?
However, on the flip side, if she were to fire that gun and take a life, would she be able to live with herself?
Devora could only take one more shagged breath before she gathered herself. She wiped away the stray tears from her face, teeth biting down on her bottom lip as she looked up from the sleek silver weapon in her hands. From the corner of her eye, she spotted yet another man, one that was edging nearer and nearer, thinking himself undetected since Nathan was facing the opposite direction and currently engaged in a battle of bullets.
'Do you want him to die?' The thought flashed in Devora's mind. 'This man could kill the only friend you've ever had. Do you want him to die?'
There was no more doubt. All reason had been thrown off a cliff and tucked away. Now, in Devora's mind, there was only one final word.
Survive.
She raised her trembling hands, trying to steady them as best as she could. Then, she aimed, readying herself to fire and kill.
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