Just another chapter I shortened because it was too long...
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Chapter 13.5
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I'm shaken awake by two small hands. "It's time to go!" Jamie looms in front of me.
I sit up slowly and wipe dream sand out of the corners of my eyes. The hair on my arm stands straight, still spiked from last night's terror. In the blurry haze of sleep I dreamt my tracker turned a bright yellow and split the main artery in my wrist. I bled out slowly, alone in the woods.
My stomach constricts with terror.
What if that actually happens?
None of us have any food so we start out on empty stomachs. I'm used to it now. I've gone without food for almost a week. Having 'dinner' last night was rare. I savored it as best as I could.
Deeper in the maze of city walls we run into more refugees. Like us, they are solemn and hurried. The Graduates only spare enough time to toss Jamie venomous looks. I want to tell them she isn't one of the murderers, that she's a Privilege, but I remain quiet.
The turf fades from soft grass to sharp gravel that pokes through the worn moccasins I salvaged from a discarded pile of old crates. As we near the opening of the ruins where civilization meets jungle, the 'city' looks more like an actual city. Here it seems that the walls and fortresses were skipped by whatever demolished the other parts of the city maze.
There are two houses painted a fading pink. We walk down a main street with empty businesses lined up on the sides. An auto shop. A grocery store. On the side of the road lies a strange, clunky car--an outdated version of Helion transport automobiles. This one has no wings or solar lights. And it still runs on oil, not cleyo.
It may be a hundred years old?
Fifty?
We pass it before I get an accurate guess.
The peaceful, calm silence everyone lapsed into ends as a howl ricochets through the streets. My lungs jolt and Kerry rapidly turns us back around. He and I lift Jamie up and do our best to run with her in tow. My eyes cloud with feverish panic.
"It's them," Jamie whispers, flicking her eyes to her arm.
Butcher.
Stampeding Graduates in the street adjacent to ours race away. The ones on ours do the same, some leaping into the open stores to hide. I choke on dust kicked up by running feet and push my body forward.
"They must have known people would come this way!" Jamie rasps. "They were planning a massacre!"
My insides melt along with my waning strength. Kerry forces our way through the thickening crowds scrambling to get away as he tries to head back the way we came. I can barely keep up. My lungs knot as I realize without a certain someone, we would be going so much faster.
We are edging towards the back of the stampede where Raider's ride on the panicked mob's heels. Glistening metal rods fly up and over. One of the rods stabs into the back of the boy in front of us, slicing open a main artery. I know it from the way a waterfall of red immediately spurts up to the skies.
He lurches forward, falling onto the gravel, becoming a mat for screaming Graduates to run over.
Because of her we might be next, I think, glancing at Jamie. It's a terrible thing to think. But I can't shut up logic.
"Kerry," I scream over the noise. "If we split up we can meet back at the wall."
"No, Phoenix." He replies with intensity. "We stay together."
"I'm slowing us down and you know it!"
He looks at me incredulously, knowing that it couldn't be further from the truth. His eyebrows gather, likely wondering why I'm putting the blame on myself. But he forgets someone must lead the murderers another way. One of us must take the fall. If not, we all do.
Another Graduate's tired flesh meets sharp metal. They fall with a low groan and my eyes fill with water.
"We're getting out together!" Kerry shouts.
An unexpected lump of emotion lodges itself in my throat.
"I'll see you at the wall!" I reply with uncharacteristic cheerfulness. Kerry's fast and I know he can make it out with Jamie if someone distracts our pursuers. My weak arms let go of Jamie's weight and she falls fully onto Kerry. Kerry stops completely. Jamie whips toward me with big eyes.
"No!" She screeches. "Leave me! You'll make it out if you leave me!"
Shoving through the stampede, I fight to make it to the side of the road. Hollers follow behind and among them I hear Kerry's cry.
"Phoenix!"
"Phoenix!"
'Phoenix!'
Fingernails and elbows slam into my face, sure to create ugly bruises for later. Someone claws at my skin as they trip and fall. Another shoves me. For a split second I'm sure I'll lose my balance.
Despite the opposition, I make it to the cracking sidewalk and slip into a nearby alley. Before I disappear into the darkness I look back for Kerry in the sea of tragic faces.
He's gone.
My chest tightens and I burst into silent sobs. I didn't want to do it, but enough people have died.
And Jamie already barely hanging on. If they got her again...
Sucking in a breath of courage, I signal a pack of murderers cutting up the back row of runners. Blood falls like rain. A Raider with limp hair and crimson splattered all over his insidious smile bursts into laughter at my audacity. He shakes a comrade and points. Watching, I'm overcome with how stupid my plan is. What person with common sense would leave a whole field of victims for one stupid, irrational waif? I'm not tempting enough--I'm—
By God, somehow it works.
A group breaks away, charging for me.
I dash into the darkness and navigate through the inner maze. The noise of panic and death fades and an awful silence takes over. Sometimes it's broken by a creak, or plummeting, rotten boards. Though by the time, I catch a glimpse of an exit, the recognizable screeches of Raiders on the prowl pollute the alley.
Following the exit, I step out on a deserted clearing. The wreckage of civilization is all around except for one, still standing, ancient gas station. After brief hesitation I run over. It's the only place to hide.
As I open it's splintered glass door to the structure, a rusty bell rings, the sound echoing through the shop. I flinch. Inside are ten rows lined with food wrapped in melting plastic and outdated books. A few rat-chewed newspapers dot the floor. Overgrown vines climb the peeling walls and surround what appears to be the register.
Everything looks dingy.
Swallowing hard, I make my way to the middle row. The sun outside filters through a cracked window near the ceiling, allowing enough light for me to see. On the shelves stand food that I hurriedly stuff into my pockets until they bulge. For my own good I should hide, but hunger makes you stupid.
My hand falters as I reach for a magazine with a familiar face plastered on the cover. 'Dr. Halifax gets Nurseries approved. The first generation of babies will be transferred within a week.'
"What?"
The word has just left my lips when voices outside catch my attention. I stand swiftly, instinctively hunting for a hiding place. My eyes pause on the deteriorating register.
I curl behind it, shoving myself as far under it as I can. When the bell on the door rings, announcing company, I bite my lip hard, drawing blood. This is insane! This is suicide! Why did I do this? I've torn myself from Kerry! I'll be lucky if I make it out of here with my head still on!
Light footsteps tread away from the counter and into the shoulder high rows. I clamp my hands over my mouth and let the tears roll. A small part of me wishes Kerry let her go--let Jamie fall. But the rest of me revolts and burns the selfish ugliness to the ground.
Guessing that the Raiders' back should be to me, I scoot forward a little and peek over the register. The first thing I see is a looming black uniform. I gasp involuntarily.
Goosebumps rise on my skin and I drop back behind the counter, clutching my heart. Did they hear?
The rusty bell on the door rings again and several more loud, raucous voices enter. I don't bother making out what they say, and instead choosing to bore my eyes into the wall in front of me. My body drums, and my senses are at the peak of awareness. My grimy fingers dig into the earthy floor beneath me and I shut down, just like I did under a bed five years ago.
Don't let them find me, is all I can think.
Minutes go by and the sharp laughter drifts farther away. The doorbell rings again. I give a soundless wheeze. When will they leave?
"Move from behind the counter."
Complete, ugly horror drowns my system. After a second aggressive prompting, I move out from my hiding place, carefully turning my head in the direction of the voice.
I find myself looking straight at the barrel of a gun.
Another jolt of terror rips through me. I suck in dingy air. My gaze flicks up and connects with startling empty eyes.
They are just like a Fynx's blank, colorless eyes. Except these aren't completely clear. There's a faint shade of cerulean blue that keeps them from being as transparent as water.
I'm frozen, staring at those eyes and hoping they don't look as empty as I think. Lifeless eyes mean lifeless people.
This enemy doesn't smile, doesn't frown. His angular face does nothing. Only his matted, hip-length hair, the color of the blackest midnight, moves in the air filtering in from a crack in the ceiling. He is focused and motivated by deadly intent, and it's in this moment I know he will kill me.
Struggling against the urge to cry, I bore my eyes into his hard set face, determined to die looking death in the face. Another tear trails down my cheek.
A flash of sympathy bursts in his eyes, and then it dies just as quickly as it came. Or I could just be fooling myself. Maybe I just can't face the truth that people can kill in cold blood.
In a swift motion the male rises to his full height, casting a long shadow on the floor. He turns the gun to the blunt end before bashing it into my skull. I black out in the next moments, and crumple to the floor.
A low ringing noise pings in my head. Pain crashes on me, it's paralyzing enough to keep me still.
The only thing I can do is whimper once.
"She's dead," the male booms, the sound enveloping the entire store.
"I didn't hear a gunshot," comes a reply and scampering feet.
"I didn't shoot," he says, "there's no need to waste a bullet."
I struggle not to move, not to breathe.
"She's still breathing," the newcomer says.
"She won't be for long," he replies unflinchingly.
A Raider coughs and another clears their throat. "I say we shoot her," the voice says, "just to make sure."
"Are you disagreeing with me, Kade?"
An awkward silence reigns.
"No Butcher," Kade replies eventually, "I'm not."
"Good." is the response. "I'd hate to place you next to her with a bullet in your skull. Or perhaps a rusty fork in your jugular." There's a defining pause. "There are always other's to take your place in the clan, others who won't question me or my motives."
To the other's, the alpha male commands, "Move out!"
And they do, leaving me in throes but nonetheless alive.