I feel like a bird. No. A feather. Weightless and free as I tumbled down into the depths of the Froskost, the wind flushing by my ears. I was free. Finally, free.
I closed my eyes, unable to scream or breathe, my body filling with a strange sense of relief as I waited for the hole to break my fall. The end would be brief; quick and snappy - just the way I wanted to go. It was my decision, and mine alone. It wasn't a Drone's or Officer's choice, nor was it Sergeant Hill's or Matthew's choice. It was mine.
A smile reached my ears. Death. So simple. So luxurious. A fate that was surprisingly calming, but was not designed to last, for in that brief moment of pleasure, a strong hand wrapped itself tightly around my wrist and jolted me out of my blissful state.
I jerked upright and out of the inner abyss of my mind; swaying suspended in mid-air by a single thread. My mind was a mess of confusion, and vertigo filled my head, making it swim in circles like the fog surrounding me. It obscured my awakening view and only granted me darkness as a gift in return. My eyes soon followed the swirl of fog upwards.
"I told you, we could make a deal," he heaved, slightly out of breath. His icy blue eyes had lost their humorous glint and his stout nose and creamy tanned skin swam in and out of the haze like he was a hologram. He looked upon me with great concern, his eyebrows furrowing like he suddenly cared about me.
"Fuck you!" I grumbled, now angry that the world had a personal vendetta against me. "Let go of me!"
He said nothing but blinked blankly down in my direction. I began to thrash against his grip, scraping my knee violently against a sharp rock. I cursed myself in pain as I jerked more violently, trying to break free from his grip. But against all the strain I placed on his arm, the bounty hunter still managed to keep his grip on me.
"LET GO OF ME!" I shrieked, trying to break loose and fall into the depths of the Frokost.
He didn't say anything and instead began to wince me up like I was a bucket in a well. The sharp edges of the rocks dug into my frozen skin like cat claws, ripping at my exposed flesh. Grunting, he dragged my helpless, thrashing body up and over the boulder. I pulled against his grip, resisting the best I could with my heels, but he only dragged me closer to him.
"You can't do this! Please!"
He pulled me away from the edge and down the rock face, all against my screaming protests. He was going to sell me back to Sergeant Hill - I could feel it in my bones. The mere thought scared me enough to wish that he hadn't bothered to save me at all, but no matter what I did he drew me in closer.
I could smell him as my nose reached his damp shirt. A mixture of the dew and his sweat, sweet like melting sugar. His warmth was oddly comforting against the cold and I tried to resist it, not wanting to let myself be reeled in.
"Come on," he said as he gently as he could, his arms furling around me to keep the heat in. "I'm not going to hurt you."
I felt myself relax into his arms, but my mind pulled in the other direction. I could feel myself giving in - slackening. He gave me the strange sensation of feeling secure, but not suffocated; something few had managed to achieve since the war began. I was not the type of person to get close to people, or hug them, yet here I was, trying to save my life whilst a stranger hugged and cooed softly at me.
I tried to pull away from his embrace, but he held fast.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
I didn't say anything, my body shrinking into his.
"I might be a bounty hunter for the government, but even I think stealing little girls is too much."
"I'm not little," I argued into his chest, sniffling a little with the cold.
He chuckled, a smile crossing his cheeks. "I meant short."
"I suppose we're going back to Maurice?" I reluctantly asked into his chest. Maurice made me feel physically sick and all I could think about was his gross poise and the way he touched me; his slimy hands laying mine across my back.
"I wasn't planning on it," he said, his voice coated in sugar as he tried not to push me to breaking point again. I broke away from him and searched his eyes in the dark as they glassed over with a kind of compassion only Allan had ever given me the courtesy of having.
"But won't he get mad and search for us?" I asked, slowly edging my way out of his hold.
"Nah, that piece of shit couldn't tell a dog from a cat. I've been looking for an excuse to leave him ever since we met."
"Why didn't you?"
"Contracts," was all he said as he looked up at the night sky, the mist now so thick the treeline several feet away was barely visible.
"I don't trust you," I whispered, glancing at my feet. It was better to be upfront with him than lie. He needed to know how I felt, and he seemed to understand that as he stood there for a moment biting the inside of his cheek in thought.
"There's something I need to do," he eventually said.
"What?" I asked confused, the trees behind him rustling in the stillness.
He thought nothing of it at first, dismissing it as a slight breeze, but it rustled again and this time it felt deliberate. Quickly, he shoved me behind him and pulled his gun out from the inside of his leather jacket.
"Come out with your hands up, Maurice."
Nothing.
How did he even know it was Maurice? In all honesty it could be anyone - or anything. It was probably just a rabbit. No need for violence.
"I will shoot you! Mark my word."
"Really?" a voice replied from beyond the fog. "Never thought ya would."
I watched in horror as the pot-bellied pig of a man emerged from the shadows. His face was flushed from the run - or speed walk in his case. His cheeks shone with sweat and the fog fondled with his damp and glistening cowlick. His shirt had thick patches of perspirant soaking his underarms and chest as though he had just exited from a sauna.
"Give me the girl."
"No."
"Bryce, give me the girl. She is mine!" he demanded.
"I found her!"
"And I tied her!" he snapped back at Bryce, advancing a step.
"And you did a terrible job," Bryce stated, gesturing towards me with his head and tightening his handhold on the pistol whilst squaring himself slightly.
"Mate, don't ya argue with me! You handed responsibility over to me the minute ya brought her into our camp. Ya know how we work. You bring me the goods; I do the negotiating. She is worth more than what ya think, and I am going to fetch the price for her. Me!"
"Not a chance!"
"Had a change of heart, have we? Do I need to remind ya about our contract?"
Bryce stared back into the snake's eyes. It was like the devil had possessed the man and there was nowhere else to run. I gulped, this contract must be everything to them, and I was just the next victim caught in a tiring game of trade-for-survival.
"I don't care about a goddamn contract that you signed to keep yourself from working in the slums! I'm sick and tired of this game you play. I'm no longer your partner - in anything!"
"That's no way to treat me, boy. I saved you, Bryce, and I want her as my reward. It's either you or her."
Through my tired eyes I saw Bryce look back at me with solace. There was a determination, a protective determination, in those eyes that somehow thought fate had brought him to this exact moment and now was his chance to go on a new adventure and seek change. If I ran, I don't think either of them would chase me. My stomach was past the point of rumbling and my eyes were drooping. I just wanted to sleep, maybe in the comfort of the bounty hunter's arms?
"Bryce, give her over. She is mine!"
Bryce paused. His mind seemed to be working overtime until finally his mouth opened with assurance that this was definitely the path he wanted to take. "You can't have her."
"Watch me."
Slowly, Maurice stepped forward, the blabber on his body jiggling with his steps. Bryce slid his gun back into its holster, concealing it within his jacket and waited for Maurice. I felt exposed, vulnerable, as I stood there, slightly bewildered at the advancement waddle of Maurice.
"Don't move," Bryce said over his shoulder. "Run if something bad happens."
Bryce launched himself at Maurice, taking him to the ground. They both tumbled and wrestled with each other in the dirt, the mystic moonlight breaking into pieces as dust flung up and merged with the fog. Maurice flipped Bryce over, pinning his arms back and sitting on him.
Bryce grunted as Maurice's chubby hands clutched tightly around his throat. I could see him gasping for air as he dug and clawed at Maurice's soft skin. I wanted to run and push Maurice off of him, but I was too scared to move my limbs. I watched on as Bryce continued to claw shreds of the man's skin off his hands, the lack of air turning him blue and rendering him virtually useless as he strained to breathe. Maurice gritted his teeth together applying more force onto Bryce's throat.
He tried to speak, his chest heaving in panic. His eyes slid over to me, begging me to run as his face reddened. With one last failed attempt, his eyes rolled back, and he slackened.
A single shot rang out. Like thunder before the storm, cutting through the silence like a knife. Bryce lay on the ground in a tangled, unmoving heap. Blood flowed out over him. Maurice's fingers slowly relaxed, and still I didn't have the power to move my limbs. I was stuck fast to the ground, like invisible glue had been applied to my shoes.
My throat was dry as my mouth tried to form the words I needed. Tears began flowing from my eyes. I had just witnessed yet another needless death. Maurice, now with a hole in head and his blood on the ground, was more of a secondary concern - he was a death that needed to happen. Bryce, however, didn't.
In shock, I stood rooted to the ground like a shaky lamb, staring at the scene. A gasp tore my mind back to reality as Bryce lay wreathing on the ground, gasping for air. I almost smiled, he was alive.
And then I saw it, bright and clear like an old memory as the boy walked forward and held a gun to Bryce's head.