Last of the aesthetics! Honestly, this perfectly displays Eli's dangerous purity and I can't handle how much I love it!! Let me know your thoughts!
Now, enjoy!
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Brandon led our charge into the stairwell and down to the lowest level with Tiff following behind Corinth and I, providing extra support in case Corinth couldn't handle the descent. She was strong, she always has been. But even now I noticed how she struggled and I felt her pain as she struggled to keep up with her brother's pace.
Once on the ninth floor, I felt myself shrinking against Corinth for safety and warmth. The shades of this hallway swallowed me as it had when I was first brought to this horrible place and this time, I felt the darkness slithering along my skin like snakes on the prowl. It scraped down my back and stabbed at every open cut along my arms, as if the very space around us was poisoned.
The atmosphere of this hallway could only be described as the closest incarnation of hell on earth.
Brandon was on high alert, his wide eyes swinging from one end of the hallway to the other and back again, on constant surveillance of our surroundings in case any witnesses came blundering. But from the whimpers behind these closed doors, I assumed anyone who might stop our escape was probably preoccupied and too busy to notice. We traveled quickly, we traveled quietly, and we traveled with closed ears to those who suffered out of sight.
We didn't come here to save everyone, I reminded myself, it is impossible to save everyone. It will be a miracle if we manage to save ourselves.
Halfway down the hall, Brandon stopped in front of two immaculate black wooden doors that I hadn't noticed during my first visit. They were intricately detailed, carved with designs that seemed random until closer inspection, unto which I noticed skulls with jagged teeth, hellhounds with eyes that glowed red, and flames licking up towards the ceiling as though these doors were once engulfed in fire and now retained eternal scars.
When I was first brought down here, I really didn't want to go through the door of the Count's playroom.
But I really, really didn't want to go through this door. At all.
Unknowing of my fears, Tiff took hold of the brass doorknob with a hand unsteady, and she forced the monstrous door aside, herding us inside before shutting it again with a booming thud that did little to hide our presence. As per my request, Corinth set me down near the door then rushed forward to help Brandon set Dustin down beside me.
The room was no brighter than the hallway, if at all possible, it was darker. I could barely see inches in front of my face, let along wherever this room ended. Around us were dark walls with no light fixtures to be seen but the space stretched forward to where the rest of the room lay in darkness beyond what my senses were able to detect. Like staring through murky water, my eyes played tricks on what I thought I saw and I did my best to ignore the way shadows stalked around us in the carnivorous twilight of charcoal magnitude.
It was hard to believe anyone willingly chose to reside in a place as dreary as this.
"Watch him." Brandon ordered, laying Dustin on his back with his head near my hip, "And try to wake him up. This whole thing will go much smoother if he can walk on his own." Corinth and Tiff vanished into the darkness ahead and Brandon followed after them at a jog, calling out, "If anyone comes through that door, kill them."
I almost laughed, "What do you propose I kill them with?"
His voice drifted back to me after he had already disappeared from my sight, "Bore them to death with your personality, that ought to do the trick."
Top of my to do list: kill Brandon King.
Now alone with only Dustin's unconscious presence beside me, I felt very small. Very weak.
Very insignificant.
If the Count returns, he will kill me. Not Dustin, only me, because the Count's plans are not dependent on my survival. They are, however, dependent on Dustin's survival. That might give us leverage, not much, but some. I crouched next to Dustin and let my injured leg stretch out to give it some ease while I tried rousing him.
Being this close to him was an experience lost to me, almost foreign. I hated to admit that distance and time have separated us beyond physical range. For weeks I could not touch him, could not hold him. How many nights had passed where I dreamed of him holding me? Kissing me? Promising he would return only for those whispers of empty vows to awaken me from my nightmares with skin slick from sweat and a heart pounding in remembered adoration that has since been violated by his absence.
By his broken promise.
The sound of his laugh still haunts my every thought and plagues my every memory, the ghost of his caress tormenting me into delirium. And now he is in my reach, practically in my hands. So very close and yet, so very far away.
From this proximity, I noticed so much more than any of the times I saw him in his cell, and instant tears sprung to my eyes. His hair was indeed longer and stubble hugged the curve of his jaw, consuming the strong chisel I once cherished tracing. His skin was much more pale than I remembered and his overall physique had diminished significantly. What once was pure muscle had succumbed to atrophy, leaving him slender, thin, with his cheeks hallowed inward and his frame slimming, becoming boney and oddly angular.
I awaited the charge of our skin in contact, that electrical jolt we shared. Although I felt his shock, it was weaker than before and without the force the normally stole the very breath from my lungs. He felt delicate in my hold, fragile. Was this how he viewed me?
Breakable?
I swallowed several times before I was able to speak, and even then my words mounted on hushed tones so no one passing by from the hallway could hear, "Dustin?" I was scared, why was I so scared, "Can you hear me?" What if he doesn't wake up, "Dustin, please, you have to open your eyes."
Still he said nothing, he didn't move.
"Dustin?" I called a little louder, "Wake up."
Nothing.
I shook him, lightly to assess his response then rougher when none came, "Dustin!" I tapped at his cheeks as Corinth had, "Wake up!"
The smallest of breaths, a simple flicker near his eyes. A gesture so minuscule but one that meant progress was ensuing. I jostled him harder, called out to him louder, relentless in my attempts and growing more aggressive-
His fingers twitched!
"Dustin!" I cupped his face in my hands, his skin now blazing against mine as if his movements generated heat, and I drummed my fingers along the soft spot just under his closed eyelids, "Dustin, come on baby, come on! I know you can hear me! Dustin you have to – yes, that's it! Open your eyes!"
His jaw slackened and hi lips fell open, a groan rumbled from deep within his chest, and the reaction I have been seeking was granted. Finally his eyelids parted and violet was revealed, subdued by confusion and circling unconsciousness with pupils dilated, focus wavering, consciousness evading him even now.
"Sa ... Sadie?" He breathed out, still swamped by sedatives and losing against their distortion, "What are you ... what ..." He could barely form the words and his eyes dipped shut once again, " ... what's ... happening?"
I continued tapping at his cheeks to ground him, forcing him out of that enveloping daze, "No, no, no, Dustin you have to stay awake. Stay with me, stay awake. We can't carry both of you."
"Both?" He whispered, lifting a weak hand to his head that ultimately missed its intended destination and collapsed against the carpet.
To keep him from slipping back under the compulsion of sedation, I helped him into a sitting position and leaned him against the wall where he swayed dangerously and slumped against me. I tried holding him up but even after losing weight, residual muscle made him heavy and I struggled to keep him from squishing me.
"I don't ... I can't ..." His head rolled against the wall and his breaths came slow, deepened by the tranquilizers threatening to pull him away. His arms sagged in his lap from looming exhaustion, his eyes blinked shut, and I watched as strength abandoned him, "I can't ..."
I moved closer, holding his head up to save him strength. My thumbs rubbed wide arches over his cheeks to spark friction and I coaxed his eyes with my own, "It's okay. For right now, all you have to do is stay awake. Okay? Just stay awake, listen to me Dustin, listen to what I'm saying." While I talked, he tried so hard to obey. His head was heavy in my grasp and I almost couldn't hold it.
From where his head was bowed, I couldn't see the trajectory of his stare but soon enough, his fluctuating gaze noticed the state of my arms. Despite his weakness, he turned his head and curled a languid hand around my wrist. His hand landed tediously atop mine and our arms flopped into his lap, where he could inspect it fully.
His movements had little control and his fingers poked at the cuts along my arms.
He said only one word but the force behind it reminded me of the Dustin I used to know, "Who?"
I turned my hand over and took his in mine, leaning closer so he could only view my face rather than my injuries, "Don't worry about that right now, just focus on staying awake."
His eyebrows drew together and though his eyes were uncoordinated and bemused, they first noticed the blood and bruises splashed across my cheeks. Then as his stare dropped, taking in every mark left by the Count's blade, and he finally found the mess of crimson saturated along my leg.
The air around him shifted, his energy gained life then detonated. The sedatives were plundered and their effect ravaged. Magenta suns dawned in his eyes and chased away the impenetrable darkness around us, enslaving and forcing those shadows to flee from the man who compelled even Death to kneel, "Who did this to you."
It wasn't a question, because he knew the answer.
"I'm fine." I promised frantically and gave him my smile, the smile that I knew he loved.
Abruptly he pushed away from me and was on his feet, staggering hazardously and ramming his shoulder against the wall from lack of balance. I lunged after him through a limp and tried unsuccessfully to stop him, "Don't Dustin, you need to rest-"
"I need to ... kill. Him. Kill him." Dustin mumbled incoherently. His head dangled forward and his eyes hooded. The farther he advanced, the lower he sank until he dropped violently to his knees with only my grip and the wall keeping him up. But even once on his knees, still he moved forward, trying to stand but unable to do so, "I'm ... going ... to ... kill ..."
His fury wasn't sustained and exhaustion took him. He collapsed forward, labored breaths retching from his chest. I dropped down beside him, taking his shoulders tightly and clawing at his skin to hold him, "You are an idiot, do you know that?! I told you that you have to stay awake!"
From where he was slumped against the floor, his eyes were nearly shut and his lips moved minimally, "I'm going to ... I'm going to ..."
"You are not going to do anything, do you hear me?" I forced him upright and pinned him against the wall with as much pressure as I could muster without causing too much pain, only enough to stay his unconsciousness, "Look at me Dustin. I said, look at me!"
That same violet gaze swung towards me but the suns had set; now they were drowning, disoriented, hounded by medication and badgered below waves of tranquilizers. Desperately searching for a lifeline.
"Just keep looking at me." I ordered, quieter than before, "As long as you are looking at me, everything will be okay." His eyes began dropping and I returned my hold to his face, demanding his stare, "Look at me, Dustin."
He was so lost, unable to find his way out of the labyrinth the Count planted. His eyes held mine but they didn't see me, I wasn't sure what they saw. They were imprisoned and disorderly, chaotically compromised.
"Come back to me, Dustin." I begged of him, my eyes darting between his to find a portion of the man I remembered, "Tell me what I can do to help you."
Still he stared, without seeing or speaking, but his hands sluggishly lifted away from the floor and hung in the air, swaying, before they landed on my hips and weakly ushered me closer. He pulled me onto his lap and tucked me close to his body, his arms enclosing a majority of my back, his head resting wearily against my chest.
The sound of his fractured voice spilled the tears that had been building behind my eyes.
"I'm sorry, Sadie." He breathed out softly, "I'm sorry." Another breath, and another, "I'm so sorry." He kept saying it, over and over again, each one quieter than the time before until only his lips brushed against my collarbone without sound, forming words but missing of the power required to say them aloud.
"Shh." I cradled his head against me and threaded my fingers through his hair, "Don't talk, save your strength."
He pressed his cheek harder against the base of my neck and his arms tightened around me, digging his fingers into my sides and piercing them between ribs. His breath was hot, his skin was cold, and the voice with which he professed his shame settled in my soul the way moonlight settles atop rippling water, "I'm sorry I did this to you, Sadie."
How could it be?
How can this man, raised by monsters and trained by deceivers, possibly have a heart so pure? Anyone else would have been ruined by their past, a product of their environment and wicked from a lifetime of negligence. If it had been burdened upon any other person, a man with demonic morals would have been born and any hope of redemption lost. But this man, abused as a boy and expected to conform as an adult, sat before me with unrivaled innocence I didn't know still existed inside of him.
He is still my flower; surrounded by an impenetrable exterior to protect the petals within, unavoidably guarded by thorns to spare the beauty others seek to destroy.
That is what becomes of those who are responsible for the lives of others; they become what is needed. They do what must be done in order to protect those around them. Dustin is no exception. Who he may have been if the Tribe never existed is a mere fantasy now. The Dustin I saw, the Dustin I loved, is the only Dustin who matters.
And that Dustin is mine, his heart belongs to me.
I will not let him suffer at the hands of another human as he has since the moment of his birth. I will protect him from everyone who has ever wronged him, punished him, hurt him, betrayed him. They twisted him into a killer, then blamed him for his behavior. They corrupted his virtue, then accused his personal weakness for reasoning behind his actions.
They turned him into a monster that everyone fears, they forced him into a nightmare he can't wake up from.
But not anymore.
Not ever again.
I will be his sword. I will be his shield. And heads will roll before another soul ever makes Dustin King feel as though he must apologize for the transgressions of others.
"Stop, Dustin. Please stop." Being so close to my heart, surely he must hear how it tripped and raced, keeping rhythm with his own. I pressed my lips to his forehead and held myself there, lingering, "Don't worry about any of that right now, just focus on yourself. Please, just this once."
So very slowly, he sat back to lean against the wall and I kept my hand cupped around the back of his head while lowered him against the wood to keep his skull from thumping. From where he sat, his neck craned ever so slightly to view me, "Tell me you are alright." His hands at my sides squeezed tighter, curling me closer, drawing me in until no space separated us, and from his lips came a sultry command, "Tell me, Dimples."
The sound of that name sent rare bliss rampaging through my heart and additional tears rolled from my lashes. I tilted my head towards his to enhance our intimacy, "I am alright, Dustin."
He couldn't lift his hands to move me, so his fingers dug deeper into my back to coerce my proximity, causing my chest to thrust against his. My arms tangled around him while my fingers traced his face, and that same dominating timbre rolled from him, "Don't lie to me."
My fingers brushed his lips, "I would never."
There was a smile in his voice, "Oops ... another lie."
He pressed a kiss against the base of my neck before I could protest and the sensation of such a tender peck unleashed goosebumps across the surface of my skin. His smile turned upward and I faltered at the sight of heaven in his eyes, "I missed you, Dimples."
When his lips touched my neck a second time, I felt myself falling, all over again, hard and fast. So overwhelmingly charming, so dangerously irresistible, "I missed you too."
My thumbs framed his mouth from where my hands rested over his cheeks and before I realized how powerless I was to his grace, I found myself leaning forward to finally revive what was stolen weeks ago. His eyes dropped towards my lips and his hold became fire around me, a glorious burn I never wanted to extinguish.
But before our lips met, muffled voices sounded from the darkness and I knew our private solidarity would soon be over. I want to kiss him, I have never felt an urge as strong as the one begging me to close the distance and claim him. But I knew my limitations. If I start, I won't want to stop. And our first kiss since being reunited shouldn't be in a place like this.
"It's okay, Dimples." Dustin whispered as he pulled away and one of his hands slid upwards to tuck my hair behind my ear. He stare was so serene and his smile still held traces of paradise while he watched me lean into his hand, "We don't need to rush."
I want to, I want to rush our love and progress our connection until we were dizzy with emotion and manic with desire. But I can't bring myself to show him that affection while huddled in this room that Count Marx called his home.
My hand covered his and pressed it closer to my face, "Everything is going to be okay now." I kissed his palm, "I promise."
His smile grew, he trusted me.
He didn't require evidence or need further persuasion. My vow alone was enough for him and he gave himself to that pledge. So easily he believed me, believed in me, and finally – for the first time in his life – Dustin let someone else share the weight of his world.
From the darkness our group returned but Dustin didn't let me go, and I had no desire to leave him.
But as our group neared, I saw our numbers had grown by one; one who was dragged between Brandon and Tiff, both of whom struggled under the weight of the body they hauled. The three of them stopped beside us while Corinth jogged past to check the hallway. Using the wall to lower Lumiere proved futile and his body slipped from their hold.
Dustin and I both turned towards him and so promptly the euphoria of our reunion was swept away by the smell of blood.
Lumiere's body hit the ground roughly with muscles knotted, dreadfully severe and agonizing toward their host. Through the darkness, I only saw splatters of scarlet and I realized very quickly that the color dripped down his body in rivers. Brandon and Tiff were bent at their waists with hands propped on their knees, swallowing mouthfuls of air from the extreme effort it took to transport Lumiere's limp body, and they watched him closely as if they feared he might perish without warning.
Dustin tensed under me, his hold turned to stone around my waist, and his voice came out hoarse, "Lumiere?"
"Dustin, stay here." I demanded.
He tried shifting forward, ignoring me, and called louder, "Lumiere?!"
In his current state I was able to hold him down and surprisingly, he let me restrain him, "Just stay here, I will check on him. Don't fall asleep."
I crawled towards Lumiere using mostly my uninjured leg and the closer I got brought clarity to the full extent of his condition. Like Dustin, his shirt was missing and like me, his body was littered with cuts. Luckily, most of them were not life threatening, but the amount of blood showered over him was a concern.
As was the expansive, gruesome 'X' engraved into his hip, stretching halfway up his side, slicing over his ribs, defiling him with the Count's stamp of ownership.
My tears returned and I couldn't stop the way my words choked in my throat, "Oh Lumiere ... what did he do to you?"
Noticing my presence for the first time, Lumiere opened his eye but it was a slow movement that took too long to complete. His usual, lazy smile appeared over his bruising face but it was trammeled by fatigue, "Don't cry for me, sweetheart. After all," He grimaced, either from his own pain or the quality of my leg where his hand now rested, "I could ask you the same thing."
I threw my arms around him, ignoring the slush of his blood seeping into my shirt and the hiss that slipped from his lips. I had to bite down on my bicep to keep my jaw from trembling, "I thought he was going to ... I didn't know if you were ... I thought – damn it Lumiere! I thought ..."
His chest rose and fell against mine in a constrained sigh. His arms returned my hold and landed loosely around my back, delivering a warmth only he could provide, "I'm sorry, Sadie. I didn't mean to make you worry."
"Don't apologize." I told him through my tears. He had nothing to apologize for, neither did Dustin. Yet they both bid me their apologies as if it were their fault for their own suffering, "I'm the one who should apologize. You keep getting hurt because of me and I don't know how to make it stop." My grip tightened, "I'm sorry that I don't know how to make it stop."
"Hush, love. I don't want to hear any of that nonsense, we both know I would have got myself into trouble one way or another." He said into my hair. I sat back and took his face in my hold as I had with Dustin, to examine what the Count left behind. Lumiere's lip was busted on top and bottom, a cut over his eyebrow leaked blood down his face, but thankfully his eyepatch was still in place; loose and crooked, but hiding what Lumiere hated most.
"You look awful." I whispered to him, wiping the blood from his eye with the collar of my shirt.
He laughed, deeper than usual, "Oh how I have missed your way with words. Truly Sadie, you bless me with your brutal honesty."
I ignored his remarks and glanced towards his side, "Did he ..."
"You don't want to know." Lumiere answered bluntly. Somber. His smile modified to match the ghosts in his stare, "I know how you are Sadie, and I know you want to ask. But please," He tried to hide the shudder of his voice and the trauma swimming in his lagoon gaze, "Please, just let this memory die with me."
It wasn't my place to ask. Soliciting an explanation from him would only replay those nightmares in his mind and force him to relive each sadistic moment. How could I do that to him after all he has suffered because of me?
I nodded to his request and pulled him close yet again, embracing him firmly with hands that shook from where they clasped around the nape of his neck, "I am sorry, Lumiere." He will never know how much, "I am so sorry."
"I know." He rubbed along my back, following the path of my spine, then capped my shoulders and guided me away so he could look me over once again. The melancholy had dispersed from his smile but it remained behind his eye, and I feared how long it would take him to forget what happened beyond the darkness, "Are you okay? I have to admit, you look pretty badass with that bandage around your leg. Finally letting me rub off on you, huh? Atta girl, embrace the recklessness."
A small laugh, only enough to be heard, "You would have been proud."
He lifted my chin from where it had fallen, "I always am."
There was a stifled breath beside us, perhaps an attempt of a laugh. But when we turned towards Dustin to grade his reaction, we found him with his head hanging forward and his hands idle beside him. I lurched from Lumiere's side, at the same time he pushed me towards Dustin to help me reach him without using my injured leg, "Hey, Dustin, hey wake up!"
It was easier to stir him and this time Dustin's eyes snapped open at the sound of my voice, though still they had not cleared. He blinked hard several times, cursing to himself, "Sorry ... I didn't realize that I was ..."
Lumiere skimmed Dustin's body, raking his gaze from Dustin's head to his feet, observing and recording every blemish against his skin from the bruises along his face to the nauseating condition of his leg and finally to the bestial disposition ravaging Dustin's gut where the gauze around his torso collectively grew worse as time continued. Each new disfiguration deepened Lumiere's frown.
"Hey there, brother." Concern for Dustin's health was clearly plastered across Lumiere's face but his voice came out soothing to keep us all at ease, "Do we know how to celebrate a reunion or what?"
Dustin was still so weak and he could barely keep his head up, but his shoulders shook with silent laughter and the corners of his mouth tilted upward from a grin only Lumiere could conjure, "We sure do."
Lumiere's benevolence chipped at the sound of Dustin's mellow reply, minimal in effort and missing of the sarcasm Lumiere had been expecting. With Dustin concentrating on keeping himself awake, I exchanged a glance with Lumiere. Usually he calms my fears but in that instant, he only exaggerated them.
Because Lumiere was worried, genuinely worried.
And everyone knows to tread lightly when a careless man finds something worth fighting for.
Corinth returned from where she had been monitoring the hallway, "It's all clear. If we are going to make a run for it, now is the time."
Brandon regained his composure and steadied his breathing before kneeling in front of Dustin and placing a hand on his shoulder, "Hey man, are you able to-"
A shift of air brushed past my chin, the only warning as a fist launched from beside me, and the sound of cracking bone trumpeted disturbingly loud from Brandon's face. He was catapulted off his feet and hurled ferociously onto his back with a bark of vulgarities slurring from his mouth while blood dripped from his now slightly skewed nose.
"That is for bringing them here." Dustin grumbled through a breathy, angered laugh that sounded more animal than human, "Welcome back from the dead, asshole."
Lumiere joined him, Corinth was grinning, Tiff looked startled.
I was trying, unsuccessfully, to keep the smile from my face.
Although he is trying to reconcile the severity of his mistakes, Brandon has lost considerable faith with everyone in the room. Dustin most of all. Retaliation was bound to happen but I assumed it would have been by Lumiere's hand. Leave it to Dustin to accomplish the impossible and give Brandon a taste of the humiliation he has so graciously served to everyone around him.
Brandon rolled onto his side and spit blood onto the carpet, using the back of his hand to wipe the blood leaking down his face while glaring at his cousin, "I suppose I deserved that."
"And more." Dustin added cooly.
Corinth crouched in front of her brother, inspecting his nose from afar, "It's definitely broken."
Brandon's voice came out damp, "No shit-"
Quicker than a hiccup, Corinth braced each of her thumbs on either side of his nose and snapped it back into place. Brandon howled and aggressively shoved her away. She rolled her eyes, "Oh I'm sorry, did that hurt?"
"Fuck off." Brandon griped rudely, tentatively touching his nose to make sure it was straight. It was no surprise to hear him throwing insults, "Still working on that temper, I see?"
Dustin's arm braced firmly around his mid section, but neither the pain or sedation diminished how his words boiled, "You're lucky I can't see straight, my aim was a little off. A little more to the left and-"
"My nose would be in my brain, trust me I know." Brandon wiggled his nose, testing its placement and feeling for its symmetry. He wasn't quite happy but he wasn't quite mad either, "You always were a better fighter than me."
"Still am." Dustin's words were coming slower and that bob of his head returned.
"Alright children, that's enough." I informed loudly, "We can do the whole 'I hate you and will make you pay fee fi fo fum' thing once we are away from here. Until then, let's play nice."
My jibe got varying results from those around me.
Brandon took a few moments more to explore the condition of his nose before he picked himself up and used the bottom of his shirt to clear the rest of the blood from his face, "You are right, enough wasted time." Always about punctuality with him, "Let's go."
Dustin's eyes befell his cousin with a great deal of shock at so easily accepting my authority and following an order not bestowed by someone of immense power. I will admit, finding common ground with Brandon has been no easy feat but through our shared encounters we have come to an understanding of reducing annoyances. We stay out of each other's way, simple as that.
But for Dustin, it must have been astounding to witness a man as stubborn as Brandon granting subordination to my demands, coming from not only a teenage girl but an outsider.
Tiff knelt on Dustin's other side and stared sympathetically at Brandon, "Maybe I should carry Dustin from now on, if only to keep warfare at bay."
Lumiere blanched, "Hey, I don't want Brandon to carry me either!"
"Suck it up, princess." Brandon snipped at him and begrudgingly hooked Lumiere's arm around his neck, lifting him up and holding him close to keep him steady.
Lumiere batted his eye, "My hero."
"Shut up."
"Is that any way to speak to a lady?"
"Lumiere, I swear to God-"
While they continued to fuss, I supervised how Tiff lifted Dustin, holding him similarly to how Brandon was holding Lumiere. I was surprised by the amount of power in her legs, she lifted them both in one swift movement, without visible strain, to limit Dustin's discomfort. Once on his feet, Tiff gave Dustin a moment to gather his senses, and said humbly, "It's good to see you again, Dustin."
He nodded, securing his hold around her shoulders, "Always a pleasure, Tiff."
Corinth arrived in front of me, "Ready?"
To match the pace of our group, I quickly returned to my spot on her back and she adjusted me while we stood. But in our haste, her elbow accidentally jabbed against my thigh and excruciating heat jolted through my leg like lightning. I managed to suppress a majority of my cries but a disobedient whimper escaped and my face acted without permission, scrunching in reaction to the incineration of my nerves.
Corinth looked back at me in panic, drawing unwanted attention from our group, and she lowered herself back down as if she sought to release me, "Shit Sadie, I'm sorry!" She saw the expression on my face and her skin paled, "I didn't mean to-"
"It's okay." I forced out through gritted teeth, driving my forehead against the back of hers and using her hair as a curtain to hide how my face grimaced, "It's okay, it's okay. I'm okay," If I say it enough, it might come true, "I'm fine, I'm okay."
No one, least of all me, believed the words I was saying.
Dustin's hand slipped from his stomach and reached for me, "Sadie-"
"Let's go." I cut in.
I said this to Brandon directly. Out of everyone here, he cared the least and he would put the success of this mission over any individual. We need him to lead us with extreme prejudice, especially now that we are all together. Everyone else will cater to my needs, or Lumiere's, or Corinth's, or Dustin's. We are a family, of course we feel the need to accommodate each other. But we can't afford that sympathy right now.
Brandon has relinquished his ability to relate and has deserted any notion of compassion. He has forsaken his role in this family. In order to make it out of here alive, we need Brandon's apathy and indifference.
As expected, without further notice of my pain, Brandon nodded and started for the door while towing Lumiere behind him, "Aye, let's go."
I didn't look at Dustin as he passed in Tiff's hold, I already knew what I would see. He has an uncanny ability to place others above him without ever giving regard to his own safety or health and if one were unfortunate enough to be viewed upon those brooding eyes, most certainly their identity of self would wither.
I didn't want him to worry about me. Not now, not after everything he has endured.
Brandon wrenched the door open and maneuvered himself and Lumiere out into the hall, Tiff dragged Dustin's lethargic body after them, and Corinth and myself followed from the back. I closed the door behind us and jerked my hand away after the knob shocked my fingertips.
A taunting farewell.
That alone should have been warning enough to how this escape would go.
Brandon led our group down the hallway at a faster pace than before and that same sense of dread crept into my bones, chilling them. My heart was hammering painfully in my chest and I wondered if Corinth could feel it against her back.
She was panting below me, in front of us I saw Dustin's feet began to drag, and at the front Lumiere was nearly doubled over. Our group is in no condition to fight. Then again, if we get caught, fighting won't do much good. Count Marx is too skilled and war is his trade, we are outranked in every sense. Our strongest fighter is sedated and without the safety of our numbers, we are at a massive disadvantage and we are vulnerable; the way mice are vulnerable in a snake den.
If the Tribe were here, we might stand a chance.
On our own we will, unmistakably, fail.
Only halfway down the hall, Brandon stopped. I assumed he either heard or saw dangers that might jeopardize our escape but after a quick survey of the hall, he turned and poked at the wall beside him. When we caught up to him, I saw that we were standing in front of a vintage elevator with doors so dark that they blended into the ebony shades of this soot colored hall.
"This is the Councilmen's personal elevator." Brandon explained through rapid breaths, constantly looking down either end of the hall for unwanted company.
His words left us all uneasy and I questioned his reasoning, "I thought you said it was too risky to take their elevator."
His weight shifted impatiently while waiting for doors to open, "Using this elevator to sneak in would have been a death wish. Using it to sneak out," He spoke as though he were reading from a script, monotone and droning, "Is suicide."
Corinth and I both looked towards the staircase at the end of the hall and she asked, "They why are we doing this?"
"Because it took us five minutes to get from the Count's chambers to this elevator when it should have only taken one. We won't make it up nine flights of stairs trying to carry these three so the only other option is this elevator." The doors in front of us binged then slid open, and Brandon gulped, "Say a prayer, I doubt this will work."
How inspiring. Our mission leader, ladies and gentlemen!
We crammed ourselves into the elevator which was smaller than I would have thought for a group of men who clearly used the immaculate design of their headquarters to make up for what they lacked below the belt, though I would never say so out loud. Or maybe I would.
Corinth and I were shoved into the corner with Tiff and Dustin beside us, and Lumiere and Brandon closest to the door. The buttons for this elevator were inverted with the first floor button being at the top while the ninth floor button sat a mere foot above the floor. Brandon pressed the highest button and the doors clapped shut.
As we began our ascent, Dustin turned towards me, "You doing okay?"
I nodded too quickly, "You?"
He licked his lips, leaning precariously to one side, and winced as he breathed, "Ask me again in an hour."
"How are we going to get out once we get up there?" Corinth wondered aloud and stared towards the ceiling, leaning me into the wall so she didn't have to hold me entirely on her own, "I don't think they are just going to let us walk out the front door."
"They have probably moved our bikes to the garage by now, we will have to go there first." Brandon pulled Lumiere closer, who had braced himself against the wall with one hand, "Security near the garage is limited because it's at the back of the building. If we can make it there, it won't be hard to get away."
Tiff snaked her arm wider across Dustin's waist to provide him with more support to lean against. She measured the status of his condition, noted the perspiration that had broke out along the surface of his skin from strain, and doubted our chances. She asked what we were all thinking, "What if we run into trouble before we make it to the garage?"
"Am I the only one with a brain?" Brandon inquired heatedly, "By all means, please feel free to speak up if you any of you have an inkling of an idea."
"I have an idea." Lumiere piped.
Brandon's spirits lifted, "Great!"
"It involves dynamite."
Brandon's spirits dropped, "Absolutely not."
Lumiere eyed Corinth over his shoulder and pursed his lips at her. She huffed loudly, "Give me a break, as if you never had a mishap with explosives. We call you Lumiere for goodness sakes because you lit yourself on fire!"
His mouth dropped open, "That was one time!"
"One time is all it takes." She sang back.
Brandon scrubbed a hand down his face, "Lord, just take me now."
Although the situation was terrifying and the bickering was poorly timed, not all of us were irritated. In fact, one of us hung on every word and grinned at the sound. One of us who stood at the back of the group with his head dropped low to hide how the crests of his cheeks dusted a gentle rose and his ears perked, was listening intently to the childish squabbles of his best friend and his cousins, and to his ears it sounded familiar and nostalgic. It sounded comforting.
Because to him ... it sounded like home.
He missed this. He missed us. After all this time and all of his pain, having us here was a gift. We were his family. We were his life. And no matter how this day ends, our presence beside him was enough to honor a king and humble a deadman. He was happy. In the smallest of ways from the simplest of actions, Dustin was happy.
Above us the elevator binged again but the numbers beside the door showed we hadn't yet reached the top. Which meant ...
The doors slid open and a man stepped in, his face buried in a set of papers. He pressed a button several floors below with the tip of his pen then chewed on the cap while reading his report. He said nothing nor did he look up from his papers, and the rest of us froze where we stood, holding our breath and not daring make a sound.
The elevator dropped once again and delivered the man to his floor several levels below without incident. He stepped off without noticing who stood behind him.
Again, the doors closed.
"What the hell was that?" Lumiere questioned, dumbfounded.
Tiff and Brandon both exhaled on command, she answered, "That was Councilman Matthews. He's deaf."
Of all the people who could have entered this elevator ...
Corinth actually dropped me this time, placing both of her hands over her heart, "Holy shit. If that isn't luck, I don't know what is."
"If that's our luck, let's not push it." Brandon insisted and tapped the button for the first floor again.
I looked at Dustin who was already watching at me, and through the fear unraveling in our hearts, we shared a moment unto which the world held no documentation of. He couldn't believe what just happened, I couldn't either, and we stood there, together, with baffled smiles tugging at our lips and astonishment radiating brightly in our eyes. The hand around his stomach loosened, then swung towards me with his palm facing up and my hand slipped into his, our fingers weaving without flaw.
"Too easy?" He prompted.
"Undoubtedly." I answered.
No sooner had we spoken, the doors slid open again, this time to release us on the first floor. Blocking our path was another man who looked as though he were waiting for someone to arrive because when the doors opened, he was bowed respectively. But when he saw that we weren't his expected party, he stood straight and acknowledged Brandon with a nod.
"Oh, hey Brandon. How are things going with ..." His voice trailed off once he realized the rest of us.
Brandon cleared his throat, "Hey Simon."
The man stumbled forward to peer inside the elevator and his eyes bulged when he saw Dustin, "What the hell, what are you doing? Don't tell me you are-"
"I am sorry about this, Simon." Brandon said as he left Lumiere against the elevator door and approached the reeling man in front of us, "But I can't let you alert the others."
The man immediately bolted to the side with intent to run but Brandon caught him around the neck and twirled them both back into the elevator. Once inside and out of sight, Brandon shoved him against the wall and locked a hand around his throat.
The man fumbled to free himself, ripping at Brandon's arm while coughing out, "Have you lost your mind, Brandon? You can't do this!" He kicked and punched and flailed without pattern, fighting for air while glaring at us all, "They will kill you, all of you!"
"They would have killed us anyways." Brandon tightened his grip and the man's face turned purple. Brandon cocked his other arm back, staring forward in pity, "I'm doing you a favor, Simon. We both know they would make you suffer if they find out you let us go."
"They will come for him, you know they will! They have invested too much to let him go, and when they find him," His eyes traveled the length of our group, jumping from one person to the next, "You won't be the only ones who will suffer."
His warning dispatched a wave of shivers down my spine and from where Corinth stood in front of me, I heard her breathe out devastatingly shallow, "Eli."
The man could be rambling in an effort to stall what he knew awaited but the fury in his voice didn't sound like the meanderings of a desperate man. And my fearful thoughts turned towards Toby's safety. The Council already knows about my brother and since they have been monitoring us since leaving the compound, they know that I have tried calling him.
Just before arriving, neither Toby or Eli were answering our calls.
"Don't make this harder on yourself." Brandon demanded, "Have you no dignity?"
"Have you? Taking what belongs to another isn't what I call dignified!" The man shouted, thrashing harder, "Don't throw away your service by stealing their property, he isn't worth it!"
"Dustin doesn't belong to them." Brandon's hand fisted, "They are going to learn that, one way or another."
The man spit at him, "Saving you was a waste."
"As is showing you mercy, looks like we are all fools." Brandon's fist rocketed forward and connected powerfully against the man's jaw. His head snapped sideways and met the wall, his neck now hooked at an awkward angle. Then his body went slack and dropped against the floor with his eyes still open. Brandon barely spared him a moment of silence before collecting Lumiere once again, his only words a fleeting apology, "I am sorry, old friend."
They stepped over his body and continued around the corner. Tiff guided Dustin past, his hand slipping free from mine even though I had been holding it so tightly. Without his hand, my own felt cold, and the sound of that man's neck breaking continued to bounce in my ears.
Brandon didn't hesitate.
He didn't even blink.
Corinth helped me into the hallway where there was more room, "Come on, we can't fall behind."
I pretend to be a Tribe member, I pretend to be strong. But the people who are strong are those willing to kill without delay, the very people I pretend to be strong for. I still am not accustomed to murder, I suspect I never will be, and seeing that man laying there captured all of my attention. I couldn't look away.
"Sadie, forget about him. We have to go."
I know. We have to leave, we can't stay here. Farther down the hall, the rest of our group were nearing another corner, preparing to step out into what looked like a lobby. There was sunlight up there, not much but some. It must be evening. We were so close, so very close to freedom from this wretched place. We need to catch up, we can't be left behind, we can't slow them down. But my feet won't move and my mind won't clear.
Corinth's hands pulled at me, "Honey, we have to go."
There was a sound behind us, a loud bang.
Finally I dragged my eyes away from the corpse, to where a group had entered the hallway. They were laughing amongst themselves, oblivious at first. Then they spotted us, and the feet hanging out of the elevator.
"Sadie," Corinth yanked me harder, "We have to go now!"
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