Page 114
Story: Ghosts of the Dead
A growl behind me has me turning to see one of the brothers, the sandy-haired one, standing there. Blood drips from his face from where I cut him before. Clearly, not deepenough. He’s limping, but his grin is sharp with teeth bared, like he still thinks he can win this. That’s cute.
Not today, motherfucker.
I flip my knife in my hand and move my feet apart to brace my stance. The black fabric of my long-sleeve shirt clings to my skin with sweat and blood, but I ignore it. “Round two?”
He lunges. I catch his blade mid-swing. The steel glances off mine with a clang that vibrates up my arm. He swings wild with rage in his movements, but I’m ready. I drive my boot into his knee and knock him off balance before slamming him back against the wall. He howls in pain, but I suspect it’s because the wall is fucking hot.
His elbow jabs into my ribs, knocking the breath out of me. I grin anyway. Pain means I’m still alive, and as long as I’m alive, I can fight.
We lock up again, knife against knife. His blade scrapes down my arm, slicing through fabric and skin, but I don’t stop. I slam my forearm into his throat and pin him to the wall. That’s when I see it. The frayed canvas on his jacket. The faded black symbols smeared with soot and blood.
The same damn fabric from the bunker. From the beginning.
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter before shoving him harder against the wall. “We were right, even way back then.”
The asshole snarls and drives his knee up, catching me in the gut. I stumble back a step, but I come right back and slam my fist into his jaw. The impact jars up my arm, but the satisfying crunch of bone makes it worth it.
The fire’s creeping closer now. The heat licks at the edges of the large living room. Sparks fall like rain from the ceiling. The bastard swings again, desperate this time, but I twist low and drive my knife up under his ribs.
He gasps and chokes. I twist harder and lean in close. “Say hi to the rotters for me.”
He slumps and slides down the wall, dead before he even hits the floor. I turn back to the raging fire. The survivors scramble through the front doors to escape. Autumn is crossing over the threshold and into the light, with Jace by her side and Caspian close behind, and Luna in front of them and ready to greet them with her tail wagging.
Glass shatters nearby as the heat blows out a window. A few bottles roll around the floor. Leftovers from God know what these brothers were drinking when they weren’t busy trafficking humans. I grin. Perfect.
I take off my boot and remove my final sock before securing the boot back onto my foot. I shove the sock into the bottle to create one last improved bomb. A little something I recently learned. The flame from my lighter catches the dirty fabric, and I run through the door. Once outside, seeing that all three people I care about most in this world are safe, I spin around and throw the bottle at the house.
Flames explode, adding to what’s already there, and the final walls of the building crumble in a satisfying cascade of fire and destruction. The heat hits my face like a physical blow, but I don’t flinch. Some things deserve to burn.
My boots crunch on ash when I stride out into the street to join my people. Luna circles us, alternating between pressing against Autumn’s leg and sniffing the air. Caspian leans against the hood of a nearby car, catching his breath. His gray t-shirt is torn and singed at the edges. Jace stands nearby watching the flames with his face tight and unreadable, the white of his t-shirt now gray with ash and soot. There are a few red streaks, too, but that can be said for all of us. Autumn leans against the same car as Caspian, her chest rising and falling with each rough breath. She raises a brow at me.
I roll my shoulders back and wipe the blood from my face with the back of my hand, then smirk, catchingAutumn’s eye. “Well. Guess my feet are even now. No more deciding which foot gets a sock for the day.”
Her smile is slow and shaky, but it’s beautiful. Even with her face smudged with ash, hair wild, and clothes torn, she’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to get her alone.
Autumn frowns and looks around. “Where’s Lucy?”
I look back at the house engulfed in flames. “Shit, she wasn’t with you?”
Autumn’s face falls. I don’t like her looking sad. “She was, but then I got distracted. You know, with survival and all. I thought she got out.”
Caspian laces his fingers with hers. “I’m sure she’s alright somewhere. If she’s not, then she still died doing what’s right. Innocent people survived because of her help.”
Autumn breathes out a sigh. “I know. I wish I could have gotten to help her more. She was pretty badass when she was fighting her brother.”
“The brothers are all dead now, aren’t they?” Jace asks, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Yeah,” I say. “I made sure one was officially dead before making our girl’s favorite cocktail.” I grin at Autumn, and she grins back with a small shake of her head. “As far as I’m aware, the other two never made it out, and it doesn’t look like anyone’s going to be walking out of that house ever again.”
Behind us, the building that housed so much suffering collapses in on itself in a final, thunderous crash. Good riddance.
I look at the three of them, Autumn, Jace, and Caspian, standing in the glow of the fire, and something tightens in my chest that has nothing to do with smoke inhalation or knife wounds.
They’re mine, and I’ve got a pretty perfect family right here who I’ll do anything for, and nobody’s taking that away from us again.
44
AUTUMN
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