Page 6

Chapter Six

I spend the next two days avoiding knights and zombies as I try to make my way down the forested hill, towards a tiny town at the base. There I hope to persuade a vehicle to start for me so I might be able to get far enough away that Jacobs influence can’t reach me. As plans go it’s fairly sketchy, I mean I have no back up plan and really no idea about cars. But it’s the best plan I can come up with, so I cling to it like a lifeline, letting it pull me through long days and terrifying close calls. I also cling to the thought that there’s at least one human in this forest that doesn’t want me dead, at least for now, I guess. The night where I locked eyes with the stranger swoops through my head on replay any time I stop to rest. It’s very disconcerting. I mean I know I’m starved for any sort of kindness, but this is kind of pathetic. Just because he didn’t immediately kill you does not make him a good person. Still, the shine of his eyes in the moonlight continues to plague my restless dreams.

Its midmorning on my third day of freedom when I come upon the tiny town, not much more than a gas station and a couple of houses, really. I survey the town from the shelter of the trees, looking for any signs of movement, but there’s none, it’s a ghost town. Probably literally. Super creepy . From where I’m standing in the trees, I look down a small bank onto the town itself, this position offers me a great view of the whole place, and I study it carefully. On the opposite side of the old road to what I am on is a little line up of five old cottages, all of them are in various states of ruin, it doesn’t take nature long to reclaim structures when there’s no human interference. The gas station is at the end of the road, opposite a building that looks like it could have once been a bar or club. Cars are parked in driveways and one at the gas station. There’s a couple haphazardly abandoned along the road too.

I pick out a car that looks in better shape than the others, it’s stopped in the middle of the road, close-ish to the trees and across from a little cottage on the far side. I send a desperate plea to the universe for it to still work, as I plan a route with the best cover to get me to the car. Of course, I’ll have to be in the open for a while anyway to try and get it working, but it’s always best to use as much caution as possible. I start moving, slipping from tree to tree and trying to be as quiet as possible as I navigate the sharp decline. Luckily for me the brush on the hill is thick enough to cover me if I double over and keep my head down and it takes me all the way to the bottom of the bank. I crouch there for an eternity as my anxiety tries to tear me apart and I have to spare a few precious minutes to get myself under control. Once I can hear anything other than my rapidly beating heart, I listen intently before the next stretch where I’ll have to sprint about fifty meters to the car, over clear ground. My straining ears hear nothing, so I gather the remaining pieces of my nerve and bolt, not letting my head talk me out of it. I skid to a stop behind the car, panting hard, but I made it. A smile spreads across my face, I’m nearly there. I lift myself into a crouch, ready to climb into the passenger side door, when I hear a door bang open across the road.

“Oh, Lacey! How good of you to finally join us!” a lightly accented male voice booms out. I know that voice and that accent. Freaking Adrian. Guess he didn’t die from his and Ben’s fight after all. Shame . “You know, Lacey, I didn’t much like Ben. He was always an overachiever, forever sucking up. But you know who did like him? Our very own King Jacob.” I can hear others coming out of the cottage behind him as he speaks and a cold sweat breaks out on my brow, I silently unsling my bow and arrows and set them next to me, then check my handgun is loaded with shaking hands. “And you know what else the boss likes, Lacey? He likes to make examples of people who think they can get away with treason. I like that too. I have a very graphic idea of what I’m going to do to that murderous little body of yours and I guarantee you won’t look so pretty when I’ve peeled the skin from your face.”

“Naw, Adrian, you think I’m pretty?” I call back to him sweetly, starting to get a little pissed off under all my fear and adrenalin “I never knew. Ben thought I was pretty too, but I think he looks much better now. Death really suits him. I’m beginning to think it might suit you too.” I’m surprised by the strength of my voice as I let my anger push away my fear. These assholes! I was so close! Why won’t they just leave me alone. “It must be hard, always being second place, even for death threats. I mean that’s the only reason you’re here, isn’t it? Because I killed Ben? Otherwise, I don’t think Jacob would have chosen you. You’re second rate, my friend.” That seems to strike a nerve for old Adrian as he makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snarl. I pop my head up and look out the car’s window at where they have spread out on the little side walk. There’s only five of them that I can see. I think about making a run for it back to the trees just as Adrian looks up into the tree line behind me and screams “Kill her!”

Fuck, there must be people in the trees. I tense up as I prepare for the bullets to shred through my skin, but they never come. I look back at Adrian and he seems just as confused as I am.

“I said FUCKING KILL HER!” He screams again. He doesn’t quite seem to know what to do with himself while he pauses to see if the tree shooters will obey this time

I, on the other hand, am going to take this unexpected opportunity. I shuffle to the bonnet of the car then kneel and take aim at the Knight that’s edging his way slowly closer to me. I shoot him through the chest and manage to hit the guy next to him, too, before they all realize it’s me shooting, not their buddies in the trees. Pandemonium starts shortly after as they scramble for cover, shooting at me the whole time, I keep crouched behind the car, letting it take the shots and occasionally pop up to take a shot or two of my own when they try to move. It quickly becomes a stand-off between me and the three left standing.

“Well, well, well. Aren’t we suddenly the little fighter?” calls Adrian from across the road “I remember a time when you were such a submissive little thing. So willing to please us, you never put up a fight then, did you? I think you liked it, Lacey. You liked it when we would hold you down and -”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP” I screech at him, popping up to take another, admittedly poorly aimed, shot in his general direction, trying to shut him the hell up. I can’t seem to stop the images that his words force into my head. The touches, the looks on their faces as they…

I’m so focused on the flashbacks that have taken hold of me that I nearly don’t see the carcass of the first man I shot lumber around the side of the car. My mind goes blank for a second, bloody hell, he was quick! I think as I desperately try to get my gun up in time. I scramble backwards away from the fresh zombie. I fire but hit him in the shoulder in my panic, he lets out that chilling scream and I hear a gun go off from the forest, shortly before the zombies' head is blown clean off its shoulders.

What the actual fuck?! Did someone just help me?! I stare towards the forest in confusion. Momentarily lost, I stand from my crouched position to get a better look. The assholes across the road must take advantage of my distraction because suddenly pain like I’ve never experienced burns down my left arm. I think I let out a scream that sounds eerily similar to that of the dead man, carrying all my pain and rage. I drop to the ground clutching my bloodied shoulder, Fuuucckk, being shot hurts! My head starts to swim and adrenalin dumps into my system, I slump next to the body of the zombie who’s now laying over my bow and arrows. I try to look at my wound, but I can’t seem to move my neck that way. When I pull my hand from my shoulder, its slick with blood. I stare numbly at my hand as black dots swim in my vision. Shit, I think I’m going to pass out. That would be such a terrible idea right now. I hear the crunch of boots behind the car and scramble to pick my gun back up, I can’t even remember dropping it. My vision starts to drop in and out and my arm is waving around wildly, I’m not going to hit shit like this, but maybe I’ll force them to kill me quickly.

I watch them step around the bonnet of the car and I fire a shot that goes wildly off course. They duck back out of the way anyway. I hear their snickers, and they say something to me but I suddenly can’t make out their words, it’s like they’re talking under water. I stare as they come for me again, struggling to even lift my gun this time. I refuse to close my eyes as they creep toward me and lock stares with a grinning Adrian. His mouth moves but I hear no sound from him, just a strange buzzing noise that’s making my head feel heavy. He’s moving slowly towards me, reaching for me. Then, for some reason, he just slumps into the door of the car. The others look at him as he slides bonelessly down the metal, as perplexed as I am for a second, while his body comes to rest over the corpse of his teammate. The moment of quiet confusion seems to last an eternity in my pain hazed state, then they swing their guns around towards the trees and fire haphazardly, clearly in a panic. I watch as one, then the other are shot down in slow motion, perfect head shots for the both of them. I must be dreaming, I think. Or maybe I already died and this was my afterlife. That’d be pretty shit, I think, because everything still hurts so gods damn much.

I think I pass out for a bit, because, when I open my eyes again a shadow looms over me. I moan a little and try to get away, that just causes me to pass out again from the pain. When I come to again the shadow is talking to someone,

“We need to take her… looks pretty hurt…. Dead coming… Die like that” I can only catch bits and pieces because my mind is floating in a haze of pain, but the voice is deep and rumbling, definitely American and definitely belonging to a man. It seems like he wants to take me with him.

“Alpha won’t like it, she’ll be a liability… okay, okay we’ll take her.” The second voice is rich and smooth as honey with a hint of a Texas drawl. Another man.

The first voice seems to have convinced the second that I should be taken with them and my brain struggles hard to tell me why that’s a bad idea. But, when strong arms slide under my legs and behind my back, it’s all too much and unconsciousness slams into me again, blissfully dragging me under, away from the pain.