Page 5 of Shrapnel

Numbness crept up his limbs like the cold. It chased away everything else and his vision narrowed. Like a cat done playing with its food, he flashed a murderous smile at Trey. The change in his demeanor must have been obvious because Trey began scrabbling with blunt fingers at the back wall.

This was the part of killing that Jamie liked. The crystal clear moments where his brain only followed one track. Everything else bled away. The ever-present nothing in his heart was punctured by the adrenaline-fueled act of murder. For the briefest of moments, while the blood was still warm on his hands and the air reeked of gunpowder, he couldfeel.

Killing reminded Jamie that he was still alive. Not by obligation. Not because he was born. Because he had a purpose.

His smile deepened. “These hoes ain’t loyal.”

With far more strength than Jamie thought possible, Trey managed to kick out one of the tarp patches in the wall. Falling out of the hole, he landed in a heap of snow. Kicking up flurries, he scrambled to his feet and took off across the field.

Jamie stared after him, eyebrows drawn in confusion. “Dude,” he called out, “You’re wearing aneon orangehat!”

Trey began bobbing and weaving as if he could somehow throw Jamie off. As if he wasn’t the only thing moving across a snowy tundra of nothingness that went on as far as the eye could see. With a sigh, Jamie removed the rifle from his back.

Slowly, he assembled the high-caliber weapon. His frozen fingers were a bit clumsy, but they remembered the moves.

Adjusting the sight, he lifted it to his eye. The rubber from the scope was stiff with the cold.

“Duck and weave, Trey,” He called out, his voice echoing across the empty landscape. “Serpentine!”

Adjusting to the weight of the rifle, Jamie exhaled. The gunshot cracked and Trey yelped as he went down.

Setting the gun down against the wall, Jamie hopped out of the hole Trey created. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he languidly walked the hundred or so meters Trey had managed to run.

The snow was bright red. Tears were frozen on his eyelashes as his fingers clung to the hole in his thigh. In a fit of desperation, Trey tossed a handful of snow at Jamie. Desperate pleas for mercy dribbled from his tear-stained lips.

“You zigged when you should have zagged, my guy,” Jamie tutted.

Trey wailed when he saw Jamie reach for him.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure if his eyes were open. The black was so intense that he was sure he couldn’t see. He had gone blind. But then he began picking out shapes. Trees stood tall above him, their branches snaking across the patches of dark sky between them. Stars twinkled between the thick branches, their warmth and light farther away than they ever had seemed before.

Trey couldn’t feel anything. He wasn’t even cold. There was a ringing in his ears that was beginning to fade but the nothingness that replaced it was worse. A silence that was so permanent that he tried to speak, to breathe, anything to break it up.

When he tried to open his mouth, he realized there was something over it. He couldn’t part his lips. Panicked, he worked his jaw until it popped. Nothing gave. Belatedly his brain caught up and he remembered the events leading up to this.

Turning his head, he could see snow and trees. He was in the forest just behind his cabin. The snow crunched around his head as he lolled it back and forth to try and look around. His leg wasn’t hurting. Did he receive medical attention?

Blinking against the frost collecting on his eyelashes, he tried to move his legs. Acute pain jolted up his limbs. He tried to scream through the gag in his mouth but all he could do was cry. His fresh tears melted the snow around his eyes and dried on his cheeks.

Now that he moved, he could feel pain. A lot of pain. And not just in his thigh where he had been shot. All his limbs were red hot with pain.

With more effort than he thought possible, he looked down at his body. The sight made him scream all over again.

His ankles were trapped in bear traps. The metal jaws had sunk through his Achilles' Tendons, splintering the thin bones around the joint. Blood colored the snow around the metal traps, already frozen. His wails grew in intensity as he felt a similar pain in his arms. He didn’t want to look, but his head was already turning. His wrists were in identical traps.

Trey was spread eagle in the snow, limbs held in place by heavy metal traps.

A snap in the trees drew his attention. Above him in a gnarled-looking tree, the assassin the Weavers sent was crouched on a thick limb.

Perched like a bird, his face was obscured by shadow. The only thing visible was the whites of his eyes. They sparkled down at him, the only light in the darkness. He was perfectly still. The only hint he was still alive was the breath ghosting into the darkness. Swirling around his face, it puffed out evenly.

Teeth flashed as he finally moved. The assassin held one finger to his lips, shushing Trey as his manic smile spread into one of unfettered glee.

From his right, he heard a soft snuffling through the snow. He tried to look but he couldn’t move. Twisting against the chains, he felt something watching him. It was just out of sight, circling the clearing and sticking to trees. Watching. There were two predators in the night, and Trey wasn’t sure which one he was more afraid of.

Another twig snapped, this time off to his left. Trey’s bladder released, a warm wet spreading over his thighs as he openly wept against the gag. It was hard to breathe and cry.

A wolf appeared at the edge of his vision. The white of its underbelly exposed against the shifting shadows for a moment before it disappeared back into the wilds. Snow crunched and suddenly he could smell the wolf’s damp fur. Its fetid breath washed over him, and he wailed.