Rage

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

M y eyes snap to Lita, and I admire the fire that’s returned to her. She's still afraid—she’d be crazy not to be—but dressed in her pajamas, she looks like herself. The strength and vibrance I love about her flickers like a dull flame, waiting to ignite, but it’s there.

I’m glad she’s on board with my psychotic plan, and I don’t have to drag her out of the house kicking and screaming.

Sara's expression turns somber, but she knows better than to try and stop us. If we’re caught, everyone will be questioned; it’s best if she stays out of our way and pretends not to know what we’re doing.

"Godspeed." She nods her head slightly before stepping out of our way.

We hurry down the hall to my room, and I grab the few things that I own: a small knife for cutting roots, a few feet of twine I swiped from some dead vegetable stalks, and my shoes. It isn't much, but it's all I have.

Then, we head downstairs.

Everyone must have gone back to sleep because all the bedroom doors are closed. There aren’t any curious eyes trailing us as we creep down the stairs and tiptoe across the kitchen, which only heightens my anxiety. We’re completely on our own, just the two of us against a handful of Peace Officers.

For the first time, my confidence wanes, but Lita squeezes my hand for reassurance. I meet her gaze, and the fire roaring through my veins burns hot enough to make me sweat.

I’m doing this for her…

Originally, my plan was to burst out the front door and run past the Peace Officer. Maybe if we caught him off guard and ran fast enough, he wouldn't catch up. However, I quickly decided that was a terrible plan and shifted my focus to the only other way out of the gatherer house: the windows.

There’s a small window above the kitchen sink with a view of the youngling house that opens to let in a fresh breeze every now and again, and a slightly wider one in the common room with a clear shot of the distant woods. That one, on the other hand, is nailed shut.

Before I was born, someone tried to escape through the kitchen window, but they were caught and hanged in the square. No one's tried since. Fear keeps them obedient, so why would the Peace Officers do anything more than hammer a few nails into some wood to keep the gatherers trapped inside? They’d never expect anyone to try and pry the window open, knowing what consequences awaited.

I tiptoe across the floor and pause by the common room window, peering through the narrow slit between the curtains. A wide stretch of grass runs from the back of the gatherer house to the tall trees in the distance, bathed in the white glow of moonlight. It’s beautiful, peaceful, with no signs of Peace Officers. Yet, nothing has ever made me more nervous.

"What's the plan?" Lita whispers in my ear. I wish I had an answer for her, but I don't.

Get to the trees . That's my plan.

Run for our lives, because that’s exactly what we’ll be doing. If anyone sees us, if we're followed, I'll stop to give her time to escape.

"Run," I finally tell her, straining my eyes for anything out of the ordinary. "No matter what, you run."

We exchange glances, and I can see the fear flickering in her eyes. I want to reassure her, to tell her everything is going to be okay, but I don't want to lie to her face. Besides, we don't have any more time to waste.

It's now or never.

Chase freedom or stay here, never truly living.

"Torri..." she says, but I'm already crouching in front of the window. I dig my knife out of my burlap sack and set to work, slowly wrenching the metal nails out of the wood. It’s painstaking, and I nearly give up a time or two, but finally the last one pops free and clinks on the hardwood floor.

I carefully shove the window up, grimacing at the groan it makes. Cool air blooms in through the opening, licking against my skin. I'm pouring sweat, and adrenaline beats through my veins like a war drum.

"What if we don't make it?" Lita whispers.

I ignore her, not willing to entertain the thought. I’m staring at the trees in the distance, my heart slamming against my ribs as I try and fail to calculate how far of a run it is. It’ll take us several minutes to get there, but it’s doable.

We'll make it.

She'll make it.

"Torri..."

I finally look at Lita, and she's shaking.

Against my better judgement, which is screaming at me to hurry up and run, I pause and cup her face between my hands again, gently brushing my thumb over her cheek. I’m doing all of this for her, and she deserves my reassurance. She deserves to feel the power flooding my veins, the rage that spurs me on.

She deserves everything , and that’s what I’m trying to give her by making sure she escapes.

"I won't let them hurt you ever again," I say, meaning every word down to my marrow. "You have my word. We're going to make it, but you have to promise me that you won't stop running. Do not slow down and do not look back."

She opens her mouth to argue, but I cut her off. "Do. Not. Look. Back. Do you understand?"

I can tell she wants to argue. Of course she does. But instead, she nods, and I dip to press my lips against hers. She gasps against my mouth before sinking into my kiss, our tongues tangling together eagerly like it’s the very last time we’ll have this chance.

For all I know, it could be.

I pull away gasping and stare into her eyes a final time, losing myself in their depth for a moment, before turning to the window. I crawl out carefully, my feet hitting the ground with a muffled thud, and I freeze. Caution prickles up my back as nerves hit me in full force, and I search the area again.

There’s no movement. No sign of any Peace Officers.

I turn to look back at the window, staring up at Lita through the pane of glass. She could slam the window shut and go back to bed, forgetting about my insane plan. She could call for the guards and have me captured. She could walk away.

A million crazy thoughts spiral through my brain as I wait with bated breath for her to follow. It’s agonizing, even though it only lasts a couple of seconds, wondering what will happen next. Finally, she crawls out the window and lands beside me.

I take a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill my lungs. Only several yards separate us from the woods. From there, we can flee into the mountains in the distance. After that? We’ll figure it out. It's an insane plan but no more insane than staying here to be treated like property. To be owned, enslaved, trapped…

"On three," I whisper, excitement rattling through me as the seconds tick by.

Lita meets my gaze and mouths, "One."

The weight of what we’re about to do lands on my shoulders, sparking doubt. We should have planned longer, worked out the exact details of what we’re going to do when we’re free. Because it’s not just about escaping oppression but figuring out how to live in the wild. We have nowhere to go.

"Two," I whisper.

Who knows what awaits us in the forest, or even if we’ll make it that far. This whole thing seems more and more irrational as the seconds tick by, and I’m beginning to wonder if I just put Lita in more danger than she would face in the breeder faction.

It’s not too late to turn back…

"Three,” I say before I can change my mind.

We take off running toward the trees, our footfalls uncomfortably loud in the silent night. For a moment, I think this is way too easy. No one has seen us or set off any alarms. We've made it out of the house without being spotted, and now we're home free.

Free…

The thought is fleeting, shattered by a booming voice yelling after us.

It’s soon followed by the explosion of a gunshot.