Chapter 41 #2
“It’s not so bad,” Jon narrates. “There’s probably food here. I’m sure we could catch a rabbit or something.”
“Oh yeah?” Asshole August laughs. “You’re an experienced hunter?”
“Mmhmm. I always get what I’m after.” He throws a lascivious smile at Asshole August, who responds with one of his own.
It’s sickening.
But also… kind of not?
On the one hand, I think Jon would sleep with literally any August, even me, and that makes me think he’s not over my August at all.
On the other, my August, who’s never once left my side in all of this, looks amused. Happy. He’s not jealous, which reassures me deeply. And to be fair, Jon’s been nothing but nice to me since he and August saved my life. From that other August’s hands, of course, but we can’t all be perfect.
I kind of wish it were them who had the responsibility of world-smashing sex because… honestly, I worry August is going to tire of me. It can’t be the best way to establish a new relationship. This should be fun, spontaneous.
But then his hand slips into mine, and that familiar tingle trails up my arm, down my spine.
Just touching him is magic. Anything else…
Yeah, okay. Maybe we should find a secluded spot soon…
We walk on and on, searching for one, and the stress of the morning falls away as the sun rises higher.
It’s beautiful, old England. Something lost forever, replaced, perhaps, by different beautiful things, gorgeous Victorian buildings, Art Deco stations, different touches of different ages.
But it’s special to be here and to experience this.
We cross several wooden fences. I have no idea where we are or whose land we’re on. There’s no suggestion among the group that we should head towards the city. In fact, I think we all have a natural inclination to avoid it and whatever worse trouble we could get into there.
By midday, I’m guessing from the position of the sun, we’re all weary, and I’m just about to suggest that nap when, “Found you!” a voice shouts out of nowhere.
A shot rings out, blasting a chunk of bark off a nearby tree.
Sharp pain cuts through me when my knee drops onto a rock, the whole group finding fallen logs and ancient tree trunks to hide behind, taking cover, trying to locate the shooter.
Still and tense, not one of us moves a muscle.
The cracking of sticks reaches us from off in the distance, but none of us are stupid enough to raise a head up to find the exact location.
Then we hear it. Barking. Dogs.
“Run!” August hisses.
All of us, no idea where we’re going, bolt.
Anywhere, just away from that sound. Away from the next shot, ringing out through the woods.
Away from snapping jaws and vicious barks, our breaths coming fast and hoarse in our throats as we scramble over branches, slicing our hands and legs on jagged wood.
Beauty turns to terror, bluebells crushed underfoot, faster, faster. A memory of the last time I was caught in a life or death chase comes back on me. That bastard August and his ability to freeze people that I’d totally forgotten about. “August! Freeze them!”
“What?” my August shouts.
“Other August!”
“What?” he also shouts, breathlessly.
“Your freeze thing!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“There!” my August yells. “A river! Cross it!”
We turn reflexively, scrambling down a deep bank.
Mud and pebbles squelch beneath my shoes, slipping on moss, icy water like knives through my clothes.
Then the bottom drops out. A river that’s barely a river at all, more like a chasm, water fast and unrelenting, pushing me under, like a twig caught in a tidal wave.
Rocks bite into me, the current too fast to give me purchase. Bodies slam against each other, white water gushing, rolling, throwing me up. “August!”
I fling out a hand for him, pain screaming up my arm when he takes hold, just about pulling it out of its socket. I gasp deep breaths, head finally above the water long enough to breathe or think.
August’s got me. One hand in mine, the other clinging to thick roots dug deep in the muddy underside of the bank. His strong arm flexes against the current. A body slams into me. Amber. We all shift, but only an inch. August’s got us.
“Climb!” I yell at her, trying to help her keep her head above water.
Two legs squeezing around me, her hand clinging on, she has only one thought. “Shashi!”
Another body slams into us, and we’re down, all of us beneath the water. August’s grip on me doesn’t falter, even as we turn like tumbleweed in the current. Impossible bursts of sun, the deafening roar of water, desperate gasps of air, every one of which might be the last.
Another sharp wrench of my arm. Another thick root, August’s hand weak and slipping.
I take Amber’s arm, pull her up and shove her towards the bank.
She grips on, pulling Shashi with her. I find another root, taking August’s hand with me, helping him feel out what looks like a strong one, until we’re all clinging on, legs torn downstream.
“Here!” A voice from above. A hand. Jon’s hand, with his billions of bracelets. He pulls Amber up first, as another hand reaches down for Shashi. Asshole August.
A moment later, August and I are lying in the mud of the bank, sopping wet.
He rolls onto his back, reaching out a hand for me that falls icy on my cheek.
It’s the best feeling I’ve ever experienced, knowing he’s safe next to me.
That we’re not dead. I take his hand to my hard-beating heart, while he gasps out between deep breaths, “Please tell me… we made it… to the other side… away from the dogs.”
Jon stands tall, hands on his hips to assess the landscape.
He isn’t wet at all! Barely a drop on him. And his hair’s still bloody perfect too. “The important thing is we’re all together.”
August sits bolt upright. “No, the important thing is we can’t be tracked by killer dogs. Didn’t you even get in?”
“It looked cold!”
“It is fucking cold!” August yells back. “And we’re still in danger!”
“Fuck!” Shashi’s already up, mascara streaming down her face, dragging Amber along with her.
We run, waterlogged, freezing, down the riverside, searching and failing to find a way across, until finally, we hit a tall fence. One by one, we scramble over, dropping down into the sunshine of… a rather pleasant meadow?
“Horses!” Asshole August whispers. “Look at them!”
Indeed, there are horses. Grazing in the sun, placid, like there aren’t bloodthirsty hounds just on the other side of this fence.
“They’re lovely,” Shashi deadpans. “Now, if we could get back to not dying…”
He lets out a slightly frustrated huff. “No, I meant, if there are horses, there are probably stables. Isn’t that the sort of thing we’ve been looking for?”
“Oh,” I mutter. Yeah, that’s smart. Shelter. Warmth. Good plan.
But, “Oh,” August responds, and his tone draws my gaze. His eyes are lit as if there were a fire glowing within, that irresistible smile about his lips.
“Oh…” I manage.
That’s right. There was a reason we wanted a bit of privacy.
August climbs to his feet, then holds out a hand for me. “Ready to make a portal?”
Damn sexy August.
He’s bloody enjoying this.