Chapter 23 #2
“There’s an old trail somewhere,” she pants. “Saw it on a map.”
Something rustles behind us. We both freeze. Then I hear it, heavy breathing and the swish of pants rubbing together. Whoever it is, is coming closer.
Polly grabs my arm, pulling me behind a thick tree trunk. We hug ourselves against the rough bark, hoping to God that we’ll stay hidden.
A guard dressed in black comes into view. He sweeps his flashlight beam across the forest floor. He’s alone, but I know that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous. His radio buzzes with static as he moves closer to our hiding spot.
The beam of his flashlight passes inches from my face. I hold my breath, tightening my grip on the kitchen knife with my sweaty palm.
He takes a step, then another. His boot lands on a fallen branch right next to where we’re hidden.
“I know you’re here,” he mutters. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Polly squeezes my free hand while I mentally calculate whether we should take our chances and run.
I look down at the kitchen knife in my grip, its silver blade shines in the moonlight. His voice morphs and suddenly it’s King calling my name. Mocking me. Telling me all the vile things he’s going to do to me and my friends.
I’m so done being powerless.
“Stay!” He raises his weapon, but I’m already moving, crouched low.
Months of rage and fear and helplessness explode out of me.
“No!” I scream from somewhere in my chest and drive the kitchen knife forward with every bit of strength I have. It sinks into his thigh with ease, cutting through fabric, muscle, and sinew. He howls, dropping his flashlight as he staggers backward.
“Run!” I yell to Polly, as I stand to my full height and sprint behind her, warm blood coating my hands. I don’t chance looking back, I know he’s not able to chase us. We bolt deeper into the woods, but his shouts echo behind us. Shit, the radio.
“Escapees heading northeast! They fucking stabbed me. Need backup!”
We run and run, for what feels like miles but surely isn’t. Through trees, almost tripping on exposed roots and fallen logs. Then I see flashlight beams, and something inside me breaks, if there’s even anything whole left.
“Stop right there!” A bright light shines in my face, temporarily blinding me. We freeze, and I raise my hands on instinct. I want to cry, to scream, to run.
“Polly?” I whisper. She’ll know what to do… She has to have planned for this.
Two guards step into the clearing, their gear making them look like soldiers. The one with the flashlight keeps it trained on us while the other speaks into his radio.
“We’ve got them. The two females. Heading back to the house now.”
“Let’s go!” The first guard moves toward me, closing his hand around my upper arm painfully.
Polly fights back, pulling away from the second guard. “No, please! You don’t understand—”
“Back to the house!” the guard barks, yanking her forward.
That’s when I hear a sound come from behind them. They’re too focused on us to notice, but something moves in the shadows. I try to stay calm, to figure out a way out of this, but fear has me frozen.
I catch movement in the shadows again, and the guard holding Polly suddenly goes rigid.
His eyes roll back, a wordless grunt escaping his lips, as a jacketed arm squeezes his throat from behind.
It’s so quiet, so efficient, so terrifying.
The guard drops like a fallen tree, probably unconscious before he even hits the ground.
“What the—” The other guard spins around, dropping his flashlight and holding his weapon up.
We’re plunged into darkness again, but I swear I catch glimpses of familiar faces.
I must be seeing things…
It can’t be.
Leon.
Jasper.
Damon.
How? No. It’s the shadows playing tricks. My mind conjuring the ones I’d always hoped would save me.
My eyes dart back to the bellowing guard. His arm is swinging around, searching the darkness for the culprit.
He fires a single gunshot, loud enough to wake the dead.
Polly cries out, falling to her knees. She’s clutching her abdomen… and oh God, I don’t have to see the deep red liquid seeping through her dress to know.
“Polly!” I lunge toward her, but she waves me off before she’s within my reach.
“It’s okay.” She coughs, her voice straining.
“Oh my God,” I cry. “You shot her! Help, please… somebody!”
The guard is breathing hard, sweeping his weapon back and forth across the open air, completely ignoring my pleas for help. “Show yourselves! I know you’re out there!”
Then a voice cuts through the night. Low, controlled, so familiar.
“Drop your weapon.”
The guard spins toward the sound, and that’s when I see him step into the sliver of pale moonlight filtering through the canopy. Short dark hair, smooth tan skin, thick brows framing eyes that promise violence.
He’s existed in fragments for a year and a half. A ghost. A shadow. The hope I clung to in those moments between sleeping and waking.
“Leon?” I whisper his name, afraid if I speak too loud he’ll vanish into thin air.
He’s real. He’s here. This isn’t a hallucination or wishful thinking.
Behind him two more figures step out of the shadows, and I forget how to breathe. My brother. He looks different, older, harder. His eyes are brimming with tears. And Damon, broader than before, more intimidating, with a look in his eyes that could kill.
“Bailey,” Jasper’s voice breaks slightly as he says my name. “Jesus Christ, Bailey.”
I can’t speak. Can’t move. Can’t process that after almost two years of hell, my family found me.
“Drop the gun. Now,” Leon repeats. He’s pulled a weapon and has it pointed at the guard. Damon follows suit, grabbing a gun from somewhere underneath his jacket.
The guard’s outnumbered and he knows it. His hand shakes as he glances at the radio clipped to his vest.
“I wouldn’t,” Damon says.
Polly coughs and I finally snap out of it. “She needs help.”
I’m scared to move, not with the guard’s gun still out. Jasper slowly steps toward me, but I see it in his eyes. He’s waiting too.
The guard’s eyes quickly dart between Leon’s weapon and his radio, barely visible but I catch it. His finger hovers near the trigger.
“Please,” I beg. “Let us go.”
His eyes land on Leon, hand moving slightly.
“Don’t,” Leon warns, his voice deadly calm.
But it’s too late. The guard starts to swing his weapon toward Leon, and everything happens at once.
A gunshot echos through the trees. Jasper runs for me. Polly cries out.
For a split second, I panic. Who fired the gun? Who’s hurt? Please, let it not be Leon.
But then the guard’s body slumps to the ground, his weapon falling beside him.