Chapter 5 #2
“Fine. Let's do this,” I sigh, as a voice breaks over the speakers again, telling us to run.
“Wait, you bitches! What the fuck!?” I shout as Kayda and Sarah take off with the rest of the crowd, running like their lives depend on it toward the trees.
“Come on, Bailey! Hurry!” Sarah shouts over her shoulder, and within seconds, they disappear into the night.
A wave of nervousness claws its way up my spine because they literally just left me, and before I can talk myself out of it, I run. I sprint toward the thicket of trees, partly illuminated by the glow of the full moon.
Fall leaves crunch beneath my booted feet as I pick up the pace, the night air slicing cold against my skin as I weave through the tall, forest trees.
I don't dare look back on the off chance I lose my balance, because if I fall, it will only make it easier for whoever, or whatever, is supposed to be coming for us to find me.
Knowing my luck, I'd be the sorry sucker who loses this whole thing before I even get a chance to start.
My pulse pounds loudly in my ears as the sheer adrenaline of being chased courses through me, pushing me further and further into the darkness.
Where the hell is the goddamn flag?
I search ahead for a glow, or any signs that I’m getting closer, but there’s nothing but pitch black. My every breath feels like glass, and my legs scream in protest, begging me to stop as they start to burn.
I curse myself for never working out.
You’d never hear my name and sports in the same sentence, but after this, I’m taking up jogging every morning before classes because I'd be the first to fucking die if this were real, with how out of shape I am.
“Motherfucker!” I blurt out, as I trip on a broken tree branch, falling straight down onto my hands and knees in the hard pine needles and dirt.
Pain pulses through my palms as I slowly push up, gathering myself to stand, but before I can fully rise, gravelly male voices ripple through the quiet, drawing closer to where I am, now frozen.
For fuck’s sake.
This is the part where I lose and become a damn laughing stock.
As quietly as I can, I search the surrounding darkness, hoping whoever is out here doesn't notice me, when the soft beam of a flashlight catches my eye, headed this way. My breath hitches as my brain scrambles to process what it is I’m actually seeing.
A man is forcibly shoved to his knees, before two tall, shadowy figures restrain his arms, as another guy looms over him like he's some kind of starving wolf salivating over a wounded stag.
They’re so fucking close. If I move, there’s no doubt that they’d hear me.
When the light shines on the man's swollen, bloodied face, the world around me stops spinning, and trepidation coils in my stomach.
Harley?
Oh my God.
Blood pours from Harley’s nose, coating his skin and dripping onto his white, button-up shirt.
My heart lurches as the figure in front of him draws back, then strikes him across his face with the flashlight.
I slap a hand over my mouth to keep from crying out in shock as Harley’s pained wails fill the air.
I watch wide-eyed, not sure what to fucking do at this moment without risking them noticing me.
“I saw you do it. I saw everything, but I’m here to make a deal,” Harley grits through clenched teeth, spitting onto the ground right at the tall guy’s feet.
The two men gripping his arms tighten their hold, and I realize that they’re all wearing Halloween masks.
Does that mean that they were at the party?
That thought has chills rolling down my spine.
The thought that one minute, they were casually partying with the rest of us without a care in the world, and the next, they’re out here in the forest, probably about to beat Harley half to death.
What did Harley see that set them off like this?
“You are severely mistaken if you think you're in a position to make deals,” the tall guy finally says, his voice calm, yet menacing, and something sick and twisted inside me reacts, but not in the ways that I should.
It's as if some dark and depraved part of my being is intrigued by him, by them, and I must have hit my head when I tripped earlier, because I am fully aware of how fucked up that is.
The rational part of me knows that I should make a run for it. That I need to find help. But it's that small flicker of darkness that has me rooted to this spot, trapped by some invisible force that has me captivated by their danger.
Harley nervously gulps, then quickly steadies himself, staring up at his captor through bruised eyelids, almost swollen shut.
“Stay away from her! Or I’ll sing like a fucking canary, and everyone will know that I saw the three of you kill that man!” Harley shouts, all signs of his resolve completely forgotten, and I don’t miss the panic rising in his shaky voice.
What the fuck? Did he just say…kill?
A freezing wave of terror crashes over me, rippling through the thickening, cold forest air, and I watch as Harley’s expression shifts to one of dread, as the reality of what’s about to happen to him sinks in.
I swallow the voice in my head that says he’s not leaving this forest alive, because that’s ridiculous, right?
Harley must see something I don’t, because he starts squirming in their hold, as the man before him closes the distance between them in a single stride, locking a gloved hand around Harley’s throat.
The flashlight falls to the ground, and they become nothing more than moving shadows, but I can hear just enough to understand what is happening.
Each sound settles like a cold stone in my chest. The rustling of Harley’s struggle, the muted cries as his mouth is covered by something.
A blade slicing, over, and over and over into his tired body until eventually, everything goes quiet.
My chest tightens with unrelenting fear as I lean my back against the tall forest tree.
Harley is dead.
They killed him.
I don’t know what hits harder, the fact that they did it without so much as hearing him out, or the terrifying possibility that if they see me, I’m next. And what did Harley mean by ‘leave her alone?’ Was he talking about Chloe? Are they going to hurt her, too?
Or did he mean me?
My thoughts spiral out of control, and I hold my hand tighter over my mouth, trying to quiet my frantic breathing.
Not a single word is spoken between them as I listen to the sickening scrape of a body being dragged across the forest floor, and I don’t dare move or look over.
I remain completely still, imprisoned by this moment with Harley because I am the only one who knows that it was his last.