14. The Walk Up the Mountain
Chapter fourteen
The Walk Up the Mountain
Moni
We walked for fifteen long minutes up the steep, winding mountain path.
My two loaded guns lay in their holsters at my sides.
My breaths came in short, ragged gasps.
So late into the night, the air was crisp and cool.
The moon hung high above, casting a pale glow over the uneven trail, turning the shadows of the surrounding trees into long, dark fingers that seemed to reach for me.
The mountain path wound ahead. Each step was heavier than the last, like chains were dragging behind me.
My shoes scraped against the loose gravel.
Song and Leo flanked me.
Their presence was a constant, oppressive reminder that this was no ordinary walk.
Behind us, a line of men followed, their boots crunching against the gravel, and the rhythmic sound grated on my already frayed nerves.
One of them carried the bag, the godforsaken bag of heads that stank of blood and something sour. Each time it shifted, the faint, nauseating slosh of what was inside made my stomach turn.
The weight of that bag pressed on my mind, even though it wasn’t yet in my hands. I knew what waited inside and could almost feel the grim stench of it creeping up the path toward me.
And my stomach twisted at the thought.
I’m going to have to kill more people tonight.
The realization slithered through my veins—cold and relentless—coiling around my chest. I tried to shake it off, to replace the fear with numbness, but it clung on stubbornly.
The silence between Leo, Song, and me felt like an accusation.
It asked questions I wasn’t prepared to answer, ones that echoed in my own head as I climbed.
Why would I do this?
Was it simply survival?
To protect myself, to protect the lives of my sisters?
Would they understand if they ever found out?
Or would they look at me the way one might look at a stranger, someone unrecognizable, tainted by the darkness I was about to step into?
The path steepened, forcing my breath out in heavy puffs.
The night was so quiet that I could hear my own heartbeat.
How do I get out of this?
I glanced at Leo.
His profile was a mask of calm, almost serene in its detachment.
How many lives had he taken without hesitation, without remorse?
How many had he sacrificed on this same altar of power and survival?
And even more. . .would I become like him after tonight?
I swallowed hard as a lump formed in my throat.
The idea that I could be more than just a woman caught in a storm, that I could be something monstrous, clawed at the edges of my sanity.
But then, another thought slithered in, one that made me feel small and selfish.
What if I didn’t do this?
What if I refused, stood my ground and said no, accepting whatever punishment Leo doled out?
Would it be a bullet to the head?
Or something worse, something that would make me wish I had taken my chances in that tent filled with killers?
Would my death be the last story my sisters heard about me?
Would they remember me as the one who protected them until the end, or would they remember the cowardice that chose morality over life?
A cold wind swept down from the mountain, making me shiver.
The trees around us whispered. Each sound was a question, prodding me, accusing me. Their branches creaked like old bones, and a thin mist coiled around the trees, weaving through the branches like a ghostly dance, beautiful and haunting.
Was it so wrong to do anything to survive, to keep breathing so that those I loved could keep breathing too?
But at what cost?
Would I look into the mirror tomorrow and see a stranger staring back at me, eyes hollowed out and empty?
Would I become the villain of my own story, haunted not just by what I’d done, but by how easily I’d done it?
I glanced up at the stars.
They were cold, indifferent lights scattered across the velvet sky. They had watched civilizations rise and fall, wars rage, and peace settle like ash.
What were a few more lives extinguished to them?
What was the heaviness of my guilt against the endless darkness of that sky?
My steps faltered for a moment, the conflict surging through me like wildfire.
To kill, to take life that didn’t belong to me, was to step over a line that could never be uncrossed. But not to kill, to refuse and face Leo’s wrath, would be to surrender everything I’d fought for—my sisters, Lei, the fragile promise of a future.
I hated the answer that came to me then, hated it because it was the truth, ugly and raw.
I would do anything to survive.
I would kill not just for me but for them.
For Jo’s quiet strength.
Chloe’s fierce spirit.
TT’s innocent laughter.
I would shoulder the burden of the monster Leo wanted me to become, if it meant they would be safe.
But could I still claim to be good after tonight?
Would I deserve Lei’s touch, his love, when he saw the blood on my hands, the darkness in my eyes?
Or would I become another shadow in his world, one he tried to keep at bay but ultimately couldn’t resist?
Leo’s sharp voice broke the silence, snapping me back to the present. “We’re almost there.”
When we reached the top, my heart stuttered at the sight before me.
A colossal structure stood there, looming and ominous. It looked like an oversized tent but built with a network of metal reinforcements and weathered tarpaulin. It was definitely big enough to house eighty people.
The deep thrum of voices drifted out from within. It was a low, menacing hum that prickled the hairs on the back of my neck.
I tried to steady my breathing, focusing on the bite of the cold air as it filled my lungs.
Leo’s hand brushed against mine, a gesture that was almost tender if it weren’t for the coldness in his eyes. “Remember, Monique.”
I tensed.
“It’s not just survival. It’s power.” He pointed at me. “Show them who you are.”
My heart hammered in my chest.
I knew there was no turning back now.
No matter how much the idea of taking another person's life horrified me, I couldn’t escape the reality that lay before me.
We got to this blue one-level structure that seemed more like a warehouse than lodging.
Barely twenty feet ran between us and the building.
Leo stopped us. “This is as far as we go.”
Next, this harsh sound of laughter echoed from inside.
The man with the bag walked up and handed it to me.
Oh God.
Freaked out, I took the bag.
With it so close, the stench was horrific.
I almost vomited.
“This is where it counts, Monique.” Leo’s voice went low and deadly calm. “Remember where to aim and who to strike first. The leaders, the ones who rush to speak, the ones who instantly rise or try to attack you. Kill them before they kill you.”
I swallowed hard. “And if they don’t step up or be quick to say something?”
“Then you make them.” He placed his hand on my shoulder.
Song cleared his throat.
Leo frowned and moved his hand away. “Monique, stay courageous. You’re more capable than you know.”
Song stepped closer. “We’ll be here. Outside. But this is your fight.”
A cold shiver sliced through me.
I wanted to scream at them; to tell them this was madness, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. They’d already made up their minds, and deep down, a part of me had, too.
I was already standing at the edge of this cliff.
All that remained was my stepping over to fall.
Leo pointed at me again. “Show them who you are.”
My hands trembled as I gripped the bag tighter.
“I. . .will. . .” I forced myself to breathe.
“Good.” An odd smile spread across Leo’s face. “Now go.”
I froze.
They all watched me.
Song gave me a sad smile. “Monique.”
My bottom lip quivered. “T-there’s got to be another way.”
“There is.” Leo gestured to a blade that just fucking appeared in his hand. “But let’s not go that way.”
I stared at the glinting threat in his hand and then lifted the bag. “Alright. . .”
And just like that. . .I walked, terrified out of my mind.
You’re going to kill people. That’s that.
Blood drained from my face as my body went numb.
Point and pull the trigger. That’s it. And just. . .we will never think about this again.
My palms went slick with sweat as I clutched the bag tighter.
You can do this. You have to.
For Jo, Chloe, TT. For every Black woman who had to square their shoulders to silence the fear in their mind, and stare down what everyone else would run from.
Come on.
I pushed forward.
This isn’t the first time you’ve done the impossible. Remember?
The memories surged up, quick flashes of nights spent shielding my sisters from the storm, when the power would go out, and all we had was each other’s warmth.
Those were the nights I learned how to turn fear into courage, how to take the tremor in my voice and make it steel.
Tonight will be no different.
I felt a pulse of warmth at the base of my spine—a surge of adrenaline, like fire in my veins.
Steadying me.
Preparing me.
I forced the fear into a corner, locking it away.
It wasn’t welcome here.
We don’t get to flinch. We don’t get to pause. We shoot. We kill. We get the fuck out of this situation.
The canvas entrance to the massive tent loomed ahead.
The flaps rippled in the night wind.
I swallowed hard, fighting the bile rising in my throat.
I let out a shaky breath and focused on pumping myself up in my head.
Black women have carried the weight of the world for centuries, holding it up on their backs while daring it to break them. You’re not just Monique tonight. You’re every fighter. Every survivor who chose life, even when it was hard.
Then, Leo’s last words rang in my head like a battle cry. “Show them who you are.”
I stopped in front of the flap and reached for that fire, that relentless part of me that refused to break. The part that learned resilience the hard way.
I knew what I would look like to them—a weak ass Black woman, powerless, unworthy, face tight with fear, a lamb to be easily led to the slaughter.
Every man inside that tent would be measuring my worth, calculating their chances of outmatching me before I could act. They’d see me as nothing more than an intruder to be conquered, but I’d make them realize their mistake before they had the chance to move.
They would soon learn otherwise.
Fuck them. It’s me or them. And it damn sure won’t be me.
My fingers pushed the flap aside and I stepped into the space where death and destiny were tangled together.
This is it. No turning back.