Chapter 15
This Changes Nothing
Alex
We’re out of time. The fire is spreading through the house, consuming everything in its path and pouring out noxious smoke that burns my eyes and throat.
“Back in the bedroom!” Rhys orders, shoving us in the direction he wants us to move.
As soon as the five of us stumble into the bedroom, Rhys slams the door closed behind us, cutting off most of the smoke.
Tears stream down my face, and my stomach twists with dread and terror.
We’re trapped in this small bedroom with no way out and a fire raging on the other side of a flimsy wooden door.
Panic flutters at the edge of my consciousness, but I refuse to give into it.
Rhys has already figured out how to get us out of here, producing a length of rope from his pack and setting about finding an anchor point for it.
He barks at us to move the bed and the four of us jump in to do as we're told, sliding the heavy piece of furniture until he has the perfect anchor point.
His movements are quick and precise as he ties a complicated knot around the thick wooden headboard of the bed.
“See, princess? Rhys is very good with ropes,” Theo says with a teasing wink to lighten the mood.
Ollie offers him a smile, but it’s strained. She’s pale and a little shaky, her eyes darting to the door and the smoke billowing from around it. It’s thicker and darker now; the fire is drawing near.
Rhys finishes his tie and tugs hard at it. Neither the knot nor the bed budge. He straightens, strides over to the window, and throws the spool of rope outside.
“Who’s going first?” he asks as he turns around to face us.
“I’ll go,” I say as I move to the window, wanting to get this over with.
Outside, there’s pandemonium, with our group running from various Scourge members hungry to capture them. Simon and Tobias are trying their best to corral people towards the south hedgerow, but people are too terrified to listen.
Rhys helps me open the window further since I’m not a small man. He tugs the rope again, making doubly sure it’ll hold before turning to me. “Ready?”
I nod and start the annoying process of shoving my body through the window.
Once my ass is hanging out, I move my grip to the rope and, with a deep breath, push myself fully out.
The rope burns against the skin of my palms, and my shoulders and arms strain against my weight, but the rope holds.
Climbing down sucks, especially for my hands, which get ripped up, but it’s worth it to have both feet finally touch solid ground.
Unfortunately, the Scourge don’t give me any time to recover before they’re on me.
Two tackle me from the side and slam me into the ground.
I shout in surprise as my shoulder collides with the slick mud and grass, only barely softening the blow.
One guy tries to manoeuvre around to get me into a chokehold while the other tries to hold me down.
Too bad for them, I’m used to wrestling in the mud.
My fist finds the first guy’s face, the crunch of his nose and the spray of blood sending a bolt of savage satisfaction through me.
He yells and rears back, his voice muffled by his hand as he presses it against his broken nose.
The second guy, upon seeing his friend get punched, growls and produces a knife that glints wickedly in the moonlight.
He stabs at me with it, but I deflect it with my arm, giving myself precious seconds to scramble out of the mud and to my feet.
The Scourge also gets to his feet and lunges for me again.
I dodge at the last second and slam my fist into his gut.
He lets out a small oof as he doubles over and clutches his stomach, the knife still in his grip.
The first guy, having recovered from his impromptu nose job, grabs my legs and squeezes just as I’m about to deliver another blow.
Knocked off balance, I fall back into the mud with a wet splat.
Growling, I tense my core and buck my legs, using the massive thighs I gained from playing rugby to dislodge the guy from my legs. He grunts and scrambles to grab me again, but I’m quicker, striking out with my foot. It connects with his chin, and he falls to the ground, unconscious.
The second guy yells out something before slashing at me with his knife.
I hiss as the blade bites into my arm, leaving a trail of fire against my flesh.
Motherfucker cut me. He tries swiping at me again, but I’m too pissed off to let him get a second strike.
A slam of my fist to his throat has him dropping the knife and choking on air, and a savage twist of his head with my hands ends him.
I discard his body next to the other guy and stagger to my feet.
In the time it’s taken for me to eliminate the two guys, Theo, Ollie and Rachel are already on the ground with Rhys being the last to come down.
The fire inside is raging, smoke billowing out from various broken windows as loud cracks boom into the night.
Flames dance, casting an eerie glow across the bloody field that’s become a war-zone.
Rhys is halfway down when the fire reaches the bedroom and eats through the rope.
He shouts a second before the rope gives way, and he plummets straight into the mud.
He grunts, a grimace on his face as he picks himself up, looking just as dirtied up as I do.
I’d laugh, but movement from around the side of the house catches my attention and has my amusement dying.
At least ten more Scourge bastards have arrived, all armed, and they’re coming straight for us.
Olivia
Rhys barely picks himself off the ground before more Scourge attack us.
“Spread out and find cover!” he barks as he raises his rifle and squeezes out several shots that have my ears ringing and my nerves jumping.
Panic lurks on the edge of my thoughts, making my movements sluggish as my brain struggles to take in everything happening.
Thankfully, it only takes one bullet to whistle by my head to get me moving.
Glancing around, I spot an abandoned tractor sitting in the middle of the field and rush towards it.
Mud squelches beneath my boots as I pick up the pace, my breaths puffing out in small plumes of white steam in the icy air.
The surrounding fields are a tangled mess of overgrown brambles and dead nettles that tear into my clothes and bite into my skin.
Around me is utter chaos, with other members of our group fighting their way through the brambles while others are being dragged off by Scourge.
I want to help, but bullets whizz past me, slicing through bushes or slamming into the mud next to my feet, making it impossible to stop.
Behind me, I hear Rhys shout something, and Theo and Alex reply, but their voices are drowned out by the screams and yells of the Scourge.
They don’t sound hurt, so I keep going until I’m able to dive behind the tractor.
Only then do I unclip my bow, grab an arrow and aim.
My first target is a hulking beast of a man dragging a screaming and squirming woman deeper into the field about fifty metres away.
Thanks to his size, I’m able to aim at his bulk and hit him in the shoulder.
He cries out, drops the woman to grab the arrow and tears the barbed tip from his flesh.
With a bellow, he turns, giving me the perfect shot.
Th next arrow slides through his neck and he drops like a sack of shit while gasping and gurgling as he drowns on his own blood.
The woman he was dragging picks herself up out of the mud and glances around in terrified bewilderment.
“Hey!” I call, waving my arm to get her attention.
She spots me and, without hesitation, scrambles over to me before collapsing into a sobbing, trembling mess beside me. “Th-thank you,” she whispers as she grabs my leg.
“You’re safe. Just stay here and I’ll get you back to the others.” I don’t dare touch her in case I trigger her. I know the terror of being dragged away and manhandled by men who want to harm you.
Her hand tightens on my leg.
With her safe, I turn my attention back to the field and spot several more men dragging more struggling people.
Some are a little further away, making the shots difficult, but one after another, the Scourge bastards fall, and the small group hiding with me grows.
Some are more terrified than others, barely making eye contact with anyone as they huddle into balls, while others look ready to puke at the blood and death that dots the landscape.
The group eventually becomes too big to hide behind the tractor, so it’s time to get them to the south hedgerow and to see my brother and Harlow. “Come on,” I tell them, using a firm voice that they happily obey, following me like ducklings.
We reach the southern hedgerow where our group is supposed to be, only to find more than half of them there.
Even with the people I saved, there are still many missing.
The ones who made it are crying and shaking as they cling to one another or hunch down in the grass.
Some cry out and greet the ones I lead here, hugging and sobbing into one another.
I leave them be and stride down the hedge. I spot Bean happily munching on overgrown grass further along, with Ketchup perched on her saddle. With that worry eliminated, my eyes flick around to find my brother, Harlow, or Simon. But I don’t see any of them.
My stomach sinks. Shit. This isn’t good.
I pause when I see the vaguely familiar face of Elise standing beside Bean, holding onto the mare like a lifeline. “Hey, have you seen Tobias or Simon?” Or my dog.
Bean lifts her head and nickers at me in greeting before going back to grazing. Ketchup ignores me, too busy preening her feathers.