Chapter 9
Villain
I step deeper into the trees, unzip, and relieve myself.
My body aches with fatigue. Even my fucking bones feel heavy.
But I’m glad I stayed awake. That I didn’t let my guard down.
Nothing wild got close to us, at least not close enough to do damage.
The constant rustling did scare the shit out of me, though.
I had to keep making noise, snapping twigs, clearing my throat, kicking at the dirt.
I guess whatever was out there didn’t like all that carrying on, because it kept its distance. Thankfully.
Back at the clearing, I estimate it's around ten a.m. judging by the brightness of the sky. The fire’s nothing but a nest of grey, and my two companions are still resting.
Ariana stirs weakly, rubbing at her arms, but Ms. K hasn’t moved.
I grab the small bottle of hand sanitizer I found in one of the pilot’s suitcases and scrub a dime-sized amount over my palms until they sting. Now, I’m ready to play chef.
I grab two packages out of the food pile and rip open the foil.
“Alright, ladies,” I say, forcing lightness into my voice.
That shit feels foreign to me, especially right now, but I want their spirits up.
“Time for breakfast. Your chef has prepared two choices for you: artisanal nut mix or kale chips. Take your pick.”
Ariana gives me a tired smile. “I’ll take the nuts.”
I hand her the pack, and that’s when I notice her arms. Angry red scratches run up and down her brown skin, some welted, some bleeding lightly.
“The hell happened to you?”
She shrugs like it’s nothing. “Insects. They tore me up last night.”
At that, my eyes drift toward the sky. It’s clear and brilliant blue again today, no clouds, no smoke—and no sign of rescue. But I bite back my disappointment.
“It’s all good,” I say. “We ain’t spendin’ another night out here.”
She doesn’t look hopeful. She doesn’t even answer me. She just stares at the dirt like that’s where her comfort lies.
I shift my gaze to Ms. K. She’s curled on her side, still as a statue. I watch for a good little while, not entirely sure what I’m looking for. I can’t put my finger on it, but something about her position makes my skin prickle.
“Aye, wake her up for me,” I say to Ariana.
She reaches over and shakes her shoulder, gentle at first. “Kiara? Wake up. You need to eat something.”
No response.
Ariana frowns, moving closer now, shaking harder, her voice rising. “Kiara? Wake up.”
Still nothing.
She whips her head toward me, her face pale as hell, which makes my heart pound hard in my chest. I drop everything and rush over, my knees hitting the dirt hard. I don’t even notice the pain.
I reach out and touch her face…
She’s cold.
My hand slides to her arm, pressing against the stiffness of her body. She’s not just cold.
She’s gone.
Everything goes silent. Everything but the rush of blood in my ears. My throat closes on me, and for a long, scary second, I can’t breathe.
Ariana stares at me, eyes full of fear.
And then the sound tears out of me. A raw, primal scream that rips through my chest, up through the trees, and into the empty sky where nobody is coming.