Chapter 4 Sweet Escape.
Chapter four
Sweet Escape.
Percy Flores
The sound of dying battle, the smell of smoke, the gloom of the evening — it was unlike anything I had ever experienced and so disorientating, to go from the eerie quiet of the maze to being released into a new type of chaos.
Fredrick bundled me close to him. I was grateful for his kindness. He didn’t struggle with my weight, though I thought he was likely mostly human, as there was no glow to his brown eyes.
“Listen to me, this isn’t going to be easy. We’ve got ground to cover, and I can’t promise that it won’t get bumpy,” Fredrick told me, eyes locking with mine in seriousness. “Keep your head down and don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”
His instructions were given in a no-nonsense manner.
He reminded me of my father and of Remy, of all the men from home like him who felt like it was their responsibility to take care of the people around them.
If I didn’t believe that he was coming from a place of genuine care, I would have been offended at being spoken to like a child.
Instead, I gripped tighter to him, trusting that he had me.
“I’m not going to get in the way,” I told him as we exited the maze. I looked around and saw that the maze had opened for us at the opposite side of its entrance. I was even further away from Ardens’ mansion, further from Selene.
“Just checking,” he laughed, a slight apology in his tone.
“Shh,” Dylan commanded, pulling his rifle into his grasp from across his back.
I looked at Dylan as he stepped ahead of us. As his boots made contact with the mowed lawns, the earth directly in front of his toes erupted. Quick sputters of gunfire blew mini craters into the earth.
“Dylan!” I screamed in fear for him.
He jumped back, swinging his arm out to push Fredrick and me back also.
“Where’s it coming from?” Dylan asked as we crouched down using the open maze wall for cover.
I could feel the maze rumble, the ground beneath our feet unsettled.
“High ground,” Fredrick answered. “The angle of the shot, from what I remember of the land before being swept into this nightmare maze, I reckon from the lip of the orchard hill.”
The ground rumbled beneath our feet again, like the maze was losing patience with us. It felt like it wanted us gone, and I worried for a moment that it would change its mind, if it had a sort of mind, and sweep us back into its belly.
“We’ve got to make a run for it,” Dylan decided.
“And hope they can’t hit a moving target?” I asked incredulously.
“Percy’s right, they have the advantage, got us in their sights,” Fredrick agreed.
“We can’t stay here either,” Dylan protested.
“This witch here controlled the maze once; she can do it again,” Fredrick argued.
I wasn’t sure I entirely agreed. I was becoming so tired, a bone-deep tiredness, even holding my own head up was something that required effort.
“I’m not so certain that’s true,” Dylan said, looking at me, “I’m sorry, Percy, no offence. It’s just, you’re not in the best shape right now. Anyway, we can’t stay here; it’s only a matter of time before they come to us if we don’t make a move.”
“You want to make a run for it?” Fredrick asked.
“Yes.”
Fredrick shook his head.
“We’ve got to get up and around that hill, boy. A distance in itself that will take one, no, closer to two hours, given that we’re not all capable of walking and climbing. We have no way of contacting backup and no intel.”
“Idonea will help us,” Dylan argued.
I didn’t know who he was speaking of.
“You put a lot of trust in that witch,” Fredrick replied.
“I trust all my witches,” Dylan replied with a grin and a wink towards me.
Gross.
It was the first time I’d ever thought of Dylan as so unappealing. Had he always been so obnoxious, or had the night of the Summer Ball affected his personality?
But at least I knew that Idonea was another witch.
Another witch on our side.
A witch to help get us finally out of this maze.
But I wouldn’t be going up and around the mountains of Ardens, or anywhere other than back to the mansion to find Selene.
It didn’t matter how weary my limbs were, or how my right leg ached and burned all at once, or the way the back of my head throbbed; nothing could stop me from returning to her.
“I’m not leaving Ardens Estate,” I told them.
“You’ve not got much choice in the matter,” Fredrick answered. “You can’t get nowhere on your own, and I ain’t walking into the fire with you.”
“You can put me down. I appreciate your assistance so far, thank you, and I understand that I can’t ask you to risk yourself any more than you already have for me. I wouldn’t. I am capable on my own,” I told him.
He stared at me, his thick eyebrows creasing.
“Put me down, Fredrick,” I commanded.
He looked away from me.
“Ordinarily, I would follow such a request, don’t think otherwise, but this isn’t any ordinary situation. This is war. And you’re a young woman, on your own in the middle of the gunfire, got a badly broken leg, a head injury too, which I’m sure isn’t helping your thinking right now.”
“I’m thinking just fine,” I told him. “Put me down.”
“You’ve not been able to think for yourself since that monster trapped you in her enchantments,” Dylan snarled.
“I’m not under any enchantments! What’s wrong with you?” I yelled back.
Dylan laughed dismissively.
“You’ll see soon enough, Percy. But don’t worry, I won’t need an apology,” he said.
“Apology?” I asked.
“For how you’ve treated me when all I’ve done is try to protect and free you,” he said, waving his arm out as if to indicate what he was freeing me from.
I wanted to scream in frustration.
“You’re a waddling duck, Dylan,” I yelled in frustration.
Did he really think himself my hero? Was he truly so deluded?
Fredrick laughed so loudly and unexpectedly that I got such a fright I almost pushed myself out of his arms.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said, as a tear ran down his cheek, revealing a clear path. I hadn’t noticed that he was covered in a dusting of dirt.
“Waddling duck,” he sputtered, trying not to laugh, “Hear that, Captain Duck,” he said to Dylan.
Dylan smiled in an irritated kind of way, like he was aware he had just received a new nickname.
“Ha, ha, so funny,” he complained, “Have you forgotten that we need to get out of here?” he asked.
No sooner had he turned his gaze away from us and to surveying what he could see ahead and beyond the safety of the wall than a shot scraped the stone edge of the wall, ricocheting small shards of broken stone, one nicking Dylan’s cheek.
“Fuck!” He screeched and wiped the blood that swelled on the surface of his skin away with the back of his hand. “That’s it, we’re not waiting a moment longer,” he said and gripped Fredrick by the shoulder, pulling us forward away from the safety of the wall.
“Run!” Dylan roared.
“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Fredrick asked, cursing under his breath as he ran across the lawn.
There was so much noise, shots firing and the lawn around us littered with upturned soil.
Both Fredrick and Dylan weaved as they ran, taking sharp turns but always heading up and seemingly towards the source of the attack.
I was being carried further away from the mansion, further from Selene.
“Fredrick, you can’t take me back to wherever it is you’re trying to get to,” I begged, even as I gripped his shoulders.
“I’m a soldier kid; I follow my orders. Orders are to get you back to base,” he told me, through heavy breaths.
“At House Halvorsen?” I asked, but he didn’t reply, just kept running uphill with me. I wouldn’t be safe in Halvorsen, not after what Selene did to Oskar.
“Please, just let me go,” I pleaded, “The orchard, leave me with the servants.”
I remembered seeing the Ardens' servants all gathered at the small orchard. I twisted, trying to see behind me to where I knew the small orchard had to be.
“Can’t do it,” he huffed out in response, his breath becoming heavier.
“What’s the plan here, Duck?” he shouted to Dylan.
“We run through them,” Dylan roared back, firing shots in front of us.
“He’s going to get himself killed,” Fredrick said.
“He’s going to get us all killed,” I replied, pressing my face against Fredrick's shoulder as the air seemed to snap abruptly and loudly above me, a bullet passing just overhead.
We were making quick work of ascending the grassy hill. The shots were getting louder, closer.
I was dizzy in the dark, the moonlight, the jostling of being carried by Fredrick, the glow of the burning mansion behind us, half of it lit up in orange and amber, the spark as Dylan fired, the speed that Fredrick sprinted keeping up with and behind Dylan — it was disorientating.
I felt nauseous.
But that probably had more to do with my injuries.
Was I in shock?
Running on adrenaline?
The ground beside us erupted, dark earth hitting my face.
I screamed.
I remembered what it felt like to be shot just a few months prior.
How I didn’t even feel it at first, and I panicked that I had been struck, that the nausea, the pounding in my head, the ache that only steadily grew from my leg, now burning a trail up past my knee, were all symptoms of my impending death.
I panicked that this was where everything ended.
The world burning around me.
This was where I would fall.
And then I did.
The impact was quick and abrupt. My right shoulder took most of it, and my head and face bounced off the frozen earth.
Every sense was lost to me. For one brief moment, there was nothing, nothing but the sickening sense of falling.
No sound of gunfire and blazing buildings, no orange glow or stars above. Only a never-ending abyss to fall within.
And then I was ripped from that darkness. My chest burst with air, my sternum and eardrums bruised with pounding.
“Percy!” The roar of Dylan above me was like being swallowed up by a wave.
My eyes focused on him, something splattered across his face, dark and streaked, like it had been painted on.
“Wake up! Please wake up!” he said, his hands and fingers interlocked, holding the weight of him against my chest.
“Get off me,” I spluttered out.
Chest compressions? Did he think I was dead?
“Percy,” he said too loudly. “You’re okay? I thought, I thought,” he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, come on, we need to get out of here,” he instructed and began to push his arms under me.
I didn’t stop him; I didn’t even try. I was too weak to fight against him.
As he lifted me, I remembered Fredrick and twisted my neck painfully to find him.
He was a heap on his side on the ground.
“We can’t leave him,” I said as Dylan began to climb again.
“He’s gone,” Dylan replied, not slowing his pace, not so much as glancing back.
I felt numb, and I thought detachedly that my lack of emotion should be worrying. Like the death of Fredrick, a man I had only known a short time, should have had a greater impact on me.
Maybe I was becoming too used to death.
What was one more name or face to my list?
Evie, Desdemona, the driver, Remy, the academy guard, the Ardens' servant, Fredrick. I couldn’t count how many names and faces I now had the duty to carry, to remember, always.
“Shit,” Dylan hissed as he lunged to the side as dirt exploded beside us. “They’re behind us, too,” he said like a curse. “How many of these fucking bastards are there?” he asked.
My head felt like it wanted to flop, like it was twice as heavy as my neck was used to, and I lay my head against his broad shoulder, struggling to look ahead of us.
In the darkness, two shadows appeared.
Silhouettes with guns.
How many times would I escape Hades tonight?
Dylan roared, animalistically, all shifter.
One of the shadow figures raised his gun, and a spark ignited the blue-black of the night, a glimpse of the new monster on the hill: dark hair and bright eyes.
The shooting behind us ceased.
A moment of near quiet felt almost silent, as if the chaos of noise lay in the distance, muffled chatter in some other part of the house.
Dylan kept running. Faster now.
“Harris,” he called.
“A little birdie told us you need backup,” Harris said as we neared the top of the hill.
“Could have done with your assistance sooner,” Dylan complained.
“It took time to get here,” the woman beside Harris said, annoyed. “You were meant to get in and out quietly,” she continued, chastising.
When we reached the peak of the hill, Dylan didn’t stop to rest.
“This way,” Harris said, walking in front of us, “The vehicle is close, we found an old farm road, one mile southeast,” he explained.
“Percy?” the woman asked, the concern in her voice echoing, like I’d heard it many times before.
I tried to look at her, lifting my head from Dylan’s shoulder, my vision blurred momentarily, before her features came into focus in the darkness.
“Ana?” I asked.
“It’s me,” she replied.
“What happened to your hair?” I questioned. It was short. Very short.
“I got it cut,” she replied, and I watched as she self-consciously lifted a hand to her hair. “Long hair was getting in the way,” she continued in explanation.
“In the way of what?” I asked. What was going on? “Why are you here?”
She looked almost identical to Harris and Dylan, the same military-like uniform, cargos, and a matching thick green jumper. It was too cold for such clothing; still, I saw her short fringe stuck to her forehead, as if she had been sweating heavily.
“I’m here for you,” she answered. “I wasn’t about to leave my best friend.”
I smiled.
Of course, I could count on Ana. She was always there for me. Present at every rescue.
My best friend.
But why was she here? How did she get here?
“I thought you were at the Academy?” I asked.
“I left the same day as you,” she told me.