CHAPTER 30
Astrid
I hear the beeping outside. My crate teeters as a forklift lifts me up, taking me somewhere else. I don’t even lift my head. It’s fine. I don’t care. There’s no difference between a beating in this hell or the next.
My thoughts are interrupted as my box tumbles from the forklift. I yelp as I am tossed around. Up becomes down, becomes up again. Curses spew from outside as men try to load the crate. I lean against the cold metal wall, indifferent. It doesn’t matter where they take me. I’m never going home.
Memories of my family flash through my mind. My father tossing me in the lake. My brother, Liam, holding my phone just out of reach. My mother taking me shopping for back-to-school clothes. Mimi teaching me about spirits, showing me how to draw runes. I’ll never see them again.
I wonder if Mimi has tried to reach out to my ghost yet.
I wonder if she was relieved when I didn’t answer, or if she knew that death would be preferable to where I am now. Sparks told me that once, long ago. Said that I should kill myself before I let them take me. I should have believed her.
Sparks. I’ll never see her again either.
I keep hearing her final screams, calling my name.
I want to remember her happy – riding her motorcycle down the freeway, dancing with me in the club, throwing snowballs through the air.
But I can’t. Every memory disintegrates, replaced by only her screams. They keep me company throughout the drive to who knows where.
Eventually, we come to a stop and the door to my cell opens. I sit there as a man ties a blindfold over my face, my vision restricted by the black cloth. I am hauled to my feet, arms gripped callously by two men. The truck drives away once we are clear. The men lead me stumbling through the rain.
I fight the urge to keep myself dry. No powers.
That’s the rule. Breaking the rules only leads to pain and punishment.
I lose my footing on a patch of mud, my wet skin slipping through my guards’ hands.
I freeze, waiting for a blow or a kick to punish my accidental transgression.
We must be in a hurry since it never comes.
Instead, they yank me to my feet, and we continue inside.
They guide me to an industrial staircase, groaning as I stumble up the stairs.
Frustrated, one tosses me over his shoulder for the remainder of the climb.
I hang limply, my hair tickling my arms. At the top of the stairs, I am slumped off his shoulder.
I move to stand, but a backhand strikes my face.
They drag me to a railing, cuffing each hand to a rung.
My hands are wrapped around thick metal bars.
A metal grate cuts into my knees as I kneel submissively.
This is it. They’ve finally decided to execute me.
Why else would they bother to move me? Mixed emotions run through my mind.
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Soon, the pain will be over.
My aching limbs, throbbing ribs, grieving heart.
I can be at peace in the afterlife, reunited with Sparks as my last breath fades.
How about one last game of five senses, just to pass the time until the executioner’s axe swings?
Taste. Blood.
Smell. Blood mixed with rainwater.
Sight. Nothing, mercifully blindfolded.
Touch. Metal, cold.
Sound. Thunder crashes loudly, and I can sense the man next to me jump. I can’t stop the chuckle that escapes my lips. He should be scared.
I hear it again, the storm moving ever closer. Thunder. You know what comes with thunder? Lightning. The thought soothes me, that a part of Sparks will be with me in my death.
I’m coming, Sparks. We can be together again soon. I hold the thought close as heels click along the metal walkway.
I’m coming, Sparks.