Page 1 of The Awakening

My lungs burn every time I inhale a breath. Every muscle fiber in my body screams, telling me to slow down, but I can’t. I can’t stop running now, or he’ll surely catch me. Running through the dense, wet forest, I try to stay light on my feet. I quickly jump over piles of leaves and dodge the tree limbs that litter the muddy ground. The air is painfully cold; the wind biting into my skin through the thin, long-sleeved top that’s hugging my skin. My jeans are already soaked, causing my legs to stiffen from the frigid air, making running harder.

It’s late October. Summer has come and gone too quickly, and I’m left wishing for the sun’s warmth with each passing day. Continuing to run, I spot a large tree with a wide trunk at its base. I sprint towards it, hoping to conceal myself to catch my breath. Grabbing the tree’s trunk, I spin my body around, pressing my back against the freezing wet bark as I try to control my breathing. Keeping still, I close my eyes and focus on what I hear. I don’t dare peek around to see and risk exposing my hiding spot. I hear the slight rustling of the trees against the wind, but what I’m listening for is him, but I can’t hear him.

I stay in this spot for a moment longer. Once my breathing has calmed, I sprint once more, pushing off the tree’s roots and digging my heels into the Earth. When I see the opening of the forest and a beam of light becomes visible through the tree line, I smile in satisfaction. I’ve made it. I’m almost there. I’m about to reach the outskirts of the forest, when I’m thrown to the forest ground. A heavy mass collides with my back, pinning me against the freezing mud. I thrash and fight, gathering all my strength to roll beneath him and free my body. Using my legs, I can maneuver half my body sideways, allowing me to move and come out on top of my attacker. Pulling my knife from the strap that’s secured above my boot, I push the blade to the throat of my attacker. He stops moving, raising his hands in a silent surrender.

“You stopped running. You gave the enemy time to catch up with you. Never give them that chance.” Arno’s breathing heavily as I straddle his waist, still pressing my knife to his throat.

“Does it matter? Do you see where you are now? It looks to me like I’ve won.” My smile is wicked as I lower my face to his.

I’m about to ease my blade away from his throat, but he grabs my wrists in his large hands. He lifts my body up and over his head with his legs, causing me to land flat on my back. The air is instantly knocked from my lungs, and I struggle to suck in a breath. I close my eyes and wince at the pain, but the sound of a gun cocking has my eyes shooting open.

“Cockiness will get you killed, little one. Besides, never expect to win a gunfight with a knife.” With that, Arno reaches out his hand to mine. I willingly grab his as he pulls me to my feet in one swift motion. It takes me a moment to catch my breath as I re-sheathe my blade, and Arno places his gun back in the holster.

I’ve been training to become a Shadow now for six months. Every day is different—from weapons training to technology to hand-to-hand combat to days like today. Today is Arno’s day of training, and we’ve been focusing on the art of escaping without being captured. He’s explained that on some jobs, once the target has been eliminated, I will be left exposed. Thus, forcing me to flee the location undetected—easier said than done. We’ve been running this lesson most of the morning. I eliminate said target and then proceed to try to make my escape towards the end of the forest, which is lining the edge of The Shadows’ Headquarters.

I have yet to make it successfully to the opening, and my frustration is now at an all-time high.

“Why can’t I simply kill anyone who chases me?” I could have easily killed Arno and won this match, so why can’t I protect myself and kill anyone who follows me? They wouldn’t be good people if they had communicated with the target.

“Sloan, I’ve told you this before. You kill the target and no one else. Unless they’re an active threat, meaning they are actively trying to kill you. Other than that, they’re off limits.”

I scoff as we both turn and start walking back towards headquarters.

“Well, that’s plain stupid. If they are chasing me, isn’t that a threat?” I complain as my teeth start chattering from the cold.

“Okay, let’s say you do kill everyone. Who’s to say you didn’t kill someone of high importance?”

“Example?” I ask, drawing out the word in annoyance. He doesn’t answer me immediately, but another voice appears ahead, answering for him.

“Let’s say you kill an innocent politician who is working towards ending sex trafficking. A woman who’s simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe a girl who is walking home from a busy day working at the coffee shop.” I lower my head, absorbing his words. He’s right; I can’t become so dissociated that I no longer care about killing people. I need to be mindful. I need to be one step ahead. Everett’s frame comes into view. He’s walking towards us, maneuvering through the trees in and out of sight.

Arno and I both stop, waiting for Everett to reach us. When he does, he leans down to kiss my forehead before speaking again. “We only kill those who deserve to be killed. We kill because, without those people, the world is a better place. Killing just to kill is what makes them different from us. We kill with a purpose and intention.” He’s gazed down at me, his green eyes fixated on mine as he pulls me in for a hug.

“You’re fucking freezing. Let’s get you inside.” I nod, thanking the heavens he’s here. I think I might die from hyperthermia if I’m out here any longer. Everett wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me tightly to his side as we approach the building. Arno comes to my other side, walking in sync with us.

“I have to say, mate, she’s getting faster and a lot fucking stronger.” He wraps his hand around his throat before continuing, “She almost slit my throat a moment ago.” Arno snickered. I glanced to Everett for his reaction, his crooked smile pulling on his cheek as he lets out a laugh. The satisfaction Everett gets whenever he hears about me hurting or attempting to kill Arno is that of a proud boyfriend.

Everett glances down at me, giving me a wink, a sudden sense of pride filling my chest. It’s been over a year now that I’ve been with my guys. A year since they kidnapped me off the streets, brought me to Stone Fortress, then came back and saved me from that sex trafficking shit show. I still can’t believe this is the life I’m living.

We continue walking along the forest as I listen to Arno and Everett talk about my training. They both agree I’m excelling in hand-to-hand combat, weapon skills, and building my strength. I’m not, however, excelling in technology. Computers have never been something I’ve been intelligent with. Hacking and coding are such a foreign language to me; I just can’t grasp the concept. Arno says it’ll take time and practice, but I still can’t imagine being able to understand how ones and zeros can be used to communicate. Numbers are not letters in my mind, and I pray it’ll all make sense to me soon.

We reach the end of the forest and make our way out of the cover of the trees. The cool air bites my skin as the trees no longer provide some protection from the icy wind. I glance to my right, and the familiar ache in my chest begins as I see Colson’s grave nestled in the corner of The Shadows’ personal cemetery. It lies in a small meadow before the forest starts, blocked off by a beautifully ornate black iron fence that wraps around the land. It still hasn’t gotten easier to see his resting place. The pain is still there, and I fear it will never go away. As if he, too, feels the pain of losing his brother every time he sees his tombstone, Everett squeezes my hand a bit tighter.

“I miss him too, love. He’d be so proud of you,” his voice is low, but Arno and I both hear him. I hold back the familiar sting of tears building behind my eyes. I’m about to say something back, but Arno beats me to it.

“He’s laughing in his grave right now at how much of a beating you’ve put me through this past week. I can hear his smug ass now.” He changes his voice to sound less deep and more Colson-like. “Slice his throat sweetheart, no one will miss his arrogant ass.” I laugh at Arno’s attempt at sounding like Colson, and I hear Everett try to hold back his laugh but fail. Arno has kept us laughing as Everett, Dean, and I mourn Colson’s loss. They say time heals all wounds, but that’s a damn lie. No length of time will heal the pain of losing a piece of my heart, a fragment of my soul.

We reach headquarters, and the moment we step through the doors, warmth engulfs my frozen body as I slowly begin to thaw. The three of us continue down the hall until we reach the locker rooms.

“Go take a shower, love, and warm up. Meet us back in the lounge when you’re done, and we’ll go over the rest of the week’s training plan,” Everett says before leaning in and kissing me gently. He and Arno continue down the hall, leaving me alone.

Heading into the locker room, I head straight to one of the three showers located at the back and immediately turn the faucet to a scalding temperature. I head to my locker and begin stripping off my wet clothes, discarding them at my feet. This isn’t a high school locker room, instead, it’s more of a spa-like atmosphere. Not that I’ve ever been to a spa before to compare, but this is what I imagine a resort to resemble. The small room with the lockers is carpeted in a deep red color, and each locker is made of dark wood and is large and spacious. Your fingerprint is your key to open your locker. I couldn’t be happier that I didn’t have to remember a number lock or hold a key that I would surely lose.

It’s serene in here, the only noise is the spray of the running shower. Stripping down until I’m entirely naked, I grab my towel and go to the shower.It’s now wholly blanketed with steam, and I can hardly see in front of me as I continue walking mindlessly through the tiled room. When I know I’m standing in front of my shower. I hang my towel and open the glass door, allowing the steam to billow. The warm mist is soothing as it seeps into my bones and warms me from the inside out.

Stepping into the shower, the water is boiling I have to step back and modify the temperature. I’m waiting for the water to cool down, testing the spray with my hand, when I hear the faint sound of the locker room door clicking shut. I turn to see who it could be, but after a few moments, I hear nothing.

“Hello?” My voice echoes off the walls as I wait for a response. Nothing.

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