Page 23 of The Butcher

A fist slams into my ribs once then twice, stealing my breath in a whoosh of air. My lungs fight to expand while I desperately gasp for air and just when I feel them start to fill, pain lances through my stomach.

I lurch forward as it happens again, the unmistakable feel of metal against my skin, slicing through flesh and muscle in an excruciatingly long movement. One that’s emphasized by a hard hit from bare knuckles against my lower back.

The assault continues, the men slashing my arms and legs, yanking my hair, and punching different areas until my body goes limp.

Whatever Scarlett gave me finally begins to work, that body buzz replacing the pulsing pain coursing through me, almost warming what began to grow cold. I can’t keep my head up anymore, can’t move it at all, and my eyes won’t even try to open anymore.

My body hangs limply from the rope, dangling in the center of the stall like some twisted decoration while the men start to laugh just before things start to fade.

Good.

Maybe this is finally it.

The end I was so afraid of has finally come and…

With a bone-breaking thud, I fall to the floor, the air knocked out of me once again, and this time my breathing turns into shallow panting and a pained gurgle.

The rope tugs at my wrists and I can feel them start to drag me, pulling my body along the dirt floor until the texture changes to a hard, crinkly plastic similar to what the men were wearing. I’m rolled a few times before I’m bound at the ankles, midsection, and shoulders, and then there’s more dragging before I’m hit with a blast of bitter cold.

I’m outside.

For the first time in weeks, I’m outside, but I’m unable to appreciate it because my body is tossed and jostled before slamming into something hard.

The sound of an engine meets my ears, the revving both close and far away, then I’m being jostled back and forth, the bumping and swaying in time with my consciousness.

It feels like forever before it stops, and when it does, my eyes flutter for the last time, catching a glimpse of the blackest sky blanketed with a steady downpour of thick, white snow.

Then I’m falling.

My back hits the ground and I start to roll, the plastic around me coming loose while I hit what feels like rocks and branches until I slam into something hard, finally coming to a stop in a pit of the vilest smells I’ve ever experienced.

This is it.

The cold seeping into my bones, the pain fading to a low hum as a heavy sleep falls over me.

This is the end I was so afraid of, and I can’t help but be angry that it wasn’t actually finished.

I’ve been left to die, and that’s so much worse than being killed by the very people who brought me into the world.

I can only hope Mother Nature is kinder and more merciful than they’ve ever been.

But, once again, I know I’m not that lucky.

Chapter Six

LIGHT A MATCH, NOT A CANDLE

Bramley

“Hey, what’s this asshole doing?”

I squint as I look in the direction Zeke is pointing, both of us watching what appears to be a set of taillights creeping ahead of us toward the turn for Obsidian Falls.

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, I inch closer, tailgating the fucker who’s riding dangerously close to my town without an invite.

We don’t get many visitors, not in a long fucking time, and anyone who casually strolls in is usually met with a less than warm welcome.

It’s not like we run people out of town or some shit, it’s just the last time we had a bunch of new people move in, the entire omega population was wiped out less than a year later, so we get a little goddamn leery when Obsidian starts getting more traffic than we’re used to.

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