Page 15 of Dead By Dusk

We’ll be lucky to make it out alive.

The three of us look between each other a few times, silent words and commands passing through each of us, small agreements with the slightest of nods. We know the stakes, but we’d rather fight and die than wait here like cowards. Inhaling deeply, I mentally go through my plan, ensuring it’s flawless through and through—that there’s no version of what happens next that ends with an arrow through my chest when I hear it. Five words. Short and simple, but ones I know I’ve heard before with the way my chest constricts as if the sheer memory is painful.

You do not die today.

I will not die today. Not now.

Not ever.

Not without you, Killer.

Looking to my right, I make eye contact with the bulky man whose name I still don’t know. If we don’t make it out alive, then I’ll never learn the most basic identifier of a human being I’ve been around for at least the last twenty hours. Someone who is trusting me with his life, and I am doing the same. The thought is as sickening as it is comical, and I know the first thing I do ifwe live is going to be asking for his name, even if I’ll look like a complete asshole for going this long without knowing.

We share a brief nod and I mouth one word. Simple and short.

Run.

He doesn’t waste any time as he books it away from us, body low and steps quick, covering a short distance before he slides down and stops behind a different tree, curving his hand around the trunk to halt his momentum. In the time it took him to make it over, two arrows were shot in rapid succession, though at an angle and not while he was standing, but after he already dove to the ground.

They weren’t ready for him,is the thought that races through my brain. There’s no way there can be multiple shooters. Not when they were so unprepared for him to move.

They’ve set their sights on me.

Our chances for survival, in my opinion, have increased slightly now that we know what we’re dealing with. He looks towards us, his face like a stone that gives nothing away—even as his chest rises and falls heavily, and then he angles his head to better see what’s happening behind us. Now that he’s a few trees away, he’s at a better vantage point to see the attacker.

He remains looking back for quite some time before looking toward us again, beginning the worst game of charades I’ve ever played in my life. One shooter. Twenty feet away, getting closer. Two arrows already nocked. Moving around to the side of the tree. When he signs that last part, I start shifting my body around the trunk, but he holds up a hand to stop me. Eyes darting back and forth from me to the other, I wait for his go ahead to move.

Slowly. I move so slowly, it’s almost painful when he finally dips his chin and mouths the word at me. With my eyes fixed on him, I didn’t notice that Nate had moved from behind his treeto mine, but I definitely do notice when my foot knocks into his, startling me enough to swiftly pin him to the tree by his neck.

His body tightens with tension as his wide gaze settles on mine. He brings his finger up to his mouth in a way that says “calm down and keep quiet” without actually telling me to get my shit together. I squeeze a little bit harder for a moment, glaring at him before ripping my hand away. I look over my shoulder to see if we’re still good from the other man’s perspective.

He brings both hands up to point at the two of us and motions for us to both go around the tree on either side and attack simultaneously. He quickly holds one hand up signaling for us to wait. He looks around for a moment, before grabbing a couple of small stones and twigs, and then mouthing “five seconds.”

I watch as his free hand counts down.

Five, he’s already crouching rather than sitting, meaning he also plans to move when we do.

Four, he’s looking past us again toward the shooter before checking the rest of our surroundings again.

Three, Nate and I position ourselves to take off in our respective directions.

On two, the man tosses the handful of stones and twigs in one direction while booking it in another, effectively drawing the attention away from us as we both hear the snap of the band.

On one, we’re both running while the shooter looks at us in shock, scrambling to ready a new arrow. Neither of us back to make sure our companion is unharmed as we dart toward our attacker.

A woman, and I shouldn’t be surprised given how light on her feet she had been. She’d practically been the slightest breeze on an already cold day, going unnoticed as she went in for a kill. Agood skill to have, but you need to never miss if you’re going to use it. Stealth only gets you so far if you can’t make the killshot.

Her blonde hair is in a long braid that flies behind her as she turns around and begins to run in the opposite direction, continuing to try and nock another arrow She looks back and notices how much distance we’ve gained and releases a groan of frustration, skidding to almost a complete halt as she swings her body to the left, her right arm holding the bow coming up before she thrusts it back down, hitting Nate in the shoulder. I don’t have time to assess the damage because she’s already using her left hand to grab a dagger sheathed at her waist, spinning and slicing at my approaching form while Nate groans in pain. I dodge the blade, hearing it swoosh through the air as time seems to slow down, watching as it misses my chest by less than an inch.

She narrows her black eyes at me, her face twisted with wrath as we circle each other. I watch Nate approach her from behind, rolling and rubbing at his shoulder before taking his place across from me, the two of us circling her as she continuously adjusts her body to keep eyes on the both of us, still holding her bow and dagger. I watch her like a hawk. The second I see her tighten her hold on the dagger and fix her gaze on Nate, I know she’s about to make the first move, and pretty soon we’re in a battle of kicking, punching, and slashing.

She moves like an experienced fighter, able to hold her own against two men much larger than her. If she weren’t trying to kill me at the moment, I’d probably respect her rather than want to twist her head all the way around like an owl and see if the last word that leaves her mouth is “Who,” while the rest of her sentence gets cut off as the deafening sound of her neck snapping echos through our minds. Regardless of how satisfying it would be in the moment, it would be nothing but a tauntingrealization that we had murdered the first chance of answers that came our way.

“We can’t kill her,” I grunt out as I’m dodging almost every hit that comes my way. I check how well Nate is faring, but the second it took cost me because her dagger grazes my left upper arm, the wound stinging as blood rises to the surface.

“I know that already, did you not!?” Nate grits out, exasperation lacing every word, possibly perplexed by the thought that I even felt the need to even say it.

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