Page 14 of Dead By Dusk

“So food then. We’re looking for food,” says the man next to me. He sighs as he looks around, no doubt seeing what we’ve all seen the past several hours: nothing.

“Food and water, preferably, yes. Though information is valuable as well. I would bet money that the other two found something, and that’s why they ran. Should we find them first, I’d still count us lucky.” This time when he mentions them, I notice how he slowly lets his gaze travel away from us and scan around with something keen to curiosity.

They. Them. The other two.

He still has yet to say a name, regardless of his apology about leaving us in the dark. Has still danced around the truth, and I wonder what exactly there is to hide. Wonder if I should speak or if my words are better left unsaid to slowly pick and chip away at my desire to know more. I need to know more. I need to know that I’m right. That the voice I heard on the other side of the stairs is her. I would recognize that voice anywhere, yet a partof me doubts. Not really. My dreams might just have her voice because it was the last feminine one I had heard, but even if that were the case…

It has to be her. It has to be her, and I have to do whatever it takes to make sure that she’s okay, because the last time—

The last time what? When was the last time and why do I have a feeling it didn’t end well? That there were lines that weren’t just crossed, but completely shattered, the pieces so small they may as well be grains of sand weathered by the ocean crashing down on them. The line doesn’t exist any longer, and I hate not having the knowledge of how it all went wrong. I let myself drown in those thoughts, deeper and deeper until I am no longer anything but the sea that has carried them away.

A pale hand on my shoulder pulls me out of its depths.

Blue clashes with brown as his eyebrows furrow, and his head tilts in an unspoken question.

“I’m sorry, I seem to have lost myself for a moment. What was the question or the decision?” I chuckle, trying to sound lighter than I feel. Both men stare at me, though their thoughts are impenetrable as I try to read them.

“We decided upon a vote.”

“A vote for—”

I don’t get to finish the question as I’m cut off when Nate moves, quicker than I would’ve imagined possible, grabbing my shoulders and shoving me out of the way while spitting out a quick, “Watch out!”

Stumbling over my feet, I lose my balance for a moment, but not before turning my head in time to see an arrow shoot through the air where I had been standing. The sound slicing through the static noise that fills my senses. Time seems to slow down. None of us were hit, but I’m tracking the direction of the arrow, looking for the source. The fog, while lighter, wasn’t completely gone, and the shooter is using it to their advantage.

Ducking behind a tree and staying low to the ground, I look toward the other two men, and see that they’re already doing the same. They start aggressively making hand gestures at each other and, while I’m not a genius, I do know it’s most definitely not sign language, but instead a silent argument to see whose plan we’ll follow. Fair, but I’m not going to just sit and wait. I know the rough direction it came from, and the angle wasn’t harsh. They’re on the ground somewhere, probably heading closer now. There’s no time to waste.

Patting the ground, I start feeling for rocks or twigs. The shooter will expect us to move, and I’m hoping they’re ready to fire upon any movement. I find a large stone wedged into the earth beneath me. Thankfully, the ground is till soft beneath my fingertips and easily moves away, allowing me full access to remove the stone I had found. Taking one more glance towards my companions, I see they are still engaged in a silent and useless argument—-progressively getting more and more agitated.

Useless. The arguing is useless. I start ruffling some of the leaves and branches around me as if I’m working to stand, purposely making noise. Hopefully, when I throw the rock, the sounds will make the movement seem convincing. They’ll either shoot because they’re ready, or they’re not ready and are just watching us in hopes that someone is idiotic enough to emerge right now. Either way would be good and tell me everything I need to know about the attacker in the forest with us and how we should react. The other men don’t understand as one gives me an inquisitive look and the other glares at the noise I’m making, but I don’t care much. I smirk, wink and then let the rock roll out of my palms and through the air—still somewhat low, but not at a steep angle.

Not too soon after it leaves my hands, there’s athwarpsound as an arrow whizzes by and makes contact, telling me everything I need to know.

Whoever the shooter is, they’re ready and watching.

They shoot with precision. One misstep, and we’re dead.

The shooter is closest to me, because the arrow wasn’t shot at an angle.

There may be more than one shooter. While they possibly heard the noise I was making, there’s no guarantee, meaning, multiple players could be ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

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