Page 17 of Dead By Dusk

I’m only a few feet away from the birds, beginning to reach forward, when my body is thrown to the ground by someone much heavier than me. Before I have time to react, their hands grab my head and pull me closer before slamming it into the ground, and for the first time since everything started, I release an anguished, distressed sound as black spots flitter across my vision. Everything is blurry, but I can still see a rush of movement behind the man. The movement of my petite friend, who has seemingly never wielded a weapon in her entire life, slamming my metal staff into his side.

Probably thinking I’ll be down for a while, he rolls off of my body and onto his feet, dodging her next couple swings before ripping the staff from her skinny and delicate hands. The shock is palpable on her face as she tries to step back but stumbles as he reaches for her and pulls her into his grasp. Her back to him and her gaze on mine. I’m trying hard to get to my feet, to help in any way that I can, but I’m so fucking dizzy, and the haze in my vision refuses to vanish, but I can still see enough. Enough to note the way Carmen has stopped using her hands to try and rip his arms away from her body and instead has quickly raised her knee and brought her foot down onto his.

Hard.

Hard enough to distract him and for her to slip free from his grip, though not enough to keep him off her for long. She doesn’t make it more than a few steps past me before he leaps for her, grabbing a hold of her ankle and bringing her to the ground as well. Her arms are outstretched in front of her as I watch her be dragged back. I don’t understand why she doesn’t fight back at first, so I reach for the man who holds her, trying to grab onto him. My efforts are fruitless; he just kicks my hand away and tightens his grip on her ankles, but he doesn’t look down at her. No. He misses the fact that her retreat was purely out of a need for a weapon. One that was lodged into a bird moments ago but is now clutched in her hands in a white knuckled death grip.

He doesn’t see it until it’s too late, too focused on my rising body and the axes I’ve picked back up despite my still slightly fuzzy vision. Doesn’t notice that she’s no longer pretending to fight him until her arm has already swung out and the dagger is burrowed deep into his side. The first stab shocks him enough to begin letting her go, but she digs her fingers into his arm with her free hand before pulling out the knife and repeating the movement. The second time the cold metal perforates his body, she lets him go as a sob wracks her throat. He tries to retreat, taking sloppy steps as blood pours from both wounds in his side but she grabs the collar of his shirt, and starts pulling him back, and when they’re practically next to each other, she places her hands on his chest and pushes him towards me.

With my body turned to the side and the hatchets raised high, I cut through the air slashing all the way from his right shoulder to his left hip, leaving two gaping wounds gushing bright red liquid while darker blood flows down to the ground. He drops to his knees, a tormented moan slipping past his lips as I squeeze my eyes shut and release one weapon before opening my eyes and cracking my neck. My steps towards him are takenat a menacingly slow pace, but once my feet straddle his tapered waist, I bend my knees, crouching above him and grab him by his hair, yanking his head back.

“How, in the actual fuck, do we get out of here?” I ask the man as each breath he takes comes quicker and more shallow than the last. When he doesn’t answer immediately, I dig the heel of the hatchet into one of the wounds in his back. A deep, shuddering scream leaves his throat. “I asked you a question, and I really don’t enjoy asking more than once,” I say. He just chuckles, weak and humorless.

“You don’t.”

Two words is all it takes for my bravado to falter. Only for a second, as that’s the only amount of pity and doubt I will allow myself right now. One second, and I’m digging the heel of the hatchet into his wound again. His head jerks as he tries to pull away from me and swears before falling into a fit of hysterical laughter. “Do what you want, I’m not lying,” he starts before a rattling cough takes over, shaking his whole body. It’s only when he stops and spits on the ground, saliva dripping from his bottom lip that our eyes meet and a lifeless smile overtakes his features. “None of you can make it out of here alive. Nobody ever survives the forest and even… if…y—,” his voice fades. Each word quieter and harder to push out, and I tighten my grip in his hair and tap his cheek a few times to keep him with us a little longer.

“Even if what? Finish your sentence,” I force out through gritted teeth. The way he looks at me says that he doesn’t have much longer. His lids are heavy and staying closed longer with every blink, but he continues regardless. “Even if you do—which you won’t, you would wish you didn’t. You’d remember who you are, what brought you here and realize that you lost everything. You’d have nothing to return to. So fight if you want. But you might find that acceptance is the easiest way out. Your fate is set in stone. No one—”

I cut him off by lodging the axe into the back of his skull, his blood spattering onto my face as I step on the back of his head for leverage and dislodge the blade before dropping it on the ground next to me. “I’ll accept death when she comes to take my hand and drag me to hell, but not a moment before,” I spit out, but as I go to step away, my knees buckle and it’s Carmen who takes my arm and drapes it over her shoulders to steady me before I fall. Studying her features, I see the sadness still carved into every facet of her being, but there’s also a strength there. Somewhere behind the shock and grief I know she must be feeling after killing someone for what very well may have been the first time. Or at least aiding in his demise.

She guides me down to the ground, and I press my forehead into the earth and my palms into my eyes. The throbbing in the back of my head hasn’t lessened in the slightest and I feel as if it may split in two at any moment. Carmen’s hand gently rubs reassuring circles into my back. Pressing my forehead into the soft, cool dirt for just a moment longer, I allow myself to feel and process the man’s words. Few as they may have been, they were also too much, and I almost wish that I would have ended him sooner.

I will not die today.

The mantra is small and short and so repetitive at times, but it’s a promise as much as it is a reminder. I am strong. I am smart. I will find a way. That’s all there is to it, and I cannot allow myself to die as long as I have Carmen to think of. “Do you think…” her voice is small and shaky as she trails off, and I brace my hands on either side of me before slowly pushing up until I’m almost eye to eye with her. She pulls her hand off my back and starts fidgeting her fingers, busying herself while she gathers her thoughts, I suppose.

I don’t speak as she tries to form the rest of her question, giving her a moment of peace to collect her thoughts. It’s theleast I can give to her after she saved our lives. Not just hers, which she could have easily done, but she felt mine was worth saving too. “Do you think he was telling the truth? That we—” Her voice wavers, and she tightly clutches her hands together, squeezing her eyelids shut as if to keep tears at bay. Bringing my hands to hers, I gently cradle them in mine, waiting for her to look at me. When she does, I keep my facial expression neutral, not allowing her to see any uncertainty.

“I think that he knew he was going to die. A dead man will say anything—is willing to wreak havoc and destruction upon anything and everything because he’s weak and wants everyone to feel the same way.” I move to stand, guiding her up with me as I continue. “I know he’s lying.”

“And how do you know? How could you possibly know that with absolute certainty?” she whispers, her voice filled with disbelief. I don’t blame her for sounding unsure. Our survival rate seems minimal at best, nonexistent at worst. The thought alone casts a somber mood around us, but I keep my feet planted firmly on the ground and my shoulders squared back.

“I know that I already made a promise to myself. I don’t break promises.”

“What did you promise yourself?”

“That you live. No matter what, you live.”

Her breath hitches as she looks at me with something akin to shock. Neither of us speak for a long while after that. Not while we pick up all the discarded weapons. Not while we check the man for anything that can help, not finding much other than a small flask of what seems to be water and more holsters for different weapons. We don’t talk while we defeather the birds either. It isn’t until I’m preparing a small fire to roast the birds that she clears her throat, and I turn my gaze towards her.

“How do you do that? Start a fire, I mean?” The question is simple and I give her a small smile and nod her over to me.

“It’s pretty easy, actually. Normally, you would make a small pit into the Earth but the ground is wet, so instead you want to elevate it. I gathered more rocks and then set the twigs on top. This also will encourage air circulation, which is helpful as well.” She’s nodding her head, brows furrowed and chin tilted as she listens and watches my hands with rapt fascination. Seeing how the rocks create sparks as they slam against each other several times, creating more and more friction before a spark turns into a flame and the small flame turns into a small fire. A fire just big enough to cook our little meal.

Once the birds look as if they’ve been cooked all the way through, I snuff out the fire by throwing wet soil over the top and ridding it of its access to heat and oxygen. While I don’t think anyone would have been able to see the smoke caused from the small bundle of heat and light that had been in front of us, it’s not a risk we should take. “We should eat this while we walk,” I start as I look around us, ensuring that we aren’t leaving anything behind. “We’ve been sitting still long enough. I don’t believe there’s no way out, but Idobelieve in tempting fate. With how many times we’ve been hit today, I don’t want to risk tempting her any further.”

Carmen’s gaze is inquisitive but she falls into step next to me regardless. The two of us slowly eat while stalking steadily into the forest, our silent footfalls mystified by the oddity of our environment and circumstance. With every step my gut churns, not with hunger but with anticipation. In an unnerving suspicion that something is off, that we’re walking toward more questions than answers, and it isn’t until after we’ve eaten and taken the smallest of sips from the dead man’s flask that I understand why this foreboding feeling dug itself into my chest so thoroughly.

For in front of us lies death.

As far as the eye can see, an electrical current zips through the air. A fence-like enclosure stretches far up above the trees, wrapping around everything and trapping us like animals in a zoo.

No way outplays through my mind with every harsh beat of my heart. It repeats over and over again, and the pain in my neck and head returns, thrumming along with it. It’s impossible. There has to be a way out, I know it. But not this…this—

God, the closer I get, the straighter the hair on my body stands, the harsher the microshocks rushing against my skin feel. Not a light caress, but a fire lighting its way through all that I am, until I’m nothing but a promise that feels further and further away. We need to leave and we need to leave now, but—

“I can feel it in my veins…the electricity. It feels like it’s part of me. Almost as natural as a current in a river. Inevitable. Expected.” Flicking my gaze toward her, I see her waving her hand in front of the area, still quite a few feet away, but closer than I dare to stand. She almost looks as if she’s living in a dream, entranced by the magnitude of power being released at such close proximity. “I wonder if this is what it feels like.”

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