Page 52 of Dead By Dusk

This only works if they believe we don’t know about the map, tunnels, or that there is any way out. They have to believe we’re running again.

Step by step, we walk in the golden light that falls over us. No one says a word as we make ourselves the perfect unassuming bait. And when we make it to the tunnel entrance, wedged into a large tree, we leave Carmen there as previously discussed.

“Don’t move no matter what you hear,” I quickly say before Ronan and I depart. “We’ll return in no more than an hour. Please, do not leave. We’ll only be half a mile away, and then we’ll be back. Stay hidden. Within the entrance to the tunnel if you must,” I add, even as Ronan is grabbing my hand, readying to pull me ahead of him. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” she responds quickly, waving me on as she conceals herself within the bark of the tree, and then I’m off. Rushing along to a battle I know I must survive.

26

A Beautiful Dream: Silene

Night rapidly approaches as dark clouds begin to blot out most of the remaining light, and I’m becoming more and more unsure of our plan. It’s been quiet. Our importance and the want for our deaths may not be worth the uncertainties that lie in the darkness of the forest. But when we finally begin to question each other aloud, I hear the crunch of the leaves and snap of a twig.

“Are you ready?” Ronan mumbles, gripping a blade in each hand. He turns to look at me as I twirl both hatchets in my own.

“It’s about time something interesting happened. I was quite bored.” I joke, feeling the way he laughs as his back presses against mine.

Just as we expected, it wasn’t just one person who showed up to secure the bragging rights of taking either one of us down. It was at least a dozen. Men of every size, with just about any weapon, and for a second, I question if this is a fight either of uswalk away from. Then I remember how incredibly angry I am to have been stripped of my identity and thrown to the wolves with the expectation to just take it and die.

That fury blinds me as we begin to fight, and I don’t see anything other than red. Blood red spattering onto my body with each slice. I don’t notice when my hair tie is torn causing my braid to come undone. I don’t comprehend how many hits I’ve taken, knowing that none were fatal. I hear and see nothing until I am standing alone in a sea of bodies that litter the ground in a heap of blood and bones.

Scanning the scene, I realize that while Ronan isn’t among the dead bodies, he is also nowhere to be found either. With a racing heart, I frantically trace and retrace the area around me, hoping—no, praying that I’m just missing him. But as I search every bit of land, every single body scattered at my feet, I know that there’s nohim.Anywhere. He’s gone, and I’m not sure if I should be thankful or begin to mourn this loss a second time in a completely different way.

The beating of my bruised and bloody heart is so loud and violent, I can hear it with every pump. It grows claws as it rages inside me, ready to tear its way out of my chest. A monster, that’s what it has become as each breath becomes more strained.

Breathe.I say to myself. I have to repeat it, but I can’t remember how, as each beat of my heart feels like a painful struggle. Deep within, this pounding becomes harder and harder.

I just need tobreathe,but my hands are shaking, and my steps are wobbly as my vision blurs and the forest seems unforgiving and too large. Too large, yet it’s closing in on me.

Breathe.Even if it feels like swallowing a million shards of glass, I have to fight through it. Deep gasping breaths, in and out, as I attempt to think any kind of rational thought. Slowly, I take cautious steps backwards. Far enough to remove myselffrom the field of death. I turn myself around to look at the trees that seem like they’re closing in more and more, no matter how much I know that’s not what’s happening.

Before I know it, I’m taking one step at a time. Confident and determined steps back to the tunnel entrance where I left Carmen, needing my little dreamer to tell me something real. To distract me, give me an answer, or even tell me what I need to do next. Anything really. I need her to do anything because I’m not sure I know the way right now. Not when Ronan is lost.

But then I hear it.

Deep breaths sounding out from the trees ahead.

Loud and rattling breaths that instill a different kind of fear in me than before. A fear that maybe I’m already too late. Late for something I never should have been gone long enough to miss. And suddenly I’m running. I will my legs to move faster than I may have ever ran before, one step in front of the other, taking in every bit of my surroundings when I see her.

A sob, one I didn’t realize I was holding in, escapes me at the sight of her. The dullness in her pale face, the blood that clings to her clothes, and the dirt covering her skin. All of it brings me to my knees, panting as tears begin to coat my lids and lashes. The sound of my grief is so foreign to me, I’m not sure I’ve ever made it before as my throat tightens. I don’t remember a time in my life where I’ve ever been allowed to feel in such a way—so thoroughly broken, but this might be it. This might be too much to bear.

Pale face, bloody chapped lips, chest rising and falling fast and shallow, eyes sunken and closed.

A knife slicing all the way through her abdomen.

Blood pours out of her, and the warmth that resided within her now soaks my pants—covering the skin of my knees as it seeps through the fabric of my clothes. It’s all I can do not torip her body away from the trees and cradle her in my arms. Instead, I take her slim face in my hands and whisper her name.

“Carmen, honey. Open your eyes for me.” It comes out as a broken whisper, the plea that I’m not sure will be answered. Even if she can wake up, our time together won’t last long.

“Please wake up. I need you to open your eyes and tell me what happened. Carmen, please.” My voice, no matter how much I try to keep it steady, wavers. It breaks and shakes just as much—if not more, than my hands.

Her eyes flutter open, though I know it’s a battle. I can tell by the way she draws her eyebrows together and lets out a whimper so small that I wouldn’t have heard it if she didn’t have my full attention. Our gazes meet each other and a small smile graces her lips. Her bloodied, pale lips.

“It’s okay, Si. I was never meant to make it out of here,” she says as a cough wracks her body. She releases another cry. Her eyebrows tightly pull together, the blade still moving within her body with each breath that she takes.

“I was never meant to live.”

Her voice is strained with each word, but she keeps going, tears slowly falling down the length of her face and onto the palms of my hands. “Falling is so quiet, it’s so…” Her eyelids flutter as another cough escapes her and more cries of pain sound out in the space around us. “It’s so quiet, but so is death sometimes. And I wish we would’ve been able to make it out together. My friend…the only one I’ve ever had, really. The only one who cared long enough to be one. Thank you for,” she weakly starts, but I cut her off before she can say anything else.

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