Page 23 of Of Heathens & Havoc

They’re already at ten seconds, though, and my heart thrums with a heady burst of adrenaline. I hurry my steps, moving my hands up and down the wall as I go.

And then I get my first break—a ledge. It’s higher than I’d like, so I’m barely able to feel it at all. When I stand on tiptoes, though, I can get my fingers onto it. It would help if I could spread my hands wider to get better purchase, but I don’t have that luxury. I lift myself, digging my toes into the gritty dirt wall.Somewhere behind, another burst of howls rises, each more feral than the last.

A shiver wracks my body, and I glance back into the darkness, knowing I’ll never see them coming. My feet slip from the wall, my toenail tearing.

Pain volleys up my leg, and I hold back a curse, biting down on the beads to keep it in. Tears swim in my eyes, but I have no vision, so they’re not hurting anything. I start again, dragging my nightgown up around my hips so it won’t bind my legs.

Footfalls echo in the tunnel, and my heart stops. I hang suspended by my hands, my feet braced on the wall and my skirt hiked up.

The footsteps charge past the end of the turn I took, and I let out a breath as they echo further on.

Just as I start to relax, I hear the quiet pad of more footsteps, these one’s stalking instead of charging in. No howls accompany this Hellhound. There’s only the scuff of shoes on dirt, and quiet breathing.

My heart explodes into a frantic, irregular rhythm, and I scramble on the wall, knowing my time is nearly up. Just when I think it’s over, my toe digs into a soft spot in the dirt, and I heave myself up with all the power in my thighs. I land badly, my huge sheep head bouncing off the dirt, my body belly down on top of my hands. My wrist twists funny, and I suck in a breath, almost choking on the beads. There’s no time to nurse the pain. I swing my legs up and twist around, so I’m lying flat on the dirt ledge. I can feel the ceiling looming only inches above me, the presence of it hovering like a trap.

I try not to imagine the tunnels caving in, crushing us all to death.

And then I’m too scared to imagine anything, because the footsteps slow, and I can hear the breathing so close I couldreach out and touch him. I’m sure that if I turned my giant sheep head, I’d be staring right into the soulless, savage eyes of a Hellhound.

I don’t turn my head. I don’t even breathe. I hold the beads clenched between my aching jaws, praying like the rosary is wrapped around my fingers instead of my tongue. And I pray harder than I’ve ever prayed in my life that he won’t see me. I’m probably seven feet off the ground, and most men aren’t that tall. He’ll be looking ahead, not up.

Then I remember Bain from the group they called the Sinners, his grey eyes piercing into mine when he stood over me.

Can a Sinner be a Hellhound?

Please don’t let him be a Hellhound.

Then I hear the footsteps slowly making their way further along, and my body melts into a puddle of pure relief, shaking with terror and adrenaline from the close call. When I can’t hear his footsteps anymore, I slowly ease my weight off my aching hands. Feeling my way, I edge back until I meet the wall, wedging myself into the space as far as I can. Just as I’ve decided I can’t be seen, a howl sounds again, then an ear-piercing shriek. It echoes along the corridor so close I can almost feel the soundwaves racing along my skin.

Every hair on my body stands on end when feral snarling and growling fills the air, the sound coming from directly below me. There’s a thud of bodies, and then hysterical giggling and the sound of a struggle, gasping cries and tearing fabric. The growling turns into grunts and the giggling is cut off by a soft, mewling cry. Then the entire hallways is filled with carnal sounds, as if a predator really is devouring its prey. Animal groans and snarls tear through the air, along with whimpering and moaning and a wet sound like a lion devouring its catch.

My cheeks burn with so much heat I’m sure they’ll glow like coals, drawing the attention of the players below. I squeezemy eyes closed and pray they’ll go away, that the throbbing heat between my thighs will ease. With a few final shrieks and a bellowing roar, the noises dissipate, and there’s only ragged, rapid breathing below.

Then the quiet footsteps scuff from the other direction, where the silent predator went hunting. There’s another sudden shriek, and then the sounds of a quiet, rough binge fill the tunnel again.

I squeeze my eyes closed, wishing I could block out the sounds instead of the darkness that my sightless eyes can’t pierce anyway. But I’m not brave enough to raise my hands and risk rustling sounds, let alone the giant head is probably so big I couldn’t even squeeze it around my ears. As soon as they’re gone, I’ll pull off the stupid thing to make moving around and hiding easier.

Until then, I will the girl being used so roughly to say the words, the phrase that ends her game—and mine. All I need is for one person to say it, and then if anyone catches me, I’ll immediately spit out the beads and blurt it out.

Heath doesn’t have to know the rosary ever left my mouth. I’ll be safely in my room by the time the game ends and he realizes I’m gone.

Unless he’s the one who catches me…

I decide not to remove the sheep head after all. Maybe by some miracle he won’t know it’s me, despite the nightgown. I could tear that shorter to make running easier if I need to make a getaway, tear the sleeves off to make it unrecognizable. Then I’ll just have to risk being caught by Heath. If I hear the word, I’m using it.

There are thirteen Hellhounds. The chances of being caught by Heath are slim.

But what then? He said he’d release the confession to the public if I didn’t play. I’ve played. Even if I quit early, I entered the game and showed up on HAVOC night.

His words earlier creep into my mind though.

I’ll come for you even harder…

I shiver as the feasting below me ends. Several pairs of footsteps leave, but I can still hear breathing below for a while. I know if I can hear her, she can hear me, so I take long, slow breaths through my nose, making myself as silent as humanly possible. My hands are completely numb now.

Finally, she gets up and leaves.

For the next few hours, I listen to howls coming and going. I hear mating again, this time further away, thankfully. Footsteps race by several times, but I’ve found a good hiding place, and no one disturbs me. I’m even able to roll over onto my back and let the feeling return to my hands.

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