Page 52 of The Endless War

Two men came from the opposite side of the hollow, carrying something between them. A corpse. Yet as the torchlight illuminated the form, bile surged up Zarrah’s throat.

Not a corpse. A carcass that had been field dressed like game.

Frozen in horror, Zarrah watched as they stuffed the carcass into the barrel and then dumped in sacks of salt.

Sweat dripped down her brow to splatter against the back of her hand as she watched the other body be carried into the clearing.

“Cut off what we need,” Daria ordered. “But chop it up small andcook it here before bringing it back. She can’t know, or we’ll lose her.”

Blood drained from Zarrah’s face as realization sank into her soul. They hadn’t rescued her from Kian; they’d trapped her. Cared for her like … likelivestock. Kian had been right.

She needed to run. Needed to get away while she could.

There is no escape.

Panic flooded her veins, and Zarrah shifted backward, needing to run. Needing to hide.

Crack!A branch broke beneath her foot.

She froze.

It was too late.

Faces snapped in her direction, Daria’s eyes cutting the darkness to lock with Zarrah’s, then widening in alarm. “Zarrah—”

She was already hurling herself up the slope.

Branches slapped her face, roots catching at her toes and nearly sending her toppling, but Zarrah didn’t slow. Couldn’t slow, because now that their secret was out, what were the chances they’d leave her alive?

Given she’d just watched them stuff two butchered men into barrels to salt cure, her guess was no chance at all.

“Zarrah! Zarrah, wait!” Footsteps pounded behind her, Daria and her warriors pursuing hard. “Let me explain!”

What possible explanation could there be? What words existed that justified what these monsters consumed?

Zarrah put on a burst of speed. The air burned her lungs, a cramp biting her side, but she ignored the pain. Kian was waiting at the border; all she needed to do was make it across. It would be into the arms of a new devil, one whose horrors were yet unknown, but it couldn’t be worse than this.

Nothing was worse than this.

Her toe caught.

Zarrah sprawled, her small knife spinning out of her hand and into the darkness. Panicked, she pawed the forest floor, searching for it.

But the footsteps were coming closer.

Were nearly upon her.

A snarl of frustration and fear tore from her lips, but even with the blade, she wouldn’t be able to fight them all. Her only chance was to escape.

Hands clawing the dirt, she dragged herself upward. Racing toward the summit of the island.

“Zarrah!” Daria’s voice was shrill. “Don’t do it! Don’t cross over! We won’t be able to get you back!”

She didn’t waste breath on a response.

Ahead, she spotted the faint light of torches. Kian, now in the company of his warriors, was waiting. And she was almost at the border.

“Zarrah!”

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