Page 6 of Hunted By Fae
The surge of panic hits the crowd at the same moment—and the urgency swells through the dance, pushing people into runs all over, and I’m staggering in it.
Tesni jumps off the truck and runs for me.
There’s a slight distance between us, but in that slight space, a stream of people rushes by, a violent river current that I’m in danger of being sucked into.
Tesni lunges into the current, boots planted. Like a tree sprouted from the soil, she holds her ground.
Her hand shoots out for mine, wedged between two people rushing by—and our palms slap together.
A strangled sound catches in my throat as I’m yanked through the river of panic, hard enough to spring aches up to my arm socket.
Tesni doesn’t care.
Tesni would dislocate anyone’s arm without a moment’s hesitation to get me out of danger, even my own.
The violence of the pull has me smacking into her, and we both tumble at the impact.
“Go, go, go!” Tesni shrieks, words almost indecipherable. “Fucking get upppp!”
Our boots slip over the dirt as we shove up from the earth. But the moment we are standing, ready to lunge for the truck, to climb onto the hood—the stampede hits.
My eyes are wide, dazed, as a deer slams down on the hood of the blue pickup truck.
Hooves crash down on the metal, hard enough to dent, to crush, before the deer propels itself onto the next.
The stampede washes over us.
I snatch Tesni by the arm, then throw her to the edge of the truck.
The wedge between the truck and the next is slight, barely enough for us to squeeze into—but we jam ourselves in and huddle on the ground.
The stampede rattles the cars, a violent cloud of dirt swallowing us whole.
I sway with the rocking of the trucks sandwiching us.
Tesni’s cry is constant at my side. She huddles up into my shoulder, arms crossed over her head, but the scream—it claws at my bones. Or is that my own scream?
Animals leap overhead, a never-ending stream of so many creatures, and I feel every single one rattle the car against my back. The earth is being pummelled by the stampede of wild animals and the people still caught out there with them.
I can’t help them.
The ones who scream, whose cries curdle the dust-clouded air. All I can do is wait it out.
Whatever the fuckitis.
TWO
BEE
The silence comes with a numbness and a ringing in the ears.
Face twisted, I cringe against it.
How much time has passed, I don’t know. I can’t even guess.
Huddled between the trucks, crouched and braced against any possible misfooting of a deer that might collide with my skull, it felt nothing short of an eternity.
That was the fear that cringed me the whole time. That a deer’s hoof would slip on the truck, or it would miscalculate its frantic steps, and that hoof, or even that whole deer, would come crashing down on me.
