Page 12 of The Savage

I must give him credit because he speaks in a measured, controlled voice, without a hint of panic in it, and says firmly,“If you survive, take the girl to the airfield. Steal a car if you must, but don’t tell anyone. I’ll send a plane.”

He cuts the call and I take a moment to get my breathing under control and take in some huge gulps of air. My stomach is churning, and my limbs are weak and I’m not even sure if I can walk, let alone make it from the apartment and steal a car. How long will it take Malik to send a plane, anyway? I’m doubtful he has one parked at the airfield and if I’m right, it will take several hours for it to land.

When I hear Charlotte retching down the hall, it reminds me I’m not alone in this and so I grab the side of the chair and haul myself up, the room spinning around me as I try to remain conscious.

My body is violently rejecting whatever has made its way into my system and I just pray I never digested enough of the poison to cause serious harm.

My mind returns to how hungry Charlotte was and the huge plate of food I left her with fills me with even more concern for her than myself and I stagger down the hallway and find her sprawled on the ground, her white face staring up at the ceiling with glassy eyes that appear as if they left life already.

Quickly, I run the tap and fill the glass with water and dropping to my knees, I lift her head and hold the glass to her lips. There is no reaction and so I gently trickle the liquid into her mouth and hold her head so it doesn’t choke her.

“Wake up sleeping beauty.” I say through ragged breaths, and she gags as the liquid hits the back of her throat, causing her to choke a little.

Her body reacts to the danger and brings her back and as she recovers, I say roughly, “Drink some more.”

“I…” her voice sounds weak, and I snarl, “Drink it.”

She drinks some more water and then I take a gulp myself and we must be a strange sight cowering on the small bathroom floor, seemingly knocking at death’s door.

As her breathing speeds up, I say as if talking from a distance, “We must leave.”

“I don’t think…” her voice shakes and I say urgently, “Wemustleave. Can you stand?”

“I’ll try.”

As I grip the basin and haul my own large body to my feet, my head spins with the effort and I lean back against the wall, offering her my hand.

As hers closes around it, I hate the weakness in me as I try to help her to her feet.

Somehow, we manage it and without wasting any energy on words, I pull her along the hall with me and reach for the coats we discarded on the hook by the front door.

“We must run; this place is compromised.”

She nods, looking as if she’s about to hurl again but shrugs into the coat and attempts to help me with mine, causing me to smile a little. Despite everything, this small act of kindness hits me somewhere new, and as I stare at the pale beauty before me, I am strangely protective of her. That alone surprises me because I’ve only ever experienced that once before and it concerned my best friend’s sister, Winter. I cared for her like the sister I never had and yet I already know what I’m feeling toward my pretty English rose isn’t the love for a sister. It’s something else entirely. Just that thought alone brings me round quicker than any medical solution and it’s suddenly the most important thing in the world to get us both to safety.

CHAPTER9

CHARLOTTE

This can’t be happening to me. One minute I’m daydreaming in the English countryside and the next I’m in a strange dystopian city wondering if I’ll make it out alive. To make matters worse, my kidnapper appears to be hovering close to death, and I’m not far behind him.

I can’t remember ever being so ill in my life, and he doesn’t seem much better and as I stagger after him back down the hated concrete staircase, I wonder what the fuck is going on.

As we exit, the cold wind makes me shiver but gives me some much-needed oxygen to inflate my wretched lungs and I’m surprised when he takes my hand and says roughly, “Stick close to me. I’m not sure if I’ll get us there alive.”

“What do you mean?”

My voice shakes as I sense danger approaching and he growls, “I’ll tell you later. Trust me.”

I would laugh out loud if I could but I’m so weak, I’m tempted to curl up and die in the stairwell of the slum I’ve just been evicted from.

As we set off, I wonder where we’re going and why and as we turn the corner, the scene is a mirror image of the one we’ve left. Tall gray buildings that look as if they need tearing to the ground stand watching our progress with angry scowls. I’m certain nobody actually lives here because I haven’t seen one human life form since I arrived.

I’m not even sure what time it is because the sky is gray and austere, much like when we arrived, and only the grit in my eyes reminds me I really should be sleeping by now.

I’m shocked when the savage heads toward what looks like a wrecked vehicle and removes a credit card from his pocket.

As the door flicks open, he says with an urgent whisper, “Hurry, we need to get on the road.”

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