Page 17 of Where Broken Wings Fly

What if she left?

What if it’s all a hoax?

Fire licks at my insides, the stabbing pain in my chest forcing me to stop for a second. I’m gasping hard and struggling for breath. The taste of blood is thick on my tongue, flooding my mouth with a constant coppery flow.

Hunched over with my hands gripping my trembling knees, I hack up several mouthfuls of blood as black spots interfere with my vision. Everything is blurry.

I’m running out of time. I know that I can’t keep up this pace for much longer. The mad scramble over rocks and moss-covered banks to get this far almost killed me off.

“Faster, Ari,” I beg her. “We have to keep going.”

“Too tired,” she complains.

“Please, baby. For me.”

Hand bunched in my sweat-drenched shirt, Arianna clings to me as we hike onwards through the darkness. Our feet crunch over twigs and rocks, adding to the strange symphony of sounds deep in the forest.

I’ve never seen anywhere like this place. It feels like the trees are alive, their powerful branches stretching so high above us, it’s a wonder they don’t kiss the clouds.

“I wish Pedro were here,” Arianna whispers. “He could carry us both.”

Stumbling on numb feet, the vision of his final moments comes back to me. Collapsing in a puddle of blood, his usually warm, compassionate eyes were empty of all life.

I can’t waste his sacrifice. We have to make it. There’s no other option, and I’ll die trying if that’s what it takes to get my little girl to the safety of Briar Valley. Arianna has to live.

Time trickles by in a blur of darkness, pain and exhaustion. My strength is fading fast, sapped by the constriction of my lungs, which are burning so fiercely it feels like I’ve swallowed a lit match.

With my eyes barely open, I spot the huge tree root in the path far too late. Losing my footing, a scream locks my throat up as I fall backwards over a deep ridge.

“Ari!”

Her tiny hand is ripped from mine, and she shrieks so loud, the terrified sound slashes through my ribcage and spears my heart. It hurts far worse than the thorns shredding my exposed skin as I fall with nothing to grab hold of.

Falling. Falling. Falling.

This is it.

My death.

Gelatinous mud fills my hands in my frenzied search to stop myself from sliding further down the steep bank. My hand catches on another exposed root, but it breaks off with a loud snap, and I scream again.

Warmth trickles down my face. All I feel is blinding pain as I tumble on and on through the mud, eventually hitting the bottom of the ravine and splashing into a current of freezing-cold water.

“Mummy!” Arianna’s cries pierce the night.

Clawing my eyes open, frigid water batters my body, blurring into the beat of fists on flesh. He’s here. Mr Sanchez is going to break every last bone inside of me this time.

“Mummy! What should I do?”

I can’t even open my mouth without choking. Pain assaults me from every direction. Pounding. Piercing. Slashing my flesh into ribbons. Taking the last vestiges of hope that led me into these woods.

The welcome numbness of darkness approaches with open arms, punctuated by her sobbing from above. Clinging to consciousness, I beg the world on my knees to keep her safe. My little girl. My angel. My one light at the end of this very long tunnel.

If I must die, I want her to live for us both. Arianna is the best part of me, the only proof I have that my life has been worth living. I need to know that she will be okay.

“I can see lights! I’ll get help!”

Hit by another crashing wave of nausea, I succumb to the warmth of unconsciousness. My only company is the bitter, hateful voice that has tattooed itself into my mind over many years of relentless torture.

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