Innocents

by Lena August

  Chapter 7

  When I wake up, I am lying in a make-shift shelter, composed of a mixture of scrap metal and plant material. I put my hand to my stomach and find that the bleeding has stopped and the cut has been bandaged. The cut on my forearm has also been treated. Even though I still feel weak, I attempt to sit up. My muscles ache in protest, but I shut out the pain. I look around the hut and discover Kyla sitting up in the opposite corner. She has a black eye and a sizeable bump on her forehead, but otherwise she looks uninjured. Other than that, the shelter is empty; I don’t even have my backpack with me. When Kyla sees me she gives a forced smile. “Oh good, you’re up, I was beginning to think you had died.” Although she tries to keep her voice casual, I can hear the underlying panic.

  “Where are we?” I ask

  “Hell if I know. The last thing I remember is getting hit on the head. Next thing I know, I wake up here with you. I was hoping you knew what is going on. What happened? How did we get out of there alive?”

  “I think someone rescued us.” I answer, “I was fighting, but they had me trapped and were going to kill me. But then some guy came and killed them.” I shudder at the memory, remembering the ease at which the boy killed the others. “Kyla,” I say, “I think he might be Domus. I remember something he said, about working for Marek.”

  Fear clouds Kyla’s dark eyes. “If he is, then we are worse than dead. We would have been better off dying back there.”

  I wonder why they bothered to rescue us in the first place. For information about the PSC, maybe? Or about the Murderers guards? I can’t help but think that it would be a bad idea for any Murderers inhabitant to have intimate details on those imprisoning them. But whatever they want, I know that they will not just let us walk out the door once they have it.

  “Where are the others?” Kyla asks the same question that has been nagging at my mind.

  I swallow hard, “I know Calder and Eaton are dead, I saw it myself. But I didn’t see Tegan after the fight started.” Could she still be alive? Maybe she fled once they attacked and is now roaming around the woods looking for us. I admit that the prospect of her wandering alone on Murderers is not the best situation, but I allow myself this hope since it is better than the alternative. Kyla looks defeated; I can almost physically see the hope leaving her.

  “Tegan may still be alive.” I say quietly, “And so are we. We can escape, make it back to the fence and force them to let us out. We can’t be that far away, we weren’t walking long before we were attacked.”

  Kyla just shakes her head, “And how would we manage that? We have no idea where we are, plus, you’re far to injured to walk.”

  I start to protest but Kyla cuts me off, “Brie, I know you are trying to hide it, but I can tell you are in pain. I bet you can’t even stand up right now.”

  I want to deny it, but I know she is right. Still, there is no way I am going to sit here until they kill me.

  “I have to try.” I give Kyla a pleading look, but she just laughs at me.

  “Good luck with that.” Her voice is harsh, “And don’t expect me to come carry you back when you get five steps out and realize you don’t have the strength to continue.”

  I ignore her, and, using the walls for support, slowly stand up. The pain is agonizing and my legs feel weak, but I am standing. Sensing Kyla watching, I take a few slow steps and manage to get out the door. The sun is blinding, and I squint to make out my surroundings while my eyes adjust. Like most of the island, where I am now is surrounded by trees and dense bushes. I have no idea where I am.

  I close my eyes and think. There must be something to show me where we came from. When I open my eyes, something catches my attention. A few leaves on a nearby bush have something red on them. Blood. Probably mine. Feeling triumphant, I head off in that direction. I haven’t taken more than a few steps when I hear a cold voice behind me.

  “Yeah, like I’m really just going to let you walk away after I went through so much trouble to bring you here.”

  I spin around to see the same dark haired boy who rescued me earlier. He is standing a few paces back; arms crossed over his chest, and is regarding me with a somewhat amused expression. He is wearing a black T-shirt with a strange symbol on the front. I give a fleeting look behind me, wondering if it is worth trying to escape. The boy sees my glance and raises an eyebrow.

  “I just said you’re not leaving.” He grabs my wrist and leads me back to the shelter. I attempt to wrench my arm out of his hand, but his grip is firm.

  “I can walk on my own, you know.” I snap at him.

  “Glad to hear it,” he replies without loosening his hold.

  “Who are you? Where are the others who were with me?”

  “I’m Flynn.” The boy answers, “As for the other girl that we saved along with you, I am assuming she is still in the hut…”

  “No, I mean the team I came with.”

  Flynn still doesn’t look back at me. “They’re dead,” He says matter-of -factly, “which I assumed you already knew.”

  “I only saw Calder and Eaton die, but there was another girl. She may be still alive.” I can hear the desperation in my own voice as I cling to this one hope.

  Flynn shakes his head, “No, unless she can survive multiple stab wounds to the heart and a slit throat, then I believe she is, in fact, dead.” His voice is bitter.

  My throat constricts. Maybe it’s better this way, I think, now I don’t have to worry about her getting captured.

  When we reach the door of the hut, Flynn releases my wrist. Kyla gives a startled yelp when she sees him, but Flynn ignores her.

  “What do you want with us?” I demand, “Why did you save us?” The pain and exhaustion from my small walk has caught up with me and I must grip the wall for support.

  Flynn looks at me, his face still expressionless. “You should probably sit down now.” He tells me.

  “I’m fine.” I snarl, glaring at him.

  He scoffs, “Yeah, you look it,” there is a hint of cold amusement in his voice, “you just got your stomach cut open so bad we thought you would probably die and you seem to have some severely bruised ribs, why wouldn’t you be fine? But unless you want to add weeks onto your healing time, I wouldn’t stay standing for too much longer.”

  I figure he is right so I slowly sink down to the floor. “Why did you rescue us?” I repeat.

  “Simple,” he says, “you are going to help get us out of here. You are going to help us escape Murderers.”

  “And why should we help you do that?” Kyla asks suspiciously.

  “Because,” Flynn says slowly, “if we get out alive, you do too.”

  “We?” I ask, “What do you mean if we get out alive, so do you? Who’s all coming with us?”

  “Myself and a friend,” Flynn answers steadily.

  I have to laugh at the word friend, how could anyone on Murderers have friends? Flynn gives me a dark look and then continues.

  “We will leave in a week. Ideally, your ribs should be given a few weeks to heal, but if anyone in my clan discovers you, then you’re dead and the longer we wait, the more likely that is to happen.”

  “We haven’t even agreed to help you,” Kyla protests.

  “I’m not giving you a choice,” Flynn replies in a smooth voice.

  He turns to leave. “I’ll be back later. Don’t try to escape again. Trust me; you don’t want to run into anyone here.” He sets down the bag he was carrying.

  “There are clothes in here; you will be safer if you aren’t wearing clothes from Innocents.” He says “Innocents” with disgust, as if it is a horrible disease. Then he walks out the door and disappears into the trees. When he is gone, I sift through the bag of clothes. It contains several T-shirts, all black and all sporting the same symbol I had seen on Flynn’s shirt. It is a circle with two lines through it, one vertical and the other horizontal, stitched roughly onto the front of the shirt. I vaguely recognize it from one of my history textbooks. It
is a symbol for death. I offer a shirt to Kyla, but she refuses.

  “I don’t want anything that once belonged to a Murderer,” she explains.

  I look down at my own shirt. It is torn and bloody, so I pull on one of the new ones. It fits well, and the fabric is surprisingly cool. It was probably sent here on a previous mission from Innocents. I lie back and allow myself to rest, although I don’t feel tired, sleep finds me immediately.