I drop George in reflex. He falls to the floor but I don’t have time to waste apologizing as I brandish the dagger in front of me. “You’re such a liar.”
She freezes. In the low light, her green eyes seem black.
“Millie, I swear I came down here to help you. I wasn’t lying about all that stuff I said. I left the village by myself to find you because I regret what happened.”
“Even if I believed you, which I don’t, your regret doesn’t erase what you did. I still hate you.”
She reaches for me, dropping the tray. “Millie, please—”
I spin her around so that my dagger is pressed against her throat. Flo stills in my grip. I swallow my guilt and hold her closer. “Get up, George. We have to get out of here before any more of them come. Can you run?”
He climbs to his feet and leans against the wall for support.
“I’ll try. What are you going to do with her?”
Flo’s entire body trembles against mine. I can feel her chest rise and fall rapidly, the rapid beat of her heart. She’s just as scared as I am. “I don’t know.”
We continue forward, Flo whimpering and George dragging himself along the wall. We’re moving slowly, too slowly, but I can’t risk letting Flo go. I pull her along with me, her body shuddering as we walk.
“Let me go, Millie,” Flo says. “I can help you. You won’t get out without me.”
“Shut up.” I press the dagger into her throat. “I don’t trust anything you say.”
“But I—”
“I said shut up!”
George looks at me, eyes wide, innocent, as he drags himself along the wall. We push forward, the living areas coming into view. The last time I was here, I was playing checkers with Flo.
I was so oblivious to what was just ahead, so foolish to believe the people here actually cared about me. I don’t want to hurt her. Just like Charles, part of me still loves her, but my brain knocks me straight. Flo pretended to be my best friend for years.
I confided in her. We spent hours upon hours together, laughing, crying, and telling stories. And she stood by and watched as Charles tried to kill me. What Flo did is worse than all the others combined. I wish I could hate her for it. I wish I could stop caring, but I can’t.
Shadows dance upon the wall as we move through the empty dining room. It looks strangely dark considering it must be day by now. I push the concern to the back of my mind and continue forward until we reach the entrance hall. “What time is it?” I ask.
“It’s midafternoon. But people aren’t around because they’re preparing for the ceremony.”
My heart hammers in my chest as we head down the hallway, toward the light of day. But when we reach it, my hope falls away—someone’s there, guarding the opening.
George skitters back the way we came. I hold Flo tighter.
“Make a sound and I’ll slit your throat.”
She gulps against the blade but doesn’t call my bluff.
“What’re we going to do?” George asks, frightened. “Find another exit?”
“There is no other exit.”
Ideas run through my mind, but not one of them gets us out of here. I spent every night in these tunnels before I left; I know them like the back of my hand. The entrance to the tunnel faces the forest, so we could easily slip into the trees if nobody was watching, but we have to find a way out first. Our only option is forward, but it’s blocked.
If I could somehow creep up behind the guard, maybe I’d have a chance of attacking him. But that means letting Flo go, and I’m not willing to risk that. Besides, he’s broad shouldered and a couple of heads taller than me—it doesn’t matter that I’ve been training, he’ll still be stronger than me.
I make sure Flo is tightly secured, then walk toward him, and pray with everything I have that he’s the only one guarding the entrance. George lingers a few steps behind, but when we’re a mere three steps away he stumbles and scuffs his feet across the ground. The man guarding the entrance goes rigid. He spins around, eyes sharp.
My heart drops. Part of me was hoping I wouldn’t know him, that he was some hollower from a village I’d never been to, but I’m not so lucky. Jack stands in front of me, a hunter a couple of years older than me, with dark hair and bright, blue eyes.
He glares at the dagger pressed against Flo’s throat. “How did you get out?”
“Don’t come any closer,” I warn. He pauses, head tilting as if wondering whether or not to believe me. “I’m serious. I’ll cut her throat.”
“I don’t believe you. You were always such a pushover.”
“Yeah? Well, turns out constantly being the target of murder changes a person.”
He steps closer. “You wouldn’t kill your best friend.”
“Ex–best friend.”
Flo lets out a yelp when I cut into her slightly, enough that blood trickles across my fingers. I feel a flash of nausea. I hadn’t meant to draw blood. “I’ll stop! I’ll stop!” Jack freezes and raises his hands in the air. “What do you want for her?”
“Put your machete on the ground.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” He doesn’t move. “Now!” The machete clatters to the ground and he steps back. I shoot George a look.
“George, pick his machete up.”
He hesitates. “I don’t know how to use it.”
“Just pick it up, George. Please, trust me.”
He hobbles forward, his eyes never leaving Jack as he tentatively picks up the machete and holds it with trembling hands.
“Great,” Jack says. “You’ve got the machete, now give me Flo.”
“I don’t think so. I want you to go down the tunnels, all the way to where I was tied up. If you make any noise, I’ll kill Flo.
Do you understand me?”
“How do I know you’re not bluffing?”
“Didn’t they tell you?” I swallow, forcing a sadistic smile to my face. “I killed Darius.”
I have to force myself to keep eye contact. But my words have the intended effect. Jack’s eyes flash and Flo, who had been squirming in my hands, falls still. “You coldhearted witch. He was a kid.”
I try to hide my flinch. “So was I, but that didn’t stop any of you.”
“You’re never going to get away, you know. Charles won’t stop, none of us will.”
I take Flo with me and step back. “Go down the tunnel. Now.”
He walks back, slowly, eyes on me until he’s around the corner.
But I don’t let myself relax. I spin around, grab George’s arm with my free hand, and pull both him and Flo forward.
“We need to get out of here.” I tug them toward the entrance.
“It won’t be long till he comes after us.”
The brightness outside momentarily blinds me, and from the way George covers his eyes with his hand, I know I’m not the only one. I blink frantically, half concealing myself behind the jutted metal. Rain pierces my skin like thousands of tiny knives. Flo’s red hair blows across my face but I swat it away. One hundred feet away, the forest waits. The temptation to peer around the corner presses at me, to see the vegetable patches and the kitchen shack, but I can’t risk being seen. The clearing between us and the trees is empty.
I glance at George. “Can you run?”
“I can try.”
I take the knife from Flo’s throat and spin her around to face me. Tears stain her cheeks. “You’re coming with us,” I say. “If you scream or try to run, I’ll hurt you. I’m serious.”
“I told you I want to help you.”
I look to George. “Run on three.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know. But we’re in this together.”
“What if they catch me? What if I’m not fast enough? What if—”
“I won’t leave you. Whatever happens, we’ll do it together, okay?” I turn and face the forest entrance again. “One, two—”
George stumbles ahead of me and I’m qui
ck to follow. The wind races through my hair and rain stabs at my skin, but we push forward, across the clearing to the trees. I imagine the village behind me, the familiar gardens, the kitchen shack, but I don’t turn around. I don’t think about Flo being dragged behind me or George stumbling ahead.
All my life I hid from the trees. The night and its shadows were my enemies. I feared the pink hue of the sunset.
Ravenous creatures haunted my nightmares, agonizing growls and blood-matted fur rattling my bones. My reality was distorted, twisted by a man who shaped my childhood, but I always knew monsters were real. Now I know that they can look human too.
Chapter Fifteen
Rain pelts my face. My fingers are numb as I drag Flo by the wrist through the trees, George lagging behind. Adrenaline helps me forward as the gray above claps with thunder. It’s me, Flo, and George. No Cassia to lead me through the night, or Elias to make decisions, or Eric to scowl at me. George relies on me, peering up at me with fear in his eyes as he waits for me to decide each turn we take. Flo stays silent. But I have no idea what I’m doing.
If the hollowers have noticed our absence, they haven’t found us, but it won’t be long before they do. The rain has muted my senses. If they were close, I wouldn’t hear or see them coming—yet another thing adding to the anxiety swelling inside me.
“Millie, please listen to me.” I ignore Flo and scan the clearing.
We’ve reached the bottom of a hill. Beside us, a cliff stretches high into the air. Boulders cluster at the bottom, the area sparser and not protected from the rain. I have no idea where we’re going or what to do, all I know is that we need to leave. Flo tugs my sleeve. “Millie—”
“I told you twenty minutes ago, and I’ll tell you again: I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”
“I’m trying to help you!”
“You’re trying to save yourself,” I hiss, backing her against a tree. “You don’t care about us. How long was George down there starving to death? You did nothing.”
“He’s a creature.”
“And you’re a hollower who betrays her friends. Who’s the real monster here, Flo?”
Her eyes water. “I care about you.”
“You’re such a liar.”
I let her go and she crumbles to the ground. “Are you going to kill me?”
“We don’t have time for this. Get up.”
She looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes. “I don’t want you to hate me.”
“You should’ve thought about that before you betrayed me. I said get up. I won’t ask again, Flo.”
She gets to her feet, movements sluggish and slow. Her hair looks like fresh blood where it sticks to her skin. “You should head in the other direction if you’re trying to get back to the creature village,” she says. “You’re heading the wrong way.”
“Why should I listen to a thing you say?”
“Because I loved you like a sister, I still do. It was supposed to be fake, but it never was.”
“Get this through your thick skull, Flo.” I stab her chest with my finger. “I hate you. I will always hate you. You mean nothing to me.”
She stumbles back. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.” I get so close to her that she has nowhere to look but me. “I hate what you did to me. I wish you were dead.”
The words tumble so quickly from my mouth it’s too late to take them back. Her lips part. Her skin is ivory, brown freckles across her nose a stark contrast. I step back, unable to look away from her as she stares speechless. Eventually, her eyes drift to the ground. I turn and shut my eyes. I can feel George’s heated gaze on me. What am I doing? What did I just say?
A scream bounces between the trees. I turn and look at George. “They’re here.”
“What do we do?”
I frantically search the clearing for an idea but come up empty.
Flo steps forward and grabs my wrist. “Follow me.”
“Let me go!”
She doesn’t, and my knife falls from my fingers as she shoves me toward the boulders, grabbing George and pushing him after me. He falls into my arms and I tug him to my chest as I press against the rock face, scanning the direction the scream came from. I’m seconds away from sprinting in the opposite direction when Flo suddenly screams at the top of her lungs.
I press myself against the rock, the rain sharp without the protection of the trees. George pulls himself up so he can see through the gaps between the two boulders. Seconds later, four hollowers burst into the clearing, panting and gasping.
“Flo!” One of them takes her as she slumps to the ground.
“Flo, what happened? Are you okay?”
“She tried to kill me,” Flo sobs. “I was so scared.”
“It’s okay, where did they go?”
“That way.” She points them in the opposite direction to where we’re standing. “Quick, go fast, they’re trying to get back to the village.”
Three of them immediately dash in the direction she points, but one lingers behind, a hand on Flo’s shoulder. Her eyes move past and I press myself hard against the rock face, but she doesn’t see us. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” She pulls Flo closer. “I thought something—I thought she might’ve hurt you.”
Flo buries her face in her chest and I have to look away. I’ve never seen this guard before, but the way she looks at Flo is so tender. And even though it’s foolish, my chest feels hollow. We did everything together growing up—there wasn’t one thing she didn’t know about me and I thought I knew everything about her. But now, we have two different worlds; we care about different people. Flo has a different life and I’m not part of it.
And no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, it hurts.
George starts slipping between the boulders, grazing his arms against their hard surface. A scream escapes his mouth—it doesn’t go unnoticed. “What was that?”
“What?” Flo’s voice shakes. “I didn’t hear anything.”
Footsteps approach. I see her before she sees me, peeking through the gap between the two boulders. Without a second thought, I slam my elbow into her nose. She groans, staggering back with a cry. “They’re here! They’re—”
I sling George’s arm over my shoulders and wrap mine around his waist, and we stagger along the cliff face. My cheeks sting with the force of the rain, but I don’t stop, and I don’t retreat to the trees. “I’m sorry,” George cries. “I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay,” I say and focus on moving faster, the muscles in my arms protesting. “We just have to keep going.”
Shouts surround us. I can’t tell if they’re coming from in front or behind, all I can do is continue forward and pray that it’s the latter. But my prayers aren’t answered. We skid to a stop when two men intercept our path, standing against the cliff face wearing villainous grins. I turn us around before they can come after us, but my attempts at escape are futile—more hollowers stand behind us now as well, a group lurking by the boulders and another at the edge of the trees. Defeat sinks my heart like an anchor. We’re surrounded.
“Where are you going to run to, wisper?” I recognize the man who steps forward from the shadows. It’s the man from the forest, the one who’d grappled at my arms before I punched him in the face. “That’s right. You have nowhere to go.”
My entire body trembles as they close in on us. I struggle against their hold when they grab at me, trying to free my elbow so I can slam it into one of their faces, but three of them restrain my arms behind me. A woman picks up George and snaps his wrist like it’s nothing more than a twig. He releases an agonizing roar. His back arches, bones protruding through his skin.
“Stop! What’re you doing?”
A mouth presses against my ear, breath hot. “Stop struggling or it’ll be his leg next.” I fall still as George rolls around on the ground, clutching his arm to his chest. I cry as the woman drags him to his feet and forcibly restrains his broken wrist behind his ba
ck. “Good,” she says. “A lot of people are waiting on you; it’d be rude to keep them waiting for long.”
A sharp pain laces my head as a hand buries itself in my hair and jolts me forward; another hollower drags a groaning George behind as we’re pulled around the corner. We’re led around the cliff face and into a crevice where two cliffs face each other. My heart drops when we come to a stop in front of a figure concealed by shadows. Charles steps forward, gray hair plastered to his forehead and clothes stuck to his skin.
His eyes meet mine and he sighs. “I thought after we spoke you might be more willing to go along with this, considering what’s at stake.”
George whimpers beside me. “You obviously don’t know me at all, then,” I say.
“You didn’t think we would let you go, did you?” My vision blurs, but I won’t cry for Charles; I won’t let him get to me, not now, when everything is falling apart. If I’m going to die, I’m not going to give him the satisfaction.
Charles looks over at George on the ground. “What happened to the creature?”
The woman scoffs and kicks him in the stomach. “Broke his wrist.”
“We don’t need him anyway.” Charles nods at the woman.
“Dispose of him.”
“Stop!” The woman picks up a screaming George by his hair and presses her machete against his throat. “What are you doing?” The more I struggle the deeper my captor’s nails dig.
“You need him—for the sacrifice!”
“No,” Charles says, “we don’t.”
She slices the machete across George’s throat. My scream ricochets off the cliff face like a birdcall. Blood gurgles in the back of his throat, and then his body falls limp. The world screams in horror and my knees go weak. The only thing that keeps me off the ground are the arms wrapped tight around my waist. The woman carelessly drags George’s limp body across the ground behind her, his blood leaving a trail behind him like red paint on white paper.
“You’re a monster.” I glare at Charles, trembling. “The man who raised me wouldn’t murder a kid.”
“The man who raised you wouldn’t murder a kid worthy of living.” Charles is unapologetic. His lips rise to a scowl as if the blood trail on the ground is a nuisance. “He’s a creature. I did him a favor.”
Creatures of the Night Page 20
