by Katie Cross
Because these men might be massive, but I was pissed. Not just about Ellie's safety and their betrayal, but about everything. About my fellow soldier Trixie dying in my arms. About endless fear. Scratching out survival and a weird return home.
And I was ready to let it out.
Kimball shoved me into a circle of stones that clearly outlined a fighting ring. Two of the burly men sat on the ground off to the side, chests shiny with sweat. One of them was Steve. He glared at me through a split lip and a swollen left eye. His shoulders heaved up and down. Dust lingered around the edge of his nose and on his upper lip. Five yards away sat another beast of a man, his face scarred by what looked like fire. On the other side of the ring was the first fighter, Joe. His head lolled around on his neck while a smaller man slapped him and shouted in his ear.
And the anger grew inside me with every passing second.
"Where's Ellie?" I cried. Maybe she’d hear me and know I was awake. Kimball snorted but stayed out of arm’s reach. I swayed on my feet but tried to hide it by stepping to the side.
"Your girl is safe, don't worry. She's ready to be the honored prize. If the Creator will allow it, of course. He has in the past, as long as he gets them first."
The rat of a man that stood next to Kimball snickered. I vowed to get my hands on him, but held myself back for now. Functionality slowly returned to my limbs. My muscles. I felt my body reorient within itself, and my stomach settle.
Safe, Kimball had said.
But his eyes had darted to the cabin.
Take my distraction, I silently begged her. Take it and run.
I studied the two fighters on the other side of the ring while the throbbing in my head eased off a little. They still looked amped up. Their eyes were bloodshot. Were their pulses fast? I couldn't tell in the shadows. Looked like they were hopped up on something. Cocaine, if the dust on their noses meant anything. That definitely changed my odds.
"Here's the deal," Kimball said to me with a careless wave of his hand. "We love a good match, you know? And, frankly, Collin's boy Joe was no match for Steve or Rick." Kimball gestured to the man with the burned face when he said Rick. "But Joe might be a match for you. So I'll make you a deal."
Kimball stood with his hands on his hips now, a superior expression on his face. Clearly, he enjoyed the power of a spotlight. Perhaps a bit too much. Every eye was riveted on him. Just to make sure of that, I shifted to the side. All their eyes caught mine next. Seconds later, a gentle, slight rustling sound came from the cabin.
"What's your deal?" I asked.
My voice rang through the night—too loud for how close they were—but no one turned a suspicious eye to the cabin.
Kimball studied me, then gestured to the trees. "Win against Joe and you go free."
"And if I don't?"
Kimball shrugged. "Dunno. He'll probably kill you. If he doesn't, we won't be taking you home. So you’ll have to figure it out from there."
"Different proposal," I countered. "I win, Ellie goes free."
"If you lose?"
"I won't."
Kimball laughed. On the other side of the ring, Joe rose back to his feet. Next to him, the smaller man named Collins hissed like a snake, indecipherable. The crack of the bonfire created too much noise for me to hear words, but the bright gleam of Joe's eyes meant he thought I didn't have a chance. Even with his groggy steps and struggle to stay conscious.
Maybe that rat-like little man was right.
Maybe I didn't have a chance against Joe. Joe who already glistened with sweat and blood. Joe who weighed at least fifty pounds more than me and had shoulders like a tree. His eyes held that same bright, stiff expression, like he'd snorted something. Fists like his could topple a brick wall. Their whack on my head when we first arrived made certain I wasn't in great shape either. When I didn't have a walloping headache that could be a head injury, I'd barely have a chance with this guy.
But my anger was back—and it was ready.
Ready to throw fists. Ready to vent the building aggression that had been simmering under the surface since I hit American soil again. A life or death situation would be the excuse I needed to vent the truth that haunted me every night.
I shouldn't have survived.
The guy with the scarred face looked as if he were going to protest my new terms, but Kimball spoke before he could.
"Fine. Ellie goes free."
Kimball lied—he'd no sooner set Ellie free than he'd let me live. All of this was sport, and he'd probably try to kill me by the end of it. The back-and-forth was only an attempt to buy time for her to get away undetected. But when I did beat Kimball's meathead slave, then they'd all be scared. I'd have the upper hand. Frightened men made terrible decisions, and that might be the only edge I needed in order to get us out of here.
No further sounds issued from the cabin, which hopefully meant she'd cleared it and was on her way out. I needed to stall more, because I didn't know if Kimball would follow her or not.
How badly did they want their prize?
I had to assume they'd follow.
Although I had no idea what they'd done to her—if they tied her up or knocked her out or drugged her—I felt in my bones that she'd get away. She'd fight, somehow. The cat-like young girl that had flown into a rage against her step-father and choked him to unconsciousness to save her sister's life flashed back through my mind.
Ellie would fight.
And she better get out of here.
"Step up to the circle, Joe," Kimball cried, but he backed out of reach like a frightened cat as Joe advanced. Warily, I watched Joe's every step. He walked heavy-footed, but certain. I’d guess he would be slow to pivot, but he'd punch hard.
A flood of uncertainty filled me when he stopped a few steps away. His too-long stare trained on me, but I couldn't tell if he saw me or not. Was he with it? One of his cheekbones had taken a hit, the top skin scraped off to reveal a bright red underlayer. A purplish bruise bubbled up from underneath. The same gentle dusting of powder showed around his nostrils.
I shoved my lacking confidence back and shook my head, the pungent smell of lighter fluid filling in my nose. Whatever drug they'd given these men, I had to hope it slowed them down, because my only tactical advantage here was speed. Adrenalin rocketed around my veins in anticipation of the fight and alleviated my headache. I honed in on Joe, who tilted to the side and caught himself just before he fell.
Maybe this would be simple.
Then Joe let out a bellow like a livid ape. Blood vessels popped out on his forehead when he bent at the waist, flexed his arms, and charged at me like a bull.
And suddenly, I knew we were utterly screwed.
15
Ellie
The sound of flesh hitting flesh made me choke.
Frantic, I tripped over my own feet for the tenth time and barely kept from jostling a bush. Blood freckled my hands and wrists. I'd narrowly missed cutting an artery as I sawed through the ropes to freedom. Smears of crimson decorated the lighter fluid container that I'd been clutching for the last sixty seconds. Sneaking out the back window had been treacherous. The entire cabin threatened to pitch over with any jostle. Thanks to Devin's loud conversation with Kimball, I freed myself without drawing suspicion.
Now, I had mere seconds to save Devin's life.
He looked pale and fierce as he engaged in the ring with the monster of a man that ran at him. Winces occasionally crossed Dev’s face. Headache, I'd bet. Traces of vomit lingered on his shirt. He held up for now, but he wouldn't make it long. Nor would he survive any attack from Joe for much longer.
The deep bellow of Joe slamming into Devin for a second time rang through the canyon, setting fire to my fear.
I hastily squirted the last of the lighter fluid around the dark edge of the firelight. Kimball and his minions had been sufficiently distracted, and they didn't notice me circling them. Didn't seem to smell the lighter fluid or hear the hiss of it escaping the bottle. Nor th
e crunch of my feet on dried pine needles as I passed.
A guttural sound from Devin pushed me to ignore the pain in my leg as I stumbled over another rock. I crouched on the other side of the bonfire. Fortunately, these men were idiots. They hadn't even checked on me, and they all clustered in the same space on the other side of the fire. No one would see me back here.
Devin ducked a blow to the face, then drove a fist into Joe's stomach. Joe gasped, his heavy body carrying him to the ground before he could right himself. Devin shoved a knee into Joe's neck as he fell.
I forced myself to look away.
Sweat broke out on my forehead as I crawled to the fire. My fingers burned from trace amounts of lighter fluid which seeped into the cuts from the broken beer bottle shard. With a rock from nearby, I nudged a piece of wood out of the fire. Two fist-size lengths of it stuck out, untouched by the flames so far. I yanked it free. Bright orange ashes flared in the sky like discarded glitter.
Dreams of walking up to Kimball and setting him on fire clouded my mind for only a moment before Joe let out a cry of pain and jolted me out of them.
Time to end this.
I drew the stick close, studied the white-hot center for only a second, then turned and slammed it onto the dry pine needles where I'd just emptied the last of the lighter fluid.
Fire shot out of the bracken and raced through the darkness in a quick, fast line. The dried leaves underneath the continuous circle of lighter fluid illuminated hot flames. Yellow light filled the air in a bright blaze. A cry of surprise came from the cluster of men not far away.
Blinded, Joe turned away, arms thrown over his face.
Devin paused, looked around him, then turned toward the cabin. The flash of brightness seemed to stun him. A bruise already started to form on his left cheekbone. I bounded across the space, grabbed his arm, and tugged him away. He followed, stumbling over the line of fire.
"Follow me!" I cried quietly.
Behind us, Kimball screamed. Fire leapt out of the ground at his feet, where I'd silently squired extra lighter fluid as I made the circle. His two scrawny friends darted around, attempting to extinguish the fire on their shoes. Twigs and bracken illuminated to a bright orange as the greedy flames sped quickly through the dry understory of the forest and toward the cabin. Within moments, the entire fighting circle was nearly consumed. Flames already worked their way to the outside of the cabin and climbed up the side of the dry, aged wood.
Devin glanced back. In the firelight, I could just make out his wordless question.
"What—"
"Later!"
He stumbled over a rock. I tugged him upright again and threw his arm around my shoulders. He sagged against me a little when I wrapped an arm around his back. "We need to get out of here, now. Hang on, Dev. We've got this."
We plunged into the darkness.
Tree branches whipped at my face as I pushed through clusters of trees that would take us down the canyon, away from the fire and the rocky canyon walls. If we didn't move quickly, that fire might end up being the very thing that killed us. With any luck, it would take out or at least distract all those idiots.
Devin followed with only a few grunts here and there. His steps were uncertain, but he moved faster than I expected. He leaned on me more than he probably realized and sometimes he mumbled unintelligibly. But he didn't make much noise, and his legs kept moving.
"Stay with me, Dev," I panted as we pushed out of a particularly dense cluster of trees. Moonlight overhead remained minimal, but enough to give me a vague direction of where to go. If we stayed at the bottom of the canyon, we'd make better time. If the fire caught up with us, we'd have to scramble up into the scree fields.
"Ellie," Devin said.
"Yes."
"You're here."
His tone was a statement, as if he said it to make it real. An unusual sort of haze, almost like he was in another place, had overcome his expression. I held onto his wrist and tightened my hold around his back. The fast staccato of his heartbeat against my fingertips.
"I'm here, Dev. I'll always be here, now."
"Ellie. Here. You're real?"
He reached out with a shaky hand and I paused. The moment his fingertips touched my face, he sucked in a sharp breath.
"You're not afraid," he whispered. "You're not saying goodbye?"
"Never."
Something in my fierce whisper seemed to bring him back to himself. He blinked several times, then shook his head. His gaze darted around, encompassed the night, then dropped to his left shoulder. The fingers on that arm opened and closed.
"Dev?"
"I'm okay." It came out firm. "Sorry, I . . ."
"You okay? Does your head hurt?"
"Fine." He swallowed and shook his head again. A grimace crossed his face, but the haziness left his gaze. "Yeah. It hurts. I'm fine. You're brilliant. You . . . the fire?"
"Yeah."
"Let's keep going."
I steered us toward the old creek bed. Spindly bushes, dry and cracked from the heat, loomed on either side of us. Rocks littered what used to be the stream, but held no water now. It would be easier to navigate in the moonlight than the bracken, at least until the canyon walls opened up. When I glanced back, light from the fire brightened the rock walls in the canyon. It had to be spreading.
Stupid, I thought. My plan had been desperate and stupid. This place would go up like a tinderbox . . . but a fire like that would also get resources here fast. If Neils were still in the area, he'd see the flames and investigate. He'd have a radio to report it, too. At least, that's what I told myself. The thought of burning up my own forest was too much to think about.
Devin, I thought. Think about home.
With a deep breath, I forced my thoughts back to the moment. Relief that we'd gotten away gave me a moment of hope, but there was no time to mull over the victory. We had a fire and six drug-addled pursuers to evade. With any luck, Kimball had caught on fire or his shoes had been destroyed. The others would be disoriented, at best. Maybe they'd even try to put the fire out, or just get away. Whatever they did, scattering seemed most likely.
And that gave us a chance.
"Dev," I said through a heavy breath. "We're going to get out of here, okay?"
"Got it."
"That's our sole focus right now. We need to get out of this canyon in case the fire spreads. If we cut back to the south once we're out, there's a creek with water and a trail that we can follow down the mountain. We'll be miles from the car and I have no idea where my pack ended up, but at least we can get onto an open road. It'll be safer to walk near it. Maybe we can flag someone down."
He nodded vaguely, and somehow I could tell that he attempted to work it out in his mind. With every step, he grimaced. His body had to ache after the battering ram of a man slammed into him several times. How he'd held his own, I'd never know. A trickle of blood appeared at the end of his nostril, staining the skin red.
The sound of my plan in the night comforted me, so I kept speaking. "We'll take a break in a little bit, okay? I think we can get out of this in forty-five minutes if we push hard. Once we're on the other side of that stream, we can relax for a little bit."
"I'm with you, E."
Despite my terror, my heart thrilled. The voice, the nickname, the words. All of them were from my Devin. I pushed away every other thought. Ignored the possibility that Kimball could be on our heels. Of what they'd do to me if they found me, because I'd made sure that the spot where they'd dropped their precious bricks of pixie dust had also gone up in flames. Devin was in no position to stand against them again.
Instead, I focused on us moving through the forest.
Together.
Moonlight hung overhead as we hobbled through the woods. Time seemed to pass in weird stretches.
The farther we moved south from the canyon, the stranger the night seemed. Darkness loomed everywhere. Branches caught my hair. The hoot of an owl and the shuffle of feathers sounded o
verhead. I did my best to ignore all of it and focus on our goal, but we slowed when the distance out of the canyon was greater than expected. Mountains had always been tricky. Tonight, they were downright deadly.
By the time we shuffled free of the looming rock walls, I almost collapsed.
When I turned back, a dancing light lingered in the black smudge of the forest. The fire seemed to have calmed. The still night without a hint of wind, and the cool moisture palpable on my skin, worked in our favor. The heat faded enough at night that I doubted the fire would advance now. Neils would have time to phone it in. Likely, they'd get a smokejumper crew out here if it flared back up.
My body ached with fatigue. Devin's weight on mine felt greater with every passing moment, but I forced myself to stay upright.
"We need to turn south," I whispered. "I'm not really sure where we are, but I have a good idea of where we'll end up. There should be a creek eventually. We're not safe here. If we fall asleep and the fire advances, we'll be right in its path."
Bleary-eyed in the moonlight, he nodded, his face drawn. No doubt his headache persisted, and I feared the depths of his injury. His arm tightened around my shoulder again. Ever since he'd returned out of his weird haze, he'd fallen quiet. But he hadn't let me out of his reach. I tightened my hold around his waist.
More slowly this time, we turned to the south.
Trees and a few rolling, gentle ridges made movement easier than the clogged brambles of the canyon. We moved more quickly without all the rocks. Knee-high grass swished against our legs as we walked from moonlit-spot to moonlit-spot. My mind blurred with the movement of my legs until my thoughts resembled a rocky crag instead of a meandering trail. I didn't recognize that we'd arrived at a creek until I heard the splash of my foot in the water.
Both of us stopped, startled.
Moonlight glinted off the top of the creek as it rushed by. At least fifteen feet across, it cut down the mountain in a hearty artery that should lead to the reservoir at Pineville. The comforting sound of tinkling water wiped away the unnerving silence. How long had we been walking? My gut told me it was well past midnight, maybe 2:00 am. That meant almost five to six hours. The darkness gave me no idea where we were, or how far we'd gone.
