by M A Roth
I wanted to scream at him to calm down, but Nicolas beat me to it. “If you don’t stop, I will make you stop.” Nicolas spoke low and threatening, but he only made it worse, as I knew he would.
Men started to enter the dome. They all looked identical in build, and they wore the same cowboy outfit, each fitted with a whip. Their heads were shaved, eyes all watching us. They had the same noses, but the most unsettling part was that they had no mouths. They moved around us until they formed a circle.
“Nicolas?” I questioned as we moved together.
“It’s Blake’s fear,” he answered.
When I looked at Blake as he moved close to us, I could practically see the fear pour off him. This was like my zombies: it wasn’t real. One of the men hit the ground hard with the whip. The sound of it snapping had me jumping. It sounded real, they looked real. “Can’t you do your vanishing thing?” I said to Nicolas. He had thrown us off a building.
“With three of us?” His sarcasm wasn’t lost on me, and I had the most selfish thought ever: we could leave Blake behind. I didn’t voice it, but glanced at Nicolas, who looked at me as if he could see it written on my face.
“Wow. You are a piece of work.”
Was I really that transparent? “What?” I asked, but more of the men were cracking their whips, moving one step closer.
Blake was hyperventilating. Telling him to calm down was impossible, my own panic kicking in as they took a step closer. “Nicolas?” I said, louder this time.
“I’m thinking, Abigail!”
“Think faster,” I said as one of the whips nearly got me. “It isn’t real, Blake,” I said praying that it might penetrate his fear. His eyes flickered to me as we turned in a full three sixty degrees, it made me dizzy seeing the same face everywhere I looked. The next whip struck my thigh tearing my trousers, fresh blood welled up, Blake’s eyes seemed transfixed on the blood. Before he looked at me. “You’re bleeding” It stung like a thousand papercuts. Nicolas glanced at me and Blake, we were all nearly back to back now. My own panic was rising and I did what I thought was best. I pushed Blake and he hit the ground hard, the men and sand dissolved around us and we now stood outside again. The Dragon’s fire nearly burning us to a crisp—but for Nicolas’s fast thinking. A wall of ice met a wall of fire. The sound was deafening, but it kept us alive.
I shook Blake, trying to wake him up. I wasn’t sure which scenario was worse; the one we walked out of, or this. “Wake up, Blake!” I screamed, shaking him.
“Get him out of here. I can’t hold out much longer.” I could see the strain on Nicolas’s face, and I looked at Blake. I would never make it with him, but I could save myself. I took a step away from him and glanced at Nicolas.
“Don’t, Abigail, he will die!” Guilt gnawed at my stomach, but so did self-preservation. “Please,” Nicolas said at my hesitation.
I cursed before going back to Blake and trying to get him off the ground. He weighed a ton. I got my hands under his arms and pulled him a bit at a time. Nicolas moved back with us. The dragon circled back up into the air, giving us a moment. Nicolas was whiter than I had ever seen him. He gave me a look of disgust before grabbing Blake by the arm. I took the other. We moved at a faster pace this time, but not fast enough.
The dragon was roaring soaring down from the sky towards us, its wingspan on full display. There was something magnificent about it. Its blood red eyes never left us as it stopped.
“Dive,” I screamed, letting Blake go. Nicolas dropped to the ground as the dragon’s talons missed us, taking chunks out of the pavement. I swallowed. That could have been us. He came again, quicker this time.
Nicolas was up, spears of ice leaving his hands in seconds. Several pierced the dragon; it only seemed to piss him off, not slow him down. He roared, releasing a stream of fire that looked like pouring lava. Once again, Nicolas created a wall of ice that kept rebuilding itself as it melted. When the dragon’s stream ended, it turned to me, and Blake, who still lay on the ground.
I did what any sane person would do: I ran. There was no way I was fit to get Blake out of there. I looked over my shoulder as the dragon barrelled down on Blake’s still form. Nicolas got up and raced to Blake, but I could see that he would never reach him.
The dragon’s talons pierced Blake’s body. A scream tore through the air, one that tightened my stomach with guilt. I reached a building, going behind the wall, taking deep breaths. Blake continued to scream in agony as the dragon tore him apart. His screams stopped, and I held my breath, then counted to thirty before looking around the wall.
Nicolas stood where a pool of blood stained the ground. No dragon, no Blake. Guilt gnawed at me, but as Nicolas looked at me, I felt ashamed for leaving Blake. I looked away from Nicolas. Anyone else would have done the same, I told myself.
“We need to leave,” Nicolas said, beside me now.
Any chance of escape was long gone. I took a step and nearly tumbled to the ground. My leg was still bleeding. I had forgotten about it. Now the pain came alive, and like always, I welcomed the pain. It was a great distraction from all my other feelings. Nicolas didn’t offer to heal it. I wouldn’t have accepted his healing anyway; I needed to feel just the pain.
We didn’t speak as we made our way out of the city without any problems. I wondered why had the dragon given up. I would ask Nicolas later, but right now wasn’t a good time. Dark circles had started to form under his eyes, and he looked like a man that hadn’t slept in a long time. He walked stiffly, and I wondered if he had been hurt, but I didn’t dare ask.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The city was now behind us; nothing but empty buildings stood in front of us. Wildlife had taken over this part of the city. Trees grew inside the houses and burst out through ceilings and walls. I found myself walking close to Nicolas, knowing just because they looked empty didn’t mean they were. Nicolas veered off the road we had been walking on since we’d left the city and headed towards an alleyway that ran between two buildings.
“Where are we going?” I whispered. He didn’t answer, but he moved carefully down the alleyway, glancing around constantly.
“Nic, you better not be bringing trouble my way?” I couldn’t see where the female voice was coming from.
Nicolas was smiling now, a genuine smile. “Is that how you are going to greet me?” he said. I looked around again, but couldn’t see anyone. Trees dropped close to us, white flowers blooming. They looked like they were reaching out to us. I found myself reaching back.
“I wouldn’t do that, love, they’re poisonous.” I snapped my hand back and looked at the woman who now stood beside us. She was in her late sixties. Her wrinkled face told her age; the rest of her was a lot younger. She wore tight clothes and had muscles on every part of her body. Her hair was chopped short close to her head. And from what I could count, she definitely had six earrings along both ears. Her eyes were vibrant green, and so full of life. She reached out her hand. “Sandy’s the name. And all the plants here are poisonous.” she glanced at Nicolas. “Did Romeo not tell you that?”
I took her hand in mine, liking her already. “No, I think he was hoping for me to touch them. He’s not a Romeo with me.”
She smiled. “I’m surprised; you’re are a looker.”
Her compliment was nice, but Nicolas crushed it with his words. “She isn’t so nice on the inside,” he said.
I felt the shame again. My hand went to my leg, and I squeezed the side of it, close to the cut, causing the pain to ignite, along with blood. I didn’t intend for the blood to happen.
It was Sandy who saw it dripping on the ground. “We need to look at that leg.” She moved to help me walk, but I waved her off.
“I’m fine. I don’t need help.”
She nodded before turning to Nicolas. This time, she crushed him in a hug, and he hugged her back. I stood awkwardly as they continued to embrace. When they finally came apart, they smiled at each other, Sandy’s hand patting his face. “You look
more like your father every time I see you.” Sadness filled her eyes, and she kissed Nicolas on the cheek.
She loved him like a son. I could see it in her eyes. I wondered if it made him think of his own mother. It made me think of mine, and how I had let the opportunity of finding her slip through my fingers. We still weren’t far from the city, and tomorrow was another day. Once I got my leg fixed up, and some rest and food, I would sneak out once night had fallen and find her.
We entered a run-down apartment block. Dirt and litter were scattered all over the floor and stairs that we climbed. The elevator stopped at each level. The red light above it was bright. Once we had climbed five floors, I wondered why we didn’t use the elevator. I was too breathless to ask. I could think of a few reasons, like that perhaps the elevator brought you somewhere else entirely. Or you just died. Everything here seemed to end in misery.
We stopped on floor seven. Every door we passed was either hanging off its hinges, boarded up with wood, or not there at all. I could have spotted Sandy’s apartment a mile away. It was the one with the shiny steel door, and it was a beacon. It was like a rich kid driving his new BMW into a rough area and expecting to make it out the other side.
“Welcome to my home.” Sandy opened the door and we walked into a large open plan sitting/kitchen area that also held a gym. The place looked great. But then she left me and Nicolas alone.
We didn’t speak to each other. He sat down, while I stood close to the door, feeling just a bit awkward. Sandy entered the room carrying a First Aid kit and pointed at a kitchen chair. “Sit,” she said, while sitting beside me. She didn’t remark on how quiet me and Nicolas were, or the tension in the room. I knew she noticed she glanced at Nicolas several times, who sat still as stone with his eyes closed.
He wasn’t sleeping, as his un-gloved hands created a small ball of ice; he passed it from one hand to the other.
Sandy opened several small packages and placed them beside her on the table. “So, you want to tell me how you got hurt?” Her question was simple, and she made it sound like a fun exercise, but I knew it was more.
I was aware that Nicolas wasn’t passing the ball from one hand to another anymore; he was listening.
The liquid she put on my leg stung, and I wanted to yank my leg back. I would have, but Sandy had a tight grip on it. At my hiss, she looked at me. “Sorry, but the pants need to come off. I have shorts you can get into.”
“I’m going for a walk,” Nicolas announced.
“Don’t leave on my behalf.” I stood up to leave. Sandy stood too, but she hadn’t moved.
Nicolas had reached the door, but stopped when I spoke. “Fine. You want to talk, talk.” His voice was cold.
“I never said anything about...”
He cut me off, moving towards me as he spat out his next words. “You let Blake die. You would have several times; only for the fact that I pleaded with you.” He had reached me now, his voice nearly in a whisper. “You are wondering, does it make you a bad person?”
I swallowed, not wanting to hear any more.
“Yes, Abigail, you are a bad person.” He turned stiffly and left the apartment, slamming the door behind him.
I was frozen for a second. “I didn’t want to talk about it,” I said to no one.
“I’ve never seen him so angry.”
“I have quite an effect on him,” I said.
“Yeah, you do.” I could hear the bit in Sandy’s words.
Once I changed, Sandy cleaned my leg, not saying a word, and then gave me a sandwich before leaving the room.
I hated being alone with my thoughts. I poached around the room; nothing special came to my attention. Nicolas returned, bringing a cold draft with him. He didn’t as much as glance at me as he walked through the room. I could hear him talk with Sandy in the next room, but I couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, and I wasn’t bothered to listen in. Right now, I closed my eyes and pictured my mom. Soon I would find her. I smiled at the thought.
“What has you smiling?” My moment was smashed at Nicolas’s words.
I got up off the couch without meeting his eyes. “I’m tired. Where do I sleep?” I asked, really hoping it was the couch.
“Here on the couch. I’m sorry, but I have only one room.”
Just as I had hoped, but where the hell would Nicolas be. I didn’t answer, hoping she would elaborate on the sleeping arrangements, but she didn’t, and I wasn’t about to ask.
The night dragged. I sat silently and plotted my escape. I saw a backpack when I was searching in the room. I would take some food, and water with me. I had also helped myself to two sets of dark, clean clothes, and all was in the bag hidden behind the couch. Sandy had given me another fresh set of clothes, and I got dressed into them. The only thing I wasn’t wearing was my boots. I couldn’t exactly sleep in them. A little too obvious. I left them close to the door; I would carry them along with backpack when I left.
“You’re very quiet.” It was Sandy who spoke. I knew Nicolas was listening.
“Rough day,” I answered. I glanced at Nicolas. I don’t know why—maybe to see the disapproval in his eyes, which now met my own.
Sandy patted my leg, making me jerk. It wasn’t the leg I had cut. I just didn’t like the contact. She held up her hands. “Just saying goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” I said back, shifting on the couch. She left the room, but returned only a moment later, holding two blankets that she laid down beside me. “One for each of you. Sorry I have nothing warming.”
“Sandy, you have been too kind. I appreciate it,” Nicolas answered. Sandy patted his face before kissing him on the forehead, and then she left the room.
“I can take the floor,” I said, hoping he would agree.
“No, I will.”
I felt some part of relief as I lay on the couch, pulling the blanket over me. At least he still had some respect for me. He didn’t hate me altogether. I had left his blanket on the floor, where I could now hear him lie down. This was going to be hard, getting out of here without waking him up. We didn’t say goodnight to each other, and I couldn’t even hear him breathe. My heart beat erratically at the thoughts of getting caught. I wondered if he could hear it. If he could, he didn’t show any signs.
Three hours of lying stiffly and listening to every creak: that’s how long I had lain there. Now I crept down the stairs with my boots and bag in hand. I had taken one final look at Nicolas before I left; he actually looked peaceful when he slept. I could also appreciate how good-looking he was when he wasn’t trying to kill or control me.
I made it outside into the dark night. Slipping on my boots, I tied them tightly and slung the bag across my back. My dark clothes helped me blend in with the night. I made sure to stay away from all flowers, trees, and bushes; anything, really, in case they were poisonous.
I walked in the middle of the road. Not as much as a cricket sounded, making my boots seem heavy and loud on the asphalt. I had also slipped a kitchen knife into my bag. I was not sure if it would do much good here, but I wasn’t taking any changes.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I got about ten blocks away from the apartment before trouble found me. A group of regular-looking guys approached me from my right. “Hi there, pretty lady,” said a guy with the worst case of acne I have ever seen, smiling. His three buddies fanned out around him.
“Hi,” I replied, but kept walking quickly, hoping I could just walk past.
Acne-face stood in front of me. “What’s the rush?”
He smiled again, and I kept my gaze on all of them. One had moved slightly out from the others. “I’m meeting someone,” I said. I noticed the guy who was away from the rest had a slight limp as he tried to circle behind me. “I don’t want any trouble,” I spoke to Acne-face, as he was the leader.
He laughed. “If you didn’t want any trouble, pretty lady, you shouldn’t be out here alone.”
I tried to move past him. But he pushed me back into the waitin
g arms of Limpy. “I’m not alone.” I tried to keep the fear out of my voice, but failed.
“She’s afraid, Catch,” a younger guy with a green peaky cap said to Acne-face. But Catch was glancing around at all the buildings.
“Show yourself,” he shouted. Silence fell on us for a few moments before Catch returned his stare to me. “I don’t see anyone.” His smile widened. His hand raised to touch my face, which I hit away. His smile fell. “Don’t be like that. You being out here, you are just asking for it.” His smile was back as he looked at his crew. “Isn’t that right, boys? Doesn’t she look like she just wants me to do bad things to her?” They all laughed now.
“If you touch me...” I didn’t get to finish as the guy behind me ran his hand along my arm. I swung around.
Catch grabbed me from behind now. “What will you do? Scream? I love when they scream,” he whispered in my ear.
“My friend will kill you,” I said as I tried to pull myself out of his grasp.
“Who’s your friend?”
“Nicolas Frost.”
They all seemed to freeze. That was what I’d been hoping for. Catch let me go. “You’re lying,” he said, but he didn’t sound so sure.
I held my shoulders back. “He will freeze your balls off if you touch me.” I hoped my words terrified him; they seemed to have the opposite effect.
He charged me. I dodged to the side and I saw my opening. The young guy with the green cap was still stuck on the name Nicolas Frost, the fear still visible on his face. I slammed into him, sending him to the ground, before I raced down an alleyway.
Catch was heavy on my heels. I knew Limpy and the rest wouldn’t be far behind.
When I was a kid, we had this maze in our local shopping center. It seemed huge, and I always got lost inside it. This alleyway felt like a maze—I kept running, taking lefts, rights, yet there were still more. The fear of running into a dead end was becoming very real.
