That morning, while we were walking, Marcus, Dillon, and I were teaching Rose and Olivia how to use weapons. Dillon was showing them how to shoot with a bow and arrow, while Marcus was demonstrating the throwing of spears. My arm, still sore from yesterday, was making it harder to shoot, so I sat on a rock and watched them. Olivia was actually pretty handy with a spear. She even managed to pin a rabbit—with a little help from Marcus, that is. Rose was able to stick an arrow in a tree by the time we ventured on.
The day passed uneventfully—thank goodness—and we were lucky enough to find a small cave. We were just finishing dinner when I decided to ask Rose a question that had been on my mind all day.
“Rose, didn’t your father ever teach you how to hunt?” Her face darkens. Just as I’m about to apologize, she speaks.
“My father hated me.” Our eyes widen.
“What?” I ask, moving toward her.
“He wanted a boy to hunt with. He thought he could make do with me, but once he saw how small I was, he knew I would never be good enough. One day, I begged my father to take me out with him. All he did was shove a bow and an arrow in my hands. He didn’t teach me how to use it or anything, then went home telling my mother I was useless; that I couldn’t do anything.”
“Rose, I’m so sorry,” I say hugging her. “That’s awful.” It’s one thing to lose people you love, but another when you lose those who should’ve loved you.
“That was the morning before the massacre,” she adds softly. The last memory of her father was him saying she was useless. Rose still sits wrapped in my arms. She doesn’t cry, but the look in her eyes tells me that she’s fighting not to.
“Who should take the first—” Olivia starts. She is interrupted by a flash of lightning, followed by a clap of thunder.
“I’ll watch,” I say.
“But you really should rest with that arm,” Olivia protests.
“No, I’ll be fine,” I reply.
“Then I’ll watch too,” Dillon confirms.
For a while, we just watch the pouring rain fall on treetops and bushes, soak the grass and the cave roof. At some point, we refill our dwindling water supply. I start to get tired, and apparently it shows because Dillon motions for me to rest my head on his lap.
“Sleep,” he says gently. “I can watch on my own.”
“Are you—?”
“I’m sure.” As tired as I am, sleep doesn’t come to me. Nothing—not even Dillon’s strong yet tender hands stroking my hair—can ease my mind.
“Dillon,” I start, “what do you think’s going to happen to us?”
“I don’t know, Skye,” he says softly.
“What if they kill us?” The words burn my mouth.
“I try not to think about it.”
“How?” That’s all I’d been thinking of.
“I think of the thing that makes me happiest.” A smile grows on his face.
“And what would that be?” He pauses.
“You.” He leans down and kisses me on my forehead. “Now get some sleep.” I give him a smile before my eyes close and I drift off.
When I wake the next morning, a pair of green eyes looms over me.
“I told you so,” Marcus gloats.
The storm from last night carries on so we stay inside the cave. Marcus fiddles with some string, trying to make a trap.
We hear a gunshot not too far away. We all exchange glances.
“Let’s go,” I declare.
“Wait, you should stay, Skye,” Olivia objects. “I’ll stay too. We’ll come if you need backup.” Rose, Dillon, and Marcus head out into the rain, armed. After only a couple of minutes, we hear a scream. Rose. I snatch a bow and some arrows, and Olivia grabs a spear and a knife. We run.
The rain soaks us as we bolt toward the sound of several more shrieks. We find four men, all tall and buff, and very heavily armed. Rose is being restrained by one man, who is holding a knife to her neck. Marcus is attacking him with a knife of his own. I spy Dillon, tied to a tree. Unconscious with a giant welt on his cheek. A man loads his gun and aims at him.
“No!” I scream. I dash in front of Dillon, shielding his body with my own. The man lowers his weapon.
“Oh look,” he says smugly, “girlie’s got herself a boyfriend!” That’s enough to send an arrow into his head. The man who had Rose now lays dead too.
The rain falls harder now, making it harder to see. I hear a gunshot. I turn to see Marcus, collapsed on the ground, clasping his ankle which begins to drip blood. Olivia rushes to his side. Rose is nowhere to be found. Suddenly, I hear an unforgiving snap followed by a yelp from Rose. Her wrist is rapidly swelling when I reach her. I turn, trying to find the man who caused this, just in time for him to cut me in my forehead. Drops of blood run down from the wound.
Another gunshot. From what I can see, it grazes Olivia’s shoulder. I’m chasing the man who cut me. Whether it’s the rain, my fresh cut, or the man’s skill that prevents me from shooting him doesn’t matter. Rose has managed to hide. Dillon is still unconscious. Marcus and Olivia are both struggling. One man aims at Dillon again. I change my path and slip, landing at Dillon’s feet. Something sharp pierces my right arm.
Everything around me becomes blurry. Then my world fades to black.
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