Olivia and I return to Marcus and Dillon with two squirrels. We clean, cook, and consume the meat without much conversation.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Olivia asks her brother.
“I’m fine,” he insists, standing up. She nods with a hint of reluctance. But really, what other choice do we have?
As we walk further, a wave of longing hits me. My mother, my father, and Rose who have all been killed. My life before all this, which seems like years in the past. My house, which had been blown to bits. I long for food other than game. The shops and the patch of grindelias in the heart of the village. But I really long for answers. Where are we going to end up? How long until we get somewhere? Why are they after us? Who exactly is after us? Will we make it out alive?
Between my thoughts, I notice a difference in our surroundings. The trees begin to thin out, bushes lessen. The leaf, twig, and dirt covered ground is soon replaced by lush, green grass dotted with wildflowers. We are now out in the open. None of us miss a beat on recognizing how similar this is to the meadow in the village.
“What now?” I ask. We couldn’t stay here for too long. No game, no foliage to camouflage in.
“I think a break is in order,” Dillon replies. We all nod. The remainder of the squirrels is finished off. Then I lie down on my back and gaze at the sky. As if I was happy. Safe. Carefree.
“Found your way yet?” Dillon asks me. I shake my head.
“There are just so many things I wish I knew,” I reply. Puffy white clouds pass above us with the gentle wind. I stare up at them, thinking of what shapes they resemble like how I did when I was younger. Making sense of the random forms the clouds take, however, is a lot simpler than trying to make sense of my unanswered questions. Dillon brushes the hair off of my face.
“Do you know that I love you?” I fish around my head for an answer.
“I do now.” His lips are warm as he presses them against mine. Once I pull away, he looks at me, anticipating me to say that I love him too. But I already promised myself that I wouldn’t lie to him.
“Dillon I—” By my tone or my expression he probably knew what I was going to say. Rather, what I wasn’t.
“No Skye,” he says. “I understand.” He doesn’t seem mad, but heartbroken instead, which is much worse. He stands up and starts to walk back to Marcus and Olivia.
“No, you don’t,” I call after him. He doesn’t even look back when he says.
“I understand all I need to.”
“No you don’t and you never will,” I whisper to myself.
I roll on my side, back facing the others, and let the tears stream from my eyes. Would this have happened if Rose was still alive? She had a way of somehow keeping us together. A shadow looms over me. Tall with broad shoulders. I turn to see Marcus’s sad green eyes. He crouches down to me and cups my cheek in his hand.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I tried.” I flashback to the morning when he said he wanted to protect me from losing Dillon.
“It’s not your fault,” I tell him. And I mean it. It’s mine.
“But when I see you like this, I can’t help but feel guilty.” I sit up and kiss him lightly on his cheek. Then I pull him into a hug. He doesn’t hesitate this time and wraps me in his arms. My tears drip down onto his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to care.
We walk back toward Dillon and Olivia.
“Skye I—” Dillon says, voice indifferent. He looks down at my side and I realize my fingers are laced with Marcus’s. Dillon’s eyes focus on the ground and he doesn’t bother to finish his sentence. I release my fingers to walk over to him, but Marcus still grips my hand. When I look back at him, he looks more solemn than I’ve ever seen him. His pleading eyes gaze at me as his grip slowly loosens and he drops my hand. He looks the other way, then back at me, not expecting me to have not moved.
“Go,” he whispers. “It’s okay.” I cross over to him and put my hand on his cheek.
“Is it?” I whisper. I don’t give him a chance to answer. I walk over to Dillon, who doesn’t look up when I approach.
“Dillon,” I say. His eyes stay fixated on the ground. “Dillon,” I repeat with more force. I place my hand under his chin and tilt his head up. His puffy eyes instantly focus on me.
“Skye,” he starts. But I don’t let him continue. I lean in and kiss him on his lips.
It wasn’t Dillon, but an arrow flying into my shoulder that caused me to break away.
I collapse on the grass. Pain darts through my arm as blood trickles down from the wound. I see Olivia grab a spear. Both Marcus and Dillon sink to the ground where I lie. Before I can tell him not to, Marcus carefully removes the arrow. The action sends a stabbing pain to my shoulder and I give a yelp. He presses a bandage to the wound.
“Skye, are you—” he starts to whisper.
“Back off!” Dillon shouts.
“Dillon,” I croak. I reach up and touch his cheek. “You still don’t understand.” He doesn’t argue this time, but glares at Marcus.
“Maybe this isn’t the time,” Olivia says urgently. Dillon helps me up and grabs his bow. I feel a warm hand on my arm. Marcus looks at me with a hurt expression.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. He leans in and kisses me on my cheek. An arrow whizzes by, narrowly missing his head. When I turn back, I see five burly men emerging from the forest. Fear paralyzes me. I could lose Olivia, Marcus, or Dillon today. Or my own life. A man with jet black hair and fiery amber eyes smiles slyly.
“How you been, Skye?”
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