Chase

The first thing I do when we get far enough away is take off the mask. Finally, I can breathe.

It’s deadly quiet as we drive.

It’s not a coincidence.

Whatever Graham gave her to keep her meek still has the girl paralyzed. But that won’t last much longer.

It’s mostly Brandon whose silent treatment doesn’t even make me flinch.

He keeps glancing my way, raising his brow, as if it will make me speak.

I know what he’s thinking, what he wants from me, but I’m not gonna give it to him.

I’m dead set on doing this.

The second I set foot inside that compound, I’d already sold my soul to the devil.

Nothing will change that.

Nothing.

Not even his venomous glares.

“There’s still time,” Brandon says, grinding his teeth.

A smirk spreads across my lips as I rub them. Oh, lord … he really can’t stop himself, can he? Self-righteous prick.

“I know,” I say, biting the insides of my cheeks.

“We can keep driving,” he adds.

“No.”

I gaze outside at the barren wasteland, counting down the seconds until we arrive at our destination. It isn’t far from here. Not too long now and I’ll finally know the truth.

The girl next to me groans. It’s time to switch.

“Stop.”

Brandon does what I ask, and I quickly exit the car and get into the passenger’s seat. “Lock the doors.”

He tsks me but does it without saying anything else. The look he’s giving me is enough. I know what he’s thinking, but I don’t care.

He starts the car again, but before he drives off, he mumbles, “Chase ….”

“No. Drive.”

I keep deflecting his attempts to sway me. There’s no use. I made up my mind a long time ago.

This must be done. Whether he likes it or not.

“I know I promised to help, but don’t you think this has gone far enough?”

“No. I need to do this.”

“But she’s just a kid,” he says.

“She’s not, and you know that. Don’t try to use lies against me. It won’t work.” I say, gazing at myself in the side mirror.

I cock my head and run my finger along the small indent in my chin. My skin feels tense. I am tense. I just don’t want to admit it, and no one needs to know because it’ll only make this more difficult than it needs to be.

“Are you sure?” he asks, as if I can still change my mind.

It’s way too late for that.

“Yes,” I reply, setting his mind at ease. Not mine.

“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He clears his throat, like he’s so high and mighty.

“You know why this has to be done,” I say, looking his way.

“Really? Does it have to?”

“Yes. You would too if you were me.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

I raise a brow. “Did you forget we’re playing the same game?”

“I’m just looking out for both our interests. I’m not gonna pick you up off the ground when you ruin yourself. No way.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“But you’re asking me to just sit here and watch.”

“Then close your eyes.” I shrug. “Simple.”

He narrows his eyes. “I’m driving.”

“You know what I mean.” I wave it away.

A groan emanates from the back, and I turn my head only to smile. The drugs are wearing off.

“It’s time.”

“We’re not there yet.”

I quickly roll up the privacy partition between the front seats and the back. “Drive faster.”

As we drive across the rocky, uneven terrain, the girl starts to move around, calling out in desperation, but I try not to pay any attention. Doing so will only make this harder. I want to go at this with a clear mind. I don’t want emotions to weigh me down, so I refuse to have any.

It doesn’t take the girl long to start banging on the window.

“Who are you people? Where are you taking me?”

She’ll know the answer soon.

We’re already approaching the area. I can see the bushes and deep canyon from here, and it won’t be long until we are outside, sniffing the fresh air.

And animals.

“Let me out!” the girl squeaks, kicking the car door.

My skin crawls, so I cover up my arms by pulling down my sleeves.

Brandon drives down the canyon across a gravelly path until we’re in the middle of nowhere, and he stops the car.

I straighten my collar and clear my throat.

Judgment time.

The girl is still banging on the window between us, so I guess she’s recovered. Good.

I get out.

“Chase.” I pause and look at Brandon. “Don’t do this.”

I slam the door shut.

I don’t need his opinion right now. It’s an added weight I can’t carry right now. I need to do this on my own terms.

Two steps and I come face to face with the blind girl. Syrena. But I’m not nearly as excited as I imagined I’d be. My smile immediately disappears at the sight of her.

So help me God … I will do this, no matter if it is the end of me.

I’ll accept whatever fate brings.

* * *

Syrena

I hold my breath as the door slams shut and another one opens. My body ceases moving the moment the door disappears from under my feet as I was kicking it. He opened it.

Is he letting me out?

Should I take my chance and run?

No time to waste, but what do I do? Fight him?

“Before you get anything in your head … don’t.”

Was that a threat? Is he carrying a weapon? I swallow away the lump in my throat.

I have to be careful around him. I don’t know this man.

I didn’t know Graham either, but at least I understood his patterns, his behavior … after a while.

But this? This is something entirely different.

I’ve been taken out of my cage, out of the compound, driven somewhere in a car of which I don’t recognize the smell. None of this is familiar to me, which makes it all the more frightening.

Moments such as these are when I miss the ability to see the most.

When it’s fight or flight.

“What do you want from me?” I ask, my voice quaking with fear I don’t want him to hear.

He snorts and says, “Give me your hand.”

I contemplate whether to trust him. What’s the worst that can happen? If he wanted to kill me, he could use any weapon he has. Doesn’t need his hands to do it. So it must be safe … right?

I hesitate but then hold out my hand anyway, and he pulls me out of the car.

“Strong enough to stand?” he asks.

I nod.

“To run?”

I suck in a breath.

Run? Why?

“Answer me.” His voice is commanding. Not at all sweet. There’s nothing poking at my back, no gun, but the sound of his growl is enough to make me do whatever he wants.

“Yes,” I say, feeling the power return to my legs.

“Good …” he murmurs. “Show me.”

“What? Now?”

“Yes,” he groans. I’m suddenly aware of how close he is to my ears. “Run.”

A shiver runs up and down my spine. “Where?”

“Away … from me.”

I shake my head as my hands touch the car, and I immediately jump back and turn around.

I don’t understand … why does he want me to run away from him?

But more importantly … what is he going to do me?

I don’t wait to find out.

I immediately start running.

It wasn’t his words that pulled the trigger. Or the car. Or the need in my bones to get away.

It was the sheer delight in his voice when he told me I needed to run from him.

I bounce across the ground, kicking away the rocks as best as I can, even though I can’t see them coming. As a blind girl, I’ve learned how to run while holding my feet as firmly to the ground as I possibly can so I don’t slip.

Still, I can’t avoid everything, and a sudden big rock trips me, and I fall.

My knees burn, but the footsteps behind me make me jump up as fast as I can, and I keep running. I can’t stop. I won’t stop.

This is my only shot at freedom.

My life in my own hands.

I haven’t felt the heat of the sun on my skin since I was in that damp cage in the compound. Haven’t tasted the fresh air on my tongue or smelled the scent of burning ground in ages.

And it’s invigorating.

It gives me the energy I need to fight.

To flee and run for my life.

My muscles ache, but that won’t stop me from running.

I’m out of breath, but I keep going. I refuse to stop.

Not even when I fall and have to crawl back up again, multiple times.

Nothing motivates me more than the threat of pain.

Because this man … is right behind me.

And I don’t know what will happen if he ever manages to catch me.

I can’t let it happen.

But I can hear his growls and footsteps just as hard behind me, and they never disappear. Not even when I push myself to run so fast my legs feel like they’re about to cave.

Suddenly, something latches on to my ankles, and I topple over.

“Got you …”

I squeal when he crawls on top of me. I fight, but he’s much stronger than I am, and he’s quickly covered my body with his, making it impossible to crawl away.

“Too slow,” he says, his voice low and slick as he keeps me pinned to the ground.

“Please …” I mumble, tears welling up in my eyes.

I managed to roll onto my back when he grabbed me, but now I fear what’s going to happen.

Something sharp slides along my neck. Something cold … and metallic.

Tears well up in my eyes. “Please …” I mutter again, almost choking on my own words.

“Shhh …” he whispers, his voice so soft it’s like that of a demon disguised as an angel.

My whole body shivers as the blade shifts positions, carefully crafting a line down toward my chest where it stays. Pointed right at my heart.

Tears roll down my cheeks. I freeze.

Is this the end?

Is he going to kill me?

“Please, don’t do this,” I beg.

But there’s no reply.

I wait and think about all the things I still wanted to do. Still wanted to experience. All the things I’d miss in this world.

I might not have a family or a good home to go back to, but dammit, I don’t want to die.

Now, more than ever, I want … to live.

And as the blade pushes into my skin, I await my fate, knowing it wasn’t my choice. I fought, I ran, I failed, but I never gave up. That must be worth something.

Seconds feel like minutes as he holds me to the ground.

Maybe it actually has been minutes. I can’t tell.

All I feel is the sharp point against my body.

And then wetness … drip. Drip.

Onto my chest.

Motionlessly, I lie underneath him as his grip on me begins to fade in strength.

The blade slowly pulls away until I no longer feel it on my skin.

Is this a trick? Is he just messing with me? Trying to get me to face my own death with dignity?

I wait in shock, my body not even responding to the fact that he’s no longer holding me down.

Still, wetness drips onto my skin.

Is he … crying?

Something clatters to the ground. The metal clashing with the rocks.

I suck in a breath.

Suddenly, he has his arms around my back, and he lifts me up from the ground. Pulls me close. Into his embrace.

My lips part. “Wha—”

“I can’t … oh God, does it mean that I …” he murmurs into my ears, not finishing his sentence.

As my own salty tears enter my mouth, I just sit there and accept his comforting hug.

I don’t know what else to do.

Nothing makes sense.

“I’m sorry …” he murmurs. “I’m so sorry.”

My brain is spinning, overgrown with thoughts of murder. Of how the blade was about to pierce my skin. How, at this very moment, he could still be reaching for the blade to thrust it into me.

Maybe it’s all a ruse.

Maybe it’s all lies meant to make me feel safe, even when I’m not.

But then he does the most peculiar thing.

He whispers into my ear, “Thank you.”