Part 7 (1/2)

Chapter Eight.

The Hunt A large, furry animal with pointy teeth nips at my heels. Every once in a while, his teeth nick the back of my leg and draw blood. But I don't slow down, racing toward the thick forest about a mile ahead. I don't know who I'm running from or why they're chasing me, yet I somehow know the forest will protect me. Just like I know the men will kill me if I don't get to safety.

”Get her!” a man yells over the thunder of hooves hammering against the soil. ”Shoot her if you have to! Remember, she can't die! She's one of them, so be on alert! She might try to retaliate! And we don't know yet what she can do!”

Bile burns at the back of my throat. Do they know what I am? How?

Sweat drenches my skin as I collect my lengthy black dress in my hands and pick up my pace, charging across the field faster than I thought I could run. How am I moving this fast?

The overly grown gra.s.s hisses at my legs, and pebbles in the ground tear at my bare feet. My long, brown hair fell from the pins about a mile ago, and strands blow in my face.

A heavy fog snakes from the trees, and a light mist haunts the wide river just to my left. I think about veering toward the river, diving in, and letting the rapids carry me away, but a horse gallops up and blocks my path.

Sitting in the saddle is a younger man wearing a wool jacket with pants tucked into leather boots. In his hand is a long-barreled gun.

”Just stop running, Allura!” he begs. ”I don't want to shoot you, but I will if I have to.”

I know this man and well. I just don't know how I know him. The memory is old and has faded with time, almost forgotten.

”Please, just stop running,” he pleads in desperation. ”It'll ruin me if I have to shoot you.”

”If I stop running, then you'll shoot me!” I scream, a venomous rage bubbling inside me.

His eyes briefly widen, but then his expression contorts in disgust. ”You look just like them right now.”

”Like who!” I cry, legitimately having no clue what he's talking about.

”You know who.” He shakes his head then kicks his heels, and the horse speeds up. ”I'm sorry, but I know what has to be done now.”

Tears sting at my eyes, and my heart splits in two. Whoever this man is, I think I may have loved him once. But now he looks at me like I'm the most repulsive creature on earth.

No! I can't let my thoughts break me. I need to focus on getting away!

I rip my attention off him and run as fast as I can.

Just get to the trees. Just get to the trees. They're my safe haven.

”Don't let her get to the trees!” another man shouts. ”If she gets in there, we will lose her!”

I turn my head and look at the river again. The guy I loved is pointing his gun at me, ready to fire. A part of me withers and dies.

”Get ready, men!” a man shouts. ”When I give the orders, we all shoot at once! We don't want to take any chances!”

My heart slams against my chest. Please, please, please, let me make it.

Just a little farther and then I'll reach the trees. When I get there, I don't know what I'll do, but right now, I can't think about it.

”Fire!”

Boom! Shots ring out and the bitter taste of gunpowder burns at my taste buds.

I dive, ducking for cover, and hit the ground hard. I don't move fast enough, and pieces of scorching hot metal pierce me from every angle, slas.h.i.+ng through my skin and ripping through my muscles. Blood gushes out of the wounds and saturates the dirt below me.

I cough, trying to breathe, but blood spurts from my mouth. I want to give up, just lie down and die. My body and mind both feel so broken, but the will to live kicks in, and I claw my fingernails into the dirt and drag my body toward the trees.

No, I can't let them capture- Fingers enclose around my shoulder and flip me over onto my back. The blue sky has turned a thunderous grey, and a mysterious silence has settled around me.

Am I dead ...?

I feel myself being pulled somewhere else.

”Allura, can you hear me?” a familiar voice asks.

”I know you.” I cough through the blood. ”You've saved me before, but you're not from this memory.”

”Allura.” His voice basks over me like a hot summer day underneath the sun. ”Answer me.”

”I am.” Why can't he hear me?

He sounds upset, and I want to comfort him, but I think I might be dying. I was shot so many times by those men on horses in a world I hardly remember, but that no longer exists ...

Wait. I'm only dreaming. I have to be.

”Squeeze my hand if you can hear me,” the guy says, taking my hand.

I try to squeeze it, but my fingers feel numb. It's okay, I want to say. Don't worry. I'll be fine. I always am ...

Darkness rims my vision.

”Whatever you do, don't close your eyes,” he whispers in my ear.

That's when it hits me.

Blaise. He's alive. He didn't die. He's here with me. But where is here? Where am I? I can't see anything anymore.

”Just hang on,” he demands. ”Don't go to sleep.”

I want to hold on. I don't want to go back to that nightmare where I'm lying shot on the ground. I want to stay with Blaise, but exhaustion drags me down.

I hear him curse, scream in frustration, and then he cups my head in his hands.

”Just give in to it,” he says, defeated.

”Give in ... to what ...?”

”The poison.”