Page 23 of Leave Me Behind
I look to the sky, the sun beginning its descent toward the distant mountains.There’s still time.
“Goddammit,” I whisper as I push myself up to my feet.
After assessing the cliff, I come to the conclusion that there’s no way I can clear it myself. The rock face is too sheer. Okay, what else can I use? I look around and see that the cliff extends far to each side. No good. I inspect the trees lingering nearby. One pine tree is larger than the rest; it has a thick trunk and the first branch is long and wide, stretching out over the edge of the cliff.
That’s my only option.
It takes a few tries of losing my grip around the tree and falling on my ass, but I finally reach the branch and wrap my body around it. I’m going to wring Bradshaw’s fucking neck when I get my hands on him. Thoughts of harming him fuel my hate-fire as I shimmy across the prickly branch. I ignore the splinters embedding in my thighs. It takes a great deal of effort to not look down.
I should cut off his dick. Break his lovely nose. What I would do to make him cry.
A smug, self-indulgent grin spreads over my lips at those diabolical thoughts. He deserves so much worse.
I finally reach the end of the branch and dare a glance down. The bough doesn’t quite reach as far over the ledge as I was hoping it would. I’ll have to swing.Shit.I’m easily twenty feet up and a fall from this height would probably break something. I draw in a deep, centering breath and slowly lower myself, clinging to the branch with trembling hands. Pumping my legs at the same time, I swing my body until there’s enough momentum to get myself over the ledge.
I hold my breath as I let go. Then I’m falling like a downed bird. I extend my arms in case my feet don’t catch the edge. The soles of my boots clip the gravel and for a brief, stupid moment I think I’ve done it. Then the earth gives out beneath me and my knees slam against the hardscape. A grunt escapes my throat as my chest hits the ground. I scramble to grip anything before sliding off the side and somehow manage to dig my fingertips into the dirt.
I wriggle myself up onto the plateau and splay out on my back. My heart hammers against my chest and all I can think of is beating the shit out of Bradshaw.
I fucking did it.
A laugh bubbles up from my chest and I lie here for several minutes until the shaking in my limbs ceases. I stand up and brush off my pants, wincing at the sting from my knees hitting the cliffside. Red smudges form beneath my uniform, but it’s mostly hidden by the black color of the fabric, so I choose to ignore it until I can bandage it up later.
The sun is moving fast, casting its fading colors across the sky like orange strokes of paint. I run the remaining miles and finally catch up to Bradshaw by the time we’re coming up to the marked point. His cocky stride is relaxed, making me angrier that he’s without a care in the world.
I fist a rock the size of my palm and a wicked smile staves off the pain throbbing through my body as I get ready to deck him with it.
“Hey,asshole!” I shout as I baseball-pitch the rock at him. He turns, clearly startled. The rock strikes his helmet and tilts his head. I burst into laughter before adding: “Fuck you!”
Bradshaw stares at me hollowly, like something’s been unplugged from his brain and an itch has formed. “You fucking brat.”
My teeth burn with hatred but I’m still laughing. “Oh,greatcomeback, are you five?”
He charges at me, without warning or any sound. My instincts flare into a sharp scream.I dart to the side and sprint as fast as I can to evade him. His hands reach out and he snags one of my thigh pockets. I turn and land a backhanded punch to the side of his face. He grunts but doesn’t let me go. He grips my braid and pulls my head back. We fall to the dirt together, wrestling like our lives depend on it.
“You make me sick.” His voice drips with loathing. He pins my arm behind my back and I already know he’s going to win this fight. My breath is too uneven and he has me pinned like an animal. I hold in the cry that swells in my throat. He twists my wrist and sets his knee on it. My face is planted against the earth and his weight spreads agonizingly over my spine.
“You’re the only repulsive thing here,” I say as scathingly as I can.
He mulls that over. “I’m not asking nicely again, Bunny. I want you off the squad. Fucking quit.” There’s nothing more I want than that too, buddy. I try to wriggle free but he only firms his grip on my wrist, forcing a cry from my lips. “You’ll never have a place here with us. The only good Riøt soldier is a dead one. And I can make arrangements for that, Bun. Fucking try me.”
My jaw trembles and my willpower to fight diminishes on a shuddering breath. Spit and blood bubble on the ground around my cheek. He settles his hips over my torso as my shoulders go lax and loosens his hold on my wrist.
Bradshaw leans forward until his hot mask coasts the shell of my ear. “If I really wanted to kill you, my blade would be buried in your back right now. You can’t compete in close combat. You can’t protect yourself. What if you were fighting an enemy soldier and they realized you’re pretty and took you back to their base? You know what happens then?” My gut twists. Of course I know. Everyone knows. “Just leave. None of us want you here.”
“Because I’m from Riøt,” I bite out, glaring up at him with venom in my eyes.
“Because I don’t trust you. I willnevertrust you.”
He stares down at me with disdain and once he’s sure I get the message he finally relents. He lets me go and pushes himself up, leaving me in the dirt as he walks ahead. I remain in the dust, breathing hard, unmoving, and thinking of anything more tragic than the predicament I’ve found myself in.
“Soldiers don’t cry.” Jenkins’s voice hums in my memory. His warm hands had spread over my shoulders. “If you give up, you die.”
Tears silently stream over the bridge of my nose. The sky grows dark as the sun sets. Footsteps approach but I can’t find the will to sit up.
“Nell.” Eren’s voice is gentle and sympathetic as he kneels beside me. Dread sifts through me and my head aches. I force myself up. Dirt and blood cling to my skin and smears as I drag my sleeve across my face. His eyes soften and he raises his hand to my cheek, rubbing his thumb over the remaining grains turned red from my bloody lip. “Long day?”
I give him a dry, callous laugh. “You could say that.”
