Page 18 of Little Red Riding Hood
The slave driver’s face drained of colour as he fumbled with his whip. “Don’t just stand there, you idiots! Kill it!”
Red’s stomach twisted into knots. Knots of fear. If Wim was hurt or killed for these random elves…
A high-pitched howl pierced the air. Wim’s signal. Red’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm as he nocked an arrow, his fingers trembling. Wim lunged at the nearest trader, jaws snapping around his neck. The man’s scream was cut short as Wim’s teeth crushed his windpipe, blood spraying everywhere. Red’s stomach churned with a mix of revulsion and gratitude, the brutal display making his skin crawl. Wim, still in his wolf form, stood tall, his chest heaving with exertion, as if daring anyone else to make a move. Red’s gaze lingered on the carnage, his mind struggling to reconcile the violent beast before him with the man he’d eaten broth with last night.
Red’s gaze locked onto the slave driver. The man’s whip glinted in the dappled sunlight. Red’s stomach churned, his fingers trembling, shaking the bow. He’d never killed a man before. There would be no coming back from this. But then the image of that whip tearing into Wim’s flesh flashed through his mind.
He loosed the arrow.
It whistled through the air, finding its mark with a sickening thud. The slaver’s eyes widened in shock as the shaft protruded from his throat, blood spurting in a crimson arc. He stumbled backwards, clawing at the arrow, his eyes bulging as he choked on his own blood. As he toppled from his horse, a horrible gurgling sound came out of him. His body hit the forest floor with a dull thump, twitching as his life drained away.
Red’s breath caught in his throat. He’d done it. Killed a man. A slave driver carrying around a dozen captured prisoners, but still. What would Auntie Anne say if she could see him right now?“Life is complicated and filled with choices, Red,”most likely.
Another slaver stumbled away from the body, a splatter of blood on his dirty shirt. “Show yourself, coward,” he screamed in Red’s general direction. His eyes scanned the trees, and for a moment, they locked onto Red’s hiding spot. A cruel grin spread across his face as he raised his crossbow, taking aim.
Red ducked to the side, avoiding the crossbow bolt by mere inches.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Red didn’t sign up to be shot at!
The bolt struck the tree trunk with a deafening thud, sending splinters flying everywhere.
Red forced himself to breathe, peeking back out through the leaves.
Two slavers were advancing on Wim, their daggers glinting wickedly in the dappled light. Red’s hands shook as he nocked another arrow, gaze darting between the men before he loosed it to slice through the air and into one slaver’s back. The man crumpled witha strangled cry as Wim’s jaws clamped around the other slaver’s arm, yanking him to the ground.
Red tore his eyes away, focusing on the cages. He aimed at the rope binding the first cart, his arrow severing it cleanly.Yes!He’d done it, and with only one arrow too. A thrill of satisfaction burst through Red, almost dizzying him.
The elves inside surged against the bars, tipping the cage. It crashed to the forest floor, splintering apart. The small, dirty mare that was dragging it bolted with a loud neigh, charging past Wim with the speed of five horses.
Six elves scrambled free, their chains clanking as they bolted for the trees.Run little elves, run!A slaver sprinted after them, whip raised. Red’s bow was ready in a heartbeat, and his next arrow found its mark in the man’s thigh, sending him sprawling. His screams reverberated through the forest as he clutched at his leg, blood pooling on the forest floor.
Around them, the mayhem intensified, the acrid stench of blood and sweat reaching Red’s nostrils. Screams and shouts filled the air as the elves scattered.
One last slaver staggered around, his expression frozen in dismay, palms clamped to his temples.
Hold on.
Red scanned the ground, littered with mutilated bodies. Five dead or fallen slavers, one cowering in terror…
Where were the other two?
Red’s vision was partially obscured by the branches. He shuffled to the left—
Fuck!
The second cart had turned itself around and was now careening back up the track, its wheels kicking up dirt and leaves. A slaver atop the driver’s seat cracked his whip, urging the horse faster. He was clearly happy to leave his friend behind—the man on the ground bellowed curses, his face contorted with rage.
Four elven faces pressed against the bars of their cage, eyes wide with terror. They gazed in Red’s direction, as if they could see right through his leafy cover. Their fear-stricken expressions pierced him, stirring a deep ache in his chest.
No!Red wouldn’t let them get away. They would save them all.
Why wasn’t Wim chasing after them? Red’s gaze darted about, searching for his wildling companion. Then he found Wim limping towards the final slaver, favouring his left hind leg. A patch of blood matted the wolf’s fur around his neck, a stark contrast to his grey coat. Was he injured? How badly?
It was all falling apart.
The slavers were getting away with innocent lives, and Wim was hurt, possibly fatally wounded.
