Page 18 of Devour
That’s when I realize that Lorraine was right. There is no life left west of the Morteres.
6
Lina
When the second masked man comes into view, I rip Astella from the path and into the brush. A crow caws, taking flight and disrupting the branches, followed by several others. I can only hope the rustling of leaves and echoing of caws covers our sound as we slip into wild brush and cower behind a tree just a foot from the road.
My breaths come in fast and ragged as I cling to Astella. She is pressed up against my chest between my arms.
“Shut up!” a voice growls. Close, he’s so close.
I hold my breath.
Nearly a minute passes before a little of the tension in my chest eases. I stop expecting a killing blow any moment and take better stock of our hiding place.
It’s not very good, but so far, they don’t know we’re here.
“You think it was them?” one of the warriors says.
There’s a pause and a sniff, but I don’t dare open my eyes to see what’s happening.
“I don’t hear it anymore.”
More silence. My heart is hammering. Is it loud enough for them to hear it?
Thudding steps come closer. I’m trembling and squeezing Astella tight against me. The thud of the boots grows and grows until they’re right in front of us.
I’m holding my breath now, silently praying desperately to any god who might hear that they won’t see us.
And the boots continue past.
My eyes fly open. The path in front of me is clear. Three cloaked men are walking away from where we sit, crouched behind a tree. I blink three times, certain it must be some kind of trick.
But only a moment later, they’re gone.
“They’ll come back,” Astella whispers. “They’ll see our prints, they’re?—”
This time, the panic doesn’t come.
My chest is tight. My soul is tired and sad. But also, among the fear is a calm I didn’t suspect.
“Okay,” I tell her.
“Lina? Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes,” I say quietly. Too quiet. “I understand what you’re saying.”
Somehow, standing in the face of doom is easier than the wondering. I’m scared of the pain, scared of all my nightmares coming to life. But in the midst of death, I have one thing remaining.
One act of rebellion left.
“You’ve saved me over and over,” I tell her. She and I have been allies, friends, sisters, for a year. Ever since I found her hiding in the rubble of her destroyed convoy. Her family wiped out in moments. “Now, it’s my turn.”
First, her brow furrows, but then what I’m saying hits her. “No,” she whispers. “No, we can’t split up.”
“Yes.”
“Lina, no.” I can hear the hurt in her voice. “You can’t leave me. You can’t leave me alone!”
