Through Glass (26 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Ethington

BOOK: Through Glass
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I watched it fall, my breathing picking up as I waited for it to move. Waited for confirmation that it was dead.

It.

Sarah.

No, I couldn’t think like that. I didn’t want to. My head spun as I wiped the warm fluid from my face, my eyes widening at the heap of black that covered the ground beside me. I felt numb as I stared at the body of the thing beside me. My eyes burning as part of me hoped it would start breathing again. I had killed them before and shouldn’t be reacting like this, but this time was different. It hadn’t always been the black monster. It had been my friend.

I turned my head away, my body begging me to go to sleep, but I couldn’t. More would be coming.

I tried to push myself to sitting, but everything in my body called out in pain with each small movement. I didn’t stop, though, I let the sounds escape as I ignored the pain. I pulled the pack from off my back, my hands ripping the zipper open as I fiddled with the lighter.

I fell onto my hands and knees, dragging paper and anything burnable with me as I barricaded it behind broken shelves. I dragged as much as I could find before bringing the lighter forward, spinning the wheel just as a screech echoed through the store. It came from somewhere behind me, the sound loud and oppressive.

I ran my finger over the wheel as the light came faster now; the old, dried papers blazing within moments.

My breathing slowed as the fire caught and spread, everything catching quickly until the brightness of the light touched everything I was surrounded by. I would be safe, as long as the fire was here. I would be safe.

My head pounded painfully as the skin swelled and pulsed. I placed as much burnable material in the makeshift fire pit as I could. It piled higher and higher until I couldn’t take the pain and I was sure I was going to pass out.

I knew it was dangerous, that I should ignore the pull of my subconscious. First aid one oh one. If you have a concussion, stay awake. I had a bad feeling that that would not be happening. I didn’t think I could control it.

Everything spun as the world went black, the light from the fire dimmed and I felt myself collapse to the ground.

The Tar are the dead. Beware the ones who are cut

The words traveled through my head over and over as I lay on the cold floor, the warmth from the fire washing over my skin. I was trapped somewhere between dreaming and sleeping, my body trying its hardest to stay asleep even though something was desperately trying to get me to wake up.

Everything felt heavy like over risen dough. My body felt sticky and disconnected. I moved my arms slowly, grabbing for my pillow, for the wrist watch, but my fingers only came in contact with shards of glass and a hard floor. I froze as I felt them, fear stinging my nerves as my mind began to fully awaken, pain coming back strong as my memory over what had happened replaced itself. Everything hurt, the heavy mass of my arms filled with a dull throb that shot up my arm and into the wound in my head.

Even without running my fingers over it I could feel the cool, sticky, blood matted in my hair.

I ran over everything that had happened—once, twice—over and over until I recalled everything. The fight, Sarah’s transformation, blacking out right after I built a fire…

Beware a cut wrist.

It seemed that the rules were right. Every one of those haunted writings continued to prove themselves one after another.

I had watched my friend turn into a monster.

I waited for my mind to accept everything as reality and not merely the nightmare world I had been trapped in. Slowly, acceptance came, the thought process feeling as sluggish and hefty as my body did.

I wasn’t surprised that I didn’t want to remember Sarah’s transformation, who would? I had watched my best friend turn into a monster, I had watched her try to kill me. I had killed her.

I moved slowly, my body aching as I pushed myself toward sitting, my skinny arms shaking in the attempt to hold my weight. I sat awkwardly, my head spinning at the movement as blood pulsed painfully under my skull. I could complain about the pain, but I was more thankful to be alive at the moment. Neck slicing aside, I should be the one that was dead.

I pushed myself to sitting and closed my eyes. I let the warmth from the fire wash over my skin as I waited for the dizziness to stop.

My eyes opened slowly only to widen in shock at the massive blaze in front of me. Large pieces of wood stuck out of the fire, crinkled paper and pieces of cereal boxes. They curled and burned and gave off the light that was necessary for survival. I should have been happy for the fire, for the light, but I couldn’t be. I hadn’t placed any of the new wood and paper inside the fire.

Someone else was here.

Everything tensed as I looked around me for whoever might be there. The pulse of my heart beat heavily in my ears as I looked. I couldn’t see anyone, I didn’t hear any odd noises. Just silence.

I could still get away.

I didn’t dare move because I was scared that the sound of my feet against the garbage which lined the floor would be too much. That whoever was here would hear me and know that I was awake.

That they would try to kill me, too.

I had hoped to find survivors—others like me—however when I did, she had turned into one of the monsters right before my eyes. I wasn’t sure what I could trust anymore.

I turned toward the monster silently, the black body limp and dead. Sarah. No, not Sarah; I didn’t want to think of her like that. I couldn’t. I shook my head and crawled toward the creature, my fingers curling around the bed rail that still protruded from its neck.

I paused, letting the confusing regret wash over me before pulling myself to standing, my head spinning with the movement. I clung to the rail for support, regulating my breathing as I waited for the dizziness to subside. Leave it to me to get a head injury bad enough that I wouldn’t be able to escape. I closed my eyes and exhaled, pulling the rail from the creature’s neck slowly in an attempt at silence. I tugged hard as the rail stuck in the sharp feathers of the creature, one big pull letting it free with an odd grinding noise.

I froze, sure that whoever had put the kindling on the fire had heard the noise. I gripped the rail, ready for an attack, but hoping to escape before one became necessary. I could already feel my muscles protesting at holding the heavy rail, my head still spinning from what I was sure was a pretty bad concussion.

I needed to get out of here.

I turned from the corpse of the thing in search of my backpack, expecting it to still be upturned, but instead found the contents placed nicely inside with the zipper shut up tight.

Whoever was here had gone through my things, too. Even through the pain that continued to surge through my head, I could vividly remember dumping everything out in my mad dash to ignite a fire. I remembered pawing through the pile of my meager belongings as I searched for the lighter, passing out before the blaze had fully caught.

My privacy had been invaded by what, I didn’t know, but I already knew I couldn’t trust them. I couldn’t trust anyone. I gripped the rail tighter, letting the end lift itself a bit, preparing for a strike to ward off whatever else was here.

I let out a shaky breath and moved forward—toward the backpack—my feet slow and deliberate as my eyes continued to scan the bubble of darkness that I was surrounded by.

I knelt down slowly in an attempt to be quiet, to keep whoever was here unaware of my activity. I was about half way down before my head decided it didn’t want to be stealthy and my body fell to the side, the rail clattering loudly as I collapsed. I clenched my teeth as I kept the groan restrained, my arms shaking as they pulled me back to sitting. I scanned the space around me, waiting, expecting a monster to burst out of the darkness at any minute.

There was only silence. I might still have time. I held the rail tight in my hands, my fingers gripping the zipper as I slowly pulled open the bag. I could simply take it and run, but if I went and the lighter was gone, I was little more than a sitting duck. Besides, I wasn’t sure I could run without collapsing again.

I stuck my hand in the bag while my eyes still shifted around me as I blindly searched for the small box. My heart relaxed a bit as my fingers moved over pictures, clothes, the canvas of Cohen’s painting. The precious things I had chosen to take with me were still intact, but that was all. There was no lighter.

“No,” I hissed through clenched teeth, keeping my voice low as I continued to riffle around the bag. I knew it was pointless; I had already established that the lighter was gone.

I zipped up the bag and threw it onto my back, content to do the next best thing, grab a torch and stumble away.

“Oh, good; you’re up.” I jumped at the feminine voice, my fingers tightening around the rail as I came to face whatever had taken my lighter. My weapon lifted to meet her face as my eyes focused on the tall girl who had just walked into the ring of firelight.

She looked human, but then again, so did Sarah. She smiled like a human, dare I say it, smelled like a human. However I couldn’t stop the fear and anger that built up. I didn’t trust this woman. I didn’t want her anywhere near me.

My teeth clenched as I stared into the girl who had spoken, the rail a warning between us, yet she didn’t even seem to notice. The girl walked right into the circle of light, clicking her flashlight off as she moved to sit down next to the fire.

She was about my age, maybe a little older, and didn’t look nearly as battle worn. Her clothes fit nicely, her smooth, clean hair pulled into a high ponytail. Even her skin was flawless. She folded her legs as she sat down, pulling two silver cans from the massive pockets of her pants.

“You had a pretty bad head injury, but the bleeding stopped quickly enough, so no worries. The last thing you would want would be to bleed out when you are out here.” She laughed, still oblivious to the blood covered rail I had pointed at her. The fact that she didn’t care only made me more on edge. I wanted a reason to trust her or to kill her and she wasn’t giving me either. I wasn’t sure which scared me more.

“You are going to want to rest, though, we will need to get back before too long,” she said simply before her eyes shifted and she finally seemed to notice the warning that I had pointed in her direction. “You can put that down. I’m with Azul. We weren’t expecting anyone for another month, so you can imagine our surprise when your fire showed up on our scans.” She smiled at me, the look obviously meant as a good show of faith. Any other time it would have, but I didn’t trust this.

I had just seen my best friend turn into a monster right before my eyes. I had seen the black blood drip from her wrists, seen the spines erupt from her face. I had no guarantee that this girl, whoever she was, wouldn’t do the same.

As much as I wanted to believe she was nice—she was human—as much as I prayed to find other survivors, right then, I couldn’t trust her.

“Show me your wrists,” I managed to stutter out, my voice weak and shaky from so much neglect.

The girl smiled again and uncoiled herself to stand before me, that smile back in place.

“You are a little hot, aren’t you?” I ignored her, not understanding what she meant.

“Let me see your wrists,” I repeated, steadying the rail as I let my voice rise in octave.

She smiled again, the look more acidic than sweet this time. I didn’t let down my guard, I kept the rail high, pointed right at her face, even though my arms screamed at me to just let it fall to the ground.

“You don’t know,” she whispered, the awe in her voice sounding more like disgust.

“Now,” the word hissed through my teeth, desperation blending into fear that only made the girl smile more, a wicked gleam catching in her eyes and my distrust of her only grew. Ice slithered down my spine and I cringed. I knew, that if I had to fight her I would lose. She was tall, muscular, well fed. Healthy. Whereas I was a skeleton with no obvious training. My head still pulsed, my body ached. One perfectly placed hit and I would be gone.

I could tell by the look in this girl’s eyes that she knew that, too.

She smiled again, this time lifting her arms up, the sleeves of her jacket pulling back just enough that I could see the perfectly untouched skin that circled her wrists.

I felt my tension ease a bit, the fearful pulse that seemed to have become a permanent part of me lessen. It wasn’t enough. I still didn’t trust her. I wasn’t sure I would trust anyone. I didn’t know enough about this new world to find that trust. I no longer trusted the world and I doubted I ever would again.

I tightened my grip on the rail, pulsing it toward her in warning, but the girl only rolled her eyes at me.

“If I was one of them, I couldn’t sit next to the light,” she said simply, her arms back to her sides.

She was right. I had seen the monster turn to ash before, I had seen Sarah panic over the lights. That is one rule I knew was right. She was human; the first I had seen since Cohen. One of the survivors I had been so intent on finding. They were there.

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