Violet Path (6 page)
“Why?” I managed to say, even though I trembled with fear.
“Because no one lives forever, and I need to know that my successor will finish what I’ve started.”
“Why me?”
“Because you can get the job done! Because I chose you! You should be grateful! I’m offering you more than anyone else could ever have.”
“But I never asked for it.”
Another blow to the abdomen sparked shivers that ran down my spine as I started to fall to my knees. Matthew lifted me up again and turned me to face the door. He then ordered four soldiers to accompany me to my room. I wasn’t to eat dinner, but I had to attend an extra class until midnight.
I allowed them to take me back to my room, but I secretly vowed to not stay for long. I refused to remain locked up in a nightmare that was to end with death. I wanted Matthew’s life to end, for all he had done was take others’ lives mercilessly and without the slightest regret. I rejected being forced into becoming a killer, or worse: Matthew’s heir.
I was going to run away.
Over the following year, I secretly stole whatever I needed to survive— food provisions, filter pills, changes of clothes, and knives. I enjoyed taking what belonged to Matthew when he had taken so much from others. I had attended many tiring and painful classes, and passed cold, dark cells filled with helpless, hurt people. Because of my attitude, I had spent some nights in a cell with heavy locks and cold stone floors. It was on the top floor of the prison, isolated and surrounded by white walls with the smell of sterile alcohol smothering the air. Matthew ordered to have my ankles locked to the floor and my wrists locked behind my back. The position made it hard to sleep, but I smiled every moment that Matthew frowned. He personally had to escort me to my classes, which meant I was ruining his plans for the day. I would do anything to trouble him. I had never been asked if I wanted to be his heir, and I refused the position, so until they took that option off the table, I would continue making their lives difficult. After training and seeing what Matthew did to “protect” Tamizeh, I couldn’t possibly support the war. Every day, war prisoners came in bleeding and left in body bags the same day. I was ready to leave.
One night, I awoke in a thick layer of sweat, shivering from fear. I kept imagining soldiers tearing my limbs off, or worse: I was decimating every village I came across. In my dream, I had murdered a family of five and saw their blood on my hands even after I had opened my eyes. I had held the gun steady with the barrel flush against a young girl’s temple. With teary eyes, she had looked at Matthew’s ring, which had been slipped onto my finger, and I had pulled the trigger without hesitation. Once she had fallen, I had grabbed her brother, held the gun to his head . . .
My arms and legs were bound, so I just lay still, cold and alone in the dark, and cried for the rest of the night.
My hate for Matthew grew and started to consume me. One morning, when he had come into my cell, I held out my hands for the cuffs to be taken off, then wiped the grin off his face with a strong punch. One of his soldiers held me at gunpoint to calm me down, and the cuffs had remained on for the rest of the week. Simple tasks became challenging, but giving Matthew a black eye was worth it.
Finally, after many nightmares and endless pain, I was ready to escape. I wanted to hurt Matthew, but I knew I couldn’t hurt him if I stayed. I didn’t know where I was going to go, but anywhere was better than H.S.H.S.
When I wasn’t in my cell, I spent my time sewing a camouflage suit with cloth that I had found in the laundry room. I had also found a pair of outdoor boots. I had the perfect outfit that could withstand almost any weather, and I would be able to move swiftly without being seen.
I had also spent countless hours trying to crack the code that kept me locked in my room. The code had been simple—my birthday: 03-25. The more time I’d spent there, the more I wanted to erase the nightmares, but they seemed permanently engraved in my mind. I hated Matthew. All he had ever done was encage me.
And tonight was going to be the night. After weeks and weeks of torment, I was ready to make my escape.
I silently crept out of the door carrying a bag with all of my surviving supplies. I tied my black hair into a bun. I swiftly made my way down the stairs and into one of the gyms. I stole one of the skateboards, broke off its wheels, attached my anti-gravity ring to it, and ran outside into the dark night. I passed a couple of soldiers like a ghost. As soon as I was completely alone and out of sight, I laid the board down, turned on the ring, and jumped onto the hovering skateboard. I headed toward the forest’s edge. I was finally going to be free!
As I passed the principal’s office, the school’s alarm went off. I sped straight ahead toward my freedom. Red lights beamed around the campus, while bright, white lights shone everywhere. Students emerged from their dorms and got into their battle positions, searching the campus. My heart was pounding. I was terrified. I couldn’t be caught. Matthew would torture me if he were to catch me escaping from his grasp. I had to get away. The nightmare had to end.
As I approached the laser beams, I jumped off the hover-board and held it under my arm. I carefully crawled between every ruby beam; the slightest contact would send a signal telling the whole school where I was. Sweat pearled on my forehead as the beams skimmed my eyes when I passed between them.
As I crossed the last laser, a weight had been lifted, but my heart skipped a beat when I made eye contact with a student, who then rung the alarm. I raced into the forest as fast as I could. Without turning around, I was certain that everyone was chasing me. I could feel the earth trembling under my feet. I heard a gunshot and felt as if the world had fallen apart. I froze, then slowly turned around. The students, soldiers, and robot-like instructors all had their backs to me. They were taking orders from someone who was standing in the center of the crowd. I recognized the voice; it had been engraved in my mind.
“Circle her!” Matthew yelled. “Bring her back alive! Do not come back without her! Take down anyone who stands in your way!”
Matthew was furious. Those who weren’t capable of finding me would surely be struck down without hesitation. Something worse would happen to me if I were caught. I had to get away.
I started to run, and when I thought it was safe, I saw someone move in the distance. I was encircled—doomed!
I collapsed to the ground and crawled behind a bush. Fear crawled beneath my skin and clawed at my heart. I was terrified, but I couldn’t confront Matthew again. I had the strength to stand up to him, but he would surely destroy me.
Someone passed in front of me, which meant that the circle was closing in. I had nowhere to go. As their night goggles skimmed over me, I closed my eyes. I imagined my hands tied behind my back, struggling to get away as my “colleagues” brought me to Matthew. I refused being caught, especially when I had already crossed the line.
“I see footprints,” someone said.
I waited silently, and then the commotion seemed to move away. Once it was clear, I quietly stepped onto my hover-board, leaned forward, and sailed into the dark forest.
The dark forest was alive. Neon green fireflies danced in the black of night. Bushes rustled in the weak wind. A few animals rushed by with glowing, yellow eyes. The soil was cold, and a few drops of water started to fall from the sky. The trees were tall and blocked out most of the stars. I could hear people running and talking from afar, and the howl of an owl sang to me. It was peaceful, but fear pierced through my heart when another gunshot rang through the air. I heard Matthew’s voice calling back all of the students. Blood was most likely going to be shed at my escape.
After about five miles, I stopped and decided to rest. As I reached for my backpack, I realized that all of my belongings were gone; they had fallen off of my board while I had run away, but I couldn’t go back.
My eyes felt heavy, and somehow, through it all, I managed to fall asleep.
I woke up to someone tapping my shoulder. I quickly sat up, terrified that I’d been caught. A young man in his late twenties was standing over me, looking confused. He had beautiful, green eyes and rose-colored lips. His dark, brown hair framed his square but elegant jaw. He wore brown, ragged clothes the color of dirt.
I didn’t recognize him, and I had never seen him at H.S.H.S., but for whatever reason, his presence brought me calm. I wanted to blurt out everything that had happened last night, but I was afraid. I didn’t trust him completely.
“What’s your name?” the young man asked, still kneeling beside me.
“I–I’m Alexia,” I managed to say. “What’s yours?”
“I’m David. What are you doing here?” The mysterious man scrutinized me, making me feel very self-conscious.
I didn’t really have an answer; I had wanted to run away, but I hadn’t really thought about what I was going to do next. “I’m not sure,” I vaguely replied.
“That’s always everyone’s response.” David looked away into the distance. The forest was empty. He held out his hand and helped me up. I couldn’t really explain what I was feeling, but it felt . . . different. I felt protected away from Matthew. There was something in David’s green eyes that gave me hope. His soft tone was soothing, and my instincts told me that he wasn’t going to take me back to Matthew.
I picked up my hover-board and followed David deeper into the woods, away from H.S.H.S.
“Where are we going?” I asked shyly.
“You’ll see,” David said in an emotionless tone, and we continued walking.
The forest was extremely calm. The light gently sparkled through the golden and fiery-red leaves. A creek shimmered in the sun’s light, and the trees danced in the breeze. Dead leaves cracked under our feet with every step. The morning dew dripped off the leaves, glimmering in the soft light. The wind was strong but not cold. The morning birds’ song was cheerful. The soil was damp under our feet.
I suddenly stopped in my tracks.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. I looked down at the thick layer of leaves covering the rich soil.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I’m following you, someone I don’t know . . .”
Something moved. Someone was watching us.
“I’m over here,” said Matthew’s deep voice behind me. And then I felt the barrel of a gun pressing against the center of my back between my shoulder blades. Matthew’s arm snaked around my neck. I froze.
David stood there, pointing his gun at me and Matthew, his eyes wide with anger.
I closed my eyes.
A gunshot rang out.
I fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Blood dripped down my left knee. The pain burned from my leg to my head. When I tried to move, it felt like a spear piercing through my knee. Through watery eyes, I saw Matthew and David pointing a gun at each other. The tip of David’s gun oozed black smoke. I held my breath.
They were frozen at a standstill, staring into each other’s eyes. David looked scared, yet very confident. But why did he shoot me? I mustered all the energy I could and slowly crawled away from Matthew. My knee bled over the leaves, and I could see part of the bullet in my leg. All that blood—my head was getting dizzy. I closed my eyes.
Suddenly, I heard the charging of a gun. I opened my eyes and saw Matthew standing between David and me. He held a gun in each hand—one aimed at David and the other at me.
“Don’t move,” Matthew said to me, “or you’ll both be hurt.” His icy gaze was fixated on David.
My knee was aching, but I pulled my leg, trying to get away, hoping Matthew wouldn’t pull the trigger.
I blinked.
There was another gunshot.
Matthew screamed.
David ran behind me, wrapped his arm around my neck, and shoved the smoking gun under my chin. What was he doing? I could feel the warmth of the gun against my jaw. I was terrified. Matthew’s eyes were wide, his right hand bleeding from David’s shot.
“First, put down your gun. Then kick both of them over here,” David ordered. Matthew obeyed. “Pick them up,” David yelled at me, pushing his gun harder against my throat. I leaned forward and picked up the guns with shaky hands.
When I looked up, Matthew was gone, leaving a trail of blood behind him. But I still had a gun threatening my life.
I didn’t move. My leg was still bleeding and sent a paralyzing sensation throughout my body. My throat was starting to hurt because David was pushing the gun right under my chin, as if he were trying to pass his weapon through my jawbone. He was looking around for Matthew.
David suddenly jammed the gun into my back, the burning tip of the barrel pressing against my spine.
“Get up,” he said in a strong voice. I tried to get up, putting all of my weight onto my right leg. I almost fell again, but I pushed myself up. The paralyzing feeling fled from my head all the way down to the ground, as if it were racing against my heartbeat. I was faint. Blood ran down my leg.
“Walk,” ordered David. My original feeling of trusting him had been rendered to dust and replaced with sharp fear.
I pushed my left leg forward, but as soon as I put pressure on it, I collapsed.“I can’t walk on it,” I said in a trembling voice.
“Try again,” David repeated in a cold tone. His green eyes were no longer reassuring.
I leaned against a tree and used it as leverage to lift my body. It felt like blood was gushing out of my leg, and I was getting dizzier by the second.
“That way,” he said, pointing his gun. I limped, dragging my injured leg behind me. I tripped over a root, but caught myself on a tree. The more I moved, the more pain I felt.
“Don’t think about doing anything crazy. I’m not hurt, so I can take you down in a matter of seconds,” David warned. He flung my left arm over his shoulder, then put his right arm around my hip. He was still holding the gun with his free hand. I limped as he pulled me along. We kept walking as small tears ran down my cheeks and dropped onto the fertile soil.
If I hadn’t run away, I wouldn’t have met David; I wouldn’t have been attacked by Matthew and wouldn’t have been shot. I had trusted a stranger for no real reason, and in return he had put a hole in my leg. I thought he would have helped me, but I had been the one he had taken down. His choice of shooting me over Matthew had planted terror deep inside of me. Maybe I was truly alone in this world. Maybe I was the only one who hated Matthew.
