by Ruby Brown
“We have to make a decision soon,” Mal said anxiously. “It’ll look strange if anyone sees us standing here like this.”
“Screw it,” Claire said. “We’ll just starve to death. It’ll be fun.”
“Stop being melodramatic,” Mal said in exasperation. “I think there might be another way in. Come with me.” She started walking determinedly back the way they came. Confused, Claire and Trixie followed her as she led them to the fence behind her house. Seizing one of the rotting planks of wood, she got Claire’s help to wrench it away and make a hole large enough for them to crawl through. Before she could be seen, she quickly leapt upwards and grabbed the lowest branch of the large tree that grew by her house and hauled herself up painfully. She gestured for Trixie and Claire to do the same. Doing her best to ignore her fear of heights, Mal got to halfway up the tree and looked through the leaves. She could see her house and garden below her, and the police officers in dark blue uniform guarding the whole thing. Thankfully, there weren’t too many of them, but it would still be a challenge getting out. She’d worry about that later.
Moving more carefully now as the branches grew more brittle, Mal made her way up the tree, feeling the rough bark scratch at her palms. Leaves and twigs wrapped themselves in her hair. She started to panic when she realised that she couldn’t go any higher. The branch she was standing on was already precarious, but if she tried to go any higher they would break and fall. The good news was that she was just at the right height to get onto the roof. Bad news, she had miscalculated the distance between the branches and the roof of her house. Originally, she had thought that she’d be able to use the branches as a walkway, but now she could see that she would just have to leap from the tree and hope that she could make it. She looked down at the people below her, and saw Claire frantically mouthing the word ‘no’ and shaking her head. Trixie just looked scared, held in disbelief.
Mal looked back at the house, feeling her heart pounding in her chest. Carefully, she weighed up her options. Sure, she could go back down the tree where it was safer and try to find another option, but that increased the chances of being spotted by the police. She had to do this. Taking a deep breath, she clenched her hands around the tree trunk one last time before she leapt through the air, hands outstretched desperately. She managed to hook her fingers in the gutter pipe, which creaked and strained to support her weight. Her shoes scrabbled for purchase on the smooth walls of her house, but somehow she managed to pull herself up and collapse on the roof of her house, panting from a mixture of exhaustion and fear. Claire went next, and they both held out their arms for Trixie to jump into. She almost didn’t make it. As she pushed off of the branch, it finally broke and she fell with it, leaving Mal and Claire to lean down as far as they could go and just snag Trixie’s wrists in their hands so they could pull her up.
Of course, the police had heard the branch crack, so the three of them stayed huddled together and motionless on the roof before the shouting died down and they felt it was safe. They crawled across the roof until Mal made them stop at the skylights that lead into her room. Turning to Trixie, she said “melt it”.
“What?” Trixie asked, confused.
“Melt the glass with your fire magic. It shouldn’t take too long. Then we can go through.” Trixie looked absolutely terrified. “What’s wrong?”
“Like I said, I’m not good with magic. I’ll probably end up burning your house down,” Trixie insisted, looking at the window like it was going to bite her.
“I’m sure you won’t,” Mal reassured her, but Trixie shook her head. Just as Mal started to reply, Claire snagged Mal’s pocket knife from her belt and spun it in her hand, bringing the glass breaker down hard on the skylight. With just a few hits, the glass gave way, and Claire catapulted herself through the opening, dragging Mal and Trixie with her so that they all landed in a pile on the floor. As soon as Mal could stand, she demanded that Claire give her knife back, which she did.
“What the hell was that?” Mal hissed.
Claire looked genuinely surprised and innocent. “What?”
“You just took my knife from me and used it to break the glass in pretty much the loudest way possible and then pulled us down without any warning. You didn’t even give Trixie a chance!”
“Come on,” Claire scoffed. “You could see from the look on her face that she wasn’t going to do it. She’s a coward.” The look on Trixie’s face strongly reminded Mal of how Thomas looked when his sister called him that. She managed to find bags for all three of them squashed in the back of her wardrobe and then she cautiously edged her bedroom door open, praying that the hinges didn’t squeak. She could hear voices, but considering how quiet they were, coupled with the fact that no one came into the room when they fell to floor, it was safe to guess that they were outside. They cautiously crept out, stretching aching muscles and talking in hushed tones. No one seemed too badly hurt, just badly shaken.
Keeping low, one hand on her pocket knife, Mal slunk to the kitchen and started opening the cupboards, slinging as much food into her bag as possible. She didn’t know how long they would be travelling for, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Trixie joined her in collecting food, while Claire looked through the drawers for containers and bottles she could fill with water. Every muscle in Mal’s body was tense as she filled her bag. Her fingers kept returning to her pocket knife, tapping it just to make sure it was still there. She was determined to keep her focus on the food in front of her and what she had to do and refused to let her thoughts drift anywhere near her family or what had happened to them. She was just going through the motions. But she was so focused on not breaking down that she didn’t notice the footsteps until it was too late.
“Hey!”
Mal jumped and spun around. Standing at the entrance to the kitchen was a police officer, shock written all across her face as she took in what was in front of her. There was a moment of stunned silence, and then Claire threw the water in the container she had been filling up straight into the police officer’s face. She sputtered and staggered backwards, wiping it from her face. Without wasting any time, the three girls leapt to their feet, slung their unzipped bags over their shoulders, causing food to fall out everywhere, and then barrelled past the officer and knocked her to the floor in their attempt to get away.
Even though it was the closest option, Mal knew that there was no way they could go out of the front door and not get stopped by the policemen stationed outside, so she raced towards the back door with Trixie and Claire following close behind, and the police officer gaining on them. Mal threw the back door open and hurled herself outside. The sudden burst of fresh air made everything sharper, clearer, and the sound of the gravel driveway crunching under her feet echoed in her ears.
By this time, the other police officers had come in from the garden, two of them. With a silent apology, Mal swung her fist as hard as she could and heard a grunt of pain as it connected with his face. A spurt of blood flew from his mouth and coloured the ground below them. Stunned, the officer managed to grab her hand, but as he took a split second to recover from the pain Mal put her foot up against his body and pushed hard. He went staggering backwards just as Mal’s arm was seized from behind by the officer who had originally seen them in the kitchen. With her free hand, Mal grabbed her pocket knife and spun it around so that the blade was pointed at the person behind her. She plunged the blade into the soft flesh of their stomach and ripped it sideways. A horrendous scream of pain crashed against her ears as she shoved the already limp body of the officer off of her and started running again, joined by Claire, who had taken care of the other police officer. The two of them caught up to Trixie, who had continued to run in a blind panic.
No one dared to stop. They continued sprinting down the streets, turning corners, crashing through shrubs and ploughing through water in an effort to disguise their tracks. They hadn’t a clue where they were going, but they didn’t care. All that mattered was that they put as
much distance between them and the police as possible. They didn’t stop until the stitches in their sides were so bad it made them cry out every time they moved and their legs were so tired they could barely stand. Mal collapsed onto the soft, cool grass and gasped desperately for air. Trixie staggered to one side and threw up onto the ground. Claire lay on her back like she was making snow angels. Mal closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, but as soon as she felt like she could move she gingerly pulled herself up and examined the land around them.
A cold wave washed over her, and she was powerless to stop it. Her gut twisted and her heart started racing. Her breaths were quick and shallow. She clutched at her arm, digging her nails into the skin that quickly turned crimson as blood flowed out of the marks. It distracted her from the memories. Claire looked up and saw her best friend horror-stricken, staring at the landscape with wide eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked, standing up quickly despite her shaking legs. Then she looked around as well, realised where they were. She turned back to her friend. “Mal...I’m so sorry...”
Trixie, who was still crouched on the ground, didn’t understand. “What is it?” she coughed, but made no effort to stand up.
Mal swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to talk, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Claire said it for her. “This is where Mal’s brother died.”
“No,” Mal spat, her sadness quickly turning to anger. “This is where you killed him.” Then she walked off. She needed a minute to herself, but the park was too full of painful reminders. The worst one of all was the large oak tree that she remembered sitting underneath as she watched Felix’s life drain away. It was insane how quickly it happened, how sudden his life was gone. She hadn’t been back here since Felix died, but she saw everything differently now that she knew Claire had been the murderer. Before she could stop herself, she leaned forward and punched the tree Felix had died under. She wasn’t sure why, but the pain helped centre her focus. She walked back to the others with blood dripping from her knuckles, but refused any offers of help and kept her distance from Claire. She didn’t trust herself not to snap and say or do something she’d regret.
They decided to stay in the park until nightfall. They didn’t want to go out in broad daylight when the police were after them, and everyone needed time to recover from their mad sprint. “We should go this way,” Claire said meekly, pointing behind the tree Mal had punched. “There’s a nice thicket just behind there. People won’t be able to see us.”
“And is that where you hid when you killed Felix?” Mal said quietly.
Claire did something Mal wasn’t expecting. Raising her chin, she looked Mal directly in the eyes and said, firmly, confidently, “Yes.” Then she started walking towards the tree, hopped over the fence that separated it from the wilder land behind and disappeared. Mal and Trixie followed the sound of snapping twigs and Claire’s occasional swearing until they found a small circle of grass ringed by tall trees and bushes. They sat down and opened up their bags, looking at everything they were able to take from Mal’s house. It wasn’t much, but they hoped it would be enough.
“I need to clear my head,” Trixie said, attempting to stand on legs that were just as wobbly as her voice. “I’ll be back soon.” Before Mal or Claire could protest, Trixie staggered into the bushes and disappeared.
“Will she be okay by herself?” Claire asked after an awkward silence.
“She’s smart,” Mal told her, and went back to painstakingly organising the items in her bag to avoid conversation. It was just now that she realised Trixie was essentially the glue holding the group together. Without her, time passed in awkward silences and shy glances, accompanied by stiff and unsure movements and screaming thoughts of doubt and fear.
“Do you hate me?” Claire suddenly blurted out. Mal looked up quickly, and then when she saw Claire staring at her she looked down again. The word no instantly jumped to the tip of her tongue, but the more she thought about it the more fake it seemed, and the last thing she wanted to do was tell Claire paper-thin lies for her to hide behind. She stayed quiet, so Claire continued. “I understand if you do. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done, really I am. I don’t think I realised just how bad it was until now. But I’m trying to make amends for everything, can’t you see that?” Mal still refused to speak, and Claire’s remorse quickly turned to anger. “Okay, yeah, sure. Give me the silent treatment. You don’t know what it was like for me, Mal! I didn’t have a choice. You would have done the same, so stop pretending like you’re so much better than everyone else! If only...”
“Claire?”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”
They remained in a stony silence until Trixie returned, at which point they put on fake smiles and injected a false happiness and hope. They were both envious of the way Trixie’s optimism crackled like fireworks despite everything that had happened and the uncertainty of what was to come, although if they had looked a little closer, maybe they would have seen her dead eyes. Mal decided that she would have a nap to try and conserve her energy for the walk ahead. Using her pack as a pillow, she closed her eyes and tried to block everything out.
“Mal,” Claire hissed, grabbing Mal’s shoulder and shaking her awake.
“What?” Mal murmured sleepily.
“I think we’re being watched,” Claire said quietly.
Mal sat up and looked around, her eyes scanning the dark forest around them. “Claire, I can’t see anyone. I think you’re getting paranoid.” Even as she said the words, an uneasy feeling settled in the put of her stomach and she reached for her knife. “You should...” hands reached out from behind Claire, wrapped around her mouth and waist and yanked her backwards into the trees.
“Claire!” Mal yelled and jumped to her feet.
“What’s going on?” Trixie said, startled.
Mal grabbed Trixie’s hand and hauled her upwards. “There are people in the trees. Watch yourself.”
A twisted figure launched itself at Mal, its horrific scream echoing around the thicket. On reflex, Mal dove to the left and pushed Trixie out of the way just as the figure hit the ground and then turned to snarl at them. Instantly, Mal recognised the mark branded on his cheek. It was the same mark that Asher and Emily had. She gripped her knife tighter and stepped forward, ready to fight, but just at that moment more people launched themselves from the trees all around them. Trixie screamed as they landed with heavy thuds on the ground around them. Mal reached behind her and grabbed the girl, pulling her closer.
The frenzy that followed was like nothing Mal had ever experienced. She didn’t know where they were coming from, or how so many of them had managed to stay concealed, but every time she killed one it seemed to be replaced by two more, like the heads of a hydra. It was difficult to use her magic in such a confined space, and she ran the risk of hurting Trixie. She didn’t trust herself to not lose control in the pressure of the situation and use her Akraansir magic, which was still in dangerous and uncharted territory. She kept getting distracted, looking around her desperately to make sure Trixie was still standing, which resulted in a lot of close calls as knives grazed her skin and bullets flew overhead with the sound of whips cracking.
A voice rang out, clear and loud, somehow managing to cut through the pandemonium. “Stop fighting, or I’ll kill her.” Mal spun around, her heartbeat pounding in her ears and her breathing fast and shallow. Trixie had a gleaming, silver gun to her head as she cried softly, whimpering in pain every time the man standing behind her wrenched at the fistful of hair he had grabbed to stop her from running away. Mal’s eyes widened as she recognised who was holding the gun. It was Asher, his eyes huge and crazy in his face twisted with malice and bloodlust. He seemed to have lost a lot of weight, along with whatever was left of his sanity, since the last time Mal had seen him.
“Put your weapons and your Memoriam on the ground,” Asher said in a harsh, cracked voice. Mal hesitated for a brief second, so Asher pulled Trixie closer
to him and tightened his finger on the trigger.
“Okay, okay!” Mal shouted, raising her hands in a sign of surrender. “Don’t hurt her. Please, don’t hurt her.” Trixie tried to protest, but Asher clapped his hand over her mouth and watched with a sly smile as Mal slowly crouched down and placed her pocket knife on the floor. Her shaking fingers brushed against the soft fabric of her Memoriam bracelets, and then she pulled them off and let them drop as well. She suddenly felt heavier, more broken, as if the weight of the world had just landed on her shoulders.
Asher grinned as his eyes lingered on Mal’s belongings on the ground, and then he roughly shoved Trixie away from him. Trixie shrieked as another member of the group grabbed her. Asher walked towards Mal and then pressed the gun to her back. Mal resisted the urge to move away when she felt the cold metal against her skin, burning ice into her skin. “Move,” Asher instructed, and Mal winced as she felt his hot breath wash over her neck. The stench of it made her gag. Asher closed one grimy hand around her arm and started to guide her through the forest with his group following. Mal could still hear Trixie crying.
There was a van parked out on the street, the glaring white paint clashing brilliantly against the dull grey road. Asher threw open the back doors and made Mal climb inside, poking her back with the barrel of his gun to get her moving. Trixie tried to struggle, so they picked her up and threw her into the van, slamming the doors shut behind them. Trixie landed heavily on the floor of the van and when she looked up at Mal again, her eyes wide with fear; there was a massive gash on her head. Blood poured from the wound and merged with her flaming red hair.
Mal moved forward to try and help, but to her surprise Trixie cried out in fear and scuttled away, ending up crouched in the corner of the van with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. She rocked backwards and forwards as her wary eyes tracked Mal’s every movement around the confined space. Her quiet murmurings mixed with the sound of the engine as they drove off.