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The Sacrifice (Wicked Book 2)

Page 15

by Blaire Hammond


  ‘Hello? Anyone there?’

  Drew dove for his pack, pulling the walkie-talkie from it.

  ‘I’m here.’

  ~

  Heat rushed through Grace’s body and she felt dizzy with relief at the sound of her brother’s voice. It was as though a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and she had to bite back tears for she didn’t realise until then how truly frightened she’d been.

  ‘Have you landed?’ Drew asked.

  Grace cleared her throat, taking a moment to compose herself before answering.

  ‘Yes, stopping for a break. Moving on at 0600 hours.’

  ‘Military time? Really?’ Drew asked, and Grace could see his grin against her eyelids as she squeezed them shut and smiled.

  ‘What about you?’ She inquired, glancing briefly around at her companions who were setting up camp.

  ‘Got transportation. Moving quickly to our destination now. Hopefully in another day we’ll hit the sands.’

  Out of nowhere, the radio began crackling in Grace’s hand, and for a moment, fear took over. However reason informed her that it was only someone else joining the conversation, and she calmed instantly.

  ‘Are you all safe?’

  It was Stella, and Grace felt yet another weight lift from her shoulders as she replied, ‘yes.’

  Drew’s answer came swiftly after, and Grace could hear the relief as Leo notified them that all was quiet on their end.

  ‘We better get off air.’ Grace said after Leo finished his update. She so desperately desired to remain on air, talking to them, however she knew quick, to the point calls were safest. ‘Will check back at next landing spot.’

  Grace switched her radio off after they bid each other farewell and turned back to see a fire going, Gemma stoking it, Logan preparing the food to cook, Robin laying out blankets and Mitch pulling rope from his pack.

  ‘What’s that for?’ Grace asked, edging closer to Mitch.

  ‘A trap, to make sure if anyone tries to sneak up on us we’ll hear them first. We have the birds on guard around the bush but there is one trail in the brush there that someone could sneak up on.’

  ‘Oh.’ Grace said, her anxiety returning.

  She’d thought they’d landed in a pretty safe area, a place where no one would expect them to be. They still had a day’s flying yet to Alast but they’d made good time so far.

  ‘Well, Drew and Laura have transportation and are on route to the desert and Stella and Leo haven’t met any troubles.’ She told them as she sat down beside Logan to help with the food.

  She felt the tension in the air evaporate as her friends were able to calm their concerns.

  ‘Good.’ Mitch said before disappearing to set up his trap.

  The night flew by as they finished their meals and discussed their plans for the next day. Finally, when exhaustion truly had taken over and they could speak no longer for their voices were hoarse, they each began to settle down by the warmth of the fire to sleep.

  Mitch sat by the trail where he’d set up his trap, his back to the group, determined to keep watch for a while. Grace struggled to understand Mitch. He was quiet, though not shy. He was smart, he knew what he was doing, but he certainly wasn’t the talkative type.

  Grace’s attention flickered to Robin, curled up near the flames. He, she was beginning to understand, especially after overhearing his conversation with Gemma, was quiet, however, unlike Mitch, he was shy too. He always resorted to sticking to the shadows, reserving his thoughts for only himself due to the fact that he felt he was better at following orders rather than taking charge. He didn’t believe he was a worthy leader; he saw himself as talentless, and he only did what was necessary to scrape by. She felt sorry for him, Grace realised. Not because of his vulnerability, but because of his lack of confidence. He’d shown such courage over the past few days, despite following orders from Mitch. She felt sorry for him because he didn’t see just how valued and brave he was.

  Grace’s gaze turned then to Gemma, who’d managed to stretch out by the fire and settle into sleep rather quickly. Her scar was visible in the firelight, and Grace was struck by how much it suited Gemma. She was fierce, strong willed, beautiful and determined, and the scar seemed to reflect all that and more. Grace was proud of her friend. She’d changed a lot since her close call with death. The old Gemma would never have allowed Mitch and Robin to come with them, and while she clearly still didn’t trust them, her actions over the past days proved how willing she was to allow people to earn her trust.

  Lastly, her eyes came to settle on Logan. Her Logan. He lay on his back, hands resting on his stomach, staring up at the stars, his face handsome in the firelight. There were signs of stubble on his chin, and his hair was a wild mess, but Grace loved that most about him. His ability to remain calm yet appear so wild at the same time.

  He’d been the one to change her, though not in the way she would have expected. He’d made her appreciative of the good in her life, and he’d inspired her to be the best version of herself. She wanted to be a good person, a better person, and she felt like, when she was with him, she simply was better.

  She knew - had known for a long time - that she had feelings for him, but fear had always drove them apart. Fear of what, she could no longer remember. Perhaps the possibility of losing him? However after her close call with death, it was like she could finally see things clearly. Life was too precious, she realised, and it could be taken from them so quickly, so easily. She knew in that instant that she didn’t want either one of them leaving the world regretting never allowing themselves the chance to be together.

  She didn’t bother concealing the smile on her face as she laid down by his side, resting her head on his shoulder. His arm instinctively came around her and she snuggled in closer to him.

  That was all she needed. That was her happiness.

  ~

  Darkness was Cara’s friend, she’d come to realise. Darkness meant safety. Darkness meant peace. Darkness meant no torture.

  Cara huddled in the corner of her cell, thinking about nothing and everything. Thinking about light. Light was bad; light was someone willing to hurt her; light was suddenly down the corridor and moving closer.

  Closer.

  Closer.

  Cara curled her knees into her chest, hiding her face within her matted hair. She remained in that position for a long moment, hoping, praying that the light would pass by. But it didn’t. It never did.

  She lifted her gaze only slightly, ensuring her hair still hid her features. She could just make out the short figure of a man. No, not a man, but a boy.

  She raised her head higher, allowing her hair to finally fall away from her face. She recognised the boy. He often accompanied Erebus into her cell. But something was different. His blond hair was no longer slicked back. It was in disarray and the boy himself appeared to be… angry.

  ‘What do you want?’ She croaked through dry lips, her throat raw from screaming.

  The boy pressed his lamp to the bars so he could see down into the pit that was her cell.

  ‘Want…’ he whispered thoughtfully as his eyes glazed over.

  He was staring at her yet not really seeing her, and it was unsettling. Something was wrong.

  Cara didn’t know how to respond, so she simply glared up at the boy, her face emotionless, because she no longer had the strength to do anything else but cower.

  ‘May I return some time?’ The boy asked, a small smile creeping onto his face.

  Cara’s silence must have answered his question, for he turned on his heel and marched back down the corridor.

  Darkness swept back over Cara and she curled up in her corner, frightened, but not defeated.

  ~

  Laura sat up slowly when she woke, her muscles taking a long time to register it was time to move. She ached in places she never thought existed, however she forced herself to stand regardless. When she finally glanced around, though, she realised that Drew was
gone.

  She whirled to the bush, the camp, the track, back to the bush, panicked. The bike and his pack were still there, so where was he?

  ‘Drew?’ She called, her voice shaking with fear.

  No answer.

  Her heart pounded in her chest and she gasped for air, spinning on her heel twice more, eyes desperately searching the trees around her.

  ‘Drew!’

  ‘I’m here Ace.’

  Laura turned to the river to see Drew’s concerned face watching her. He was carrying two medium fish up from the water.

  ‘Why didn’t you answer me!’ She exclaimed.

  ‘I didn’t hear you,’ he said, slowing his approach.

  Her legs felt like jelly and she took a moment to calm her nerves as she regained control.

  Drew must have realised the fright he’d caused her, because he placed the fish on a plate and took a step towards her. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.’

  Laura nodded, sighing. ‘It’s fine. I thought someone… well doesn’t matter. Everything’s all right.’

  Drew didn’t move away, though she could see he was cautious about coming any closer. She felt awkward, embarrassed, after her display, so turned away.

  ‘So, been fishing?’ She said somewhat cheerfully as she began collecting firewood.

  Drew saw right through it, that much was obvious from the look he gave her, however he simply nodded and turned back to his catch. He stoked the fire up and began preparing the fish while Laura supplied more wood then took her time packing their bags.

  ‘Fish for breakfast. Not my first thought.’ She mused as they dug in a little while later.

  ‘We need something that will keep us going. We’ve got a long way to ride this morning. Plus, I had to up my cheffing skills after last night’s dinner.’

  ‘Is cheffing even a word?’

  ‘Sure it is. It’s an adjective, you know, like running. Hey, what’re you doing in that kitchen? Cheffing.’

  Laura covered her mouth to muffle the giggle. ‘I think that’s cooking…’

  ‘Potato, Patato.’

  They cleaned up the campsite, put out the fire with water and dirt, then washed their hands and faces down by the river.

  ‘Want me to ride for a while?’ Laura asked as they hoisted their bags onto their backs, their swords sticking out from one of the pockets, zipped in tight.

  ‘Sure, do you know the way through these back roads?’

  Laura shrugged, ‘probably not, but you can direct me.’

  Laura swung her leg over the bike, starting it immediately. It roared into life, and Laura kicked up the stand.

  ‘We’ll have to fuel up at the next available stop.’ Drew yelled over the engine as he jumped on behind her.

  She nodded in acknowledgement, then shot off down the track.

  ~

  The first desert town Laura rode into was a small place called Valac-Rough, and while neither Drew nor Laura expected to find any clues there, they decided to take a break from riding anyway. They’d stopped only once all morning at a small desert fuel station, and they needed to stretch their limbs for longer than a couple of minutes.

  Laura once again pulled up in a fuel station and jumped off to fill up while Drew did a thorough but seemingly casual sweep of the place to ensure no Enchanted were lingering.

  ‘Done. Where now?’ Laura said, emerging from the shop after paying.

  Drew searched the streets, catching sight of a small diner down the road. He wheeled the bike into a park, placing it on its stand.

  ‘What about a bought meal?’

  ‘Sounds good to me!’ Laura replied enthusiastically.

  ‘Hey, I thought you said you liked my cooking?’

  ‘Don’t you mean cheffing?’

  ‘Fine, well I was going to be a gentleman and hold the door open for you but I don’t think I will anymore.’

  The diner was small, quaint and rustic. There were a dozen or so tables scattered about, mismatched chairs distributed around them. The counter ran along the left side of the diner, display cabinets perched atop the bench.

  Laura was already staring through one of the glass windows at a warm meat pie, and Drew pulled a note from his bag and ordered two, along with a coke each.

  They took their seats at a table near the back of the diner, glancing around cautiously. There were six other people, not including the workers, sitting throughout the room. A couple drinking milkshakes and giggling, an old man reading the paper, and three middle-aged stockmen sitting around a table two down from them.

  ‘It’s a nice little town.’ Laura commented, and Drew watched her study the paintings and photographs that hung from the walls. ‘Do you think much happens here?’

  Drew shrugged, ‘who knows. Seems pretty quiet.’

  A young girl arrived then, passing out their drinks and food. They were both about to dig in when one of the middle-aged men, covered in sand and dirt, leaned towards them.

  ‘Nat much happens ere’, but I’ll tell ya’, sometin’ been happenen over in Graysmill. Dark days dey be havin’, dark days.’

  Drew’s heart was already racing in his chest.

  ‘What do you mean?’ He asked cautiously, forcing himself to appear indifferent.

  Another of the men leaned over to them. ‘Get this, a body turns up about a day ago, right? Jus’ outta nowhere, found on da’ side of da’ road. Covered in awl’ these marks, like burns deep in the skin, right to da bone, an’ no one knows who did it.’

  ‘Or what.’ The third man interjected, his voice gravelly and cold.

  Drew shivered. It was Erebus, it had to be. But what was he doing? His eyes flickered momentarily to Laura’s face, which was pale with worry.

  ‘Well, thanks for the information. We’ll… steer clear of… Graymill was it?’

  ‘Graysmill, three towns to da’ west.’ The second man replied.

  ‘Right, thanks again.’ Drew said.

  They ate quickly, desperate to leave.

  ‘It’s the same as the one Mitch and Robin told us about.’ Laura whispered the moment the door to the diner shut behind them.

  ‘Do you want to go see?’ Drew asked, though he already knew the answer.

  Laura reached the bike first and secured her pack to her back.

  ‘Lets go.’

  ~

  Erebus marched into the lab, hands clasped behind his back.

  ‘How are we coming along?’

  The Sargent straightened at his presence.

  ‘We’re ready.’

  ‘Good, let’s go, I have places to be.’

  The Sargent indicated at a Witch to proceed and the table in the centre of the room opened. From inside rose a bed, and upon the bed was a young Wizard of twenty. He was fit, healthy, and a perfect candidate for the transformation. Erebus was pleased. He stared as the boy began to wake, fascinated.

  ‘Who are you? Where am I?’ The boy asked, panic flaring in his face as he realised he was chained to the bed.

  Erebus felt giddy with pride. It could work. It would work.

  ‘Now boy, no need to worry. Here, we just want you to read these words.’ The Sargent said, his voice far from soothing.

  He placed a piece of paper in front of the boy’s face, holding it there for him to read.

  ‘What…. What is this? I-‘

  The girl appeared, grasping the boy’s head roughly and holding it straight, forcing his eyes to look at the page.

  ‘Read,’ she hissed.

  The boy began to speak, his voice quivering with each word. As he finished, both the Witch and The Sargent moved away. The Witch pressed a button which released the latches around the boy’s wrists and ankles. The moment he was free, his body began to glow with a golden hue.

  Erebus took a step towards him.

  ‘Hold on,’ he hissed at the boy, catching his eye as he rose into the sky, Gold marks twisting their way up his body in delicate swirls.

  The boy’s eyes rolled b
ack into his head and his body began to shake uncontrollable. Then the smell of burning flesh filled the room as the gold began to dig deep into his skin.

  ‘No!’ Roared Erebus, taking another step forward.

  But it was too late. The boy’s body went limp and dropped to the bed, dead.

  ‘I… I don’t understand. He was the perfect candidate. We injected him and everything!’ The Witch stammered.

  ‘Call me when you’ve made actual progress.’ Erebus growled, leaving the room and stench of the dead boy behind.

  ~

  The dim of the night was yet to fade due to the change of time zone, however the air remained cool against their skin as Gemma and her companions dismounted from their birds and led them into the trees to graze.

  They’d finally made it to Alast, and with their return came a horrific feeling of dread that seemed to be spreading through Gemma’s body like wildfire.

  ‘Hey, you okay?’ Grace asked as Mitch passed by.

  Gemma refused to appear weak in front of Mitch, especially considering he spared her a glance over his shoulder at Grace’s words, so she forced a smile and nod.

  They left the birds tied up in the bush by the beach they’d landed on and crept through the forest towards the Lost City. The forest was dense, and while it hid them well, it failed to block out the sound of voices as they approached what was left of the deserted city. They snuck to the edge of the tree line to see Force Soldiers marching about, some shovelling through the ruins, others clearing up the rubble. Enormous lights had been erected around the city, glaring down on the scene below.

  Mitch appeared by Gemma’s side, and she tensed at his sudden approach, frightened by how efficiently he’d snuck up on her.

  ‘What do you think?’ He asked.

  She raised an eyebrow with keen interest however forced her gaze to remain focused on the three men attempting to haul a slab of concrete into a wheelbarrow.

  ‘Why do you care what I think?’

  ‘You were here when everything happened.’

  ‘If you call laying on the ground half unconscious, bleeding to death, while a crazy Wicked who once walked the very halls I now live in tortured me, “being here”, then sure.’

  Mitch flinched, actually flinched, at her words, and Gemma spared a minute wondering if perhaps she’d been too harsh. She blinked several times, regaining control of her nerves, which she hadn’t realised, until that moment, had skyrocketed upon their approach of the Lost City.

 

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