by Ryan Casey
Martin wanted to argue. He wanted to disagree. He wanted to tell Harriet he was worried about Ella. He wanted to go in that wooded area and check she was okay.
But in the end, that voice in his head prevailed.
That calming voice.
The one telling him to believe in Ella.
To trust in Ella.
To let her breathe.
He turned around to Harriet, and he smiled.
Then he looked at Oscar and Bruce.
And then at those buildings in the distance.
“Come on, then,” he said. “You heard her. She’ll catch up with us. Let’s… let’s go find ourselves a new home.”
“If we’re taking back the castle, does that make you the king?” Oscar asked.
Martin glanced from Oscar to Harriet. Saw her blushing. Felt his own cheeks heating up too.
Harriet cleared her throat. “Let’s leave it a while before we start talking about kings, okay?”
She glanced back up at Martin. A knowing glance. And Martin felt it too. A knot to his throat. A warmth to his face.
But then he just smiled too and looked ahead.
“Let’s go take back that castle,” Martin said.
He looked over his shoulder.
Over towards those woods.
She’ll be okay. She’ll catch up. She’s fine.
He swallowed a lump in his throat.
Turned around.
And then, he walked.
Towards a new future.
Towards hope.
Ella looked at the trees up ahead and felt the warm tears rolling down her face.
The bright sunlight shone between the trees. They looked like torchlights, cutting their way through the air. There was frost on the ground. Reminded her when she was younger. Holding hands with Mum and Dad, swinging between them, landing on the crunching leaves. The memory made her smile.
And then she tasted those salty tears on her bottom lip and remembered why she was out here.
She looked down at her body. Looked at her chest. She tried to shift her attention away from the pain, but it was no good. It was getting stronger. Her body felt like it was getting colder. She felt sick. Like she wanted to throw up.
And she knew why it was.
She knew exactly why it was.
She lifted up her coat. Then her shirt. Felt the cold air against it.
And then she saw the blood, and her stomach sank, all over again.
The mark. The bloody mark. She remembered how it’d happened. How she’d got it.
Racing after Oscar.
Catching his captor.
Going to pull that trigger on him and put him down once and for all.
But that man.
He’d pushed something into her. Pressed it deep into her stomach.
And then he’d yanked it out.
And Ella didn’t know what’d happened at first. She didn’t know what was going on. Where the pain came from. Anything.
But then it hit her.
The taste of blood in her mouth.
The coldness in her body.
She’d been stabbed.
She remembered Dad finding her. Remembered Harriet finding her, thanking her. She remembered Oscar hugging her. And she wanted to tell them what’d happened. She wanted to tell them she was in danger.
But at the same time, she heard their pride. She heard how happy they were.
And she just wanted that one moment.
She’d gone to sleep in the outhouse early that night. Closed her eyes, cried herself to sleep, told herself she wasn’t going to wake up again. That it was all going to end.
But she had woken up. She was still alive. Bleeding badly, but still alive.
So she’d got up. She’d joked with Oscar. She’d played with Bruce, tears streaming down her face.
And then she’d walked down that road, the pain growing, her head spinning, the sickness getting stronger.
Right until they’d reached Lancaster.
She thought back to Dad holding her arms. She thought about what he’d said to her. How grateful he was to her. How he was going to trust her from now on.
She thought about how she nearly collapsed, right there. How she nearly fell to her knees.
But she saw the hope in his eyes, and she wanted him to feel it. She wanted him to feel that victory, even just for a moment.
She didn’t want him to lose her like this.
Not like this.
She lowered her shirt. Zipped up her coat, even though nothing stopped her shivering. She looked over her shoulder. Into the hazy distance. Towards that street. Towards Dad.
And then she felt more tears stream down her cheeks. Her legs growing shakier. Sickness gripping tighter.
She looked back there, and she thought of the happiness in his voice. The pride. The smile on his face.
And then she closed her burning eyes and smiled.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I love you.”
She took as deep a breath as she could of the fresh, crisp morning air.
And then she turned around and walked into the woods.
Blood trickling down her stomach.
Every footstep growing heavier.
Every breath growing lighter...
But that hope still strong.
For Harriet. For Oscar.
For Bruce.
For Dad.
When Martin finally turned back and raced towards the woods, Ella was nowhere to be found.
END OF BOOK 2
Dark World, the third book in the Days of Darkness series, is now available to pre-order on Amazon at smarturl.it/DarkWorldKindle
Want More from Ryan Casey?
Dark World, the third book in the Days of Darkness series, is now available to pre-order on Amazon: http://smarturl.it/DarkWorldKindle
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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any reference to real locations is only for atmospheric effect, and in no way truly represents those locations.
Copyright © 2019 by Ryan Casey
Cover design by Damonza
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Published by Higher Bank Books