Silent Night

by Emma Couette

  The assassins continue to advance as Jax joins me in using them as target practice. There are no screams, only gunshots and dull thuds as bodies hit the ground.

  I don’t understand why they’re not returning fire.

  Then the shadows start running.

  “They’re coming in fast!” I yell. I return my guns to my belt and pull out my swords again. This is going to get messy. I don’t mind messy. It’s more fun than clean, but don’t get me wrong; I’m not a violent person.

  In moments, they are upon us and there’s no time for regular thought; all instincts change to kill or be killed. Survive. I slip into attack mode and nothing can touch me.

  Ajax shoots at our assailants with his rifle and whoever gets past him gets to meet my blades. They cut through the fog like knives through warm butter, and their results on flesh are even better. Hardly any of the assassins last longer than thirty seconds as I come at them, blades singing.

  Lunge, parry, dodge, and thrust. One down.

  Slash, block, duck, and lunge. Two down.

  Jab, dodge, parry, backslash, and stab. Three.

  A pile of bodies lay at my feet and Jax’s bullets have created a line of shadows further out, but they keep coming.

  Then I hear a click when Jax goes to fire.

  “Empty,” he says.

  “You don’t have any extra?” I ask without taking my eyes off of the enemy.

  “Used them all. I’ll have to rely on the sword now.”

  “What about your glock?”

  “Not enough range.”

  “Great. I’ll watch your back.”

  “Same here.”

  The next wave rolls in and we jump back into the fray.

  The second wave of assassins are more skilled and I have to duel with them for several minutes before my blades find a way into a vital organ or main artery. I’m breathing heavy and starting to tire, but I don’t let it get to me.

  Other than that, I feel great. I’m in my element, doing what I’ve been trained to do since childhood, but this time, I’m doing it for the greater good. I smile as I plunge my sword through my next victim’s chest.

  Ajax is a whirl of motion beside me, never slowing, never stopping. He’s pretty good, but I’m still better. I can’t see Blake or Bast, and I don’t have time to look. I can only pray they’re holding the line. I hear the occasional battle cry from Blake that tells me she’s still alive.

  Ten minutes into the second wave, a skilled assassin manages to knock away one of my swords and I face them with a single blade. I step away from the body moments later, covered in their blood.

  Five minutes after, I hear Ajax scream beside me.

  For a second, I freeze, but then I whirl to face the direction the scream came from and my heart drops to my toes.

  Ajax is lying on the ground, his sword gone and an assassin looming over him. His glock lies just out of reach and the assassin has a sword of his own, ready to plunge it into Ajax’s chest.

  I can’t breathe, but I have to call out to him.

  Wait...

  Now!

  “Jax!” I scream. “Catch!” I throw the sword before I say the words.

  He catches the hilt in his left hand and rears up, blocking the blow that was seconds away from piercing his heart.

  I breathe again.

  Something stings my arm and I turn to face it. A woman in her late twenties faces me. She’s grinning, holding a knife. My arm is wet.

  She cut me.

  I pull my gun and shoot her.

  Then I jump into the battle once more.

  My guns drop assassins like stalks of wheat, until I too run out of bullets and I throw the weapons to the ground in frustration. I pull out my daggers and barely manage to block the blow an elder assassin aims at me with his mace.

  The battle is total chaos and I can’t tell who has the advantage, if anyone does. The only thing I do know is that I can’t keep this up much longer.

  I wonder how Blake and Bast are faring. If I’m tired, they must be exhausted. I think back to our little competitions. Blake was able to best me and that girl is like a rock. She will be fine, though I imagine her arms will be burning from swinging that hefty axe around. I worry about Bast. Sure, he’s a sharp shooter, but what happens if someone gets in close? I didn’t get to see his sword skills.

  Relax, he’s on the roof. He’ll be fine.

  I hope so.

  I sustain several more injuries: cuts to my leg, cheek, and shoulder. None of them are lethal, but they hurt like hell. I have to restrain myself to keep from using my daggers to carve up whoever inflicted the wounds.

  That is, until I lose the daggers too.

  I fall back to the train, using my throwing knives to lower their numbers a bit more as Ajax follows me. Surprisingly, he still has my sword.

  “There’s so many of them,” he pants as he comes up beside me.

  “I know. I don’t see a way out of this.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “Why? It’s the truth.”

  “Doesn’t make it any better.”

  “Neither does denying it.”

  He looks over at me, glaring. “Do we have to argue about it now?”

  “I guess not.”

  His answer is interrupted by the crackle of a radio: “All units, this is Jenson in the control room. Hold your ground. Backup is coming. I repeat: hold your ground for five minutes longer. We are coming.”

  “All right,” I say, releasing my last knife. It buries itself to the hilt in an assailant’s throat. “If he’s lying and I survive this somehow, I will skin him alive.”

  “I’ll let you,” Ajax replies.

  I pull out my axe, my last resort. “Let’s do this,” I say and we advance forward, back to back.

  In the next few minutes, I’m so grateful for my training with Blake; without it, I don’t know how I would’ve survived.

  The assassins keep coming and it feels like forever, and I’m sure Jenson and his reinforcements aren’t coming, but it’s barely been a minute and I’m tired of holding on.

  Losing my will is my fatal mistake.

  The next man who comes to challenge me is wielding a double-bladed battle axe and that’s when I know I’m screwed. The first blow he deals me reverberates up the length of my arm when I block it. Barely. The strength of the blow makes me dizzy.

  As if the man sees my weakness, he smiles wickedly and whirls his blade at me.

  I duck and watch as chunks of hair flutter to the ground.

  The monster.

  I have to move faster in order to avoid his blows, but I am exhausted and he is a fresh soldier.

  Thirty seconds into the fight, I begin to panic. It’s something I have been trained to avoid at all costs because nine times out of ten, it will cost you the fight, but it’s the one rule I’m not focused on remembering.

  He swings his axe at me and I jump back.

  He slashes at my head again and I duck but...

  It was only a feint.

  His axe rushes toward me.

  Time slows.

  The man grins and my heart skips a beat.

  No. I’m not ready.

  The blade slams into my shin, slicing through my Resistance uniform and into my leg with ease. My skin severs and the cold shock of the metal zaps through my exposed nerves as if I was doused with ice water.

  I collapse to the ground with a shriek unlike anything I have ever heard.

  The pain hits me a second later. It’s blinding, debilitating, earth-shattering agony, which increases tenfold when the man rips the blade out of my flesh with a sickening squelch.

  I scream again and try to focus on breathing in and out as blood runs down my leg, little rivulets of life leaking out.

  I can smell the iron.

  Oh Guild. Oh Guild, I’m going to die.

  I don’t want to die.

  I look up at the man looming above me, raising his axe, but I have no strength left to stop him.


  I close my eyes.

  At least make it quick.

  Then a familiar voice fills my ears. “Silent!” It’s a piercing plea and it’s followed by the unmistakable sound of a gun being fired.

  I hear a thud beside me and open my eyes to see Ajax standing over me instead, glock in hand. I let out a breath but the relief is short-lived. My body tenses in pain, every muscle clenched as if that will distract me. My leg is on fire, every inch itching and burning. A constant stabbing pain beats out a rhythm in the wound.

  Breathe.

  In and out. In and out.

  “Jax,” I gasp.

  “Shhh,” he says, kneeling down beside me, “don’t talk. The reinforcements will only be a few minutes longer. You can hold on. You have to hold on.”

  “I can try.”

  A fresh wave of pain hits me and I hiss.

  “Assassins below.”

  My shin is damp and I can’t feel my toes. He dabs at the deluge with his shirt sleeve, but it won’t be enough.

  “Jax, I’m losing too much blood.”

  He turns to shoot a few assassins who are getting too close. “Bast! Blake!” he calls out. “Silent’s hurt; watch my back!”

  Their replies sound muffled.

  Ajax rips a huge strip off of his shirt, exposing his skin. I feel the urge to blush, but it fades quickly, overshadowed by the pain and the beat of my heart, pumping my blood out, more and more by the second as it races, faster and faster...

  I close my eyes and shudder.

  “Steady, Silent,” he says. “I’m going to tie this around your leg, okay?”

  I nod.

  He lifts my leg up gently to get the strip of cloth under it, but I can’t choke back my scream. My eyes fly open, teeth clenching as he knots the fabric and pulls it tight. A gasp escapes me. I look over Jax’s shoulder...and see the enemy coming close.

  “Be-behind you.”

  He turns and shoots, and then he grabs me by the arm.

  “We have to get to the train. It’s a few yards away. Can you make it?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  He pulls me to my feet and we turn and run. He covers our retreat with gunfire. Each step for me is like shoving a molten piece of iron through my leg. There is fire in my veins.

  I reach the train and can’t find the strength to clamber in. My limbs are so heavy.

  Jax grabs me by the waist and hauls me up before turning and sending more bullets into the mist.

  I collapse against the floor of the car, shaking. I can’t breathe.

  I can’t breathe.

  “I’m going to die,” I gasp. “I don’t want to die.” Tears stream down my blood spattered cheeks. I close my eyes and suddenly, all I want to do is sleep. I can barely feel the cold sting of the metal cradling my face.

  I hear footsteps approach, followed by Bast’s voice. “She doesn’t look too good, man.”

  “Damn,” Ajax snaps, “the tourniquet came off. You got something I can use?”

  The sound of ripping fabric.

  Then cool hands against my leg.

  Searing pain.

  I scream and my eyes fly open. Ajax kneels over me.

  “Sorry,” he gasps. “I’m so sorry.” He’s crying and I can see the terror written in his eyes. I’m going to die and he can see it too.

  “No,” I whisper, “I’m sorry. Sorry I...couldn’t stay.”

  “No. Don’t say that. Don’t you dare—” He stops. Then he takes my hand in his. I never noticed how well they fit together. “Silent, you’re not allowed to give up. You haven’t done what you set out to do. The Charger is still out there.”

  I barely register his words, but I try to hold onto his voice.

  “I can’t. It hurts. Sleep.”

  My vision is blurry and I can’t feel my legs. Sounds are muted. Gunfire rings against my eardrums as if miles away.

  “You can.”

  A moment of silence and then, “Bast, I need you to go help Blake guard our backs.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What does it look like?”

  Jax’s hand slips out of mine and I can feel myself fading out of focus, until his hand moves to my leg and presses….

  Fire rages and I scream and I scream…

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

  There is nothing but the pain. Nothing but the fire. Nothing but the edge of a cliff, beckoning me to fall…

  I feel myself slipping.

  “Stay with me...Bast...watch the…Silent…”

  For a second, I’m falling...but no!

  My eyes flutter open and I see Jax bent over me, covered in blood, sobbing.

  “Please,” he whispers. “Oh God, please don’t take her from me.”

  I’m too far gone to recognize his pleas as a prayer.

  “I’m sorry,” I breathe. “I wish...we had a chance.”

  I close my eyes again and drop into the sleep that beckons. It promises freedom from the pain and the things that haunt me. I go willingly.

  A weight settles on my chest and the voice ceases.

  My last memory is a flash of light beyond my lids and the whispered words of, “Come back to me. I’ll wait for you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The first thing I notice is that I can feel my toes. I take a breath, and then another. A slow methodical rhythm starts again. Silence echoes in my ears instead of the ringing from before.

  “Quiet now. She’s stirring.”

  “Oh my God.” The second voice is a familiar one.

  “Maybe it’s not a good idea to have the boy in here.”

  “No. I have to be here when she wakes up. She’ll want to see me. Besides, she’ll be reluctant to trust you. She might cooperate if I stay. Please. Don’t make me wait outside.”

  “Okay, I’ll allow it for now, but we'll need space to do our job. You can sit in the chair next to the bed while we check her over. Clear?”

  “Perfectly.”

  “Good.”

  I hear footsteps coming toward me and feel a presence settle down in a chair I assume is beside me.

  Something touches my hand.

  I flinch.

  “What did I do?” the familiar voice asks of the other.

  “It’s okay. She’s responding to your touch. Talk to her; she can probably hear you.”

  “Okay. Um...” The voice pauses before going on. “Silent, it’s me. It’s Ajax. I... You gave us quite a scare there. We thought we were going to lose you...but you survived. The Resistance nurses fixed you up right good. You might have a limp in your right leg for a bit, but they say you should be good as new within the month. I... I feel kind of stupid talking to you like this. I’m still waiting.”

  Those three words send electricity jolting through me.

  It’s time to wake up.

  It’s time to tell him the truth.

  I reach deep within myself and open my eyes to reveal Jax’s deep blue ones staring back at me.

  “Oh my God,” he breathes. “She’s awake. She’s awake!”

  People bustle all over the room at the news and I just stare at him, unable to peel my eyes away, lest I fade once more. Jax is my anchor, tethering me to this world.

  “Hey,” he says, “did you hear everything I said?”

  I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

  “Good.” He pauses. “You think you could do me a favour and never scare me like that again?”

  I smile. I’m so happy to be alive. I’m so happy I get a second chance, that we get a second chance. Almost dying taught me that he was right. I don’t want to die without at least exploring the bond we have. I can’t die happy without ever experiencing love at all.

  “I’m sorry,” I say softly in answer to his question.

  A single tear escapes his eye. “You don’t have to apologize just... God, try to be more careful.”

  “I wasn’t finished,” I chide him. “I’m sorr
y I tried to leave without telling you.”

  He frowns. “Telling me what?”

  “Jax, I’ve been lying to you about how I feel, lying to myself. I said before that you’re the only thing that makes sense and instead, I gave you excuses because I was afraid. Guild, I was so stupid...”

  “Hey,” he interrupts me, “we don’t have to talk about it right now. I said I will wait for you, and I will. You should save your energy. There will be lots of time to...”

  I reach a hand up and cover his mouth. “I’m tired of waiting, Jax,” I tell him.

  His eyes go wide the moment he finally wraps his head around what I’m saying. “You mean...? You want to...? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, now shut up and kiss me,” I snap.

  He does what he’s told.

  Our lips meet and an electric current zaps through my body, setting me on fire. I kiss him back, urgent, breathless, like I can’t get enough.

  Now this is something worth dying for.

  His hands tangle in my short hair and I reach up to wrap mine around his back.

  More. More. More. My mind repeats the words over and over, in tune to my beating heart. And then...

  My heart monitor screeches.

  We jolt away from each other as if shocked, remembering our surroundings, remembering we have an audience.

  “All right, that’s enough of that,” the one nurse says. She’s wearing a baggy blue outfit with owls printed on it, her dark brown hair pulled up in a tight bun. The laugh lines on her face suggest she’s older than Jenson. “As you said yourself Mr. Forrester, there will be lots of time later. Right now, I need to check your girl over to make sure she’s going to stay alive.”

  I blush and she shoos Ajax back to his seat beside the bed.

  The nurse checks my vitals and, judging from her facial expression, everything seems to be in order. She continues her work in silence.

  “How long have I been out?” I ask Ajax after a minute, turning my head to face him. I fight to keep a goofy smile from creeping onto my face.

  I just kissed him. We did that. It was real.

  “A couple of days; they’ve kept you sedated,” he replies. “Don’t worry though, you haven’t missed much. The city’s been rather quiet actually.”

  “Strange,” I remark. “The assassins are definitely up to something.”