Writing on the Wall

My hand shoots out and I take his arm firmly. I meet his eyes, absorbing the anger rightly seated there and letting it burn into me. I let it teach me a lesson as it aches. I let it school me in never throwing a punch I don’t care to see land.

“I’m sorry.” I choke out. “I was wrong.”

And I don’t know which of us is more shocked to hear it.

Chapter Ten

Ryan wants to start meeting on the regular. He asks if I’ll meet him in the woods in the clearing where they killed the buck, but the memory of how deftly they cornered that animal and slit its throat open on the forest floor gives me pause. Years of conditioning scream at me and I find that even though I want to meet with him, I can’t do it. I can’t completely shake the idea that he’s bait on a lure and I’m falling for it hook, line and sinker. He’s disappointed when I tell him no. He’s also a little a

He kisses me goodbye when he goes. It’s short and sweet and full of promise. It’s a lot of things I don’t understand, things that scare the crap out of me, but it’s also nice. Knowing he’s out there and that he knows about me, thinks about me, is insane to me. It’s like being split in half and existing in two places at once. It’s disorienting. It’s also exciting. I’m here in my home high up above the streets, but I’m also out there with him in the wild ru

I’m present and so full. Like hidden music on a rooftop.

So of course I’m happy. I’m alive and happy and awake. Blindingly awake for the first time and when I see a message on the wall a week later, I’m smiling when I answer.

Mornin’, Beautiful.

I miss you.

How are you?

I’m waking up.

“It is pretty early.”

I spin around, my hand going to my ASP but I’m too late. The man behind me slams me into the wall, pressing my back hard against it until I feel like crying out in pain as the rough edges dig into my skin through the thin material of my jacket. But I don’t. I don’t cry and I don’t scream. I take deep, calming breathes and I assess my situation.

It sucks.

The guy walked up behind me from down the street where I can see the silent rolling Colonist vehicles parked in the middle of the road. There are two of them, one with its back doors wide open and the other locked up tight. I count at least four other Colonists milling around the street and poking their heads inside buildings. They’re looking for others that must be with me because I couldn’t possibly have been alone. How would I have ever survived on my own?

“Where are—ooh!”

The guy doubles over in pain as my knee co

The Colonist’s cry grabs the attention of the others and two come ru

I swing the ASP and crack it down on the wrist of a man reaching out for me. It breaks it easily and he cries out louder than Crotch Shot back at the wall. I sprint for a small alley just across the street hoping I can make it in and up the fire escape before they can get me. If I can do that, they’ll never catch me. I know how to jump between the buildings from here for ten blocks easy. It’s not something you do if you don’t have to and certainly not something you try if you haven’t practiced. They won’t follow me, I know it.

I’m heading into the alley when a hand grips the back of my jacket and yanks me off my feet. My attacker easily lifts me up then slams me down on the ground face first. I have to throw up my hands to keep from breaking my nose on the asphalt and my ASP flies away from me, skittering through the darkness and into a pile of dirt and rubble. I’d have to search to find it and time is not a luxury I have anymore.

“Are you go

“Rick, you got her?” someone calls from down the street.

“What do you think, kitten? Do I got you?”

“Yeah.” I say, feeling my knife’s sheath digging into my hip bone as I lay on the hard ground. “You got me.”

“Good girl.” he grunts.

I’m pulled up onto my feet and he pushes me in front of him, still holding onto my jacket. Perfect.

“Let’s go.”

“Okay.” I agree meekly.

I grab the zipper on my jacket, pulling it down hard and fast. The second it releases at the bottom I throw my arms back, shrugging easily out of it and out of his hold. He gives a shout of surprise and frustration, but I don’t care a thing for him. I’m ru

“Get her inside, now!” a voice beside me shouts. “She’s bleeding. It’ll call the Risen straight to us. Let’s move!”

I’m being pulled toward the back of the van and the gentle hand is starting to irritate me. I pull against it but it latches down harder, forcing me forward.

“You don’t want to be out here dizzy and disoriented when the Risen show.” the guy says calmly, sounding unreasonably reasonable.

“And unarmed.” Rick says from behind me. I recognize his voice and smug tone. I also recognize his hand on my ass as he shoves me toward the van.

“Not unarmed.” I murmur.

I gather every ounce of clarity I can find inside myself and unsheathe my knife. I turn quickly, bringing up my hand as though I’m going to slap him. He grabs it easily, laughing in my face at my feeble attempt.

“Kitten has claws.” he chuckles.

I sink my knife into his thigh. He was too distracted with my hand and deflecting the slap, he never saw it coming. His eyes say as much as the pain registers. While he’s distracted by the knife in his leg, I thrust my head forward and up, straight into his nose. It breaks and bleeds into my hair but I don’t care. His shocked, bloody, broken face is worth it.

“You bitch!” he exclaims as he inhales sharply.

I’m tossed into the back of the van carelessly. The last thing I see before they close the doors isn’t Rick’s mangled face or the concerned face of the guy with the gentle hands who sorrowfully tells me I shouldn’t have done that. What I see far off in the distance, up high at the top of a building, is a flash of reflected light. Small and precise, like the mirror in a woman’s makeup case. It casts a beam of light directly down on my face making me wince. Then the doors slam shut and it’s gone.