Maybe I’m dead. At least her shrieks will be silent then.
“Cade!”
Please be quiet.
“Get up! Get up, Cade!”
The horrors my mind’s imagined, the screams I’m unsure were hers, don’t sound so far now. In fact, they seem right beside me. The delicate way her tone curls around me clears up the fog, allowing me to move—allowing me to see.
Rolling my eyes up.There she is.“Bunny.” Her face brings strength, enough for me to reach my arm around and meet her bleeding fingers through the links of the cage. There’s warmth in her touch, and that means she’s alive.They didn’t take her away from me…
“Fight!” she roars. But they’re taking her away now, straight to him.
Before this, my mind was a maze, twisted with dreadful thoughts of her. Now, though, now that I know she’s alive, the only thing I can think about is Culver, Hannidy, Ramirez—Marone. All I can see is red. All I can taste is their blood.
“Blade!” is shouted through the blur of words, but that crimson curtain falls heavy over my eyes. Before anyone could catch me, my hands moved faster than my thoughts—quicker than my rage. Before anyone can think, skin meets skin, and bone cracks against bone. There are roars and screams soviciously primal we’re transported to a different time, back to when there was no order, back to the hunt—eager for the kill.
When I come back to myself, the red haze is still so vibrant. There’s no time for regret. There’s no time to reconsider. The wild, uncontrollable crowd is enough of a disturbance for the guards, so I take my chance. Witnessing my girl pressed into Marone’s lap is the last bit of encouragement I need to race forward and mount the chain links.
The thin wire digs into my flesh, digging deep rivulets, carving more scars, but adrenaline prevents me from feeling a thing. Small blessings, I suppose. I take that small blessing and milk it for everything it’s worth, surprising everyone into silence and awe when I reach the top. I don’t relish their amazement. I don’t waste any fucking time hitting the ground and storming straight toward Marone’s no-longer smiling-fucking face.
Before I know it, the blades are in my hands, spinning rapidly until they stop with the tips pointed straight toward his heart. In my periphery, I spot Bunny reaching for me, her fingers extending through the air. Though I ache to do the same, even if it is only a brush of skin, I can’t let myself get distracted, not when he’s right there, finally within reach.
Pace quickening, I tighten my grip on my blade, arching them high into the air so he could feed me more of that terrified, frozen expression. I’m so focused on that, on finally giving Marone a fraction of the pain he’s inflicted upon me, that it leaves me vulnerable and open. It’s a mistake I’ll undoubtedly pay for.
When the gunshot fires, I don’t feel a thing. In fact, I’m sure whoever was behind the firearm missed, but then Marone’s face turns into the ceiling, and the warmth I felt inside from vengeance spreads across my chest. There are screams echoing all over the room, and the stomping feet of guards coming forme. Or maybe they’re running away. I don’t know. It’s hard to decipher with the throbbing in my head.
“You’re okay. You’re okay,” a voice whispers in my ear while hands press heavily on top of my chest. I’ve only felt them once before, but I have dreamed of them ever since.
I feel splashes of blood on my lips when I choke, “You… hurt?”
“No,” Bunny cries, hiccups taking over, “I’m fine.” But I can feel the gashes on her skin, the shaking in her bones. I tell my muscles to speak, to overpower the numbness falling over my consciousness, but then the pressure on my chest is gone, taking away the comfort of her with it. Instead of her soft hands, a heavy leather boot falls in place.
“AAUGHH!” I groan while Marone spits down on me. “That was really fucking stupid of you, my boy. Really fucking stupid.” With stars dancing in front of my eyes, I watch him signal with two fingers, bringing two of the nearest guards forward.
“Don’t hurt him!” I faintly hear Bunny shout while I’m being dragged away.
When the darkness takes over, and the paralysis has spread through every inch of my body, I know I have nothing to fear. Her voice will follow me everywhere.
Cade
Alow beeping tugs at the edge of my awareness, steady and persistent. I chase away the fog with a couple of blinks, welcoming the world back slowly and in broken pieces. On my back, I look overhead, recognizing the same ceiling from before. Each tile blurs into the other, fuzzy against the yellowish lights. On top of me, a weight lies on my chest, but it isn’t like the pain I remember; it’s light and isolated. Unable to lift my hands, I roll my eyes down, taking in the electrodes and tape attached to my bare skin.
I try to move, but my limbs feel foreign to me. Slow, as if they belong to someoneotherthanme. All around me, the air smells funny, alcoholic, and antiseptic—like the hospital mom took me to when I broke my foot in eighth grade. I don’t remember it looking like this when I was in here with Clara. It’s much more daunting now.
When the fog coating my mind has completely cleared, I replay the moments that led me here, not all at once, but in flashes—in moments that will keep me calm and quiet while the guards stand at the door.
Dying.
Bunny’s touch.
Clara.
Marone.
Bunny.
Dying.
