They just watch.
I canfeelthe intensity of their empty gaze.
I hear Sanford’s wheezing breaths as he tries to catch up to us.
Fear chokes me, but I force myself to turn away from our stalker.
Sweat drips along the back of my neck, around my scalp, across my chest.
Between my fingers and Sullen’s.
We keep going.
I know we are still being watched, but not pursued.
They are letting us go.
For some reason, though, this time,Sullenglances over his shoulder, even when no one calls out his name.
I don’t know yet if he saw the person in a mask, or if he’s just trusting me, but whatever he seesnow…a whimper leaves his mouth.
It’s more frightening than laying eyes on our hunter myself.
What could make Sullen afraid?
A scream lodges in my throat as I feel a whip of wind a moment later, then the blade arcs through the air, only to land in the tree ahead of me, the black handle quivering with the force of the throw.
Sullen falters and both of us come to a sudden, frantic stop, his hand gripping mine so tightly it feels as if my fingers might snap.
I don’t think about it as I stare at the knife, large, like a butcher’s.
I think the hunter missed on purpose.
I blink, afraid to wonder why. To ponder if they have a worse weapon. A gun, maybe. Perhaps an entire arsenal of knives.
Sullen takes a step toward the tree, dragging me along with him.
Not far behind us, I hear Sanford’s steps crunching over leaves.
The handle of the knife has stopped quivering. Only the sharpened tip is caught in the trunk of the tree, revealing something streaked across the blade.
I think it’s crimson, although it’s hard to tell in the dimness.
It doesn’t matter.
My silent scream morphs into laughter.
I feel unhinged.
I know maybe we should duck, or run faster, or change direction, but we do none of that.
I reach out and yank on the handle with force, freeing the blade from the tree.
Sullen’s grip doesn’t loosen on my hand.
I curl my fingers around the warm handle, knowing it’s so from the person who threw it.
The plague mask.The evil doctor?
