Still, he threads the rope through the metal hook that dangles from the strap. He tethers me to him.
But the buckle is simple, like one from a belt, something I can easily undo.
That confuses me.
Then, it’s like I really hear what he said to me.
‘I say run—you run.’
I’m meant to be able to slip the cuff.
Samick communicates that with a silent stare he lifts to me, as if he knows that the dread is sinking through me.
And he reassures that I should be worried.
EIGHT
The new cuff is soothing around my wrist. Already, I feel relief from the aches and scratches. The fur lining glides over my flesh with the sway of the rope—but it’s the only pleasant thing about this moment.
Samick’s solid shoulder brushes mine with every step.
Crammed in side-to-side, the unit moves through the darkness of the prison. All the torches are lifted, light glaring down concrete corridors, and I’m glad, for the sake of my human eyes.
Still, I hook my fingers around the swaying rope.
I bump into Samick too much.
But I don’t hear any of his curt sighs of annoyance as the narrowness of the corridor widens into a doorway. He keeps his cheek to me.
Not at all like the snarls and dark looks he once threw at me every chance he got.
Suppose he’s gotten used to it.
So am I, in a way. Like now, the back of his hand brushes mine, and even through the glove, I feel the natural coldness of his touch.
There was a time I would’ve recoiled from that.
But I recoil from the frosty winds at the end of the corridor instead.
My bones cringe at the high-pitched whistle piercing my ears, and I brace myself as we go spilling out into the cold.
Instantly, my cheeks prickle and my breath fogs in front of my face.
I don’t know why I expected the air to be calm now that the hailstorm has passed, but the muscles in my body sure weren’t expecting the beating I walk into.
Like strings lifted, my shoulders hunch against the sudden onslaught of violent winds.
The prison spits us out—and I wish it would take us back.
But even if the unit turned around and went back inside, it would only be for a few moments.
Because, torchlights are raised in the distance…
Not ours. Another unit.
One that’s marching right for us.
For the prison.
