62. Crazy Bitch

۝ Elise ۝

The witch leaves the cell with Derek and I sit up, gingerly poking my abdomen.

Its healed.

Derek’s friend, who’s name I still don’t know, told me we’d be leaving tomorrow morning to go wherever it is I have to give the testament.

He said goodnight.

It must be night right now.

I wait until I can so longer hear their footsteps. Wait until there’s nothing but my own breath that I can hear.

I don’t know if Luke knows who’s taken me, if he’s coming or if Goldstein has made some demand. But I’d rather not wait to find out.

I seize up the wall, and imagine how many times as I young idiotic teen I practiced to climb up anything. Trees, walls, kitchen counters.

I feel my lips twitch into a nervous grin, a jolt of adrenaline in my spine.

My fingers find a hold on the wall, then my feet and then I’m climbing up, each step a bit closer to escape.

I loose my footing once, and fall right back on the ground. Hissing a few choice curses under my breath, I get up and start over. Only to fall down again. And again.

Finally, after a dozen failed attempts, my fingers latch onto the gauze of the vent, holding tight.

Breathing out a shallow breath, I pull myself up enough to see it clearly.

My throat tightens at how small it is. Barely big enough for me to fit in. An old panic settles in my stomach.

You could run when they’re moving you, that fear whispers in my head, you could wait until you’re there and then escape. You could wait for Luke. You don’t have to go in there.

Taking an unsteady breath, I pull the ring out of my pocket, pressing as tightly to the rough wall as possible.

I use the thin band to unscrew the big nails at the corners.

Tossing the unscrewed nails inside the unbearably small metal pipe with unsteady fingers, I don’t know what I’m doing. Only that I didn’t climb up so difficulty and scrapped myself all over for nothing.

The lid hangs off from one screw at the top left corner.

I look inside the small metallic exit, dark enough that I cant see anything, hear my breaths echoed in it.

Don’t do this, a childish fear, ingrained so deeply it seems to hold me in place. You cant do this.

I force my lungs to work, my gaze to focus on the platinum band in my hand.

I am Elise Attwood, Daughter of Elijah and Juliette Attwood, with the blood of a beta and a rogue in my veins, made into an omega for survival. I am Elise Attwood, champion of the Alpha’s Hunt, Luna Supreme of a whole damn continent.

I am Elise Attwood, and I will not be afraid.

I scramble into the vent.

…

My head is dizzy as I crawl through the vent, my arms trembling just slightly and my breaths forced into a slow rhythm. Counting the minutes, I know I’ve been crawling for over an hour.

The ring on my finger seems to be the only thing I can feel.

I occasionally curse Zoya Goldstein in my head, bumping against dead ends and retracing my steps in this maze of metal.

I keep moving despite the hiss of pain against my knees, glancing out of the few openings I stumble across.

Its still night, though I have no idea what time it is. I need to get out of here before someone wakes up or realizes the prize mare is gone. Or perhaps prize wolf is the suitable word.

Then I see a faint light coming from ahead, the murmur of voices.

I slow my pace not to make any sound, and peer down the vent into the room below.

Three heads are standing near a big table, papers scattered over the glossy surface.

“What if they support Winters?” A bob of black hair turs towards the red head I might know

“They wouldn’t, if they’re any smart,” Zoya Goldstein drawls out “And it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“But, Alpha,” Some girl with pale blond hair waves her hands animatedly—or rather, in panic “Slaughtering them all, it isn’t as simple as—”

“Do not chide me,” Goldstein growls, silencing her “All would be how it should be. There will be only one pack. And there will be only one Alpha.”

My eyes widen as realization dawns to me.

This bitch is crazy, In my surprise and repulsion, I scrabble back.

Everyone goes quiet.

“What was that?” Goldstein inquires softly, dangerously

“Probably a rat or something,” The man in the room says

She’s quiet for a while then. I feel cold sweat start forming on my brow, my heart thundering in my ears.

“I wish for our witness to be readied.” Goldstein says “We leave in a few hours.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

Crap. They’re going to go to my cell in a while.

Alright, don’t panic, I shove down the acrid feeling in the farthest corner of my mind as I start forward again, faster than before, as quiet as I can possibly manage.

If I was above some sort of meeting room, it must mean I’m come above the basements and into the pack house. I just need to find some opening to the outside.

Scrambling ahead, and guessing my chances by peering down any rooms I cross, I’m almost drenched in sweat and at the verge of having a panic attack.

Pressing a hand down on my chest to force the air trapped in my lungs, I close my eyes against the metallic walls pressing down on me.

I can do this, the words feel false in my head, I’ll find my way out.

A dull sting further makes me aware of just how bad the situation is.

I press my hands on either side of my face and breathe in, breathe out. No, I wont be forever lost in these vents. No, I need not start screaming and no, it’ll be horrible to jump inside a random room.

A gust of cold air caresses my face, my eyes snap open.

Another gust of wind and a wobbly laugh chokes in my throat. Blinking rapidly, I start towards the direction of the wind, and soon enough I see the moonlight filtering inside from the vent at the end of the tunnel.

I peek out the best I can and wait to hear anything.

When I can detect nothing, I move back, putting my feet in front of me and kick at it.

Once. Twice. It comes off at the third try.

Gulping the fresh air like some starved animal, I scramble out, uncaring of the fact that I’m probably on the second floor of the building.

There’s no graceful way to get out, and I remember how Carolus once told me to cover my head with my arms during a fall. Never thought random stuff about training could come in handy one day.

Rolling into a ball through my fall, the wind whipping my hair up, I hurtle towards the ground.

And fall right on top of someone.

…     

This girl is definitely dead.

That’s my first thought when I realize I’d fallen right on top of a warrior on patrol, who’d probably come around to see what the metallic banging sound was about.

Now blood stains her forehead from where the gauze of the vent hit her and then I probably knoked the breath out of her when I fell.

Its still night and I have no idea where I am, or how to get out.

Looking at the unconscious girl, I realize she has the same golden brown hair as mine, about the same length too.

Well, sorry sister, I think as I start undressing her, but your Alpha is nuts and I’m out of options here.

Once I’m wearing her warrior uniform, I hurriedly put her in my clothes, pull my hair out of its braid and hope the night provides me enough cover.

I take her rifle, and start walking around the wall. Peeking around it, I find no one else. Then my eyes latch on a car.

A slow smile curves at my lips.

Seems like I’m about to go for a ride.

…

“Hey!” I stop the car with a jerk at the voice

The keys were inside, and since all Omegas are trained for driving, its no problem to drive a car. Only a little away  from the car was a huge metal gate. I hadn’t seen anyone around it.

A man walks over to me, wearing a uniform like the one I’m in, holding a rifle.

“Where are you going, Kayla?” He asks me, while I keep my head turned a bit away “Werent you on patrol?"

I swallow the lump in my throat, scrambling for words.

“The Alpha told Derek,” I start, more unsure than I’d like “To go check if everything’s ready. He didn’t want to go so, umm, he offered we switch places.”

He doesn’t say anything. My hands start to sweat on the steering wheel.

“Fine,” he lets out a ragged breath “That boy is going to be the death of all of us.”

I nod mutely, unable to believe that actually worked.

He opens the gates for me and I mutter a quiet thanks.

I’m about to go home, the thought is almost enough to make me laugh like a lunatic, the adrenaline bubbling to my lips in giddy peals.

I’m barely out of the gates when a banshee like scream reaches my ears, making my eyes snap to the side mirror, from which I see a girl who looks like me from afar.

“Jeremy you fucking idiot, she’s the witness!” she yells

Jeremy’s head whips in my direction, instinctively aiming his rifle at me.

My foot slams on the accelerator.

And then I’m racing down the rough earthen path, the jumps making my teeth clatter.

A bullet hits the back mirror, causing it to spider web, another hits the truck. But in a few minutes, I’ll be well out of their range.

As if they heard my thoughts, I hear wolves growling behind, catch the fierce predators snapping their jaws from the side mirror.

They’re going to catch up, I think wildly.

I am not going back, I grit my teeth and push the car to the fastest it can go.

Then I turn around.

I can almost make out their confusion as the wolves stop only bare feet from me.

I smirk.

And then race forward.

Howls and yelps fill my ears as the car smaks through the wolves, derails from the path and slams two into a tree. Pulling back, I make to do the same to the other when one jumps in front of the windshield, snapping its jaws.

I grab the rifle I’d put on the passage seat and open the window to swing it down in the wolves head with as much strength as I can muster.

It falls off, growling and along with the reaming three wolves, starts circling the car.

How the hell do you make a rifle work?!

Frantically I start pulling and pushing at it.

It goes off.

Shaking my bones and rigging my ears, bullets rain down everywhere and the metallic smell of blood hits me hard.

The rifle stops empty, going limp in my slightly trembling arms.

There’s so much blood, I swallow the bile rising in my throat.

Shaky and breathless, I start the car again, grateful beyond measure that the engine wasn’t damaged and that its still working.

I race down on the earthen road.

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