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21

21. 

The wind carries hollower voices towards us, making them feel much closer than they really are. An occasional shout, a call in the distance, it only propels me to go faster, adrenaline pumping my blood. My mind plays tricks of me; each patch of darkness we shove through I expect to skid to a halt, face to face with Cynthia. Each time we sludge through a stream I see blood, thick and red and staining the bank. But I blink and it's gone.

It's been hours since we last stopped. The sun has long descended, surrendering to the sinister moon grinning above us, creating shadows that stretch towards me as I run.

We're on foot, human form. We can't let them get too behind or they'll lose track of us. Eric and Malik lead us, Cassia and Elias pulling up the rear. My lungs burn and I'm making so much more noise than the others as I gasp for air, but I don't stop moving, I can't stop moving. Adrenaline pulses through my body like lightning, powering my legs and pumping blood to my pounding heart.

Sometimes, it's silent, only our panting breaths piercing the air. Other times, you can hear their voices bouncing off the trees—an occasional shout, an order in a certain direction. They're tracking us. And even though it's what we hoped, it doesn't ease the anxieties building in my stomach. Cassia said my old village was abandoned, but when was the last time anyone checked? I can't escape the nagging thought that we could be running straight into the grasps of those we're trying to lose.

All of a sudden, an excruciating scream echoes from behind us. Ahead, Eric stops so abruptly I nearly slam into his back. We stand in silence as Elias and Cassia catch up, skidding to a stop.

"What was that?" I ask.

"They've stopped," Malik says. "They're not tracking us anymore."

"What... why would they..." I trail off, wrapping my arms around my body as a chill runs down my spine. "What was that scream?"

Nobody answers. I don't know if that's because they don't know the answer or because they don't want to tell me. The trees overhead crowd around us, blocking the light from the moon. My eyes had almost adjusted to the light, but with three pairs of glowing eyes staring at me, everything else seems pitched black in comparison.

"How far are we from the village?" Malik asks.

"Another hour, maybe less," Elias says.

"What do we do, then?" I ask. "Just wait for them to start following us again?"

"No, we're too exposed in the middle of the forest to be sitting around twiddling our thumbs, anybody could stumble across us and we'd be too distracted by that group of hollowers to notice," Cassia says. "We should keep going. Get to the village and decide what to do from there."

"If they lose our trail this will all be for nothing," Elias says. "We can't risk that. They could go straight for our village."

"But—"

An excruciating scream cuts her off. It echoes towards us and rattles my bones. I take a step backwards, closer to Elias, and gaze around us. A thick fog is settling around us, making it difficult to see very far. Whatever that scream was, they can't ignore it twice.

"We'll split up," Elias says. I dart my eyes to him. It doesn't matter how angry I am with him, separating from Elias terrified me because of what happened the last time we split. But I press my lips together and shove the protests down.

"You three go ahead," Elias says, nodding at me, Eric, and Malik. "Get to the village and make sure it's empty, and then wait for us so we can set up. Cassia and I will track backwards, see what's made them stop."

They exchange glances but nobody protests. My heart skips a beat and I blurt, "What if there are hollowers at the village?"

Everybody looks at me. "It's been abandoned for months," Cassia says.

"But how long ago did anybody check?"

She shrugs. "I don't know, maybe before we left."

"What if things have changed?" I let out a shaky breath. The fog is thickening, swirling around us. "I don't think we should go there anymore. What if they already started planning an attack and decided to use the village as a place to gather their things? What if Cynthia—"

"Milena," Elias cuts off my rambling with a serious expression."Your old village is abandoned."

"But what if it's not?"

His eyes soften when he looks at me. My voice is small and filled with insecurity. It reminds me of the girl buried inside of me, the one who was afraid of the dark or scared to put the wrong ingredient in the stew. I feel pathetic, like being so close to my village reverts me to the person I've tried to hard to break away from.

After a few moments, Elias lets out a low sigh. "Cassia, you go with Eric. Milena, with me," he says reluctantly.

"I don't know if splitting up is a good idea," Malik says, looking at me.

"It's the best option we have." Elias readjusts his backpack and looking to Eric. "Meet you at the village."

Eric nods. "We'll make sure it's clear."

I take a step closer to Elias as they slink off in the direction we were heading, Malik looking over his shoulder at us with icy blue eyes before they're swallowed by the fog and we stand alone, silent. I take a shaky break and turn to Elias.

"Let's circle back," he says, "and I'm serious, Milena, just this once, listen to me. If I tell you to run—"

"Run," I say. "Got it."

The look he gives me makes me think he doesn't quite believe me, but he turns around and pushes through the forest. A combination of the fog and darkness makes it seem like an entirely different trail, the earth beneath us barely visible. On the way through, Elias was reckless, shoving through the bush in a purposeful way that would get noticed. But this time, he's close to silent as we move through the trees.

My heart beats like a drum. There are no voices, no screams, no blood along riverbanks, but there's a thick tension in the air lingering around making it hard to breathe.

My foot snags on a root and I stumble forward. Elias spins around to steady me, hand on my forearms. When I look up, his vibrant eyes stare into mine.

"It's okay to be afraid," he says, voice so low I nearly miss it.

"What?"

"Of going back to your village."

"I'm not afraid."

His eyes search mine; he can see right through me. After a few moments, he drops my hands and turns around. "Watch your step," he warns.

We continue on in silence as a light rain drips above. Beneath the canopy of the trees, we're mostly protected, but a lone drop slithers down my neck. Elias stops suddenly, holding up a palm to listen. I tune my ears in but hear nothing. The air is stagnant, an unsettling tension wafting around us. Then, I hear it—a laugh, closer than expected.

Elias immediately pulls me to the ground. The earth vibrates with each hammer of my heart. I crawl forward, inches away from Elias' as we settle beneath a leafy bush. "There," Elias ushers closer, parting the bush to create a small gap. "They're here."

I peer through the gap he made, my heart clutching. There are at leat 6 of them in the clearing, crowded each other and perched in a huddle. I narrow my eyes, trying to see what they've gathered around, but it's no use, they're clothed in low hanging fog. On of the hollowers stands, his back to us, and wipes his hand across his face. When he turns, my stomach tightens.

Tall. Grey hair. Long, thin scar along his right arm.

"I know him."

Elias' eyes flash to me. "From your village?"

"Garret." I nod. "He taught the children to read and write. What're they... what're they doing?"

Elias shifts closer, his arm pressing against mine. A few of the other hollowers step back, revealing a dark shape slumped on the ground where they were gathered. It's still crowded and dark fro me to see, but beside me, Elias tenses.

"Elias?" I whisper.

He turns his head slightly, horror in his eyes. A pit forms in my stomach as I turn back to the hollowers, my eyes adjusting. Garret leans down and tugs the dark shape up, right in my line of vision. When I realise what it is, my entire body goes cold. A body.

A boy, my age, maybe younger, his head slumped over.

I swallow. "Is he—"

"He's human," Elias murmurs. "Likely from the coastal village."

I look back to the boy. His body is limp, supported by Garret, but his eyes are half-open.

"What is... what are they doing?" I ask. Elias' jaw tenses but he doesn't look at me. "Elias?"

He meets my eye. "Feeding."

A wave of horror washes over me.

"Hurry up, Riler," Garret says, exasperated. "We've stopped long enough."

One of the women stands up and steps towards him. "So you're the only one who gets a taste before we go off?"

"We're wasting time," Garret snaps. "Cynthia said—"

"I don't care what she said," she scoffs. "It doesn't matter, they're headed exactly where we expected—your old village. Stupid creatures are terrible at covering their tracks."

Garret grits his teeth. "You want to be the one to explain to her why we're late then?" She says nothing. "Exactly. Hurry up. We have to go back to the stream for water and then we'll go."

My stomach churns as she turns back to the boy. I grab Elias' sleeve. "We have to help him. We have to stop them before—"

"They're immortal, Milena, there's nothing we can do," Elias whispers.

"We have the shadow—"

"You see the marks on his body? Look, there on his neck, and his arms, like puncture wounds." I follow his gaze, narrowing my eyes on his limbs. Littered along his skin are small puncture. I nod. "This isn't their first feeding on him, this is their last. There's no coming back from that."

"But—"

"He's better off dead."

I squeeze my hands so they don't shake. The woman next to Garret wraps her hands in the boys hair and lifts his head. He looks at her drowsily, expression blank but covered in cuts and bruises. Before I can blink, the hollowers crowd over him and cover his body with theirs. A scream erupts from his chest, sounding more alive than he looked, before it's muffled by a hand slapped over his mouth.

Bile rises in my throat.

I can't watch; I spin around and press my back against a nearby trunk, eyes wide and hyper-focused on the pieces of bark on the floor. This man used to teach children in the field, now he murders one in front of my eyes. The muffled screams grow quieter, weaker, but I only feel more nauseas. Hearing it is almost as bad as seeing it.

It feels like a lifetime before the clearing is silent again, but still, I don't move, my breath low and fast. I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to turn around. The hollowers are gone, the boys bodied discarded on the ground.

"We should go," I whisper.

Only silence responds. I turn to Elias. His gaze is trained on the boy, eyes far away. I put my hand on his arm and squeeze. "Elias?" His eyes flash to me, burning bright orange. "They must've gone back to the river to get water. We have to go, get to the village."

As if I haven't spoken, he stands up and walks towards the body in the clearing, kneeling down by the small. I inch closer, wrapping my arms around myself. I was wrong before, this boy is younger than me, closer to Darius in age. Elias pulls him so he's lying across his knees. He's still alive, small pants of fear as he stares wide-eyed up at Elias. There's a haunting look to him—somehow not there anymore. Elias puts one hand at the back of the boys head, brushes his fingers along his forehead. And then his eyes flash gold and he murmurs something, too low for me to hear.

They boy stops struggling and falls still, eyes closing. "Did you..."

"I just put him to sleep." Without looking away from him, Elias gently slides the boy off his lap and places him on the ground. "Now he will die peacefully, without pain."

I swallow the tears lodged in the back of my throat as Elias turns to look down at me, eyes heavy with emotion. Grief, pain, regret—I don't know if I've gotten better at reading him or if he's gotten worse at hiding it, but I can see the pain in his eyes.

"Elias?"

He blinks, as if noticing me for the first time. "Are you okay?"

I almost laugh. "Are you okay?"

The beat of silence is an answer for us both. "We should go," he says, "before the hollowers get back."

This time, we move faster, Elias leaving obvious marks behind us again. But it doesn't matter how fast we move, how far away from the body we get, his screams follow us and echo through the night, his presence thick like the fog.

Cassia told me what the hollowers did all those months ago as we sat perched over books in the library. She explained what it looked like, how painful it was, the sounds. But I could never picture the people I grew up with doing the vile things she described. Not until now. 

~

DISCUSSION:

1. Do you think Milena's old village will be empty?

2. What do you think might happen next?

3. I'm curious to hear -- who is your favourite fictional couple??


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