Walking Amongst Them (Among Us, Book 2)

games of dominance

Her blood was still hot as it spilled across my hand. I hadn't thought to move it, and by the time I'd jerked it away, it was coated in the sticky red blood of a girl my own father had killed. I might have cut her throat, putting an end to her misery.

But my father had decided her life was over.

I fell back against my feet, knees digging into the ground while I rubbed my hands against my pant legs. I felt myself blinking, felt a tear escape. Just one. I couldn't muster myself to feel much beyond that. I could hardly control my breathing.

I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. My thoughts were heavy and my eyes were stuck on Polly's face, her hair had burned down to the scalp in several places. It occurred to me that this was how I'd hoped my father was going to die. In his tent, on fire, with nobody to pull him out.

I had just begun to look in his direction when I felt a hand on the back of my collar, yanking me up. I allowed it, moving easily as I forced my legs under my body and rose to my full height. I caught sight of my father's face, just a flash of the man I knew, before I was flying back towards the ground.

My face stung, and my brain felt a bit rattled. It took me a minute to process that he'd struck me, a minute in which he started towards me. I sucked in a breath and started to crawl away from him. His form blocked out the sun, casting shadows towards where I scuttled backwards in the dirt.

Looking up at him from this angle, being blinded by the sun and at a clear disadvantage, I decided that it wasn't going to be how this went down. He bent down, his large hands scooped the air where I'd been as I rolled to the side. Hands that had, at one point, been used to fix flat tires on my bicycle. I shoved the invading memory aside, focusing on the now.

Using my momentum to pop up to my feet once more, I spat out spit and blood.

My head spun. The wind blew, an icy chill that reminded me winter was still in the air. Only a few feet stood between us, and he turned to look at me, surprised that I'd evaded his attempt. I tilted my head to the side, instinctively cracking my neck and stretching my back a bit, as if preparing for a fight.

The others might have been saying something, but I didn't hear much over my rage and the years of standing in this same spot, with him across from me. I saw something like recognition flash in his face and he stepped in my direction, causing me to step back.

He smiled a bit. He didn't say it, but I could see it in his eyes. He knew, and it made this game all that much more fun.

There was a soft clicking sound, and I saw a quick flash of light before he'd started to charge at me. The knife in his hand arcing right for my middle.

So we weren't holding back.

I waited for him to take his second step at me before I hit the dirt, throwing myself between his legs. He reached down for me, and if he hadn't had the knife in one hand he might have got me. But his knife only slice down my leg, barley catching the fabric of my thin pants. I rolled away and pushed myself up to my knees.

He turned around, growling out his words, "get your little disrespectful ass back here."

I raised an eyebrow and rose to my feet, he'd been moving towards me too. I threw my hand up, releasing the dirt I'd scratched from the earth into his face. The knife fell from his fingers and he grabbed at his eyes, giving a small shout of irritation.

I danced around his frame and darted back towards the fire. He recovered faster than I thought he would, and caught me by the back of the neck once more. This time he ripped my shirt back and pulled me down to the ground. I landed heavily onto my back while my head bounced off the ground. For a second, all I saw was white.