Crux Year

Chapter Twenty-Five - Royal

"Run," Mr. Preston mutters. "I'll do what I can here."

The idea of leaving the man my dad loves alone to deal with wild men who eat people does not sit well with me.

"I'm not leaving you," I clip out.

"Me neither," Shay whispers in a shaky voice.

Dad Morgan and Shay's dad Spencer flank us.

"We fight together, babe," Dad Morgan says. "Leave no one behind."

Babe.

If we weren't being stared down by a creepy, naked blood-covered guy who thinks we're food, I'd be amused at hearing the endearment. For as long as I can remember, I don't recall Dad Morgan ever having such an affectionate tone in his voice toward the man he loved. Dad Vince wasn't exactly easy to love. Rigid and cold and cruel. The way he called Mr. Preston, babe, though was warm and happy.

"We don't want any trouble," Mr. Preston calls out. "But we're not letting you come any closer either."

The bearded man makes a click of his tongue and several more men rise from the underbrush while a few land with soft thuds from the limbs above. How many of them are there?

Each and every one of them holds some sort of weapon. I'm feeling defenseless with just my fists. Shay's smaller than me and doesn't seem like he could take any of those men. Dad Morgan shoves a knife at me and then passes one to Shay.

"Whatever you do," Dad Morgan murmurs, "don't let them take you."

"It's a death wish if they do," Spencer chimes in. "They'll have you disemboweled before they make it back to their camp wherever it may be."

The leader takes another step forward, baring his gross teeth at us. They obviously know nothing of dental hygiene. Then, without warning, they charge for us. Twelve or so men to our five. Terrible odds.

Mr. Preston fires off a few shots, one nailing one of the guys in the throat. Blood shoots out as he gargles and howls, clutching at his neck. Several of the freaks get distracted by the blood, pouncing on their wounded man. Rather than staunch the bleeding, the start hacking at him with rocks shaved into sharp points.

Oh my God.

They're going to eat their friend.

A spear whizzes past me, the whirring sound so close to my ear I'm surprised it didn't take it off. Mr. Preston continues to fire at the approaching men, but they're beginning to spread out—those who haven't stopped for a lunch break—and coming at us from all angles. Me and Shay turn our backs to Mr. Preston, readying ourselves for the ones trying to sneak in from behind.

"Get back," Shay barks out, swiping his knife through the air. "I'll gut you if you come any closer."

One filthy freak ignores his warning and charges anyway. Before he can reach Shay, I tackle him to the earth. He manages to graze my ribs with his rock knife, ripping the material of my shirt. We grunt as we wrestle for the upper hand. I flip him onto his stomach, pinning him, unsure what to do next.

Do we have any rope?

Before I can figure out my next move, another disgusting freak attacks me. He knocks me off his friend, and subsequently knocks the air out of me. Before I can catch my breath, he's dragging me away.

Don't let them take you.

I scramble, searching for my knife, but I must have dropped it. Panic seizes me. I'm going to die. I'll be this crazy dude's next meal.