The Second Son - Jack Avery

Chapter One: Run

There was a candle sitting on the table and that was the only light in the basement. It was barely enough for us to see, but I managed. I'd redressed Jonah's wound enough times that I was mostly doing it by feel now. In the flickering candlelight, I could at least see that the cut on his shoulder was closing despite our lack of supplies. I gently cleaned the wound with a rag and some alcohol the family upstairs had given us. Jonah stiffened when I touched the rag to his shoulder, but he didn't say anything.

The cellar we were currently hiding in was clearly intended to store food during the winter. It was much smaller than the main floor of the house and it was completely dug out of dirt. Some canvas had been laid down on the ground for the sake of our comfort and the family upstairs had carried down a small table and a few chairs for us to use. Jonah spent most of the time sitting at the table. That was partly due to his injured shoulder and the fact that he was just barely too tall to stand up straight down here.

Jonah's eyes were on Zach who stood on the edge of the room. Zach had positioned himself at the bottom of the stairs leading down into the basement. He leaned slightly forward as if that would help him hear what was going on upstairs. So far everything was quiet, so there was really no need for him to listen in. He kept his hand on his belt where his favorite gun lay waiting. I glanced at him and then back at Jonah as I began re-bandaging Jonah's injured shoulder.

"Will you come sit down?" Jonah said finally.

Zach looked over at us briefly before looking back up the stairs. Jonah's voice was tight and laced with frustration. He narrowed his eyes at Zach, but I was the only one who noticed how he was slightly shaking. He'd been shaking a lot more lately and it seemed like he was always sweating. Even though the wound was healing, I wondered if an infection had already taken hold without us noticing.

"The last time I sat down, you were stabbed in the shoulder," Zach muttered. He placed one foot on the bottom step. Zach didn't even look at Jonah and that only frustrated our older brother more. Jonah leaned forward to catch Zach's attention, but I pushed him back into his chair.

"You're leaving out a very long list of events that happened between you sitting down and Jonah being stabbed in the shoulder," I said quietly and looked over at Zach. His expression softened when I looked at him and he gave me a small smile.

"Still," he said quietly. His eyes looked at me and Jonah. He always looked affectionate when his eyes were on me, but that affection was tainted with concern when he looked at Jonah's shoulder. He pressed his lips together and turned back to the stairs. "I'd rather not risk another stabbing. It's already gonna be hard enough getting you to Corbyn in one piece and it won't be any easier if Jonah and I are incapacitated."

I looked Zach up and down now that I'd finished with Jonah's shoulder. He was wearing the pants from his old army uniform. He'd been wearing them for several days now. There was mud on the cuffs and a hole in the knee, but he didn't have anything else to wear. I remembered a time when Zach was always the most stylish of the three of us. He never wore the same outfit twice and it seemed like our tailor was always bringing something new to him. But now he was left in his army pants, a tank top, and an old sweater that wasn't as soft as it used to be.

Looking at him made me miss the clothes I used to wear. I'd loved walking through our gardens in flowy dresses and putting on lots of glittering jewelry before dinner. Now, all I had was durable pants, a single soft t-shirt, and a flannel shirt to wear over that. I only wore boots and my hair was constantly pulled up. I didn't necessarily feel beautiful or feminine anymore.

As I looked at our haggard appearance, I wondered what our plan was once we got to our destination. We were expected to look a certain way when we arrived and we definitely did not have the resources to pull that off.