Barren Crossroads

Pity the Head that Wears the Crown

let her go. It was a bit naive, but Kaelie figured she could afford a little bit right now.

God she missed Jace. His gray eyes were so watchful, passionate and calm and demanding. They contained her, reminded her that she was not a monster, and she didn't have to be. She missed the press of his body against hers. A broken part of her even almost missed the tired hate that had started to appear on his face when he looked at her more recently.

She counted the seconds as they wafted by while she sat in the damp, and the dark. She counted about an hour's worth of seconds, staring up at the pit marked concrete ceiling when a scuffing sound sounded on the other side of the metal door. She sat up straighter, but did not stand. She did not want to be seen as a threat. Not yet anyways.

There was a sharp, grinding, screech as the metal door was wrenched open and thrown upwards, and a crash and it slammed into the end of its track. She blinked rapidly, and à low groan strangled it's way out of her throat as he damaged eye twitched. She wanted to appear like she needed time for her eyes to adjust to the sudden light, she couldn't afford anyone to know she was à Hunter right now. Not when she was too weak to actually be one.

She lifted a dirt smudged hand to sheild her eyes from the light and two taller shadows moved in to block it out. "Where am I? I don't understand- I thought you could help me." Her voice was small and it trembled just à little.

"I would apologize. And maybe if we lived in any other circumstances, I would," said the first shadow, the same man who'd originally spoken to her outside. "But I'm sure you've realized these aren't normal circumstances, and I cannot afford to bring any outsiders in without making sure any threats are... neutralized."

The man's voice is deep, with à hint of southern drawl to it. She nods at him. "I get it. Like I said, I'm trying to find my way back somewhere. I was attacked and I don't know how long I've been wandering. I'm sick," she said.

"We know," he responded. Then he stared at her, but didn't come closer. All she could make out was that he was tall, with dark hair and eyes, and gray creeping in at his temples and beard. He tilted his head at her. "Do you know about the Hunter raiding parties?"

Shit. Kaelie stayed silent for à moment, one she hoped he took as her trying to remember and not panic. Eventually, she shook her head. "Sort of. I've never been part of à group. Most of my family died when shit hit the fan, and I've been on my own since, just bouncing around. I heard in passing that groups weren't fairing too well."

The second man scoffed, and his light hair caught à sliver of light from the outside. "That's the nicest way to put it, if I ever saw one." He also had à drawl. They could be related- their voices were similar, even in intonation.

"Groups of those crazy fucks would come through here every couple weeks. Take most of our shit, kill at least one of us, and leave. Always threatened more if we didn't have more supplies by the next pass over. The boss came by once."

Kaelie forced her shiver back so hard she felt à muscle in her back strain. "Jesus," she said softly.

The first man nodded at the horrified look on her face, and again she found herself hoping he interpreted it incorrectly. "Yup. Some little red head bitch. Two different eyes. Just sneering around at all of us. She took the murder on herself that day. Saved my daughter from being raped, and then shot her in front of me anyway," he said in the kind of quiet voice someone uses to hide the cracks and the agony.

Kaelie shut her eyes, and swallowed harshly against the bile that flooded her throat. The sound of the gunshot cracked against the tattered bits of her mind as the memory replayed in her head. "I'm sorry," she rasped, finally.