Honey and the Hatchet

Chapter 10: Solar

The contact feels like an explosion of light behind your lids. Like you're two steps away from a migraine, when everything goes white. You feel no pain. There is no discomfort. Only confusion, and excitement in it.

You don't get much more before you're pulled back into someone's chest. You scramble to find your balance again. Your feet feel disconnected from your body. Head feels too heavy. Hands feel almost numb. It still feels like the wind is trying to take your breath right out of your lungs. Do your best to cover your mouth. The piercing green eyes follow you the entire way, but the woman doesn't move. And you aren't quite certain why, with so little information, you know it's a woman.

"Skye."

The way she speaks your name sounds like the wind carries it. Soft, almost filled with static. Pulls the bandana down on her face. You see a tattoo on her neck, peeking out through the top of the fabric.

She only extends a hand out to you. Doesn't move, but doesn't say anything else. Doesn't seem to even hear Jane. Neither do you; whatever he's saying is buried by the sound of the wind, your thrumming heart and the sound of your name ringing in your ears. The spell breaks when you hear faint shouting behind the woman.

Mr Jane stops speaking. The woman freezes; there's a distinct change on her face. You notice now the crow's feet by her eyes and the deep grooves of smile lines by her mouth. She doesn't turn around. You have a second to decide what to do. You can feel the adrenaline flushing through your system. Your muscles tense. Though your body still feels nine kinds of too heavy, you begin to dig your feet into the sand-ground.

"Skye, don't," is what Jane whispers in your ear. The woman reaches for the beachwood door to pull it shut. You can hear clearly now. There is definitely a woman in there, somewhere, who does not want to be there.

The ground has too much give for you to properly dig your feet into it. You get no traction. Fight against the grip Jane has on you. His fingers dig into your upper arm, in your shoulder. Lose your footing and hand knees-first into the sand-covered ground. The door shuts against the stone with a deceptively quiet sound. Scramble for purchase in front of you to try and run toward it.

"If I don't—someone has to do something, Jane! You can't, and I—"

"You what? Have the powers of the Great Beyond to help you, Skye?" Jane's tone is cold and calm. The quip barely bothers you. That isn't what's important.

"I don't care! We're here and someone needs help! What was the point of coming here if we don't fucking do anything?!"

"The point was to learn, Skye! Not get yourself killed like an idiot!"

His outburst feels like a slap in the face. Only now you notice you're crying. You let out a frustrated shriek. Stand up, pace, pull at your hair. This is ridiculous. This is stupid. There is literally only something you could barely call a door between you and a crazy serial killer. She was caught off guard. You have the upper hand. You have the upper hand!

You pull your bag in front of you and rummage through it. Look for keys, pens, anything pointy or sharp to use as a weapon if you need to. Jane can see your train of thought. You know he doesn't like it. But there's something in his demeanor that makes you stop. Bring the strap of your bag over your head, and drop it to the ground.

"You have a gun." It's 99% a statement, but you aren't entirely sure.

"I'm not giving it to you, Skye."

"You don't have to!" You gesture wildly at the "door" behind you. "Come with me, for fuck's sake! Lisbon or whoever the hell is on their way won't make it here on time! That girl's probably already dead because of your stupid ass dithering!"