Fathom [On Hold]

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: Threat 

I cough and choke and fight with everything I have against Ash, but the kid must have at least fifteen pounds on me. I'm sure my face must be a sickening shade of blue by now.

I stretch my arm out and slap wildly, trying to notify the other two. My palm comes into contact with someone's thigh, and two seconds later the weight disappears. I gasp for air, heaving violently and trying to get as much oxygen as possible. When the blood has stopped rushing in my ears and I can think semi-clearly, I become aware of voices. 

"What the hell were you doing?" Jaycen yells furiously at Ash, of whom he has pinned down once again. A sick laugh comes from Ash, and Jaycen punches him square in the nose. Blood trickles down from both his nostrils, some of it getting in his mouth and bubbling in his throat when he coughs. 

"I'm going to ask you one more time," Jaycen hisses, pressing his knife against Ash's throat, "What. Were. You. Doing?" 

"What did it look like I was doing?" Jaycen hits him again, across the face this time and his head slams against the ground with a nauseating thump. The stretch has reopened the scab on his neck, and by now I can see more blood on his face than skin.

"This time you don't get a choice," Jaycen says lowly, and his grip shifts on the knife. The point of the blade is now aimed directly toward's Ash's Adam's apple, seconds away from being plunged deep into his neck. 

"No, Jaycen," I find myself saying, and he turns to look at me like I've grown a second head. "Don't." 

"I'm sorry, he's too much of a threat. It sucks, but it needs to be done." 

"We'll keep a closer eye on him - "

"We tried that, and it still ended with his hands around your neck. He's not worth you ending up dead. Any of us ending up dead," he adds, his eyes flitting to Saoirse. She's taken aback I can tell, but she quickly regains herself. 

"I hate to say it, but I agree with him," she says. "I don't like it, not one bit, but we have to." I grind my teeth furiously, and my stomach rolls. Ending one life just for the sake of sparing another, even if it is mine? It makes me sick. 

Even so, I can't argue with Jaycen and Saoirse. It's two against one, and my whole argument is simply the fact that I don't want to. It sounds stupid even to me. 

"Make it quick," I say through clenched teeth, and stand up and turn around. I ball my fists and my nails dig into my palms. I try to block out the sickening squelch of the knife as it slices his neck, but to no avail. Bile rises bitter in the back of my throat at the sound of his brief gasp of pain cut short by death. 

I'm disgusted. With whom or what I don't know, but it consumes me. 

I'm so far away that I jump when a hand comes to rest on my shoulder. I go lax when I realize it's only Jaycen. 

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, and I don't move. 

"Have you ever done that before?" I ask before I can stop myself. His grip tightens on me just slightly, but enough to make me notice.

"Unfortunately," he whispers. 

"Who?"

"That's another conversation," he says simply. We're silent for a while, the only things filling the air being the forest's sounds of the night and the rustle of Saoirse packing our stuff. We agree to move without speaking a single word. None of us will be able to sleep next to a body. 

"Listen," he says finally, moving to stand in front of me. "I'm not Mye. I don't enjoy killing people. I absolutely despise it, and you have no idea how much this is going to eat away at me. But I'm sorry Asmara, given the choice between him and you I'd choose you every time, no matter what the cost." It's the first time Mye's name has been mentioned in weeks. In the midst of all the chaos that had become my life I'd almost forgotten about her.