The Hanging Tree. *ON HOLD*

Chapter Twenty ~ Blood Rush

Chapter Twenty ~ Blood Rush 

I took a deep breath that shook my entire body.  The image of Atlas’ skewered body was branded into my brain. I turned the tap of the cold water on and cupped my hands under the spray. I gathered as much water as possible and then leant forward and threw the water over my face, making sure I kept my mouth shut tight, so as not to drink any of the water.

‘Can we go now?’ Willow asked. She was sitting on the toilet seat of the bathroom. I had vowed not to let her out of my sight. I wasn’t about to lose two kids in the space of a couple of hours.

‘Yeah, sure.’ I whispered back. I grabbed her hand, not daring to glance at her face. The last time I had, silent tears had been streaming down her face. She didn’t have the resolve to wipe them away, so she just let them fall onto her lap. It made my heart break to see a twelve year old, who had already witnessed such pain, with such horrific events fixed in her little head. Was this what mum’s sister was like? Was this why my mum was overprotective? I walked across the room to the door, still clutching Willow’s little hand. I opened the door and stuck my head outside, peering in both directions. To the left there was nothing but on the right I saw shadows of people being thrown against the far wall. I ducked back into the room, closing the door as quietly as I could before collapsing against it. Willow sat next to me and tucked her feet under her bum, before resting her head on my shoulder. I tensed, not used to this type of affection, but then I relented and snaked my arm across her bony shoulders and squeezed. She nuzzled in my neck and her dark, dirty hair tickled my cheek. I rested my own head against hers and breathed in a sigh of relief. We were alive, and I was going to do everything to keep it that way.

A sudden jolt of the door made Willow spring up from the ground. I felt the jolt again, and a feeling of dread settled itself into my stomach. I dug my heels into the carpet and pushed against the door with my back. I started gesturing wildly to a chair that was tucked under a small table in the far end of the room. Luckily Willow understood and tugged the chair out from under the desk. I heard a singled click and whirl and immediately understood what was going to happen.

‘Duck!’ I shrieked, and thank god she had quick reflexes. She flattened herself against the ground just as an arrow whizzed past her head, piercing the window. The projected image shattered as did the window behind it. Glass exploded around us, and I heard Willow scream out. The jolting became more ferocious and I heard multiple voices.

‘The chair, Willow, the chair!’ I cried, trying to get her attention. I knew she was injured, but I needed that goddamn chair. She got up, covered in scratches and blood and dragged the chair over. The glass crunched under her feet but she didn’t notice. She handed me the chair, with a ghost like look on her face.

‘Thank you,’ I mumbled, getting up and wedging the chair under the doorknob. ‘That’s not going to hold for long,’ I said anxiously, already seeing the wooden chair bend under the pressure. ‘We have to go out the window,’ I said, realising it was our only option.

‘But what about Atlas?’ Willow asked gently.

‘We can’t take him with us!’ I cried exasperated, we both glanced over to the bed to find that Atlas’ tiny body was gone. The Capitol must have taken him while we were in the bathroom. Willow let out a muffled shriek that chilled me to my core. I tugged her to the window and helped her onto the ledge. I glanced down, and my stomach dropped. The drop was enormous and I swallowed in fear but I couldn’t back out now, I just couldn’t. I stepped out, clinging to the frame for dear life, jagged pieces of broken glass impaling themselves in my palms. A sudden bang sounded through the room, and I turned in time to see the chair snap in half and the door swing open.

‘Move, move, move,’ I told Willow, pushing her along the narrow ledge. I heard shouts coming from the room and thundering feet, and fear coursed through my veins. ‘Go, Willow, go,’ I screamed, willing her to move, willing her to do something other than just stand there and stare at the ground in horror. A hand gripped my arm and I whimpered in fright. I tried to use my other arm to grab my knife but then I wouldn’t be holding on to anything. I feebly tried to shake the hand of, but all the while it was circling my arm, stopping the blood supply and squeezing tighter and tighter.