Childish War

Chapter 2

I left without a word to either Pike nor Ailis. She was right. Before we knew it, daybreak had snuck up on us. I glanced at a filigree clock on the wall as I passed through a hallway on my way back. Though it was still quite dark, I could make out the stouter hand reaching toward the elegantly-constructed number five. Needless to say, it was reaching five in the morning. I scowled to myself as I knew I should've left by four at the latest.

I crept up the staircase, glad my journey was almost over. I wondered if I'd see Pike soon and if I'd have the courage to decline without bold-mouthed Ailis doing the talking. If I did end up meeting him, he would be bound to ask again because I left without providing an answer for myself. Staying close to the wall, I peeked around the final corner. To my luck, it was dark and vacant as ever. I continued to the office that housed my desk hideout. As always, I twisted the door knob with caution, as if it would squeak if not handled properly— because it would. Loudly.

My eyes locked with another pair of eyes across the room. I froze in place, wondering if I should reach for the rifle I had forgotten about until now. The person mirrored me and my expression, so both of us were waiting for the other to move.

My brother remained silent, fear in his eyes. He silently backed away from my desk hideout, obviously carrying a huge bulk behind his back. Did I just walk in on a robbery? I couldn't find words. The shock of running into another, possibly dangerous, person took over. I couldn't move.

He made a run for it. He hopped over the desk and pushed me out of his way like a rag doll. With the physical contact, I regained my motor abilities. Naturally, I ran after him for about ten meters until I realized I couldn't run. My knees buckled underneath me and I cursed myself for being so weak. I could only watch as he made his escape. He carried all of my life's earnings away and I knew I couldn't do anything to stop him. Or could I? I clumsily fumbled for my rifle and pulled in it front of me. I leaned into the scope. Aiming for my brother, I placed my index finger on the trigger.

Bang. I shot at him as if my belongings mattered more than his life. I shot again. And again. Whether by luck or misfortune, my bullets grazed his clothing and lodged themselves into the floorboards. My arms shaked with nervousness.

The boy looked back wide-eyed. All of the blood drained from his face. Nevertheless, he continued running. He wasn't the type to freeze out of fear, like me, but rather continue on uncontrollably and uncoordinated. I suppose it's an actual decision when it comes to fight or flight.

I fired my last shot as Greyson rounded a corner. I hadn't managed to land a single bullet in him. I heard a distant, muffled sound of someone running down the stairs where he had disappeared to. He didn't sound injured, anyway.

Catching my breath, I swung the rifle behind me. I was surprised that I even thought about using it, and even executed the thought without hesitance. Though all of us were taught the basics of firearms during initiation, I never put the practice to use. In fact, I had avoided it for much of my life because of the sound the gun made. Loud sounds had the tendency to attract Daylight Siblings.

Daylight Siblings.

I froze. I panicked internally, unsure whether to run or hide. My gunshots were definitely loud. The short-lived proudness of my decision was overshadowed with the dread of attracting unwanted attention. I had to hide. Or run. My indecisive nature told me to stay in a limbo between one and the other. So I stayed there, frozen with fear. My breath soon grew raspy.

"I think they were from upstairs!" I could hear shouts in the distance. Many voices simultaneously agreed, and the sound echoed throughout the hallway.