Killer Empire

Chapter 08

AMBER FLAMES CREATED heat that made the dry branches crackle. Sparks in the form of small specks of gold flew into the night with the aid of the breeze, drifting over their heads and into the dark, eventually dissipating into nothingness. The small fire brought much-needed warmth to their cold bodies. However, it also brought about an air of danger and a fear of getting caught.

Devora shivered.

She knew that it wasn't a good idea to light a fire when there were still people out there hunting them down. The light from the fire was a beacon that could draw their enemies to their exact location. Yet, because of her injured leg, she was in no position to keep moving and Nathan needed rest from carrying her for long distances. With such a weak body, and on top of that an injury, Devora was practically turning blue from the cold. She desperately needed the warmth.

"Are you sure it's okay to light a fire?" She asked again, voice timid.

'We'll get caught,' she wanted to say. Yet, she pursed her lips tightly, changing the next line. After all, it was her fault that Nathan had to start a fire. If he hadn't found out she was practically freezing to death, he would've just let the hours go by without a fire. He seemed more than capable enough for that.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she said, "I'm not that cold, actually. Maybe we should douse the flames. We can't be sure how close those guys are to finding us."

Under his breath, Nathan snorted unceremoniously.

"You'll die of hypothermia if we do that. Your lips are practically blue already." Before she could squeeze in a word of rebuttal, a jacket was thrown her way, smacking onto her face before she tugged it off with a frown. "Put it on," Nathan instructed. "You need it more than I do."

Devora hesitantly reached out, grabbing hold of the jacket with quaking fingers. She held the fabric, fists clenched tightly around it before eventually shrugging it on as best as she could.

All the while, she was careful not to move her leg too much. Even the slightest of movements brought about an immense surge of pain. It felt like a thousand knives were constantly digging into her flesh, scraping at it to draw blood. However, in reality, it was just one small wound. It was something someone like Nathan probably wouldn't even have batted an eyelid at if it were on him instead.

Once again, Devora was reminded of the vast difference between both of them. While Nathan was a sturdy rock that had endured years of harsh rain and storms, Devora thought of herself as a weak spring bloom. If a boot had stepped over her, she was as good as gone.

Edging closer to the fire, Devora tried to get as close as possible without burning herself. Her arms were stretched out, fingers nearly grazing the tip of the flames, eyes watching the red flower dance intensely as her breaths slowed down to match. She was mesmerized by the dazzling glow, its warmth sending her into a dazed state, like a moth charmed to the light that would soon end its life.

Seated a distance away, Nathan began to tally his supplies, counting whatever leftover portions of food rations they had as well as medicine. Once he was done, he moved onto his mini collection of firearms. He had four pistols stored away somewhere on his body beforehand, now all laid out on the forest floor. With a cloth in hand, he wiped the dirt off of the one he had used earlier on while they were escaping the group of thugs.

Every time he looked up from the task at hand, Nathan would catch Devora staring. She quickly looked back down but the surprised expression on her face couldn't be missed by Nathan's keen, trained eyes. His lips quirked into a brief smirk before returning to wiping down his weapons.

Above the two, the stars dotted the heavens in an incredibly majestic manner. Imaginary lines connected the burning lights, forming splendid drawings that came to life with the use of imagination. It was as if the gods had placed great detail when drawing out the dots in the skies, planning for them to meet ever so beautifully. They formed images that would come alive, seen even by the blind when their stories were told.