Lucky and the Killer ✔

Clueless

The room spun in and out. King laid against the table watching his dark blood drop down the wood. He was going to bleed out if he didn't do something. He needed to get Lucky. He knew exactly where she was. It was the same place she'd ran off to the last time she got mad enough to slap him.

"Lucky," he whispered, but he couldn't get his voice to call her loud enough.

He groaned as he slid further into the floor. The blood slid with him. The walls of his little house blurred in and out. He thought, for a moment, that he'd heard Liz in the other room. He'd been in that house for as long as he could remember—even when they were little. The kitchen floor cradled him like a mother, and even he felt like he would pass out.

"Liz," he whispered and shook his head. "No, you're dead. I've got to...got to...sit up."

But, his body wouldn't move for him. All of the willpower in the world wouldn't make his bones move. He stared up at the ceiling until it looked like tiny dots—bouncing and weaving together like air molecules. He shut his eyes, and with all of the strength he had left, he yelled her name.

"Lucky!"

In the distance, behind the house, Lucky stumbled. She clambered up through Liz's old garden, past the small lake, and up the hill that hid her. She dug her fingers into the dirt and climbed back up from her hidden sanctuary. Something was wrong. He'd never sounded like that before.

"King," she whispered. "I'm coming!"

When she got to the house, she fell against the shelled side paneling to catch her breath. She pushed the door open, and when she saw him laying in his own blood, she screamed.

"No, no, no," she whispered as she ran to him. She pulled his body into hers, but she didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to stop it. He was hurt, and he was hurt bad. "What do I do?"

"Lucky."

"Zee!" she screamed. "Bella! Help. Please, somebody help. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, King. I shouldn't have. I'm so sorry, please keep your eyes open. I'm gonna help, okay? I'm gonna help."

"Pressure," he moaned. "Press on it."

Lucky's shaking hands pressed over the bloodied spot, "Okay."

"H-harder," he said. "Stop it from bleeding."

Lucky pushed up from the floor and ran back to Liz's room. She jumped up until the curtains were in her hands. They pulled down from the wall, and she ran back to King.

"Here," she said hastily, "let's put this around it."

She grabbed his arm, as he cried out in pain, and pulled his torso from the floor. He leaned against her as she wrapped the curtains as tightly as her arms would let her.

"Good," he gasped. "Take the bottle on the table...take it to Zee..ask for a doctor."

Lucky's eyes went to the little bottle on the table. She took it in her shaky hands and bolted for the door, but it didn't take her long to realize she had absolutely no clue where her brother even was.

"Where is he?" she stammered.

"He left," King choked. "Looking for you."

"No!" Lucky cried and stomped her foot. She stared outside, but it was empty—the only thing that greeted her back was the tall grass and the motionless trees. Not even the wind cried for her. Everyone was already gone.

She shut the door and walked back to King. She sat the tiny bottle back on the table and got in the floor beside him.

"I can't...," she cried. "I can't leave you like this."

"Go and find him," he said. "That girl needs that. I'm going to be fine. I just don't want to pass out. Trust me, alright?"

"I don't know where to look," she said, and her voice shook.

"You've got to start somewhere," he groaned and clutched at his chest. "But, watch out for him when you go. Gray's...looking."

"It's my fault," she cried, gripped her head in her hands, and shook beside him. "I'm so sorry."

"Shut up," King said and tried his best to give her a smile. "Just go find them."

"I don't want to leave you," she cried. "What if he comes back? What if I can't find them?"

"You're not...clueless anymore. Remember?"

Lucky bit her lip, slammed her hands down on the floor, and grabbed up the tiny bottle as she stood. She shoved it into the pocket of her dirty skirt and made her way back to the door.

"King," she said. "I won't forgive you if you die."

"Then run," he sighed. "I don't want to be in the dog house."

The door swung open once again, and she ran. Her feet carried her across the cement patio, the busted ant hills, and waves of grain. She padded her feet against the ground heading for the only place she knew to head: the palace.

"Zee!" she yelled. "Help!"

She stumbled over the roots of a tree, scratched her wrists on the glittering dirt, and pushed back up again. She had to find them. Anyone. She couldn't run and cry like she always did. She couldn't lose him. She could lose anything in the world, but she couldn't lose him.

The field seemed to stretch on for miles with nothing in sight but pointy grass and tombstone-trees. Her lungs burned. Her feet burned. Everything just burned. Her knees started to buckle, and she fell again. She clung to the tree next to her and pulled herself up as far as she could before falling back down. She hadn't realized she'd been crying until the dirt stuck to her neck. She clawed the tree until she was standing again, and she staggered ahead further.

"Zee!" she yelled. "Where are you?"

She sucked in a breath, fell against the tree and stared up at its frozen leaves. She couldn't run any more. She watched the leaves splice the heavens above her into shapes she didn't know. Each leaf looked at the sky through a different lens. They all gave her different ways to look at the sky.

"There's more than one way to find Zee," she whispered, put her fingers in her mouth, and whistled as loud as she could. She shut her eyes and panted—unknowing still, that from the trees behind her, ever-watchful eyes still prowled.