Nada's Escape

37- Fingers.

Darcell shoves me into some tiny alcove in the building right as a Huntsman rounds the corner with confident strides. Darcell presses his hand tight against my mouth and his body pushes mine back into the bricks. I barely breathe as I watch the Huntsman walk past not three feet away on the other side a struggling bush only vaguely screening our hiding place.

I wait, counting to three after he enters the building before I throw Darcell off me glaring in no uncertain way. He simply stares back expressionlessly and presses a finger on my lips. Keep quiet.

I nod, still frustrated with his impropriety, and don't wait to see if he follows as I start to struggle up the gritty granite handholds on this side of the wall. On top, two legs swinging out into the rainforest, I pause to watch Darcell launch himself up behind me. Just barely I can see the open gates on the other side of the building.

"We can't be seen," Darcell hisses in my ear, "Go, go, go." He pushes me over the edge and I let out a yell.

"Hey!" I claw the wall against gravity. Darcell seizes my wrist, shoving my hand onto a knob the size of an apple.

"Trust me," he compels down to me in a whisper. My predicament tells me that I don't have much choice. I dangle one-handed metres and metres above the ground. I glare at Darcell but he is looking over the wall. Then without warning he swings down towards me. I muffle another shriek. Grimly I hold onto the knob with my hand and panic that he is almost on top of me, hands sliding towards the edge too.

He mutters a curse and leaps sideways over me, pushing me swaying dangerously against the wall. My cheek grazes against the granite and I wince as a crushing pressure on my hand above signals Darcell is also clinging to my handhold.

"Ouch." I admonish. I can't see the ground but I know it isn't as close as I would like. I feel warm breath against my neck and my arm screams from raw fingertips to shoulder.

"I heard someone over here." A voice proclaims from inside the walls. I squint my eyes shut.

"There's nobody. Nobody knows about this." A second voice sounds annoyed.

"It was right near these uneven bricks. I reckon someone was climbing them."

"I can't see anyone," booms the other voice. We don't hear anything further above our hearts' pounding.

"Now don't let go," whispers Darcell and he lifts one of his hands from mine, allowing the blood to flow again.

"Was that really necessary? Couldn't you have found another hand hold?" I hiss back, bruised and annoyed. He doesn't answer but I feel his hand on my aching shoulder and as he extracts his other hand off mine above. I find myself straining speechless with the weight of two of us. I grimace and beg myself, don't let go now. Just hold on a little longer.

Darcell is quick but each movement of his stretches my limbs past another limit. Next he grabs my hanging arm and I feel like he is trying to squeeze the muscles off my bones. This is no dramatic moment. I can't see what is going on and all I know is that I'm in pain.

Next my legs and ankles gain the weight and my hand slips just a little against the granite, cramping my fingers. Desperation has me clinging, tensing but I slip. My breath catches up in my vocal cords, the wall grazes by and my heart leaps into my stomach.

My arms are wrenched but hands slide along my arms, only slowing me. My feet slam into the ground sooner than expected and I crouch, rocking back to lie on the ground. My head spins and my muscles scream but I see Darcell, ridiculously clinging to the gap left by a missing brick four metres above the ground. He drops with unflustered grace and grins in exhilaration.

"Perfect timing up there. Thanks for not dropping us both onto the ground."

I drag myself up into a crouch, massaging my purple fingers. "And what if I had?" I glare.

"You didn't. And you wouldn't have."

"But what if I did?" I demand. His face is light and he shrugs.

"Wanna see who's taking from the archives?" He asks, bouncing on his toes in the dappled rainforest shade. His enthusiasm strikes me as boundless and puppy-like in that moment.

"Does it matter?" I reply, pushing up onto my feet so that we're face to face. I pat my hip through my shortened dress, ensuring the stolen wad of paper is still secure. Meeting his eyes the puppy illusion is shattered. Though his expression is relaxed, steely determination glints in the green of his steady eyes.

"Of course. A good detective can't just read about their mystery, they've got to make their own deductions." Darcell says playfully, already turning to leave. I am captivated by the mismatch between his manner and his eyes. He pads through the undergrowth, serious in that too, despite the roll of his eyes when he glances back to catch me staring. I reply with an even more impressive roll of my eyes and tighten the strip of fabric that's supposed to be holding my hair back. Then I creep along the straight edge of the wall behind him.

At the corner, a beautiful big fern gives us cover to peer through at the gate. The Huntsmen don't appear immediately and like all waiting it is agonising. Fascinated despite myself I creep forward to peer around a bird of paradise, but there's no evidence of a path. It's at this point that they emerge and I duck out of sight, heart racing. Fearless, Darcell bear crawls over to my hiding spot and whispers in my ear.

"It's, Merritt, Sherman and Rivers. They're part of the conservative faction, likely here on orders from the leader himself." I shiver at the thought of Finley's cold, vicious father. Peering over the leaves at last I see two Huntsmen with light brown hair, one extremely tall and a black-haired Huntsmen. This last one has an armful of paper.

"You sure you don't want help with that?" Asks the tall brown-haired man who's the only one of the three not carrying anything.

"It's my job," replies the black-haired man jealously. He doesn't wait for the gate to be relocked, stalking off through the ferns. I wonder if the tall brown-haired man had just come for the conversation or had deposited his documents already. An ugly thought occurs to me: he could be depositing information about the girls from Seven. What if one of them pledged before Finley's ally could switch out the ribbons? Or something even worse?

I remind myself that there is still time until termination day. Still, I reach out for the static at the back of my mind that had so irritated me earlier. It's quieter now. The girls are they-? I send.

I can't believe I hadn't thought to ask before... surely Finley would have led with that if something had happened.

They're just as you left them, don't worry. Finley instantly replies. Some have agreed to pledge on termination day. Where are you?

I deliberately answer vaguely, the gardens. We need to talk.

We already are.

I scoff, I don't know what this is. Someone else could be listening.

I hear his chuckle as well as feel it, only a fighter could think like that. He pauses, thinking. Meet me where we almost got caught by my father. You know, the night we snuck you out.

I nod, sure. Becoming once again aware of my surrounds I feel a tapping on my arm. My eyes focus on Darcell's frowning face and I raise my eyebrows.

"What?"

He shakes his head, peppering me with tiny glances. "You were super out of it, almost looked enthralled." Ice clutches at me at the thought but I try not to let that show, shaking his concern off.

"Just thinking," I lie, stretching out my legs as I stand. "I've actually got to go..." Darcell seems to buy it because he grins.

"Ah I get it. You can't keep up any longer." He smirks and I shake my head.

"Nooo. I've got more important things do than skive about with you all day," I return, pointing a finger at his chest and backpedalling. He laughs and waves a farewell. I turn my mind to navigating out of this maze.