Out of the Lamp

Chapter 30: Enlightened

Confession: this entire trial is an Easter egg from one of my other stories, I couldn't resist!! It's Mia's parent's story from           The Earl's Keeper.

Also, I've been awol for a while since I've got a new job and I just get so tired at the end of the work day that I barely have enough energy to just about drag my ass home and into bed. Bleh.

So enjoy!

~*~

I wake up drenched in a cold sweat, a scream stuck halfway in my throat, and knowing exactly what to do.

No way.

I clutch a hand to my chest, my heart hammering wildly beneath my ribs, beating to the rhythm of: I'm alive. I'm alive. I'm alive. Falling in your sleep has got to be one of the most underrated terror inducing moments ever. I thought I was going to die. Something warm moves against my side. My eyes dart down to the source. The little girl is curled up next to me, where she fell asleep. The old woman and the young one on the different sides of the tent, in their usual sleeping mats.

But something woke me up. I'm sure of it. Like a sixth sense, tingling like crazy. Something, or someone was coming. As if to confirm, I pick up on the sound of disturbed sand hitting the material of the tent, stirred by footsteps sneaking outside. The flap of the tent opens, and a shadowed figure looms in the entrance. My breathing hitches in surprise. I was right. Why was I right! I wished I was wrong!

Of all the moments to be psychic.

A finger points at me and crooks inwards in a beckoning motion. The silhouette making it all the more intimidating. Like an idiot, I look around and point back at myself as if to say "who me?". Knowing damn well it's directed at me, and yet here I am, still playing dumb. There's no one else awake. So obviously it's for me. Duh.

Any chance it's an Egyptian call-girl and not a violent slave trader?

The masculine grunt and rush of air as the figure sighs exasperatedly, is all the confirmation I need. Nope, out of luck. The shadow is most definitely a man, and right now, he thinks I'm just as dumb as my acting skills. He steps aside to reveal the darkness outside. Indicating it's time for me to move. 

There's a million thoughts rushing through my head. Piling one on top of the other, clamouring to be heard. If he wanted to hurt you, or was the boss of this shitty expedition, he wouldn't be quiet and come in the middle of the night like a spy. He'd take you kicking and screaming, whenever, wherever. Just like this morning.

I shudder. True that.

Pulling out the last thread of my courage straight out my ass, I gently push the little girl from me. She grunts a little in her sleep, before rolling onto her own mat properly. I cover her with the thin blanket and get up. She had tried to protect me from "punishment" this morning. Warm affection seeps outwards from my tummy. I creep over and around the other sleeping bodies. No one stirs, much to my surprise. Once I reach the entrance, suspicion stills me. Is it too late for second thoughts?

The decision to leave or not is taken out of my hands, as warm, calloused fingers curl around my upper arm. Yanking me violently out of the tent. I'm about to scream when another hand clamps around my mouth. Effectively silencing me.