Black Dove (Watty Awards 2012)

Chapter Eleven

            I hold my breath as I hear them outside. One of them swore. “Where’d they go? I swear they were here.”

            “Well obviously your eyes were deceiving you. There’s no one here, and they couldn’t have scaled that wall with their injured in time. Trident’s going to be furious. You imbeciles!”

            I suck in my  breath. So at least some of the police were working for Trident…prayed, threatened, or bribed. Now I’m immensely grateful to Darran for stopping me from turning myself in.

            We are all pressing our ears to the worn wooden door when a knock on the other side makes us jerk our faces away. “In the kitchen, the kitchen!” The old lady whispers, pointing a gnarled hand towards a door to the left.

            We slip in, and Darran lays Zoe on the floor. I am a little wary about trusting the woman, but she’s old, and we could easily overpower her, if it came to that. So I keep my hand on my gun and hope that she can be trusted. I hear murmured words on the other side of the door, her talking to the police, and I begin to get jumpy, fingering the polished wooden handle of the pistol.

            My throat itches from all the running, and I rub the dirty bandage. Kane is still in the deep sleep, and Zoe looks worse. I kneel next to her, her face ashen, her eyelids almost translucent. I peel away her old bandage. New blood oozes forth, and I quickly bind a new bandage, my jacket, around her.

            The old woman enters the room. She is bent, but there is a fire in her eyes, the same kind of courage Alyssa had. I see it and know, at least for now, that she is trustworthy.

            “They’re gone. I gave them false imformation.” She cackles and slaps her leg, “Now that was just too much fun.”

            The corners of my lips twitch in a passable imitation of a smile, and I begin to speak, “Ma’am, I’m—“

            “Oh, I know who you are,” she waves her hand at me, cutting off my words, “You’re Avalynne Southwood. You can call me Gaby, You’ve given a lot of people a lot of hope. And I’m guessing those people are your enemies?”

            “Yes. Look, Gaby, my friend Zoe’s been shot…” I am embarrassed, but tears seep out from the corners of my eyes. I’m just too tired. Zoe was shot trying to save me. I want to bury my head somewhere and never come out in a million years.

            Gaby gently pushes me aside and goes over to Zoe. Ripping off her bandage, she studies the wound. “I might be able to do something. Get her on the table.” She sweeps her hand across the wood, knocking plates, books, and papers flying off. Darran and I gently place her on the table.

            “Okay, I need you two to leave.” She says, jerking her finger towards the door. Darran and I react at the same time.

            “No way, lady…” Darran says in a low, growling voice.

            “We’re not going to leave you alone with our friend. We don’t even know you!” I say hotly, at the exact same time as Darran. Gaby just looks at us through rimmed spectacles.

            “I want this lady to stay with me.” She points at Essie, who up to this time has been quiet. “You two are emotionally attached, and, anyways, we want the area to be as germ free as possible. I might have a cure for her, but I need you to leave me alone and let me do it!”

            My gaze slips to Zoe, lying on the table, dead to the world. I need to do whatever I can for her, “Fine. Essie, take this, just in case.” I slide the gun over to her. She takes it without a comment. Gaby looks amused, as though it were cute of us to have a gun.