Breaking Free (BXB)

Chapter 28-Fugitive

I stared down at my hands. They were stained red, completely drenched in blood half-way up my arm. I felt my knees tremble and shake unsteadily beneath me. The sword went silent, it's presence going quiet, leaving me with only my thoughts and the pile of dead bodies surrounding me, a reminder of what I had done. I had done this. I had taken the lives of men and women, who probably had families and friends who loved them. I had no right to take anyone's life, but here I was, standing in a room full of men I had killed. I had taken their life and snuffed it out as if I was pouring water over a flame. The weight of their lives rested heavily on my shoulders.

Collapsing to the floor, I heaved up the contents of my last meal. But come to think of it, I honestly couldn't honestly remember the last time I had a full meal. I couldn't remember how long we had been on the road, camping and hunting and eating canned goods, fighting where we had to. It felt like we had been gone for years, but it couldn't have been that long. Swallowing down bile, I pushed myself to my feet. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about this kind of thing. I had to leave before more men came to kill me. 

Sighing, I walked over to Alo, who was lying still on the floor. There was only one way out, and I wasn't sure he would survive it, but I had to try. Scooping him up in my arms, I steeled myself for what I was about to do.

Walking over to the window, I unlatched it with my free arm, feeling the grind of rusted metal against the walls. It was old, and I couldn't help but wonder about the amount of history I had single-handedly destroyed. I had gone from a shy boy who lived to preserve all life, who loved history desperately, to one who destroyed it all without thought. Squeezing my eyes shut, I shook those thoughts from my head. Taking one last glance at the men lying dead around me, and with a small readjustment to the man in my arms, I turned towards the window. It was a far drop that I was certain my human body wouldn't be able to handle, but my cat form, on the other hand, just might. I would have to hold Alo through all of that, and I wasn't sure how it would go. I wasn't sure it would work at all, but I had to try. 

I guess I would learn whether cats really do always land on their feet. I shifted the hilt of the sword into my mouth, feeling the weight of it on my jaw. Slowly, gently, I placed Alo over my shoulder and heaved a breath as I heard him grown. He was still alive. Taking several steps back I sucked in an unsteady breath. Then I ran towards it with all of my strength.

I reached deep inside of me, pulling out the cat in me. I felt his power, his personality, his wants and needs, and desires. I felt his pull towards Owen and towards life. And I tugged that, holding it where it was like a lightning bug caught in a jar. It only took a few seconds for it to rest at the edge of my mind, waiting to be let free. Then I jumped. I felt the air push through the hair on my head and scrape my skin. For a couple of seconds, I felt weightless, flying in the wind like a bird. Then I changed, with a sharp crack and a jolt of pain, I flew through the air in my cat form, Alo weighing heavily on my back. I could see well above the trees and I could feel my soul pulling me somewhere far beyond them. The feeling was familiar and soft and it filled up an Owen sized hole in me.

Then I crashed to the floor, landing on all four paws with a jolt. Alo landing right on my back. Pain shot up my spine and I felt something shift and I yowled in pain. A pounding, thumping pain pressed itself into me. The blood rushed in my ears, yet I could still hear the shouts of hunters behind me. I had to run. I had to leave, or else I would die, and I couldn't do that. I had people counting on me. Gritting my teeth around the sword, I pushed myself into an awkward, limping run, holing Alo on my screaming back. Pain seared through my body with every touch of my paws to the ground, every movement of shoulder and back, but I had to keep going. Pushing myself faster, I raced into the tree line, feeling the heat of the hunter's hounds hot on my trail. I felt the wilderness fight against me, slapping and cutting my skin as I ran. I felt the forest swallow me whole as the shouts and barks of the hunters subsided.

Then the magical old woman appeared. She stood, her eyes narrowed and sharp and her hands out in front of her. Her forehead was creased in concentration. I tried to push myself into a stop, but the momentum carried me right into her. I braced myself for impact, but it never came.

"Well, that was a crash landing if I've ever seen one." The woman huffed, brushing herself off. My eyes widened as I found myself in the hall of a small, cozy cottage. I allowed myself to shift back, the sword still in my hand. Shaking, every nerve still on fire and drenched in adrenaline, I stared, wide-eyed at the place. Little plants filled up the area, and some even dangled from the ceiling in see-through pots. There were wide windows on the walls showing a bright garden filled with an abundance of multi-colored flowers. The walls were a soft, dark brown color and I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding. Safe. I was safe. A single, stray tear slipped out of my eye, and with that one tear, I felt the dam inside of me burst free. The sword clattered to the floor as I held my head in my hands and sobbed. I felt my chest heaving, and I only sobbed harder.

When I looked up, the woman who had brought me here was gone, Alo gone with her, vanished as if she was never there. Standing in the corner, his eyes wide with worry, was Owen. He looked nearly the exact same as when I had last seen him, but his eyes were red from crying, with large bags beneath them and his hair was rumpled and a mess. Everything moved in slow-motion. Owen's eyes widening, his hand flying to his mouth. The choked sob that burst free and tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. It couldn't have taken more than a handful of seconds for him to run over to me, but it felt like forever. Collapsing by my side he pulled me into him, warm and steady and soft. I relaxed, allowing myself to just cry into his shoulder, breathing in the scent of him.

"I was so, so worried about you, Milo." He murmured into my hair. I felt him whisper my name over and over and over as he held me tighter as if he believed I would disappear if he stopped as if he couldn't fully believe I was here at all. A breeze came in through an open window and I took in a breath of fresh air. It was filled with the scent of flowers and Owen. And blood.

"Shower." I murmured. Before I did anything more I needed to clean off the blood of the men I had killed. Owen just squeezed me tighter and helped me to my feet. He grabbed the sword in one hand and held me with the other as he guided me through the house. I felt like I was walking on a cloud, but not in a good way. My mind was in a haze of trauma and pain and my body felt like it couldn't work anymore. Everything inside me was numb. Every part of me but my heart, now that Owen was holding me. I would be ok, I knew that now that Owen was holding me. I could take on the world, now that Owen was holding me. Just not right now. Right now I needed to shower, get my wounds looked at, and sleep in the arms of the boy I loved.