Bundle of Branches

Chapter 13

"Clara, you know what to do," Lilia mouths. Her knees are aching from crouching in the same spot for so long. The air smells of dust and concrete, and it makes her feel sick. "I'll stay here and be the lookout; you go check the rooms."

Clara nods. Slowly, she stands up, and takes a few careful steps towards the hallway. The warehouse is silent. In one fluid movement, she pushes open the nearest door, holding her gun at the ready. Her eyes dart around the room.

It's empty.

She lets out a breath. "This room is clear," she whispers back to Lilia. She steps over the threshold, studying the papers on the floor. One that particularly catches her eye has a rough sketch of a human brain on it, seemingly drawn in a hurry. "There are... papers all over the floor. And notebooks. They have pictures of brains all over them. Hold on, I'm going to look at them." Clara kneels down and picks up the notebook that's closest to her. It's labeled as L'essai.

"What's wrong?" whispers Lilia. She fidgets with the peeling leather wrapped around the hilt of her knife. "What do they say?"

"Uh..." Clara frowns. "They're all in French." She ruffles through each notebook, and sure enough, they're all written in French. "Do you speak French?"

"No... but maybe someone else back at camp does." Lilia tries to keep her voice hopeful, but it sounds like this is just another dead end. "Are you putting them in your bag?"

"Yes." Clara slips as many notebooks as she can fit into her worn backpack, and then hoists it up onto her back. "And now I'm ready to check the next room." She stands up and carefully walks back into the hallway, stopping once she reaches the next door. It's slightly ajar, and she quickly pushes it open all the way.

But before Clara can say anything, there's a click, a creak, a thunk, and then there's a knife buried in her chest.

She lets out a choked scream, bringing her hands to the hilt, and stumbles back. Her head is exploding with white flashes. "Lilia," she tries to say, but her mouth is filled with blood. Streaks of pain curl around her ribs, constricting her lungs.

Immediately, Lilia is there, catching Clara and lowering her down to the ground. Clara's eyes are wide, confused, terrified. Lilia puts pressure around the wound. "Holy shit, babe, holy- what happened?" She doesn't take the knife out - memories of basic first aid classes from years ago are coming to the surface of her mind, and the clearest one is that you never remove the knife. Her hands are shaking so much that she can barely press on the bleeding.

"I- I think-" Clara wheezes, spitting blood. "T-there must h-have been a booby trap." She struggles to get up, managing to get onto her knees, blood pooling on the floor around her.

"We have to get you to my bike," says Lilia, trying her best to help Clara to stand. Clara leans heavily into her, her legs almost unable to support her. Lilia bites back tears. "Come on, we have to- come on. Try to walk."

Clara takes one step, her foot almost slipping in the puddle of blood. "I d-don't want to die," she says, a small whimper escaping her.

Lilia lifts Clara up into a bridal carry. "You're not going to die," she says, stepping back into the main room of the warehouse. "I- I promise that you're going to be fine." She gently sits Clara on the back of the motorcycle and then climbs onto the front. "Now wrap your hands around me. You gotta hold on tight."

Clara slumps, her breaths ragged. "Can't," she whispers.

"You have to try, Clara." Lilia takes Clara's hands and wraps them around her waist. "Please, just try your best."