Day thirteen.
Two days passed in no time at all.
By the end of the second day we decided that Jac and I were healed enough to be moved, so today, we're going to finally leave this godforsaken cabin and camp.
"You ready?" Blake asks us.
I nod and Jac just grunts.
"Let's go!" Greta yells and throws the door open.
I limped outside, blinking at the brightness of the sun.
"It's about one mile till we get to the main road, so get ready for a hike through the woods. Try not to kill your ankles," Blake says, shouldering her pack.
I glanced at Jac, who stares right back at me, his face sporting big purple bruises and dried blood.
"you sure you're up to this?" I ask him.
He just nods. He hasn't said anything since he told me he loved me. That's not a sentence I thought I'd ever say.
"Let's go!" Greta says again, a little impatient.
We started at an easy pace, but by the time we hit the quarter-mile mark, Jac and I were tired. Which is pretty pathetic, but we'd been through a lot. Physically and mentally. But still.
At the half-mile mark, we stopped to rest. I sat down right there and then, not caring about getting dirty. Jac sat down next to me, and the look he gave Greta and Blake clearly stated that he wished to talk to me.
Alone.
So they went far enough away that they couldn't hear us, but could see us. They weren't taking any chances after what had happened with Porter.
"What do you want Jac?" I ask sharply.
"Don't you think we should talk? I mean, about what happened," He answers softly.
I gave him the classic line:
"What is there to talk about?"
Oh, he did not like that one bit.
"Can you just listen to me Swazi?! I honestly thought I might've died that night, so I told you what I wanted you to know if I did end up dying," He says, sounding annoyed at me.
"So since you didn't die, you want me to forget that you ever said that, because it was completely inappropriate, and we should go back to "Just knowing each other" I rattled off the speech. I've heard it enough times to know it by heart.
"No! What the hell are you talking about?!" Jac asks, now sounding very surprised.
"Fine. If you "Love" me, then how? As a friend, as a Sister? A lover? Daughter? Pet?" I demand.
"Pet? What kind of person do you think I am Swazi?" Jac says.
"That's the thing, I don't know, we barely know each other! Sure, we spent a traumatic week in a pit, but I don't even know your bloody last name!" I nearly yell at him.
"Doesn't mean I can't care about you! Whether you like it or not, we're stuck together, so you better get used to being cared about," Jac snaps back.
"Also, my last name is Evens. Jac Evans," He adds.
"Carter Davis," I answer, sticking out my hand.
Jac blinks, confused.
"I thought your name was Swaziland Moire," He says slowly.
"After my family was killed in the mass shooting ten years ago, I had to change my name for my protection. I chose Swaziland because that was where I was born. My dad was a weird guy," I tell him.
Jac doesn't say anything, just takes my hand and gives it a firm shake.
"You guys ready to get going again?" Blake asks
"Yeah," Jac says, slowly getting to his feet, wincing the whole time.
I got to my feet more gracefully. Jac just rolled his eyes.
"Okay, let's get going," Blake says, patting Jac on the shoulder before moving to walk beside Greta.
I raised my eyebrows at him, but he just rudely ignored me.
We walked in silence for about ten more minutes before I heard something I didn't like.
Laughter.
Coming from behind us. Jac and I quickly spun around but didn't see anything but trees and dirt.
We stood dead still, just watching and listening.
Still nothing. The laughter had stopped.
Right then we heard Greta yelp and Blake yell something from up ahead, and we quickly hobble to find them.
What we find isn't pretty.
My adoptive brother, Wren, was holding Greta by her hair and had a gun pressed against her forehead. Blake was a few steps away, glaring daggers at Wren.
When Wren saw me, smiled.
"Well, well, if it isn't my little bitch of a sister, Swaziland," He snarls, the voice just as slimy as I remember.
"Wren," I say coldly.
"I saw what you did to Porter. And now can see what he did to your new boy toy," Wren says, gesturing at Jac's missing fingers and bruised face.
"Don't you think the killing was a little uncalled for?" Wren says casually as if he didn't have a gun pointed at Greta's head.
"He got exactly what he deserved. As will you," I say, curling my hands into fists.
"Really?! What I think, is you've gotten a bit too big for your britches, Swazi," He says. "How bout you stop trying to play hero, and come back home with your big brother?" He croons.
I don't get the chance to answer, because Greta pulls out the hunting knife from where she'd hidden it in her sleeve and stabs Wren in the side.
There is a bang and we're all splattered with blood.
All I can hear is a sharp ringing sound.
And faint laughter.
I look up and see Blake on her knees in a silent scream, Jac staring dulled eyed at Greta's lifeless body. And Wren Laughing.
Whatever had twisted that day when she'd pushed Jac out of the way of those falling rocks,
Snapped.
And I launched myself at the monster masquerading as a man, intent on ripping him to pieces.
YOU ARE READING
When We All Go
أدب المراهقينI never felt so alone. But I'm used to being alone. Alone is what I wanted. But then he had to come along. He had to try and be the best person possible. He had to come along and start caring for me. **** Swazi is a cold character. Most people would...
