Genesis

Reasons

     Even the sky cried for Dorian's death. But I still couldn't conjure a single tear.

     All I could think about was how I'd failed, and how Colt was going to die because of it.

     I sat in the cooking tent waiting, by Lucius's orders, for him to return as Xander and Maya did their best to comfort me, although I could tell that they were pretty uneasy and unsure of what to do. After all, on the surface, it didn't seem like there was anything to comfort at all. I didn't shed a single tear. I didn't speak a single word. After Xander wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and Mayanna handed me a cup of water, the best they could do was to sit with me in silence.

     It wasn't working.

     So there I was, sitting and trying to avoid the thought of what I needed to do.

     I needed to go speak to Colt and tell him that I failed.

     The only reason that I was hesitating was that I still thought I could win this. That I could outthink the killer. In fact, I did outthink the killer. The only reason I was still sat here and Colt wasn't free was because God felt the need to divinely intervene and to make my life so much rainier.

     I heard another rumble of thunder outside, barely audible under the torrential downfall of rain hitting the tent's roof. I glanced at my watch, realizing that it had been hours since I first came to sit in this tent.

     I'm not going to figure this out, am I?

     I stood up abruptly, startling Maya and Xander as that had been my first inch of movement in hours.

     "I'm going to speak to Colt," I stated clearly, walking towards the tent's entrance.

     "Quinn, I'm not so sure that's a good idea--," Xander tried to say, his voice cut off by the next racket of thunder that rumbled about noisily in my eardrums as I stepped outside. By the time I stormed into Colt's tent, I was soaked to the bone. Emerson jumped to his feet when he saw me.

     "Quinn, you c-can't be in here," he muttered.

     "I know," I told him, looking knowingly into his eyes, "That's why I sneaked in here while you were on a bathroom break."

     His baby blue eyes looked back purposefully as he nodded, "I'll be back in five minutes."

     After he went outside, I allowed myself to turn to Colt, finding it painful when my eyes finally met his. I sat down slowly in front of him, trying to figure out what to say. Luckily, I didn't have to say anything at all, as Colt read my expression like words on a page.

     "It's not your fault," he told me.

     "How is this not my fault?" I asked him, "I told you I could get you out of here. I gave you hope. And I failed."

     "No," Colt continued, "That's not what I meant."

     "Then what did you mean?" I asked him.

     "I meant, it's not your fault that Dorian died."

     Those words pierced through my armor like cold steel, as I felt hot, wet tears begin to fall down my cheeks.

     "How fast can you run?" I asked him quickly.

     "Faster than anyone here. Why?"

     Before I could feel the switchblade in my hand, I found myself cutting through the restraints on his ankles.

     "Quinn, no."

     His legs were free. 

     "Stop."

     I grabbed his arm when he tried to pull it away and cut through the rope tied around his wrists.

     "Now go," I instructed him, "Get out of here before Jackson gets back."

     "I can't do that."

     "And why not?" I asked him.

     "Isn't it obvious?" he asked me, "Because as soon as they realize I'm gone, they'll suspect that you were the one who let me go."

     "It doesn't matter," I told him, "Like you said earlier, Lucius is in charge, and I know that he'd never let anything happen to me."

     I closed my switchblade and tried to put it in his pocket. Before I could even come close, he grabbed my wrists and stared hard into my eyes.

     "I won't go."

     The tone of his voice was final. I looked into his icy gaze, trying to find even a hint of hesitation.

     Suddenly, I felt a cold gust of wind on my cheek.

     "Emerson," Colt said, looking behind me and standing up, "Tie me up."

     I turned around to see Emerson's eyes widen as he quickly picked up the ball of twine beside him, stepping towards Colt who was waiting with his arms outstretched.

     "No!" I exclaimed, knocking the twine out of Emerson's grasp in one swift motion, "If you don't go now, they'll kill you."

     "And if I don't stay, they'll kill you."

     "No," I stated, shaking my head, "I told you. Lucius wouldn't let that happen."

     "What that guy would and wouldn't do isn't as clear as you'd like to think. I know him."

     "You mean you knew him," I stated, "Six years ago."

     "And he's still exactly the same as I knew him," he told me, "The only difference is that he's gotten better at hiding it. You know I'm right."

     I searched my mind for ways I could make him leave, despite everything telling me that it wasn't possible. Before I could think of arguing again, I found myself wrapping my arms around him, the hot, wet tears from before deciding to make their second appearance. It wasn't until a few moments later that I felt him rest his arms around me too. I freed the breath of air my lungs were holding in for far too long.

     "It's not your fault," I heard him say again, this time in a whisper. A million thoughts ran through my mind.

     One of them was the simple fact that Colt somehow saw that I'd blamed myself for Dorian's death before even I knew. Another was that I wished I'd gotten up that morning when Dorian did. That I didn't sleep in. Or that I didn't stay up so late so that I felt like sleeping in.

     I wished I'd left that stupid pond sooner and ran to that mustard yellow picnic blanket, catching the killer just in time to stop him.

     Somewhere deep inside me, I even wished that Lucius never found me in the first place and Colt had his way, leaving me in the middle of the woods to starve until I died.