Phoenix of Dawn

Valse Septembre

Death wasn't a stranger to me. It was an unwelcomed friend. Like the distant relative you didn't invite to the family reunion but they showed up anyways. It was always lurking just at the peripherals of my life, waiting for me. Hunting me. It slithered across the shadows, claws digging deep into the soil, fangs dripping with venom. Sometimes I heard its call outside, the throaty vibrato that shook the air. It haunted me. They all did.

I lay stock still in bed, knowing they were near. I waited with baited breath, my ears perked and the hair on my skin standing on end. If I was still enough I could hear the rustle of the leaves outside my window. If I focused enough I could smell the rotten, leathery flesh that covered their backs. If I kept control then maybe they wouldn't sense me. 

The sheets were scratchy on my skin and I fought the desire to itch my irritated skin. The window was open, the pale moonlight filtering like milk over the small bare room. It wasn't much but it had been home for the last three months. 

"Kyra."

My aunt Claira poked her head around the corner of my door. There was a sense of urgency to her voice that told me this was it. We were running again.

Throwing my covers off I slipped out of bed. I was already dressed. We'd known they were on our trail for a week already and I'd started going back to sleeping fully clothed, always ready. We'd been here long enough that before we'd received the warning I'd actually started to opt for pajamas. I'd gotten comfortable here. 

I couldn't get comfortable anywhere.

Tugging on my boots and lacing them quickly I tiptoed through the shack, ears trained for any indication that the beasts stalking the perimeter were onto us. If they figured it out then we'd have three seconds before a fight was on our hands. The odds of surviving were slim. 

From beneath a loose floorboard Claira handed me my backpack and I strapped a few knives to my thigh. Another just in case in my boot. 

Claira gestured for the side door. 

I followed after her, dodging the creaky floorboard we'd mapped out when we'd first arrived at the safe house. 

Earth itself was meant to be a safe house but that was a joke now. The war had spilled over from Eden to here. There was no escape any more. 

We darted into the stale night air, the humidity thick around us as we ducked into the shadows of a nearby tree. Under the cover of darkness we assessed our next move. We had to get to the car five miles out, hopefully undetected. 

I tilted my head, listening. The ground crunched and sliced under heavy foot and claw to my left. Claira brushed her finger over her lips to warn me  to be silent, not that it was necessary. The breath in my lungs had already ceased as I struggled to keep my heart rate slow. 

It came into view at first like a slight shift in the darkness and then it took form as it crossed our path. Out of instinct I gripped Claira's arm, my skin prickling with fear. My eyes squeezed shut as the massive head of the leathery beast turned to us. 

Don't see us. Don't see us.

Nausea rolled through me at it's approach. Images flashed in my mind of my uncles death, of the war, of wolves that had lost their lives by the masses. Green fields painted red, silver coats matted with blood so thick it ran like rivers to the sea. 

My body tensed, the air crackling with energy. 

The long talons of the beast before us were only inches from my feet and I readied myself for death. There were no tears. Tears wouldn't save me. They hadn't ever saved anyone. Claira gripped my hand on her arm, holding tight, trying to relay all her final words to me in that small connection.