The long grass blows gently, brushing Nate's bandaged back. He stares at Jason's crumpled body with wide, terrified eyes. Nausea rolls inside his stomach and adrenalin heats his blood.
His fingers dig into his sister's arm, leaving red imprints smeared across her skin. "Nate?" she whispers. Fear embeds itself in her voice. Tears glaze her eyes and carve damp, crooked paths down her cheeks.
They cower together, concealed by the grass. They watch Adam stumble back, wiping the blood from his face. It smudges across his cheek and stains the collar of his shirt. Flecks of blood cling to his sleeves and bead over his hand.
"Está muerto," Cristina whimpers. Nate can feel her trembling underneath his grip.
"Shh," Nate breathes, "No se mueven."
Their father fires another wild shot. Cristina snaps out of Nate's grip and presses her hands over her ears. She cries quietly, doubling over until her forehead bows against the hard earth.
"Find the girl!" Rick shouts. Adam's mouth sets into a firm line. His gaze remains firmly locked on Jason's body. "It's just one more damn girl," he sighs.
"Find her!" Rick orders.
He paces through the field, muttering under his breath. He flashes around, "Natanael!" His dark eyes scan the grass. "Where are you hiding?" he murmurs.
"Por favor, Señor nos guarde," Cristina chokes, rocking slightly. Trembling Nate smoothes his hand over her hair, "Shh."
"You've really done it now haven't you son?!" Rick yells. His voice sweeps over the field like thunder. Cristina cringes, pushing her hands down harder over her ears, desperate to block the sound out. "You've really done it this time," he says, "Realmente has hecho esta vez."
"Por favor, Señor nos guarde," Cristina repeats. Her prayer is barely audible, muffled by the ground. "Shh Cristina," Nate soothes.
"I could have cured you!" Rick staggers in circles, searching the field. "You would have been cured!"
Nate tries to hush his laboured breathing. Pain spreads across his back, stinging and tormenting him. Heat swarms around him and sweat trickles down his forehead.
"Now look what you've done!" Rick yells. Nate cringes and tries to forget that this man is his father. "You've made a real mess of things now!"
Cristina slips her hand over her little brother's. She squeezes it gently, a frail attempt to comfort him and ease the churning emotions swirling inside him.
"Now more people will die," Rick pauses for a moment, letting his gaze sweep across the long grass, "These people didn't need to die." He steps toward Jason's body, "This man didn't need to die!"
Cristina tightly grips Nate's hand. He can feel her convulsing beside him as fear consumes her, drowning her.
A loud gunshot screams across the field, followed by a sickening cry. Nate glances over his shoulder while Cristina digs her nails into his hand.
He watches Marissa fall to the ground and become hidden by the grass. Ella stands on the side of the road, pale and scared. She looks so fragile with wide, dark eyes and drained features.
Cristina clamps her hand over her mouth, muffling her sob. Tears race down her face, running along her jaw and dropping from her chin.
Nate holds his breath while Ella struggles to break through the barb wire. She rips out of it clutches and kneels down beside Marissa.
The dried grass obscures Nate's view. "Nate," Cristina cringes. Nate stares at Joseph limp toward Marissa and Ella. Panic surges through him, consuming him.
Joseph lifts the gun, pressing the barrel against Ella's temple. He sways wearily, obviously battling the pain of the bullet wound.
Impulse riddles Nate's body like a disease. "Ella!" he shouts, dragging himself to his feet. He darts across the field, sprinting through the long grass and clutching the hand gun.
"Natanael!" Cristina squeals. He freezes in the centre of the field, caught amongst the eyes of everyone around him. "Nate!" he watches his name roll off of Ella's lips.
Nate raises his gun to the side of his head. The barrel burrows into his temple. Ella's dark eyes widen and pleas knot over her tongue.
"Let her go!" Nate orders. Harsh determination oozes into his voice. Joseph hesitates, his gaze leaping between Nate and Rick. "Don't be idiotic Nate," Rick says.
"Let her go or I'll pull the trigger," Nate yells, snapping the safety off.
"She's just a girl Natanael. She's not worth it."
Ella shakes her head. Her glassy eyes are filled with a begging look.
Shaking, Nate lets his finger hover over the trigger. "Natanael!" Cristina cries.
"Let her go," Nate murmurs, ignoring his sister.
Behind him Adam lifts his gun, pointing it at Nate's back. "Joseph let her go," there's a cold tone in Nate's voice, enveloped in his strong accent.
Marissa musters enough strength to raise her handgun. The barrel swings loosely in her hand before aiming at Joseph. She pulls the trigger, sending a loud blast ringing across the field.
Joseph falls back, slamming against the ground. His blood sprays over Ella and Marissa. The gun slips from Marissa's hand, clattering against the earth.
Nate twists the barrel of the gun against his temple. Adam adjusts his grip on the handgun and pulls the trigger. The bullet breaks through Nate's back.
He draws in a sharp breath, sinking onto his knees. Blood streams down his back and pain spreads across his skin like fire.
"Nate!" Ella screams. She sobs wildly, pulling herself onto her feet.
"Natanael!" Cristina shouts hysterically.
Natanael dabs his fingers against the exit wound. Sticky blood clings to his fingers. He winces, suppressing a cry of pain.
"You bastard!" Rick snaps, waving the rifle at Adam. "You shot my son!" Cristina leaps up, racing over to her brother, seizing her father's momentary distraction.
"Nate?" she whimpers.
Her hand falters over his shoulder. "Natanael?" Nate cringes in agony before collapsing and sinking into a bleak abyss.
YOU ARE READING
Salvation
Teen FictionShe's his prize, his beautiful, flawless prize. She's his trophy, a girl he stole from the world. He holds her captive in the harsh shadows of the basement and tortures her. He loves her, charishes her every breath and lives off her every scream. He...
