Salvation

Salvation #33

I dart through the long grass, breathing heavily. An ache spreads through my chest, clamping down on my lungs. My heart beats rapidly and my thoughts rush inside my skull.

Cristina hooks her arm around Nate's shoulders, awkwardly lifting him. She barely supports his leaden weight, stumbling over the course earth.

Unconsciousness drags Nate into a deep, unresponsive world. Blood soaks the bandages, trickling down his chest. The bullet's exit wound is a gaping hole in his body, raw and bloody.

I hover beside her, holding back the tears that have beaded around my eyes like dangerous shards of glass. "Nate?" my voice wavers, breaking.

The threat of unconsciousness looms over my mind, alluring me with bliss. I sway groggily, sobbing wildly.

"Ella," Cristina chokes. A second gunshot rings around us. The bullet whizzes past me and a rush of air grazes my arm.

I stumble backward, clamping my hand over my mouth. "Ella!" Cristina squeals. Her dark eyes widen and fear leaks into her voice. My fingers tremble over the corner of my lips and tears stream down my cheeks.

My eyes dart frantically between her and my captor. "Car," I whisper. Cristina frowns and frustration taints her features. "Car," I hiss through my teeth. My gaze flickers between her and the police squad car parked on the side of the road.

She hesitates, shifting Nate weight. I give a slight nod, ignoring the painful terror churning inside of me. I hook my bare ankle over Nate's handgun, sliding it toward me.

Cristina's dark eyes follow my slow movement. Adam's violent rant echoes around us, making my heart race. Adrenalin courses through my vanes, intoxicating my body like heroin.

"Go!" I scream, scooping the gun up. I shield them behind my back, aiming the gun at my captor. My hands tremble around the handle and my finger hovers over the trigger.

Cristina drags Nate's lifeless body through the long grass. "Cristina!" my captor shouts.

"Drop the guns!" I desperately try to hold the tears back.

Adam shakes his head, laughing, "Put it away honey."

He wades through the field, depleting the space between us. "Just put the gun down. Sweetheart we all know you're not going to use it."

"Get back!"

Nausea churns inside my stomach. I struggle to breathe the dry air. It crackles inside my lungs and whistles down my throat. Sweat slides down my temples and blood clings to the palms of my hands.

"D-don't move!"

"Come on sweetheart just put the gun away," his voice is nonchalant, eerie.

"Stay away from me!"

Cristina hauls Nate across the field, struggling to get him through the tangled barbwire. She finally breaks free. Cooper races around their feet, barking wildly.

She lets him slump against the car, smoothing his hair back. Cooper whines, licking the side of his face and nuzzling his jaw. She staggers back through the knotted wire, collapsing beside Marissa.

My attention snaps back toward Adam, "Don't." Adam holds up his hands, almost as if surrendering. "Don't come near me," I warn.

"Shh darlin'. Just relax," he shrugs casually.

"J-just stay back!"

Adam lunges at me, wrapping his arms around my waist. My finger jerks back on the trigger. The bullet slices through the dried grass and skips against the hard earth.

My back presses against his chest. His arms tighten around me, strangling me. The gun slips from my hand, falling to the ground.

I thrash against his hold, kicking violently. Screaming, I twist inside his arms. "Let me go!"

"Calm down sweetheart," he murmurs.

"You son of a bitch!" I screech.

I burrow my nails into his arm, doubling over. "Let go of me!" Adam struggles to hold me. "Stop," he mutters through his teeth.

In a fluid movement he slams me against the hard ground. The air is bashed from my lungs. Pain shoots through my back. A small groan rolls over my tongue. My head lolls against the rocky ground.

He kneels down beside me, tilting his head to the side. "My prize," my captor sighs, standing over me. He blocks the blinding sunlight. Silvery rays peak over his shoulder.

He crouches down next to me, brushing a loose strand of my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear.

I flash upright, clawing at his face. "You bastard!" I shout. My nails slice thin cuts across his cheek. "You God damn son of a bitch!"

He catches my wrists in his hands. "You'll be the reason he dies," I choke. Tears glaze my eyes and trickle down my cheeks, "You'll be the reason he dies."

My captor slaps me across the face. Agony burns across my cheek and a red mark swells across my skin.

I spit at him. He wipes my saliva away with the back of his free hand. "Murderer," I growl.

His fingers thread through my hair. He smashes my head against the course earth. Pain spreads across my skull, crawling through my mind.

A whimper leaks over my lips. He repeatedly beats my head against the ground. The ache spreads over my head and down my neck.

I scratch at his hands. My bare ankles scrape the ground, brushing the thick stalks of grass. I manage to twist around, staring through the long grass.

Cristina helps Marissa into the front of the police squad car. Her head falls back against the leather seat. Nate lies spread across the backseat, unconscious.

Cristina stands at the barbwire fence, staring at me through the bright sunlight and brittle grass. Emotions torment her, tainting her features.

My captor bashes my head against the ground. Blood streams through my dark hair. It pools around my head like a halo, soaking into the earth.

The pain throbs, washing over me in waves. Spidery lines fill my vision before drowning out the sunlight. I finally give in and let unconsciousness drag me into bliss.