‘You heard him,’ Jack urged, his vice-like grip cutting off the circulation to my fingers.
I obeyed and allowed myself to be dragged away by him. We rounded a corner before any signs of a scuffle broke out.
‘Come on, Ava,’ he urged.
His legs were much longer than mine. I tripped and struggled to keep up, as Jack dragged me along the street.
Dusk was falling around us as my home loomed within sight.
‘We’ve got to get you out of Mortlock,’ said Jack. ‘It’s too small a town. Everyone knows everyone. They’ll know where you live immediately.’
‘But we just got back-’ I began.
‘Weren’t you listening? They’ve plastered your face all over town. We can’t hold off the entire village.’
‘I can’t leave Helena-’ I tried again.
‘Please, Ava. For once, do as you are told.’
The gravity of the situation had not yet dawned upon me. It felt as though I were running in slow motion through a dream.
‘Pack a bag,’ Jack continued. ‘I’ll get Hawthorne.’
But there was no need because Hawthorne was already waiting for me on the front porch. He had sensed my urgency from a mile away, and he had come to make sure everything was all right.
‘Where are we going to go?’ I asked as Jack threw the front door open and shoved me inside.
‘Don’t think, just pack,’ he said.
I flew through the house, grabbing my rucksack and filling it with clothes and necessities. Jack helped, throwing miscellaneous items into the bag.
‘When will we come back?’ I questioned.
‘What’s going on?’ My mother’s head appeared in the doorway. ‘Where are you going?’
‘No time to explain, Mrs. Redding,’ said Jack, thrusting the Wanted Poster into her hands.
My mother scanned the poster quickly, her eyes becoming rounder each second.
‘My goodness.’ She clutched her chest.
‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ I said, squeezing past her and rushing into the kitchen.
I opened the pantry and shoved random food items into my bag, before pulling the drawstring and throwing it over my shoulder.
In the distance, a small explosion sounded, rattling the windows in their frames.
‘What was that?’ my mother asked, peering out of the window. ‘I can’t see anything.’
‘Dad,’ I muttered, peering out too.
‘Where is your father?’
I bit my lip. ‘He was heading off one of the villagers who recognised me.’
‘Oh, dear.’
‘Avalon, hurry,’ said Jack, grabbing my wrist and dragging me towards the front door, where Hawthorne waited.
Standing on the porch, Jack gave me a leg up, and I clambered onto Hawthorne’s back.
I was just about to offer Jack a hand up, when another explosion sounded. I saw a lick of flames appear over the rooftops of the other cottages.
‘We’ve got to help Dad,’ I said to Jack.
‘No,’ he replied firmly.
I was about to protest when I saw several people running towards the house, my father in the lead.
‘GO!’ my father bellowed, waving his hands at me. ‘GO NOW!’
‘Avalon,’ Jack turned to me with wide eyes. ‘Please, fly now.’
I reached down, ready to pull Jack onto Hawthorne, but he shook his head.
‘I will slow you down,’ he said, glancing over his shoulder. Five or six villagers were running to catch up with my father. I did not recognise any of them.
‘Fly!’ my father bellowed, only a hundred meters away now. ‘They have a teleporter!’
‘Avalon!’ yelled Jack, scaring me into reality. ‘We can’t fight all of them! You have to go, before the teleporter-’
‘You have to come with me!’ I begged, brandishing my outstretched hand in front of him.
‘Hawthorne can’t carry my weight far,’ said Jack. ‘You have to go without me!’
‘How will I know what to do?’ I said, my panic rising with each passing second.
Jack gripped my hand between both of his, and squeezed hard. ‘I’ll find you, I promise,’ he said. There was no trace of a lie on his face.
‘How?’ I could not stop the tears from welling in my eyes. I was terrified of being alone. Jack was the anchor that held me to the ground.
The villagers were closing in. My father was bolting up the garden path.
‘What are you waiting for?’ said my father, sweat dripping from his brow, and his clothes singed.
‘NOW!’ Jack yelled, slapping Hawthorne on the rear-end, as though he were a horse. ‘Hawthorne, get her out of here!’
Hawthorne obeyed Jack, and readied himself, as though he were about to pounce.
‘No!’ I cried, gripping Jack’s hand. But it was too late. I tried to hold his grip, but my fingers slipped through his.
‘I’ll find you!’ he yelled to me. ‘I swear it!’
The villagers had reached our doorstep and faltered at the sight of Hawthorne. Was ten thousand gold worth the risk of getting mutilated by a monster?
Absolutely.
They lunged for Hawthorne in an attempt to keep him earth-bound, but they were too late.