Shit, Addie, think. What would Zade do?
He'd be a fucking hero; that's what he'd do. Zade isn't interested in saving himself, only everyone else. So, what would he want me to do?
Save myself. He’d want me to save myself. But the Culling wasn’t designed
for the prey to safely get away.
Before I can decide, Phoebe’s eyes widen into round discs, and she seems to
shy away, her body beginning to emerge from the other side. Slowly, she raises a
shaking hand and points behind me.
My heart drops, and for a moment, I’m paralyzed. My brain once again
divides into two, one half panicking because she’s no longer concealed, and the
other half frozen in terror because there’s somebody fucking behind me.
I know without a shadow of a doubt that it’s Xavier. He’s found me.
Leaves crunch and a twig snaps to my right. My head whips in that direction,
and I scarcely see the shine of a crossbow glinting under the moonbeams.
And then time speeds up, slapping me in the face as two arrows barrel
towards us at once. One from Ben, and the other from behind me.
The air whistles and my body moves purely on instinct, ducking low and
veering off toward the tree to the left of me. The arrow flies between my tree and
the one I’m aiming for, and a thunk stops me in my tracks. Mere inches separate the tip of the arrow now impaled in the bark, and my face.
My eyes blow wide, and I yelp. I look up and notice the first shot towards
Phoebe also failed. We won’t get that lucky again. And we only have about seventeen seconds to get away.
… three, four, five…
“Phoebe, run!”
Both of us scramble, dirt and leaves kicking up beneath our boots as we take
off, our legs pumping and tearing through the foliage.
“Jump!” I screech, my mind scrambling to keep up with our steps. Scarcely, I
lift the branch attached to me, and the both of us jump over the tripwire, coming
incredibly close to snagging it.
Our pounding footsteps ruminate through the forest floor. There’s no hiding now. There’s only escaping a silver arrowhead. The paths we take are strategic only in the sense of losing them, rather than trying to find our way out.
We clear a few more traps, and after several minutes, I hear Phoebe’s footfalls
coming to a sudden stop. I skid, turning to see her bent at the waist, panting so
hard, she’s nearly choking. Her face is as bright as her hair, and her eyes seem to
cross.
“I can’t keep running,” she chokes out, and then gags. “I can’t.”
"No, no, you can do it! Come on, Phoebe, you got this.”
She shakes her head again, and I can't help but take a step back when I see a
shadow dart to the side about ten yards away or so. A scream tears from my throat when the arrow goes flying, piercing Phoebe straight in the back of the shoulder.
She falls face first, an agonized wail following suit. Groaning, she manages to
pick herself up and charge past me. Confused, I chase after her, then come skidding to a halt again when she steps over the tripwire, collapses to the ground, and grabs onto the string.
"Addie, fucking go!" she screams, her voice breaking from the force. My face contorts and tears spill over my eyelids, both from denial and guilt. But an arrow cutting through time and space has me diving ahead, another arrow coming
within scant inches from my head.
My hands grapple at the cold ground to propel me forward, nearly face-planting again in my pursuit to get back on my feet.
Run, little mouse. They're coming for you.
I make it about fifteen feet before a loud cracking noise echoes in the brittle
wind. Gasping, I turn my head in time to see a rope snap around Ben’s ankle, sending him flying straight up into the air. His crossbow drops from his hands, thudding to the ground next to Phoebe.
My mouth drops, a shocked laugh tinkling out as Ben’s shouts of fury fill the air, wiggling like a worm on a hook as he swings from above. Even from hundreds of feet away, you can hear the gasps of shock and outrage from the house.
Phoebe must’ve waited until Ben approached her and then released the wire
right when he was in the crosshairs of it.
"Let me down right now!" Ben shouts, and though the shadows conceal his face, I know it's cherry red. "I will fucking kill you for this."
And he will. I know it.
Phoebe knows it, too.
Our eyes clash for a moment, and then her gaze slowly drops to the crossbow.
“Phoebe…” I warn.
“I’m dead, anyways,” she rasps, grabbing the crossbow in her hands, and
stumbling through reloading it. Glancing around nervously, I tuck myself behind
a tree, wary of another arrow flying my way. I need to run—like ten seconds ago, but I can’t pull myself away.
“Don’t do it, little girl,” Xavier calls out from the depths of the trees. I bristle, warring with the need to run and stay by Phoebe's side. Neither of us can see him, but his attention seems to be focused on the girl loading a dangerous weapon with the desire to kill on her fingertips.
"Help! Fucking help me!" Ben screams, wriggling fiercely but getting nowhere. He's suspended above a deadly angel, and her arrow will show no mercy to the wicked.
"God fucking dammit, Xavier, GET HER! GET HER—"
She ignores them both, takes aim, and right when she pulls the trigger,
another arrow is zipping through the air and plunging into her other shoulder.
She cries out, the scream echoing, but her own arrow strikes true, embedding
directly into the top of Ben’s skull and killing him instantly, the rest of his sentence silenced by a metal arrowhead.
Covering my mouth, I watch as blood pours down like a waterfall directly on
top of her, but she’s too busy laughing maniacally to notice.
Once more, she meets my wide stare. So many words rise to the tip of my tongue, none of them sufficient. Goosebumps rise on my skin, and all I want to do is tell her how proud I am. How fucking admirable and brave she is. We both
know she’s not going to make it through the night, but this was her choice.
“Go,” she mouths. With one last lingering look, I take off, hoping she can see