Chapter Two

Chapter Two

 

Crys peered over Drake’s shoulder as he wrote. He usually made her wait until he was done with his stories before he let her read them. “That doesn’t sound realistic. I don’t think that’s how I would react if something like that happened,” she protested, pointing at his latest sentence. He turned to look at her. “She isn’t you. Not everyone reacts the same way. Now let me write will you?”
“Fine.” She repositioned herself and continued watching in silence until the phone rang.

 

“It must be dad,” Crys responded, getting up to answer the phone.

“Is Drake there?”
“Hello. Yes, he is.”
“Good. We will be there in an hour with breakfast. See you.”

“Your dad?”
“Two years of silence must have been easy for him. He never was very talkative.”

“It was hard for him.”
“How do you know?”
“He talked to me.”

 

Crys stared at him blankly. “He talked to you?”
“Every two weeks or so. Wanted to know how you were doing.”

Crys swallowed hard, fighting the rising anger over their secrecy.

“I can’t believe you never told me.”
“I know.”

 

Sighing, Crys sat down next to Drake once more, peering onto the tablet. Drake turned to look at her with a frustrated smirk. “Here, it’s finished,” he said, handing her the tablet as he got up. “Do you want more coffee as well?”
She nodded absentmindedly, handing him her empty cup as her eyes focused on the screen. Chuckling, Drake went to get the coffee.

 

The hour dragged on, turning into two, and Crys grew anxious. Drake watched her pace the floor, coffee cup in hand. Every few minutes, she looked out the front door, biting her fingernail.

Finally she saw the family’s metallic blue vehicle pull into the driveway and her family pile out. However even as her hand moved to open the door, it froze in shock at what was happening on their driveway in broad daylight. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened, then shut again. She watched in stunned shock her father jerked mid-stride, and then fell to the ground, a pool of blood streaming from his head.

 

As her mother turned towards her father’s body, her head snapped back and she fell to the ground as well, a perfect red circle on her forehead. Her two younger siblings ran toward their parents and fell to the ground in quick succession, surrounded by pools of blood. Crys’ cup fell to the floor with a crash and she froze in place, unable to think, move, or scream.

 

After what seemed like a lifetime, she forced her body in motion and reached to fling the door open. She was stopped by a pair of strong arms pulling her back. “Don’t go out there. Whatever you do, do not go out there. They might be waiting to shoot you too,” she heard Drake’s voice saying. Everything blurred; she panicked. She struggled to break free from his grasp, as he turned her around and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Crys. Listen to me now. Remember I told you that it’s never a matter of hours and days with the Restok, but a matter of minutes and seconds? We don’t have time. Follow me.”

 

He pulled a silver stele and turned toward the stairs just as the veranda glass door shattered. Shoving Crys to the ground, he whirled around to face the broken bits of glass, releasing the blade as he turned, hurling it at the figure in the doorway.

 

Drake didn’t give her a chance to react, but, grabbing her arm, dragged her up the stairs. He raced for her parents’ bedroom and flung the door open, Crys stumbling in behind him. Drake made a move for the bathroom door, closed it, and locked it from the outside. Then he walked into the closet and rummaged around. “Drake! What is that out there, and what are we doing in here?” Crys pleaded in a panic. Drake reemerged from the walk-in closet and Crys grabbed his arm. “Drake?”

 

“There is a trapdoor in there. Once I am out, I want you to lock the bedroom door behind me, then go down that trapdoor and shut it. Leave the closet door open. Don’t ask questions, just do it. Please!” His eyes implored hers.

 

Crys opened her mouth as if to speak, but then simply nodded, releasing his arm. He ran out of the room and dashed down the stairs, never once looking back. Crys hastily locked the door and then scurried toward the trapdoor. Her feet felt for the ladder, and she let herself down, closing the trapdoor behind her. She continued to climb down the ladder, wondering if it would ever end. It was horribly dark and she shivered, hoping no small creatures had found their way in the pitch darkness.

 

After what seemed like half an eternity, the ladder came to an end and her feet touched ground. The blackness seemed to increase as Crys looked around, searching for light. She felt around and found three solid dirt walls; behind the ladder and on either side of it. There seemed to be a path leading straight away from the ladder. It was fairly narrow; Crys could touch the walls on either side of her simultaneously.

 

Running her hands along the dirt walls, she slowly made her way forward, trying her best to swallow her fear. She hadn’t been walking long when she heard a noise from the direction of the ladder. The gasp caught halfway up her throat. They had found the trapdoor! They were coming after her! Swallowing hard, she broke into a run, hoping the passage didn’t dead end. She just wished she could see something, anything. Her only solace was that if she couldn’t see, then her assailants could not see anything either.

 

Breathing heavily, the adrenaline pumping, blood rushing in her ears, Crys sped across the uneven ground in a blind panic. But as the panic took over, so did instinct. She could not see, so her ears did the work. Her nerves tensed and her feet anticipated the ground’s unevenness. The sound increased, and she could hear footsteps following her. There were three of them, although how she knew that, she could not say.

 

As instinct took over, her senses enhanced, and her eyes were able to make out figures and shapes. The path ended abruptly and Crys searched desperately for a way out, her hands roaming over the desolate wall. She could hear the footsteps catching up and her desperation increased.

 

There! What was that?! She suppressed a cry of joy. There were footholds in the dirt wall, leading up! Hastily, she clambered up, hoping it did not dead end. Her hands and feet instinctively searched for more grooves and with her heart racing in her throat, she felt her head brush against the ceiling. Holding fast to the wall with her feet and left hand, her right hand pushed against the dirt above her, frantically searching for a way out.

 

Dirt crumbled and fell in her hair and eyes, but she persisted, and was rewarded when her fingers brushed against wood. She continued feeling with her hand and made out the shape of a square trapdoor. In desperate panic, she shoved against the door with all her might, and it miraculously swung open.

 

Taking a deep breath, she leapt for the opening and her hands clawed at the grass surrounding the opening. Her legs swung midair, trying to give her the push she needed to climb out. She groaned from the pain of hanging on, and with another deep breath and muted cry, she heaved herself up and rolled onto the wet grass.

 

Breathing heavily, she stared up at the night sky, but there was no time to remain lying there. She had to get away or stop them, fast! She scrambled to her feet and slammed the trapdoor shut, looking around for a way to weigh it down so that whoever was after her could not open it. Her eyes made out a wheelbarrow several feet away, to the right. Still acting in blind instinct, she stumbled toward it and rolled it on top of the trapdoor.

 

To the left she saw a small pile of boulders. With the strength only an endangered human can find, she lifted one boulder after another and flung it into the wheelbarrow to weigh it down. She then collapsed into an exhausted heap next to it, wondering what to do and where to go next.

 

“Impressive, I must say,” a voice spoke suddenly from the darkness. Crys leaped to her feet, searching for the voice’s source. A tall shadow stepped out from the edge of the forest. For a moment they both stood in silence, staring at each other. The shadow was a tall man covered in a black cloak. Crys was still trying to regain control of her breathing as she stared at him in fear and wonder. The tall figure took a step closer toward her, and her entire body tensed, anticipating his next movement.

 

“You have strength, and instincts. But you are not a warrior yet,” he said, drawing a long knife from his sleeve and leaping at her. Crys’ first reaction was to run, but he caught her mid-turn. She didn’t have a chance; he had her pinned on the ground, the knife at her throat.