AllFreeNovel
Share Us
There was a period of time that I believed my life—my body—belonged to the A.R.C. I forgot everything my father told me and let myself become compliant. I turned into the very thing he’d begged me not to be before we were forced to part ways.
I thought that by doing what was asked of me I would be spared hardship. But that was then, when I didn’t understand that there would always be someone seeking to take advantage if given the chance.
It was a hard lesson to learn.
Soft and pliable was a mistake I knew to never make again. Patient and cunning served me better.
It’s what led me to make a fateful decision the same day I found myself being herded like a broodmare down a dirt trail. One Exarch preached the sacred word of his bullshit Cardinal, saying the same lines repeatedly.
Three more followed behind him along with various other Exarchs. They each held a tiny wooden cross that had never aligned with their ideologies. Guerrillas were there as well, each in possession of a gun on their waistbands.
The poppy fields were in full bloom, serving as a reminder that for all the beauty in the world, it was inherently cruel. Side by side twelve of us went; dressed in thin gowns of white with matching flowers woven into our hair.
It was meant to represent purity for our future husbands—whoever they may have been. I’d been engaged since I was thirteen and had never once laid eyes on the man I was meant to marry. All I knew of him was that he was a Stag.
The whole thing came off like some terrible comedy skit. Marrying someone who had the complete opposite mindset to what the Cardinal stood for… It was a joke, a twisted method for control. I didn’t know what he got out of the deal.
That all mattered little now, though. I wouldn’t be meeting whoever this man was. I glanced discreetly at Marcy, catching her eye. She gave a slight shake of her head and then quickly set her sights back forward.
What was that?
Had she gott
en cold feet?
She couldn’t possibly mean to get on the truck waiting somewhere up ahead. I knew our plan was risky. It was shortly devised, considering we began coming up with it in the early morning hours after Dasia’s death, but the alternative was being chauffeured off to a fate worse than that.
We escaped physical punishment for this reason alone. Instead of being disciplined, we’d been bathed, plucked, and shackled together like prisoners.
Focusing on the dirt path, I recounted where I knew each guerilla to be. Six were following along with strict orders from the prophet to shoot without hesitation if trouble should arise. The order would exclude only the brides, meaning us. At least, we assumed as much. In front of me, Claire turned her head and pretended to look at the sky.
It was our private Morse code, letting me know she was still on board with the plan. I gave another subtle tug on the thin chain that bound Marcy and me together, successfully recapturing her attention. I pointed two fingers to the right, signaling that the break in the trail was coming up.
When her hands began to shake, I wanted to reach out and reassure her, but our immunity only extended to being shot. After doing a trial run the day before, we’d been forbidden to touch one another.
I wished I could tell her that I understood her fears. I had them too. If we were caught… Well, I couldn’t go there, and I couldn’t allow myself to get in any of the vehicles idling a few yards ahead. Marcy released a soft sigh and her head slightly moved again, agreeing to what we’d discussed.
In the process of planning we’d had to include who Claire was paired with and hope she kept her mouth shut. It was a huge gamble, putting trust in a stranger, but thus far everything seemed to be fine. The dark-haired girl—Hayley, I think her name was—seemed just as apprehensive and eager to escape as we were.
I began counting down from fifteen, making sure I kept my breathing even as my heartbeat skipped forward. I got to number four and my palms began to sweat. At one, I summoned all the strength I could muster and used my unrestricted arm to shove the A.R.C member walking alongside me.
His face was a mask of surprise as he stumbled into the poppies, trying and failing to keep his balance. With him out of the way, we were able to easily veer off the trail.
We ran towards a tree line that seemed further away than it really was. Shouts and threats came from behind us, but no one dared look back. The chain shackling my wrist to Marcy’s jingled as we worked to keep the other moving.
“We aren’t going to make it,” she gasped, a sob catching in her throat.
“We will!” I poured on speed, forcing her to do the same, ignoring the stitch in my side.
Just ahead of us, Claire cleared the tree line with her companion. Right as my toes touched the end of the uneven path, two shots rang out. I was propelled forward, tripping over my own two feet. I went down fast and hard, Marcy’s scream assaulting my eardrum.
A stinging sensation spread across my skin as twigs and roughened terrain nipped at exposed flesh.
Marcy rolled with me, a painful yelp blasting from her mouth. The shackle strained from the tension but refused to break. Behind us, the shouting grew louder, sounding angrier and panicked.
“We have to keep going!”
Marcy hauled me back to my feet, giving me no choice but to run or risk being dragged. Claire had vanished somewhere in the thick foliage ahead, racing for her own freedom. I didn’t blame her. Stopping could have potentially gotten her caught. We’d agreed not to slow for any reason.
