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Despite my reluctance to do so, I needed to go. There was no telling how close the A.R.C were or if they’d employ a full-on search militia. I had to get out ahead of them and this storm.
Shifting Marcy’s weight from my lap, I kept my gaze trained on the metal cuffs shackling our wrists together. I couldn’t look at her face anymore. It was bad enough that this would be my last memory of us together. The pain inside me had a familiar numbness beginning to pound against my brain.
Careful
ly, I reached out and gave a small tug on the center chain.
How was I supposed to get this off? I tinkered with it for a few more minutes, realizing that there was no way I could break it. Sliding it over our hands wasn’t an option either.
There was only one way to separate us, and with time dwindling I had no choice but to act fast. If caught, I would never have a chance to escape again, and Marcy’s death would have been for nothing.
I grabbed hold of her lower wrist and began to twist, forcing her thin limb to turn at an unnatural angle. My stomach rebelled at what I was doing. Salted tears came hot and quick. But what other choice did I have? I would’ve traded places with her in an instant if I’d been given the chance, but I couldn’t.
All I could do right then was detach us.
Dragging her body wasn’t a viable option. It would take more strength than I could exert and majorly slow me down. If this didn’t work, the last resort would be chewing through her flesh. The mere idea of that had me forcing back a gag. I’d do it if I had to, though. I couldn’t go back. I wouldn’t.
Gripping Marcy’s wrist a little tighter, I applied more pressure and jerked. Her body came forward in the process, but that didn’t stop me from twisting. Her skin became taut and pinched. My stomach churned violently as something popped, sounding like the breaking of a stick.
Beneath her flesh, the bone visibly shifted, allowing me to slip the cuff over her now grotesque wrist. The instant it was off, I recoiled as if I’d been burned and the limb fell to Marcy’s side, looking as if it no longer belonged.
I stood up and began moving backward. Before turning away, I hesitated, hating that I had to leave Marcy like this, disgusted for having broken a part of her.
I’d heard there was beauty in death, but as I searched for it, I couldn’t find any. Nothing was beautiful about this.
She’d be left here to rot. Her flesh would become one with the soil, something for worms and maggots to feast on until only bone remained. She deserved so much better. They all did.
Facing the other direction, I took off as quickly and quietly as possible, careful where I placed my feet. The speed in which I’d lost everyone I cared for was staggering, but there wasn’t any time to grieve. The lump in my throat that was making it hard to swallow had to be ignored.
The wind picked up momentum and gradually began to howl. I kept moving forward, going whichever way the terrain carried me. Stumbling through an alien wasteland, I missed the sign warning me to turn back.
I foolishly crossed into a part of the Badlands known only as the Devil’s Playground.
Little did I know I’d escaped a prison just to enter hell.
CHAPTER THREE
Have you ever wondered what your purpose was? You sit down and get to thinking about what you’re going to do with your life, just to realize you’ve been fucking off and doing absolutely shit for more than half of it.
That wasn’t relevant in my case, but I almost felt bad for the hopeless folk it applied to.
This was the Badlands. Maybe way back in the day people wanted to be lawyers, judges, or some other governing official, but the only law here was my father’s. Soon to one day be mine. Doctors? I had the best surgeons anyone could find at my disposal, and they didn’t need a degree to prove it. Their skill spoke for itself.
Point was, no type of aspiration from the past era was relevant anymore, which was why I was sitting here unable to comprehend the way some of the forms in front of me had been filled out.
I wasn’t entirely sure who came up with this application idea in the first place, but I didn’t approve of the questions or the process. These people applying for work at various compounds or factories that operated beneath the Savage reign… Why did I need to know what the fuck they aspired to be? If you could do electrical work, fantastic. I didn’t want to read an essay on electricians. Crumbling my fifth application into a ball, I launched it into the waste basket and then reached for another. The first line alone was cause for an immediate no.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Why are you even doing that?” Ice asked, looking up from the book he was reading. On the majorly worn cover, there was an image of a boy running alongside two dogs.
“Because Bella quit.” I sent a pointed look in my baby sister’s direction, and her blue eyes lifted to meet mine.
“Luce, everyone is going to try and get into the Savages or Venom now. Half of those people probably lied.”
“You’re not seriously this restless, are you?” Ice asked.
“This is being productive. Who else would do it?”
