“TALLY!” I’m cut off by a screech, that has both me and Tally jumping away from each other and this conversation that needs to happen.
One of the island’s people comes running up, fear circling their irises, as they flash around a piece of parchment.
Tally puts all her attention on the newcomer. Her tone noticeably shifting from irritation to caring. “Whats wrong? What happened?”
The newcomer hands over the parchment. In big blood red letters it reads;
Our so-called ‘leader’ has invited pirates to our island over and over.
Now she’s done it again, all in hopes of having them solve her problems.
She’s weak and pathetic, needing the help of viciousness to rule over us.
No longer will we allow our ‘leader’ to brutalise our lands.
It’s time to brutalise her!
My stomach drops.
This isn’t happening, no one is getting close enough to Tally for that to happen.
Looking up at the scared person who brought this to us, I ask, “Where did you find this and when?”
They swallow, fear evident in the way their hands tremble, as they rub them together. “Outside the barber’s, I noticed it as I went to open up for the day. I don’t know when it was put up.”
I nod at the person and turn my attention to Tally. She’s shaken too, tremors working their way through her body, as she keeps her eyes fixed on the parchment in front of her.
Not wanting her to read it– to continue reading the threat on her life that it is– I snatch it from her hands and examine itmyself. The red ink is dry, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t written earlier and only now just stuck to the wall.
When Tally looks up with wide eyes, I demand, “Take me to the barber’s, right now. You’re not leaving my side after that.”
Tally barely manages a coherent nod.
Grabbing her hand, without much care of how it looks to anybody else, I start dragging her down the cobblestone street. Hoping she’ll snap out of it enough to tell me which shop we'll need to stop at.
Chapter Thirty-Three
TALLY
Cyrus races down the street, dragging me along behind her. Her grip is strong, but soft. She has no idea where she’s going, head darting from side to side as we pass each building. I want to tell her we need to go straight to the end and take a right, but words aren’t working.
My throat is clogged; packed full of panic.
Each poster so far has been slandering my name, insults and such. This is the first to outright threaten me. It’s also the first time the ink wasn’t black. The words written in blood red ink, still flash behind my eyes every time I dare blink. At least Ihopeit’s ink, with the deep viscous colour, it’s more than likely the real deal.
I try not to choke on my sobs, as the coastal line blurs behind a swarm of salty tears.
Cyrus’s hold doesn’t tighten or loosen, just holds gently. Keeping me close, whilst she runs full steam ahead with a plan.
When we reach the end of the road lined with shops, just before it leads into the dock. Cyrus stops, brows scrunching in confusion, as she sweeps her gaze back up and down the path we just ran down.
“What the fuck? Did we pass it?”
Still unable to speak, I shake my head and lift the hand not bound in hers, to point along the shore line. The smaller paved pathway leads to a small handful of store fronts, like the barbers.
The confusion works its way out of Cyrus’s features as she sees it, leaving room for determination to set in.
Just as she did before, she keeps her grip on me, dragging me gently down the path, until we’re at the barbers. The weathered green paint on driftwood, hanging over the doorway leads the way for Cyrus.
