Page 31 of Lucky 14

Slowly, I creep back into my hiding spot. The pained groans stop, and the excited noises get more annoyed.

Finally, they stop, and silence settles over the woods.

I hold my breath, squeezing my eyes shut. Are they going to realize they aren’t alone?

“Well, thanks for that, Twenty-Seven.”

There’s a group chuckle. “Stick with me, and this can be night one of the best two weeks of your life.”

I feel sick.

The men continue moving around for a bit, then their voices fade as they slowly leave the area.

I stay crouched, frozen. It could be a trap. They could be waiting for me to think they’re gone.

Slowly, the birds start singing again. And yet, I stay. I'm here, and the birds are still singing. The men could very well be doing the same thing I am.

Then the sun starts to set. And yet, I stay. I don’t know what to do. I’m pretty sure there’s a dead person just below me. A dead person.

The gravity of the situation I’m in locks into my muscles, freezing me on the spot.

This is a game I’m playing with my own mental health. Either I flit through it like I’m in a dream, or I treat the hallucination like it’s real. Because on the off chance it is, I could actually die.

I feel bugs start to crawl over my skin, and a chill settles over me.

I don’t want to play this game. Clenching my fists together, I dig my nails into my palm. I don’t want to fucking play!

The terrified part of my brain just wants to scream. To fight someone. To beg them for meds. To beg them to tell me I’m making all of this up.

I have to do something. I can’t just hide in this spot until I get killed.

Stepping outside of my hiding spot, I look around. It’s dark, although there’s a little orange light in the sky from where the hunters came from. I can’t see far, but I listen. Other than the sounds of the forest, I hear nothing.

I hesitate, torn between going the opposite direction the men did and checking the man for supplies. I don’t want to see a bloody body in the middle of the woods, even though he deserved it. But I know if I want to survive this, I’ll have to mix a healthy amount of smarts and panic. And I can be just as dead from dehydration as being killed. And what if he has water? And food?

I take one step in the direction of the man, and then the smell of smoke hits my nose. I pause for a second, looking around. Smoke? It smells like a campfire.

Then, something snaps off to my right. I freeze, looking around, eyes wide. It sounds like…running.

Immediately, I dart back up the outcropping to where I was, then keep going. I can’t be anywhere near here. I know they won’t be as lax this time.

I get winded far faster than before. Too soon. I climb over rocks and dart around trees, forced to go slower than I did before so I don’t twist an ankle. I’m going so slow it makes tears burn in my eyes.

I can hear the person running behind me. It sounds like just one, but it’s hard to tell.

I suck in breath after breath, lungs burning. This is it. This is how I go.

Finally, I whirl, ready to face the man head-on. I refuse to die running. I’ll fight, just like Connor taught me to.

And that’s when someone slams into me.

I scream, falling to the ground, a heavy weight following me. Thrashing, I grab a handful of dirt, throwing it back in the man’s face and rolling over. He follows me, rolling on top of me with a grunt, a heavy weight on my throat.

I suck in a breath, a weird feeling of finality settling over me. This is it. This is how I die.

“Fourteen?”

The pressure at my throat loosens.