Page 2 of His Innocent Mate

That was before we knew there were two.

Now, I wish they were never born. Not because I don’t love them. But because I love them so much, seeing them sad and hungry breaks my heart into a million pieces. And if I’m being honest, I never wanted the burden of caring for them.

I wish I could give up. I’m tired from pulling the damn wagon all day, and if I’m going to die, I’d rather it be lazily.

But they’re counting on me.

I pull out a water bottle and take a sip, then hand it over to my siblings. “We only have a little left, so be careful not to spill it.”

Somehow, through my exhaustion, I get a second wind and I’m able to trudge on, ignoring the cries of my siblings and the blisters forming on my heels, ignoring the pain in my arms and my stomach twisting with dread.

And after hours of persistence, I’m greeted by the first real sign of hope: a road.

It’s not well maintained, but the surrounding trees have been cleared from it, which means it’s still used by someone.

Knowing that to stop is death, I continue on, barely hearing the sounds of my brother and sister. All that exists is the road. The broken, barely maintained road.

Unfortunately, I can’t go on forever, and it looks like my time is almost up.

Dropping to my knees, I allow myself to weep, because there’s no point in pretending to be strong anymore. This is how we die. Out on the road. Hungry. Tired.

“Lyra?” I hear Carrie say.

I can’t look at them. Not after how I’ve failed.

If only we’d stayed at the cabin, then our last moments on this earth would be in comfort. I bury my face in my hands and scream my rage, but barely anything comes out, my mouth is so dry.

Everything hurts, and I know I’m never going to be able to get up again. I’m too weak.

“Lyra…”

Don’t look back.

“Lyra, Lyra, Lyra!”

I press my fingers into my ears, trying to drown out the sound of their wails, but it does little to hinder a loud screech that rips through the air.

I look up and see a huge motor vehicle. Something I haven’t seen in over ten years.

Doors slam. Footsteps sound. Voices are everywhere.

“Miss…do you hear me?”

My head swims. I can barely keep my eyes open.

“She’s dehydrated….”

“Miss?”

I try to talk, but my mouth doesn’t work. I’m dizzy, and oh, so tired. I can’t go on.

I try to look behind me but grow dizzy. Leaning forward, I fall to the ground.

“Get her in the van…”

Chapter2

LYRA

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