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Peter was here, along with Ben and Stewart. If luck favoured us, perhaps one of the guards Stewart knew was also in this procession.
We could fight.
Here and now.
I could kill Victor. Finally.
Let myself go. Completely.
We could be free tonight.
Free or dead…either choice was better than this.
This scratching anticipation.
This nerve-wracking apprehension.
I couldn’t fucking stand it.
My blood bounced.
My muscles bunched.
I vibrated with war, all while unable to see what side my enemy would strike first.
No one talked as we cut through the earth like worms through soil.
Lanterns decorated our journey.
No glow worms.
No stalagmites or stalactites.
Just chiselled rock that’d been forced to part, leading us closer and closer to the heavy crash of surf smashing itself against stone.
No.
Fuck no.
Peter tripped and went to his knees.
Victor turned and sneered at him on the ground. “Get up, Paavak. Now.”
Peter sucked in a gasp.
“What? You didn’t think I knew your real name? I hear everything, little Peter. I know all. Why give me a false one, hmm? Yet another thing you’ve kept from me.”
I wanted to barge past the two guards in my way.
To haul my friend to his feet.
To beg him to be with me when the time came.
But the guards didn’t move, and Peter stumbled upright with a bow. “Sorry, Sir V.”
Victor chuckled and patted him on the cheek. “You know…you have my permission to say what you truly feel, my pet. Enough of these charades. I’m sick of them.”
For a moment, Peter did nothing.
