Page 30 of Lucky 14

No one should be running at me. They can’t even see me.

That spurs me forward. I grab my backpack and take off. Only, my movement is loud, and it doesn’t take long for my blind sprinting to wind me. I crash into brush and leaves that snap and crack and announce my presence. My breathing is heavy, and I’m exhausted from everything that’s happened.

The yelling gets louder.

Fuck!

I press harder, pushing my legs as fast as they’ll go, scrambling to get up over large rock piles.

This is not good. My thoughts are in a panic.

They’re too close. They’re too close, and I’ll never be able to outrun them.

I’ll have to outsmart them.

Immediately, I force myself to slow down and breathe.

Think Holli, think.

I’m standing near the top of an outcropping of rocks. The branches of the trees around provide some good cover, but I duck behind a large rock, so I’m completely hidden.

The men’s voices sound below me. There’s a scream of terror that immediately makes my heart try to burst out of my chest. I need to fight. To do anything that gets rid of the threat. But I force myself to stay still. I can’t fight. I have no weapons. I also can’t run. Running now will only alert them to my presence.

“We got him, boys!”

There’s a thud, then a yell. Then more yelling. It’s loud and aggressive and excited, and it bounces off the rocks around me. I stay crouched down, wanting to scream and fight.

There’s a series of thuds that sounds an awful lot like punches. Skin thudding on skin, feet skidding over the ground, then pained grunts. They’re fist-fighting by the sounds of it, and someone is already losing.

I squeeze my eyes shut, the sounds of the fight triggering old memories. Memories I try to keep buried.

Thud, smack, crunch. There’s a groan, then more excited yelling. I try to force myself to breathe and count the number of people. It sounds like there are three men plus one who they’re attacking.

My stomach turns, and I force myself not to heave. I can’t do anything.

But the sounds of suffering rip at my heart. Putting my belly on the ground, I inch my head forward till I can see past the rock. At first, I don’t see anything. Then, there’s a flash. I see a man dressed in a camo shirt. Then another in a black, form-fitting shirt. I think he has some sort of mask on. The men are a good fifty feet below me.

There’s a loud crunch, then a groan of pain.

My fingers twitch, and I inch forward until my whole head is out from behind the rock. The men don’t look up. They’re too focused on their target. The most terrifying thing is they seem fucking real.

“Fucking easy, you know that? Caught you in the first hour.”

I see another person in an orange shirt. He definitely has a mask on. It’s weird with some sort of animal on it.

And then I see the man they have. He’s lying curled to the side, and there’s blood. Lots of it. I can’t quite see his face.

The sight of someone curled up on the ground makes me feel sick. Old memories threaten to surface of someone else curled up on the ground. Someone with kind eyes that stared up into the air like someone made a wax figure of them, but couldn’t capture the life in their eyes. The kindness.

Someone delivers a kick, and the man shifts just enough that I can see the man they’re assaulting.

It’s the man who tried to rape me in my dream.

Everything slows. A rush of emotions flutters in my chest. If that was real…then I’m in more danger than I could possibly process.

The men continue their beating. They continue on for so long, I know the victim’s chances of living are slim. One wrong hit to the head, and he’s done.

Mixed emotions fill me. At some point, I realize that if he dies, the men are going to stop being distracted. And then it hits me that the man they’re beating is just that—a man. Strong. Muscled. Much more so than me.