Page 41 of Lucky 14

The sky between the trees is glowing orange. It’s bright and unnatural-looking. Slowly, I realize that something is on fire. Something big.

There’s the crunch of gravel, and then Seven’s running, leaving me very alone. In the dark. With a forest fire.

And it’s all very, very real.

Danger washes over me, hitting so hard I can’t breathe.

Don’t leave me.

He didn’t try to kill me. He’s real, and he didn’t try to kill me.

So, I get up and chase after Seven. I trail after him all night. Not close enough to let him kill me if he has second thoughts, but not too far to lose him.

At some point, I stop, letting Seven get farther and farther until I can’t see or hear him. And then the deep…aloneness of the forest settles over me like a heavy blanket. It’s nothing but me, the dark trees, rocks, and hills, and the impending massive fire. As I stand there, the wind whispering in the leaves, it feels how it felt on the kitchen floor after Connor was gone. Solitary.

My chest squeezes in pain, suffocating my heart. Dulling the beats so I can barely feel them. Even my heartbeat abandons me, and I’m completely alone. Just…a vast space of nothing except myself, and the only other person I vaguely know running off into the distance.

And so I keep going. I sprint in the direction Seven disappeared, terror that I lost him for good flowing through my veins. Pure panic fuels me, and when I catch a glimpse of his dark form, I slow. He’s still here. He’s not gone. Not like Connor is. He’s not Connor; he is still here. I am not on my own in this fucked up game.

I keep following him because I know how easy it is to get paralyzed. How much easier it is for the brain to decide things are too overwhelming and just…shut off. Putting one foot in front of the other convinces my brain that I’m doing something to stay safe. Even if it’s the wrong choice, I’m still doing something. Playing the game in my head since I have no idea how to play it any other way.

By the time the grey morning lights the sky, my eyes are gritty. I’ve been hearing a crashing sound for a while now, but I stumble and blink when I realize the crashing sound is waves. We’ve reached a beach. For a second, I stare at it through the trees. The water is still dark against the slightly grey sky and stretches as far as I can see to the right and the left. And the smell. It’s salt and seaweed, and I suck in a breath.

“Fourteen.”

I jump, my gaze darting up. Seven is standing next to a large tree, just a few paces away from me.

Scrambling back, I put some distance between us. Fuck! When did I get so close? Why the fuck wasn’t I paying attention? My head feels foggy, and everything hurts. Sleep deprivation is a powerful debilitator.

Seven pulls the backpack off his shoulders and drops to the ground. He ignores me, grabbing a half-full water bottle out of his bag and guzzling it. Suddenly, I’m reminded of how dry my mouth is.

I watch Seven, unsure of what he’s going to do. He continues to ignore me, Adam's Apple dipping as he drinks.

My mouth is so damn dry. Slowly, I twist my backpack around enough to grab my water from it. I only have half a water left. I try to take one swallow, but it unlocks a thirst from deep inside. My whole body aches for water, and I drink the rest of it down, feeling slight relief.

Warily, I look over at Seven. He’s watching me with a guarded expression.

He could have killed me earlier, and he didn’t. Could have murdered me for my supplies, and he just…let me go.

So he’s playing a game, same as me. He’s also just trying to survive. Or is it more?

For a while, we do nothing. Just watch each other. Seven looks tired. Sweaty. Pale.

I realize he’s spared me twice now. Once in the basement and once when he ran into me. And possibly a third time when he threw the backpack at me. An overwhelming mix of fatigue and emotion washes over me. I owe him…something. I don’t know what, but fucking something.

“Thanks.” My voice comes out gritty, and I clear it. “For…helping me.”

Seven doesn’t even look at me. He digs in his pocket and drops something in his bag, pulling it out and flipping it aimlessly. A spark lights in the gray of dawn. A lighter?

I stand there in the silence, growing uncomfortable. Was that the wrong thing to say? The more he just sits there, the more I feel the pressure in my chest build, and that pressure morphs from gratitude to fear. What is going on? Why won’t he acknowledge me? Why protect me and then…ignore me?

I open my mouth to say something, then he turns, and I notice Seven’s ear tag is bleeding. The blood runs down the side of his face and into his shirt, darkening it. His ripped shirt. In fact, all his clothes are worse than mine. As my gaze dips down, I notice that the crotch of his pants is dark.

Dark like his shirt. Like it’s…blood. Only, it’s not from his ear tag. The blood is only centered there, like his groin is bleeding.

I suck in a breath. My gaze darts up to meet Seven’s. For a second, he looks behind him like he thinks I saw someone coming. Then, he realizes where I’m looking, and for just a second, Seven gives me the same look Connor did when I tried to hit him. It’s a haunted, empty look that makes me feel sick.

Seven’s face twists in anger. “Why are you following me?”