Fugitives by Jes Drew

Author:Jes Drew [Drew, Jes]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boo's Books
Published: 2018-06-05T05:00:00+00:00

~~~

“Shoot him and you die.”

Got to get away. Got to get away from the guns before I hurt someone-

Suddenly, a gun goes off again. Christopher stumbles backwards.

No, the Masters will hurt us anyway. There’s no escaping the danger. From outside, from inside-

“God, forgive him,” I whisper as I pull the trigger.

I could have killed him. I should have killed him. I’m glad I didn’t kill him. I wish I did. I wish none of this happened.

Pushing open our balcony door, I step into the cool night air. Have to get away. Have to escape. Danger is right behind me, hunting me down-

Christopher's blood. All over my hands. I freeze, horrified at everything.

I am the danger. I have to get away from them before I hurt them. Before-

“Emily, stop!”

They’re coming. The Masters are coming. I have to get away.

Desperation joins my terror and I start climbing the balcony gate-

Suddenly, something thumps behind me.

Releasing a scream, I throw myself over the rail-

Just as hands grab my waist and yank me back, back, back-

I land on top of my attacker and flail helplessly, trying to get away. But my attacker is so strong, holding me down-

“Emily, stop!”

That voice. Not a Masters. A Williams.

Blinking, I feel the scales of sleep fall from my already eyes and I see what really is. Wonder what was happening in real life while I was trapped in a distorted reality. “I-I’m awake.”

“Are you sure?” Christopher’s voice is mixed with something. Anger? Yes, and something else. Fear?

Still, Christopher’s grip on me loosens and I turn around to find him underneath me, his golden hair tousled and his shirt unbuttoned all the way down, like he just threw it on.

My face heats up at the thought of what we must look like, wrestling out here, with him almost half-naked.

He gently sets me down beside him and sits up. “Emily, what happened?”

I purse my lips together. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Raking a hand through his curls, he doesn’t take his eyes off me, like he’s scared I might lose it again. “I don’t know. I was having trouble sleeping so I thought I’d step out onto our balcony. And what do I find on the ladies’ balcony right next to mine?”

“What?”

His eyes narrow, like he’s trying to figure out the sincerity of my comment. “I find my friend trying to throw herself off.”

My heart ices over. We’re what, three stories up? I could’ve died. In my sleep. Helpless and-

“Emily, tell me honestly.” He leans forward and seems to notice for the first time his state of un-dress-ment. His fingers begin to re-button the shirt but turns his gaze back to me. “Were you trying to-”

I shake my head. “No, no. I would never do such a thing. Awake.” But apparently none of the good decisions and willpower of being awake affects what happens to me when I go to sleep. No, then I’m prey to my own past and trauma and stress.

And maybe some other Evil?

Christopher continues to study me.

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