Worth The Shot

Into the Sun

Today's fanart has me hyperventilating ahhh It's by @mochiminie_ It's the hallway scene from wayyy back in chapter 3. The shading is SO GOOD in this picture and I'm IN LOVE!! 

BACK TO THE STORY

"Someone's here! Don't let them escape!"

Please don't be the old man. Please don't be the old man.

You could outrun a guard. Lose them in the zigzag of burrows. But the old man could intercept you with greedy tendrils of chains from afar. Maybe even without looking. 

The walls threateningly compressed, and you ducked your head. The massive weight of the mountain lurked unsteadily over your bones. A claustrophobic panic dully infected your chest. Would it collapse? With his gift, the old man could crush you on a whim. Constrict the dirt until it filled your mouth and lungs. 

The terrified thought pumped determination into your legs. You wouldn't drown underground. Your lungs ached for fresh oxygen, your skin begged for sunlight. 

The thumping footsteps behind you approached like swirled clouds that plunged darkness over the sun. Inevitable. Furious. Swift. 

A sharp, jagged snare snagged the hem of your dress. You stumbled, and a paralyzing, trapped fear injected your veins. Move. You have to move, You pleadingly commanded your detached, wobbly hands. They didn't. 

You could see your pursuers now, their shadowy outlines advancing like a nightmarish militia. 

Dolores. You have to get to Dolores. You firmly repeated. That's all you have to do. Get to Dolores. 

Frantically tugging it free, your eyes splashed on the chunky row of silvery stones that encircled the entrance. You distractedly heaved over the one restraining your dress, breaking the deliberate ring. 

"You, there! Stop in the name of the Candellas!" A sharp command rattled the stagnant underground musk. You couldn't breath. He was close. You didn't dare look back. Your feet choppily tore back the ground, unbalanced by the chains that cinched your hands together. 

Your unguarded face smashed into a moist, dirt wall. A dead end. They'd cornered you. 

"Get away from there!" Another man shouted, mere footsteps away. "I have a knife, and I will throw it!" You shakily turned around, slowly raising your hands. A debate waged inside you: Fight, risking death, or surrender?

The reluctant answer steeled your eyes. Your charged muscles coiled, ready to fight for Camilo's family. But the guard's words oddly piqued your mind.

Get away from where? I thought this was a dead end. You feverishly searched for anything. Any unlikely beacon of salvation or magical escape. There. A glint on the ceiling. Thin slits of sunlight cut a three-sided square into the roof. The trapdoor. 

Concentrating your adrenaline, you exploded upward, shoving its hinges open. White-hot light flooded everywhere, watering your eyes and blinding you. A knife whizzed by, chipping your arm like pale porcelain. 

You scurried up the ladder, squinting painfully. As if the sun itself had missed you, warm rays incited flames on your skin and blazed bright. You couldn't see a thing, but you blundered forward into the light. 

Your vision throbbed back, and with it the stinging sharpness from where the knife had grazed you. Yellowed grass crunched underfoot, dead and wilted. You could see the beckoning, orange-bricked outskirts of the village in the distance. 

The guards burst into the dizzying light, hounding after you. Your heart sank. You'd never make it. Once again, your eyes desperately swept the countryside for a miracle. But who would venture this close to the mountains?

Mariano. You recognized his broad shoulders from your father's guitar shop. Hunched over a string-bound notebook, thoughtfully swishing words into the paper. A sweet breeze fluffed his silky, ebony hair. Alone among the rustling grass and chittering birds, he released a dreamy sigh. 

"Mariano! Help me!" You breathily wheezed, hurtling closer. You hated to dislodge his introspective poetry session, but you hated fleeing from vengeful guards even more. Mariano's free verse could wait. 

Mariano's eyebrows gently lifted, his dark, brown eyes confused. Startled by your cuts and chains, he jolted to his feet. 

"Oh, no, what happened?" He wondered, studying your face with shy concern. Heaving air, you pointed to the guards. Mariano determinedly planted his feet, a barrier between you and your hunters. "Don't worry. I won't let them get you." 

He balled his fists, preparing to fight.