Timber

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Cornfield Crossroads

For a brief, heart-stopping moment, the entire cornfield was bathed in an otherworldly glow, illuminating the surrounding area with an unsettling radiance. Once the ball of light from the flare had reached its peak it began its descent back down to the earth. The sight filled Hazel with a sense of foreboding, a harbinger of the danger that lurked just beyond the horizon. Silus's attention was fixed upwards, his posture tensed, pulling subtly on his handcuffed wrists. The rest of the group fell into a hushed silence, their attention fixed on the fading light. The red glow of the flare burned out to nothing as it fell.

Eve's snicker, a nasal sound filled with amusement, pierced the strained silence. She shifted her focus from the sky to Hazel, her expression alive with challenge and anticipation.

Hazel's breath caught in her throat as the only remnants of the flare were the wisps of smoke that lingered in the sky. So, this was how it was to be. Caleb was inevitably on his way, with Elara and Julian in tow, no doubt. He's not the type to hold back, and if he finds us here, outnumbered or not, it won't end well. We need a plan, and fast. Hazel's hand that held the sickle wavered.

Eve's gaze clouded as she glanced towards Grace, her expression twisting into one of derision. "Oh, by the way, go ahead and kill her," Eve suggested casually, her thumb idly caressing the knife in her hand, "It'll save me the trouble."

"What?" The question erupted simultaneously from Owen and Grace; shock evident in their voices.

"Hazel, please. I didn't mean-" Grace's body trembled with her words.

"Come on," Eve taunted as her smirk widened, her gaze flicking between Hazel and Grace. "Let's see if the girl from seven has what it takes to actually be a victor," she prodded.

Hazel felt the sickle's handle slickened beneath her sweaty palms. Grace stiffened her grasp, and she thought she heard a soft whimper. 

"Please, don't," Owen implored, his voice breaking as he discarded his weapon to the ground, distancing himself and holding his hands up. Aaron pulled his blade back from Owen's ear but watched him carefully.

Eve was already at a disadvantage and here she was trying to get Hazel to off one of her alliance partners. Was this genuine or yet another manipulation? Hazel raised an eyebrow at Eve. "So, you'd have me eliminate one of your own?" she challenged.

Eve's scrutiny shifted to Grace, dismissively scanning her. "Some are more of a liability than an asset." A smirk formed on her lips, and her green eyes darkened, "Dead weight, if you will. Sometimes you just need to lighten the load. So, what are you going to do?"

Hazel's fingers ran over the sickle's handle, its sharp edge a mere whisper away from Grace's throat. Grace held her breath, tilting her head as far back from the blade as she could manage. "I don't take orders from you," Hazel retorted, her tone firm.

Eve's grin widened, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. "Just from Snow, right?" Her words dripped with insinuation.

"Jealous?" Hazel gave her a questioning look as she loosened her grip on the sickle.

Eve's smile faltered, her demeanor hardening into something more serious. "Don't flatter yourself," she snapped back, "Your little narrative with Snow? I'm not convinced."

Hazel felt a surge of anxiety at Eve's words. Was she merely trying to provoke her, or did she truly see through the facade? She masked her unease with a soft chuckle, leaning in as if sharing a secret. "Can't help who you fall for," she replied.

Eve scoffed, her scrutiny sweeping over Hazel with disdain, from the fiery red of her hair to the stained boots she wore. "Please, he had his pick of anyone, and he chose... what? A district girl? From district seven, no less?" She shook her head, amusement clear in her voice. "It's laughable."