The Wastelands (Part II of the Runner Series)

Chapter 37

"Run."

My leg twists painfully beneath me as I struggle to my feet. I manage to limp a few steps along the sandy ground before my knee gives out and I fall heavily against the side of a brick building.

I can feel the heat of the fire at my back. The sound of crackling flames intermingles with the shouts of my neighbours as they flood into the street. The guards will be among them, their swords still sticky with blood.

I need to get out of here.

My breaths are ragged, my sobs barely contained as I push myself bodily onwards. My vision blurs intermittently and I run a shaky hand across my eyes in any effort to dry them. My father's dagger is still clenched tightly in my fist, reflecting the light of the full moon as I dart from alleyway to alleyway, following the route I walked countless times with my brother.

Never again.

There is the heavy tread of booted feet and I duck instinctively into the nearest gap between buildings, grinding my teeth against my ruined knee's protests. I screw my eyes shut, holding my breath as the footsteps draw closer, rounding the corner and entering my alleyway.

I press my body against the cool, unforgiving stone, not bothering to offer up a prayer to the gods as the Palace guard makes his way through the shadowed passage. It is too late for anyone to help me this night. I've already lost everything worth having.

He's so close now that I can hear his breathing, low and grating, sending shivers down my spine and causing me to grasp the dagger more securely, the hilt too large and heavy in my small hand. No matter. If I had to, I would slit his throat right here on this filthy street and let him bleed out, alone and abandoned. My heart holds no remorse for this man.

An eternity stretches into an infinity and he finally passes me by, his shuffling steps retreating around the corner of the building. I wait another endless minute, mindful of the fact that my hurt leg ruins any attempt at stealth.

I slip back into the alley and adjust my route, sticking to the shadows, my ears perked to the sounds of the guards as I weave between the tightly-packed buildings. Finally, a familiar cracked, wooden door appears in front of me, the first welcoming sight I've seen tonight.

Sharp splinters pierce my palm as I slam my hand repeatedly against the door, the desperation I've been frantically trying to keep at bay finally making itself known. My heart hammers in my chest in tune with the knocks, ricocheting through my scrawny frame and rattling my teeth.

From somewhere in the distance I can hear the men's shouts. I glance over my shoulder, my heart turning over again at the eerie orange glow illuminating the midnight buildings. A plume of blackened smoke rises into the sky, blocking out the stars and coating the Commons in a heavy shroud.

The voices of the guards grow louder as they change course, heading straight for me. I turn back to the door, pounding more furiously against it with the hilt of the dagger.

"Who's there?" Her impatient voice is suddenly the most blessed thing I have ever heard.

"It's me. It's Kay. Please, let me in." My voice comes out choked, barely coherent.

"Kay?" There is the sound of a lock being turned and the door swings open. I fall against it, stumbling into the warm entryway as my leg finally gives out. Familiar arms wrap themselves around my shoulders, holding me tightly as she locks the door firmly, securing us inside.

My body suddenly feels incredibly heavy. I sink to the ground, supported by those same strong arms as we fall back against the door, leaning heavily into one another. I can feel her heart beating furiously through her apron. She smells of saffron and henna, leftover from her day spent working in the dye mill.