Escape

Chapter Two

Two Months Later

Brian frowns. "Brie, you're hurt."

I look down at my leg, where a piece of shrapnel from the explosion embedded itself into my skin. "It seems like it," I admit.

Alex sighs. "Bryna, do you ever not hurt yourself?"

"Nope. I'm an injury magnet."

Brian slings my arm over his shoulder and wraps his arm around my waist. I instinctively lean my weight on him, and we continue walking.

"It'd be easier to just carry me," I point out, ignoring the extreme pain coming from my leg.

"Can I even carry you?" he asks.

"Probably not," I admit, grunting as I accidentally put weight on my injured leg. "But it's worth a shot."

Brian sighs, picking me up and carrying my bridal style. "You're actually fairly lighter than I thought," he remarks as I rest my head against the crook of his arm.

"Yeah, that's probably to do with all the walking I do. Keeps burning any calories or excess fat I may get. You know, staying healthy staying alive."

Brian chuckles, and I smile. "Brie, you should sleep. I'll wake you when we find somewhere to stop. Or when you have to walk again."

"Alright." I close my eyes. No need to argue. I'm tired, injured, and I don't really feel like arguing over something that I have no reason to argue about.

~~~

"You're much less menacing when you're sleeping," Brian remarks as he sets me down on the couch in the abandoned basement.

I keep my eyes closed, humming softly. "That's because when I'm not awake, I'm just a normal sixteen year old girl."

Alex snorts, laying down his sleeping bag down on the right side of the couch while Brian lays his down on the left. "You've never been a normal girl. You just have a facade when you sleep that suggests the unthinkable."

I laugh softly. "Sure." I grunt, shifting slightly. "Listen, I still have a piece of shrapnel in my leg. If you'd be so kind as to pull it out, that'd be lovely."

Brian grunts. "I've got it."

As he pulls out the shrapnel from my leg, I think about how it happened in the first place.

We were in an old mall, looking for some more supplies. I was looking at black protective jackets (how amusing that I found jackets, but failed to find something to protect my leg) when Alex yelled for help. Brian and I ran towards him. He was in the food court, looking at a very, very large bomb with sixty seconds on it.

Brian and I had cursed in unison. Brian grabbed Alex's arm, pulling him along as we ran through the second story, trying to find the quickest way down. I glanced back at the bomb as we reach the glass half-wall keeping us from falling off of the second story. I looked at the escalator, non-functioning. No way in hell we could make that in time. I turned, run back towards the bomb, turned again, and charged straight for the glass, mentally praying that I land legs first.

I did, and the guys followed me as I ran for the exit, shoving the doors open to make it outside just as the bomb exploded. We throw ourselves to the ground. I rolled, a piercing pain registering in my leg for a brief moment before I shut it out. We got up and made it to a safe distance.

Brian looked at me, frowning. "Brie, you're hurt."

And here we are.

I mutter a curse as he removes the shrapnel from my leg.