The Peregrines

Chapter 12

{ Edited - 2nd Sep, 2021 }
{ Edited - 7th May, 2024 }

"For a walk," he said. "A nice, orderly walk."

It was evident from his speech that he hailed from a different place, attempting to imitate a British accent with a clipped and flattened way of speaking. However, his imitation was far from convincing. While Wights were known for their exceptional disguises, this particular individual seemed to lack the necessary skills.

"You will not fall out of line," he said, staring down each of us in turn. "You will not run. I have fifteen rounds in my clip—enough to put two holes in each of you. And don't think I don't see your jacket, invisible boy. Make me chase you and I'll slice off your invisible thumbs for souvenirs."

"Yes, sir," said Millard.

"No talking!" the soldier boomed. "Now march!"

As we made our way past the ticket booth, we noticed that the clerk had disappeared. Exiting the platform and leaving the depot behind, we stepped onto the bustling streets. While the people of Coal had barely acknowledged our presence earlier, their curious gazes followed us like owls as we marched in a straight line, under the watchful eyes of our captors.

The soldier made sure we stayed in a close-knit group, reminding us sternly whenever someone wandered off. I was positioned at the back, with him right behind me, and the sound of his ammunition belt clinking echoed as we marched. Our path led us back in the direction we had originally come from, straight out of town.

I came up with twelve different escape strategies. We would split up. Wait, he might shoot a few of us. Perhaps someone could fake fainting on the road, causing the person behind to stumble, but he was too smart to fall for that. One of us would need to disarm him up close.

Me.

Of all the people, I was the closest.

As I pondered my options, a thought crossed my mind. Perhaps if I slowed down my pace, allowing him to catch up, and then made a sudden dash towards him... but deep down, I knew I was only fooling myself. I lacked the bravery of an action hero.

Fear gripped me so tightly that it became difficult to breathe, and the sight of fog forming in the distance only added to my unease. Despite my efforts, he remained a mere ten yards behind me, his gun pointed directly at my back.

If I dared to turn around, he would not hesitate to pull the trigger, leaving me to bleed out on the deserted road. Such recklessness was far from heroic in my eyes.

As we were walking, a jeep suddenly raced up from behind and aligned itself with us, gradually slowing down to match our speed. Two additional soldiers were seated inside, both sporting mirrored sunglasses. Despite their concealed eyes, I could sense their intentions.

The soldier in the passenger seat acknowledged the one who had apprehended us with a nod and a small salute, expressing his approval. Then, he shifted his gaze towards us and maintained an unwavering stare. From that instant onward, he never diverted his attention from us, nor did he loosen his grip on his rifle.

We now had escorts, and the single rifle-wielding wight had multiplied into three. My chances of escape were completely shattered. We continued to walk, the sound of our shoes crunching on the gravel road mixing with the rumble of the jeep's engine beside us, sounding like a cheap lawnmower.

The town faded into the distance as we passed by farms on either side of the tree-lined road, their fields empty and barren. The soldiers remained silent, giving off a robotic vibe as if their minds had been replaced with wires.

The wights were said to be intelligent, but these individuals appeared more like mindless followers to me. Suddenly, I heard a buzzing sound near my ear and glanced up to find a bee hovering around my head before flying off. I chuckled to myself. What mischief was Hugh planning into now?