Asher Banning still mourns his mother after three years. When his friend, Caden, decides to get their group of friends together for Christmas as a way to help Asher not feel lonely for the holidays, things quickly turn upside down.
MATURE: for expl...
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"Wha—" he began to say before my hands tightened over his throat. His face turned red as a vein poked out of his temple. The strength in my biceps forced him to stay down, his life clenched in-between my thumb and index finger. Underneath his skin, his pulse thumped quicker as he tried to get out from under me. The sensation was odd, and I couldn't quite explain it.
He deserved this and he needed to be taken down. Dealt with. This had to have been the only way. He couldn't get away; he couldn't be brought to justice; this was how the problem would be solved.
Not really, I realized. Because the group is still gone. They can't be saved.
I had my knees on his stomach, pinning him down with as much force as I could. He squirmed under me, his arms flailing all around, but the more I squeezed his neck tighter between my hands, the slower his pulse became.
A part of me wanted nothing more than to watch his body go limp. But I knew that wasn't right. Maybe it was the feeling of being immoral, inhumane or the fact that I was no better than he was.
Once he stopped fighting me, once his eyelids closed, I let go of his throat. He wasn't dead, of course. Nick still had a heartbeat, just knocked unconscious. I quickly checked his pockets to see if he had anything in them. I wasn't expecting anything, considering he would've left the mountain alone, but when my hand touched a syringe in his back pocket, I knew I struck gold.
A few moments later, his eyelids fluttered open. But they closed just as quickly once I poked his arm with the needle, pushing down the plunger. I had no idea what liquid went inside his veins, but I knew it couldn't be too lethal as he continued breathing.
He must've had the idea to use the sleeping drug on me; I didn't have any other explanation as to why he had it in his pocket. Randomly, might I add.
"Whatever," I said, sighing. Now, what do I do?
I had a small idea, but it was only just a hunch. There was no telling if my idea would work, but it was all that I had. With a deep breath, I extended my good leg out, using the muscle to lift my body as I reached for the handle. I screamed and groaned, the pain making its way through my leg. Doing this with a busted-up ankle was one of the craziest ideas I could've had. While the agony was unbearable, there was a part of me that wondered if I could ever get back to the house.
You just have to, I told myself. Just do it.
With my good leg, I pushed myself forward, hopping onto the seat. I swung my leg over the other side. While holding onto the handles, I put the quad into the correct gear and slowly moved forward, toward the shack it used to belong in.
The shack's doors banged against the wooden walls from the wind. The gap was wide enough for the vehicle to slip into, so I decided that instead of getting off, I could see if anything was within reach.
