They walk through the snow, boots crunching on the ice. It coats her lungs as she breathes it in. It pricks at her face and stings her eyes, digging crystalline claws into her spine. Alicia's already stopped shivering, her body beginning to give in to the pressing frost. Her heart is a dull thud in her ears, sluggish as it struggles to keep the blood from freezing in her veins.
She doesn't know where they're going. She doesn't even know if she wants to get there. She was content in the cabin. Hunting, listening to no voices but the breeze within the leaves. No one was trying to force a crown upon her head. No one was trying to force a gun in her hand.
And she had Oliver by her side.
"We shouldn't be that far now," Galya speaks, her voice shaky as her body quivers with the cold.
"Thank the Light," Alicia mutters, her hands wrapping around the strap of her rifle, trying to stop their trembling. Alicia looks ahead of her, gazing at where the moon tries to touch the snow through the dense trees, unease settling within her stomach.
As she stares, willing the shadows to stop playing their tricks, the forest becomes eerily silent, the insects that have sung their journey up to this point smother their voices. The guttural snarl of a creature shouldn't ease her nerves but it does. There are worse things than shambling undead that wander these woods. The Grey Blood stumbles through the snow, bones protruding through its ashen skin.
Alicia pulls the knife from her belt and moves towards the creature. She looks into the white of its eyes, lifeless and unseeing. Then she plunges her blade into its skull, the bone too fragile to offer much resistance. She attempts to drag the knife from its head, but the serrated edge is stuck within the bone. The Grey collapses to the snow and Alicia goes with it, still trying to yank her blade out.
Blinking, Alicia finds that it's no longer a Grey Blood she kneels over, but a woman. Her lips are full, her eyes are dark, her skin is golden brown and splattered with crimson. She chokes, blood bubbling from her lips and splattering against Alicia's cheek who rears back with a cry.
"You... killed me, Alicia," Kathryn wheezes, her hand fluttering to the gaping wound in her throat.
Alicia yanks her blade out and then it's a Grey Blood beneath her again. Scrambling upright, she wipes her cheek with the back of her hand, but finds no wetness.
"Are you alright?" Galya asks, the girl glancing around them with a wary look in her gaze.
"Keep moving," Alicia orders, cleaning her blade before they continue through the forest. She trains her gaze back on the dark and hones her focus like she's sharpening a blade, pushing thoughts of Kathryn aside. She doesn't get the luxury of letting down her guard in the Dead Lands, and after four days of travel, her muscles are beginning to protest the strain.
Reprieve is only a temporary thing.
The shot cracks the silence, the bullet splinters the bark of the tree right beside Alicia's head. A curse leaves her lips and she dives into the cover of the trees, tumbling into the snow as more shots whiz past her. Alicia sits up, her back pressed to the trunk of a tree, wincing every time a bullet sinks into the wood around her.
Galya doesn't follow.
Gritting her teeth, Alicia squints as she tries to peer around the tree. The gunshots have ceased but Alicia knows they're waiting for the slightest hint of movement to start again. At the rate they're firing, they clearly have no concern about wasting bullets.
Then her eyes find Galya, a man at her back with a blade brandished against her throat.
Alicia swings her rifle into her hands as she gets to her feet. She aims it at the head of the man, her shoulder against the tree to steady herself.
YOU ARE READING
The Grey Blood #2
Fantasy❝ We must be prepared to sacrifice the few to save the many that will come after us. ❞ [book 2] The Grey Bloods may have dwindled in number, but the creatures still gnaw at Muovea, threatening the small measure of peace that was won when the Grand D...
