After Grace

22. Fury

The bonfire roared behind us, nothing else made a sound. Hundreds of men women, and children watched wordless as Gunner and I began to circle each other. His thick muscles flexed as he tightened the grip on his knife. His shoulders rose. He was getting ready to attack. My own knife felt uneasy in my hand as the sweat from my palms glazed the handle.

Gunner lunged forward. An explosion of cheers broke from the crowd as he barreled toward me, a wild roar escaping his throat. I waited until his momentum was too great to stop and darted left-- he flew past me swinging wildly as I ducked. The blade cut into my jacket, scraping a bit of flesh as it sliced. I felt the sting of it but the pain registered only as something to be dealt with later.

He swung close with his fist-- I pulled my shoulders back, narrowly avoiding his oversized knuckles. I slashed every which way in an effort to keep him back. It didn't work. He came at me again and again until I finally ducked beneath his swinging arm and pushed my body against his, knocking him back a few steps. I felt the fire's heat at my back and slowly inched toward it.

He came at me again. I watched his hand arch over his head with the knife, as he brought it down I raised my arms in an X to block his blow. We collapsed to the ground together, the flames licking close to my face. The others continued to scream and shout all around us. All I could see was the long silver blade as he tried with all his might to bring it down. He had gravity and strength on his side. From here I could do nothing. Not move, not punch or kick-- I opened my mouth and bit down on his wrist. He screamed-- I rolled away, jumping up as soon as I had the chance. Gunner was still crawling, holding his bleeding wrist.

The drink they had given me was still having an effect. In front of me I saw gunner on the ground but I could also saw him in the woods the night he had taken Camden, the boy in his arms, scared, crying, helpless. Rage like I had never known took me in that moment and I ran to him. I drove my knife into his shoulder and let it go. He fell back to the ground with another agonizing scream.

I grabbed him by the back of the jacket and with every ounce of strength I had left, I pushed his face into the fire. My own animalistic yell filled the air. Flames licked around him like yellow ribbons.

His screams now turned to howls. I let go, he rolled away, his face black and smoking, flesh pealing off. I turned away from him to find Mother smiling at me from the sidelines. She was pleased. She began walking toward me.

"Grace!" Annie yelled. Gunner was on his knees in front of me. I tried to jump out of the way but he slashed his blade quick across my abdomen and fell at my feet, dead. I still didn't feel pain. I didn't feel anything.

Blood flowed from the long gash on my stomach, I dropped to my knees. Annie ran to me, throwing her arms over my scraped shoulders. Quickly, she put both hands over the wound and held them there. "Help!" she yelled. Mother moved to us, Marcus sticking close by her side. She put her arms under me and tried to lift but I pushed her away and grabbed the knife still in Gunner's hand. I reached a hand out, my stomach burning, and grabbed Marcus-- putting the edge of the blade to his throat.

"Grace," Mother said, eyes wide. "What're you doing?"

"Annie get behind me," I said, she did. "I'm not leaving her alone here. I can't. Back up," I ordered. She didn't. I pushed the knife harder beneath his chin, the boy cried out.

"Don't hurt him!" Mother begged.

"Annie, help me stand." Annie did as she was asked. I leaned on her as I walked with the boy. She put her hand back on my wound and kept pressure. I knew I had little time, but if I died here, Annie would be just another pretty girl in a world of bad men. "I'll let him go when I know we're not being followed. Take to the road in two hours and you'll find him. Head east. Give me the keys to the closest car," I said. My arms were getting heavier, my head lighter.

Mother looked around, everyone who was armed had their guns pointed at me and Marcus. "Put the guns down," she ordered. "Giver her the keys."

A man came from the crowd and gave them to Annie. He pointed to a minivan on the road at the head of the parked convoy.

"You're giving up the only family you ever had," Mother said. I looked at Annie who still held my bloody stomach.

"She's my family," I told her. We crossed to the van. "Two hours," I said again as Annie entered the vehicle behind me. I got inside with Marcus and started the engine. Driving had been nothing more than a fantasy until now. I threw the gear in reverse and did my best to turn around. I had watched Harry drive more than a few times, paying careful attention, always hoping one day I would get the chance, and now here it was.

We tore out onto the road, Annie still kept her hands on my stomach but I could feel the blood dripping through. I struggled to keep the car straight, the faster we went the less control I had, but I knew we couldn't slow down. As we found the highway and sped into the night I checked the mirror, no one was following. I drove faster still.

"Annie," I said as the road ahead began to blur. "I'm not gonna make it. You have to drive."

"Me? I can't!" she yelled.

"I can," Marcus said. "Pull over." But before I could, my hands fell from the wheel, and my eyes went dark. I only heard Annie screaming as the car drifted to the shoulder and rolled on its side with a thunderous crash.