Whisper of an Arrow ✔︎

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Raindrops flew in from the hole in the roof, pooled on the lobby's floor, and then sneaked through the kitchen door's gap. Puddles were forming near the door. Luckily, Rachel was wrapped in blankets on the opposite side of the room as Layla stroked her hair.

"Ambulances will be here in ten minutes," Henry crouched next to Layla. Shallow breaths from Rachel were the only indication she was alive.

"Ten minutes?" Layla's voice broke as her fingers stilled above her friend's soft strands of hair. "Why..."

The words seemed so insignificant.

"We're on the outskirts of the precinct, surrounded by woods."

Layla nodded but didn't stop. Lip curled, she dropped her head down and sniffled. Her tangled curls fell like a curtain around her puffy eyes.

Henry bit his lip and looked around for help. Unsurprisingly, there was no one there to come to his rescue. "The paramedics will be here any time now."

"I know. I just..." Layla looked up at him with shiny eyes. "God, I don't..." A tear slipped out and she lunged toward him, wrapping him in a hug. He hugged her back with the same ferocity.

In his hold, Layla relaxed and leaned against him. Henry did the same and put his head on her shoulder. Realizations that safety was so close was like a saline drip in her veins, a cooling tingle throughout her body. She finally felt like she could breathe. With all the peace, she fought to keep her eyes open. But, she couldn't allow herself to be sedated by tiredness.

Layla tugged herself out of the embrace. "I'm going to go outside to make sure the 911 people know where we are."

Henry nodded.

"Want to come with?"

"I should stay with Rachel."

"Right," Layla had—as awful as it is to say—forgot about the girl laying on the cold tile. "I'll be back soon."

Henry took a seat and gazed at his death-like sister. "Okay."

As Layla traversed the tree branches in the lobby and the slick floor, guilt blossomed in her gut. In the embrace, she had felt happy...so, so happy. But her friend was right beside her, dying. How could she feel like that as her friend fought to cling to vitality? It was wrong, convoluted. No one deserved to be happy until Rachel was safe and sound.

Yellow street lights illuminated the flagstones around the pool. Otherwise, it was completely dark.

"Hello? My friend was the one who called 911!" Layla yelled into the murky expanse. "Hello?"

Running towards the light, she continued to repeat her mantra.

Unfortunately, she had reached the fence and the full incandescence of the street lights stayed just beyond her reach. Raindrops obscured her vision, and she took off her glasses to clean them.

Once she had slid them back on, the yellow light had coalesced into two eyes staring back at her. Connected to the eyes was an emaciated skeleton with scraps of clothing hanging off the twisted frame. A sack of arrows was slung over its shoulder, but Layla couldn't see a bow anywhere. Her blood turned cold, not with the cooling safety of before, but with the freezing certainty of death. As the creature began to raise its arms, the gales picked up and started whipping Layla's hair around.

Skidding on the slick stone, Layla dashed back to the poolhouse, tripping over her foot and tumbling inside the lobby. "Henry? Henry!"

As she was just about to burst through the kitchen door, the door opened. His eyes widened when he saw her. Layla's hands were shaking. Her wide, wild eyes darted everywhere before landing on Rachel.