Chapter 17
Nick
The hammer of his heart was almost as loud as the drum of his boots. Each step forward took him another step closer, but he had no notion of the path they took. No understanding of their speed, their intentions, their destination. They were an enigma, a shadow that held the last remnant of light in a world of blackness.
To find them was akin to an impossibility. Rescuing Kira, reuniting with Euan? An unfeasible task. He was more likely to find luck waiting out the end of the humanity, in the hope that the murkiness that tarnished almost every man’s soul would evaporate when age and malnutrition took them.
Despite the hopelessness, Nick jogged on. When the clouds finally released their burden and drenched the land with water, he cursed but didn’t slow. He was banking on the car failing under the modifications that had been made in this weather.
He was depending on Kira’s fortitude. Her tenacity. Her will to see herself free, and not simply wait for the knight to save her, even if she knew that those knights would attempt to rescue her with everything that they had available to them.
But Nick would not be caught up in the modern thoughts of feminism. The facts were brutal. Despite her courage, she was smaller. Despite her brilliance, she was weaker. Despite her agility, she was outnumbered.
Nick knew the simple mathematics. He himself had battled that equation and failed.
It didn’t matter how clever, brave or strong a person could be. When those odds were stacked against them, they were fucked.
The wind picked up and the trees by the road swayed. Water sluiced down their branches, their bark turned black. The wildlife was absent. No birds were visible, no animal scurried in the undergrowth that lined the crumbling tarmac. All beasts had found their nests and burrows to wait out the deluge.
The puddles under his feet grew. The water filtered through the cracks in the tar where the tree roots had forced their way through one of the last vestiges of mankind. They encroached and they consumed. Green grass sprouted through the gaps, a vibrancy in contrast to the black and grey that surrounded it.
The rain continued to fall. Nick huddled under his waterproof poncho and jogged on. The water dripped down the edge of his hood and into his eyes. He ignored it like he ignored the sting in his arm from the bullet wound, the blisters that formed on his feet from his wet socks, his cold fingers, and the terror that churned in his stomach.
A sudden urge had him quickening his pace. A tension in the air. Nick heard a noise that didn’t fit with the natural surroundings under the patter of the rain. He pushed his hood back and jogged a little faster.
There it was again.
A scream.
Kira.
Nick ran. His legs sped without conscious thought. He threw off the poncho and discarded his backpack. They were inconsequential in relation to Kira’s life. He pulled his knife from his belt. He sped along the road as best he could. He avoided the fallen branches, he jumped over the cracks. He skidded through the mud.
Another scream alighted with the wind. This time he heard his name. He heard Euan’s name. He heard her panic, her fear, her fright. It was a declaration to him, a blast of hope even if it was laced with dread. She lived. She was whole. He could save her.
The surge to answer her call almost consumed him. To yell her name back at her. To tell her that he was close. That he would find her. That she just had to stay alive, the rest they would fix, together.
Then there were gunshots.
At first, two blinding slaps to his optimism.
Nick’s body ricocheted as though he was the one that had been hit. He stumbled, tripped, righted himself before he hit the tarmac. His hands slipped on the hilt of his knife. He dropped the weapon. When it hit a puddle, he imagined that the water that splashed out morphed into blood. Kira’s blood.
There was silence. Nick raced on.
Then four more claps of terrible thunder.
His heart thundered. It reverberated faster than the effort needed to keep him moving. His terror was so significant that he tasted it. Bile, ash and salt. A combination that made him gag. He swiped his knife from the mud even as he ran. His body moved with a speed that was startling. If she’d been shot, he would never get to her in time before she bled out.
But that was not the only risk she faced. In the silence, they could be hurting her. She could be gagged, pain may have stolen her voice. There were no more screams. No more cries of his name, of Euan’s. There were no pleas for mercy, no desperate wails, shrieks of pain or howls of torment.
The sound of the pouring rain was all around him. It thundered in his ears. It stole the edge from his senses. He couldn’t hear her. He couldn’t hear anything!
Then the rumble of the truck. He was close. So fucking close. He sped on. Knees pushed high with every lunge, feet stretched out long. His breath surged, his mouth was parched despite the rain. His hand was slippery on the weapon. He ran, and he ran, and he ran.
He rounded the corner and he saw it. Two trucks. The one that had stolen his Kira. Steam billowed from under its bonnet. The other new and in far better condition.
It didn’t shudder and shake as it took off. Its engine roared, even over the hammering of the rain, it pulled out smooth, and moved before Nick could react.
It wouldn’t have mattered. He was too far. He would never reach it.
Nick slowed. He tasted salt and water. He shuddered from the loss and from the cold. He had stopped. The white line in the road ran between his stationary feet. There was an infinity between him and Kira. He couldn’t
