Final Debt Page 11

  He groaned, gathering me close and kissing the top of my head. “I don’t deserve you. Not after what Daniel—”

  I kissed him. “Shut up. I won’t let you think that way.”

  I would never verbally tell him I let Daniel enter me—just a little—to ensure my trap was sprung before killing him. He didn’t need to carry such knowledge. It was a price I willingly paid. Jethro didn’t need to know how repulsive those few inches had been, or how much I loathed myself for letting it happen. I couldn’t stop him from sensing what I refused to say. But they were my thoughts and I wanted them to remain unspoken.

  His lips grazed over mine. “You’re right. Let’s get out of this hell hole.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “Stay quiet and follow me.” He twisted to leave, a painful hiss escaping his lips.

  I yanked him to a stop, inspecting his side. “Are you okay? You need a doctor.” Pressing the back of my hand on his forehead, I whispered, “You’re burning up, Kite. You need medicine.”

  He scowled. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Just focus on getting out of here. Then we can both heal and relax once we’ve won.”

  I didn’t ask how we would do that. But I did ask, “Are we going to the driver a kilometre away?”

  “No. You’re right. It’s too dangerous.” His eyebrows furrowed, thinking of a new plan. “The Jeeps that the workers take to the mine aren’t far away. I know where the keys are stored. If we stay hidden, we can get there in time to leave when the employees do.”

  “What about Cut?”

  “What about him?”

  “Will he have come looking for me by now?”

  A harsh look filled his gaze. “Cut will leave you to Daniel. Call it training. Like a lion leaves its cub to maul its dinner before stepping in and killing it. He wants Daniel to use you. He won’t interfere with that.”

  I wasn’t so sure. The way Cut had looked at me spoke of rage that his youngest son got me first. He’d hated Daniel had won the coin toss.

  Stepping away from the smelly latrines and into fresh, morning air, I squeezed Jethro’s hand. “I trust you.”

  His golden eyes glowed with their own daybreak. “I’ll make sure to finally deserve your trust, Nila.”

  Tugging me forward, he smiled. “Now, let’s go home.”

  I HID MY fear as I held Nila’s hand and guided her through the camp.

  She didn’t need to know I had no fucking clue how to keep my promise. She didn’t need to hear my worries or concerns about this new plan. What she did need was for me to be strong and get her out of this mess.

  And I would do it.

  Gritting my teeth, I pulled her faster. I’d told her Cut would wait until Daniel had had his fill, but that was wrong. Cut had a fascination of claiming everyone for himself. His tolerance for time would’ve ended by now.

  I had no doubt he would be on his way, if not already pissed at waiting so long.

  Bird-song and awakening animals heralded in the new day. The calls and chirps sent chills down my back. Daniel had deserved to be devoured. Nature had taken care of it. But it didn't mean it was easy to watch.

  Flashbacks of him growing up, of him chasing Kes and me, of the rare times we got along all unspooled in my head as pieces of him were sliced and disappeared down lionesses’ throats.

  Guilt for not trying to understand or help him festered and I wished for a moment that I’d been a better brother to all my siblings.

  But I couldn’t change the past. I barely had power over my future.

  I had to pay attention to the present so I could save the woman I’d chosen above my family.

  “Stay low.” I jerked Nila behind a shipping container, sticking to the darkness and shadows. The workers and guards who’d been sprawled unconscious after a night of debauchery had disappeared. The dusty footprints signalling the camp might still be quiet, but people were awake, in their homes, cooking breakfast, readying for work in a few short minutes.

  We need to move faster.

  Nila trotted beside me, her breathing shallow. She mimicked me without noticing, ducking when I ducked, scurrying when I scurried.

  She wasn’t stupid. She knew what was at stake. And for some goddamn reason, she trusted me to lead her to safety.

  I almost got her killed by the lions.

  For the tenth time, I berated myself for taking her onto the plain with a body oozing blood. I knew the predators would come. That was my plan—for them to cart Daniel off and turn his body into animal shit—but I hadn’t planned on them coming so soon.

  “Stay hidden.” My voice barely registered as I guided Nila down a small alley, bypassing the open paths and doing my best to remain unseen.

  However, I knew it wouldn’t be enough.

  Eventually, we would be spotted…it was just a matter of time.

  We need to be closer to the Jeeps before that happens.

  Nila tugged on my hand, pointing to the side where the fire had burned itself out and the strewn men and women had disappeared.

  “I know.” I narrowed my eyes. “Stay quiet.”

  She nodded.

  My side panged with agony as I twisted around to continue our perilous journey. My fever gradually made me weaker, draining my system of reserves. Nila was right about needing a doctor. We both did.

  I couldn’t stomach looking at her bruises without wanting to repay like for like. My short-term goals included getting her on a plane where I could assess how badly hurt she was and how much she’d hidden from me. My next plan was to secret her away where she couldn’t be touched while I went back to Hawksridge and finished what I should’ve finished years ago.

  I refused to leave Jasmine in Bonnie’s clutches any longer. Especially now Bonnie knew the depth of Jasmine’s deception. And I needed to see Kestrel. To touch him and encourage him to wake from his coma and come back to life.

  The Hawk children were down from four to three.

  I didn’t want any more of us to die.

  Nila stumbled, hissing through her teeth. I pulled her upright, matching her hiss with one of my own. I chuckled morbidly. We were both running on fumes.

  Our footsteps made no noise as we moved forward. For all intents, the camp wasn’t large—housing upward of thirty to forty people. But this morning, it seemed as if we crossed the Serengeti with hyenas on our heels.

  We ducked and froze, scampering across an open distance to the cover of another container.

  We’re close.

  Squeezing Nila’s fingers, I motioned with my chin that we were almost there. The parking lot was just around the corner.

  Pointing at the ground for her to stay put, to stay safe, I untangled my fingers from hers and prowled forward to the edge of the fence line. I didn’t look back, but I sensed her annoyance with me leaving her.

  It’s only for a moment.

  No one.

  Nothing.

  Only vacant property between me and the first Jeep.

  Could it be that easy? Had fate finally decided to let us win?

  My eyes danced from guard box to guard box. Last night’s ceremony was a special occasion where the rules on security were loosened. However, there should be at least one guard.

  No one.

  It wasn’t uncommon, but it didn’t ease me. It only made my condition fan out, seeking any emotional sway to signal humans were there just unnoticed.

  My attention fell on the single cabinet bolted to the ground in the middle of the parking lot. The lock box housed the keys to the twenty or so Jeeps waiting to take the freshly slept workers to replace the night shift.

  The cabinet didn’t require a key but a pin code.

  And I knew the pin code.

  My mother’s birthday.

  Waving at Nila to follow, I dashed across the dirt and quickly fumbled with the tumbler.

  Please, don’t let it be changed.

  That would just be my fucking luck.

  It took three long seconds before
the padlock sprang open.

  Thank God.

  My hands shook as I grabbed the set labelled with the closest Jeep’s license plate.

  So close.

  Please, let us get out of here.

  My thoughts became prayers, paving the way to hopeful freedom.

  Waving for Nila to dash from her hiding spot, I shoved her toward the car. “Go.”

  She didn’t hesitate.

  Together, we bolted around the vehicle and I unlocked the doors. Throwing myself into the driver’s side, I swallowed the gasp of pain from my side. Nila leapt in the passenger side and I shoved the key into the ignition.

  Nothing happened.

  I stomped on the gas, twisting the key.

  Again, nothing.

  “What the fuck?” My eyes flew between the dead dashboard to the rapidly cresting sunshine.

  We’re running out of time.

  I tried again, shoving the pedal to the floor.

  Start. Please, fucking start.

  The engine suddenly sputtered into life, coughing.

  Then the worst sound imaginable.

  It backfired.

  The loud crack ricocheted through the quiet morning, ripping through silence, announcing to the world where we were.

  “Fuck!” I pounded the dash with my fist. My heart stopped beating.

  Nila huddled in her seat, panic glistening in her eyes. “What do we do?”

  I wanted to tell her this wasn’t the end. That we still had a chance. But I didn’t have the breath.

  I tore my gaze to the entrance gates.

  Shit.

  A guard appeared, bleary eyed and not doing his duty. He jogged to his post, raising his weapon, searching for the threat.

  I didn’t wait for a bullet or an invitation to leave.

  This was the only chance we had.

  “Hold on!” Wrenching the gear stick, I forced the old Jeep into gear and shot forward.

  Nila squealed as we fishtailed and pebbles pinged below us. The tyres chewed up dirt, snarling faster and faster.

  The guard aimed.

  “Go!” Nila screamed, gripping the dirty fabric of her chair. “Go. Go. Go!”

  I forced the car faster. It lurched forward, squealing in a cloud of dust.

  The guard dropped his arm, ducking out of the way as we careened over the half-way point, swerving around parked cars.

  Closer.

  Closer.

  Come on. Come on.

  He fisted a walkie talkie on his vest, his face bouncing between shock and surprise.

  Yanking the steering wheel, we hurtled straight for him. I wouldn’t let him gather forces. Not now. Not when we were so close.

  The gate and final freedom rose before us, promising happiness the moment we barrelled through it.

  “We’ll make it. We’ll make it,” Nila chanted, holding the dash with white fingers.

  I stomped harder on the gas, preparing to ram the entry. “We will. Almost there.”

  My heart chugged and hope unfurled with joyous frissions at the thought of finally, finally, saving Nila and living up to my promises.

  Only…

  Fate wasn’t on our side, after all.

  The gates swung wide and a barrier of men appeared from either side, marching in perfect combat, weapons drawn and armed.

  “No!” Nila yelled, her voice mixing with the screaming engine.

  What the hell—?

  And then a man in a white shirt, goatee, and glistening colourless hair stepped pride of place in the line-up. He stood with his legs spread in the middle of his henchmen and pointed a finger right into my soul.

  Motherfucker.

  I was right. Cut hadn’t waited.

  He probably gave up waiting the same time we left with Daniel.

  While we gave the lions breakfast, Cut had amassed a counter-attack.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

  “No!” Nila cried as I stood harder on the gas. “Don’t stop. Please, Kite. Do. Not. Stop. I don’t care. I don’t care if they shoot. Just…don’t stop!”

  Feral ferocity exploded in my veins. “I won’t.”

  They were in my way. I had a car. They didn’t.

  “Put your belt on. Now!” I downshifted, granting more power and more screams to the angry engine. Our trajectory turned from hurtling to flying.

  I would kill every last guard barricading my way. And I would do it gladly.

  Nila’s eyes bugged, but she did as she was told. Trembling hands grabbed her seat belt, securing herself tightly. I did the same, juggling between belting myself in and steering the old Jeep.

  I gritted my teeth against the influx of emotion pouring from the men before me. Their bodies might form a wall, but their emotions did, too. Fear, obligation, unwillingness to get hurt regardless of what threats Cut had delivered.

  My heart skipped a beat as the youngest of the men—just a boy—stepped from the line and raised his gun.

  He aimed.

  I drove faster.

  He fired.

  The explosion hurt my ears as the kid recoiled, his arm soaring upward from the kickback. Nila screamed as the bullet pinged off the bonnet.

  “Get down!” Grabbing her neck, I forced her to bend over her knees.

  “What about you?!” She looked sideways, frantic terror in her eyes.

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  Worry about them.

  I swerved, placing my side of the car more prominent than hers. If anyone was going to get shot, it was me. I’d already survived one bullet. I could do it again.

  “Jethro!” Nila disobeyed my orders and looked up. “Watch out!”

  We stared down the barrels of guns. Machine guns. Shot-guns. All types of guns. Armed and cocked and ready to—

  They fired.

  We didn’t stand a chance.

  The wheels blew, the metal carcass became pockmarks and mangled debris.

  The car kept flying, but not on the ground. The front end crunched as the axis buckled, sending us tumbling through the sky.

  Slow motion.

  Loud noises.

  Utter carnage.

  The last thing I remembered was skidding, smashing into a boulder, and flipping end over end over end.

  Then…

  Nothing.

  I LIVED IT all.

  Jethro fighting with the wheel.

  The rain of gunfire.

  The buck and kick of the Jeep as its nose ploughed into earth and sprang upward into the air. I witnessed Jethro’s head snap sideways, his temple crunch against the windshield, and the bone-shattering landing when air turned to ground and the Jeep morphed from car to flattened sandwich.

  Vertigo had affected me all my life. But this…the flipping, ricocheting, swerving nightmare was ten times worse. The hurl, the roll, the loop de loop forced our bodies to forsake our bones and turn into cartwheels of flesh.

  Down was up. Up was down. And fate had well and truly abandoned us as we came to a teeth-chattering stop upside down.

  I hurt.

  I throbbed.

  The engine wouldn’t stop whining. The shattered glass rained like fractured crystals. Blood stung my eyes, but I refused to tear my vision from Jethro.

  Jethro…

  Tears clogged every artery. Panic lodged in every vein.

  We’d been so close…

  He hung unnaturally still. Blood dripped from his temple, splashing against the roof of the car with morbid artwork. His side bled a rich scarlet while the gash on his forehead oozed almost black-red. His arms dangled, wrists bent and lifeless on the roof.

  No…no. Please, no…

  He couldn’t be dead.

  He couldn’t.

  Life wouldn’t be that cruel.

  It wouldn’t bait hope before us and then yank it away as we reached for it.

  It can’t be that cruel!

  Jethro…

  I wanted to reach out and touch him. I wanted to speak and assure him. I wanted to pu
ll him free and drag him far, far away.

  But my brain had no power to send the message to bruised limbs.

  So I hung there—a broken marionette held up by strings.

  My lungs suddenly demanded breath. I gasped and spluttered. My seatbelt hugged me too tight, cutting my ribcage, keeping me pinned upside down. My hair hung around me, droplets of my blood tracing their way over my forehead, like incorrectly flowing red tears joining Jethro’s on the roof below.

  “Ki—Kite…” I groaned as the word ripped me in two. I begged my arm to move to him, to see if he was alive.

  But I couldn’t move.

  Jethro didn’t move.

  Nothing moved apart from the spinning tyres and settling dust, cocooning us in a cloud of yellow ash.

  Blinking away blood, I sucked in another breath, willing the oxygen to knit me back together and revive me.

  Come on.

  We weren’t safe. I couldn’t remember why. But we weren’t safe.

  Lions?

  Hyenas?

  Footsteps crunched closer. The click and snap of weapons being disarmed echoed in my skull. Instructions given in a language I couldn’t understand.

  I suddenly remembered.

  Hawks.

  Someone tried to open my door, but it wouldn’t budge. I didn’t look at them. Keeping my eyes trained on Jethro, I wordlessly told him everything he deserved to hear.

  I love you.

  I trust you.

  Thank you for coming for me.

  I’ll follow you.

  I’ll chase you.

  This is not the end.

  Horror that he might’ve gone forever consumed me. I’d watched him die twice. Twice.

  I knew what it was like to survive without him. If he’d died, I wanted to go, too.

  Tears streamed from my eyes, joining the blood dripping from my forehead.

  More footsteps.

  More crunching and conversation.

  “Jethro…” I battled against the pain and misfiring synapses and managed to force my arm to move. Inch by inch, cripple by cripple, I reached for him.

  When my fingertip touched his elbow, I burst into ugly tears. “Please…wake up.”

  He didn’t twitch.

  I poked him.

  He didn’t flinch.

  I pinched him.

  He only hung there like a butchered corpse.

  The windshield suddenly shattered. I screamed as a rain of safety glass pebbled in a waterfall.