Hiding in the Shadows

I froze seeing the last soldier standing there, a weapon nicknamed a zipper poised in his hand and pointed straight at Rosie’s head. There was no way a knife or arrow could even begin to compare with a zipper, no matter how accurate. Zippers were sick contraptions; they would rip apart your molecules starting from the inside, thus the name. There was a slight clink as we set down our weapons. “Let her go, I’ll go with you instead, just don’t hurt her.” Tiar was bargaining, trying to take Rosie’s place. The soldier stood there a moment. He didn’t care about the rest of the men, there was no avenging force in his eyes only tiredness. I could feel how done he was with the situation, fully spent and uncaring about the conclusion as long as he got what he came for. If he had wanted he could have taken all three of us with backup but it was not hard to see that both my brother and I were fighters. We would have been such a handful to take especially when my sister and I hadn’t been initially sent for. Tiar would have been sent to the ranks, Rosie to the chamber and me to the Birthhouse for causing so much trouble. The soldier dropped Rosie’s arm causing her to fall to the ground and she curled in a small ball emitting soft whimpers. He motioned for Tiar to go over to the door; slowly he obeyed but at the doorway he turned and locked his eyes on mine. “Skylar, you can’t let anything happen to Rosie. Protect her, you understand.” His voice was bold, undisputable. “I will,” I spoke, barely louder than a whisper in the silence of our violated house. Satisfied he walked out, the soldier following close behind. He would be shipped off in the morning, sent off to the lines and placed in the ranks, another pawn. He was nothing more than a statistic to them. Screw them, I thought, screw them all. I took my sister’s hand and brought her into the untouched living room. The normality of the splintering wood rocking chair and beige curtains was jarring in comparison to the adrenaline flowing in our veins. I sat her down and walked to where the dead captain lay, eyes open, fingers covered in blood and clenched around the wound. Did I do that? I pulled the arrow from his throat and took his gun. It was a typhoon 3.4 but we called them flyers. They stopped all nerve signals like an EMP for your brain; the victim was left unable to move and would die within a few minutes from a lack of oxygen and blood flow. I surveyed the rest of the house, Rosie standing completely silent by my side, for supplies. I packed up everything useful; a few clothes, a jar of dried fruit, my hunting bag, grabbed my sister’s hand again and left. It pained me to think about dust settling in layers around a now empty house. My aunt had kept it so proper; taking pride in a polished home nobody was allowed to visit. No one would know about the lives that had been lived here. But perhaps it was best everyone forgot about us, it is much easier to hide if people aren’t looking for you. I didn’t know where I was supposed to go but I knew we had to get away. I didn’t trust that soldier, he would probably send out a small squad the minute he returned to the station. I did the only thing I could do, run.