.

Sorry for the delay! I wanted to post the remaining chapters all together, but it would take about two more weeks to do so. I was too excited, and couldn't wait to share with you.

I hope to have it wrapped up before New Years.

Thanks to Alby Mangroves for her support and efforts to pre-read this story for the last chapters. She is amazing, and any mistakes are my own since I add and take away after she's through.

Thanks for reading!

The floodgates cannot hold all my sorrow, all my rage.

- The Other Side, David Gray

. . . | . . .

C H A P T E R - T W E L V E:

Dead Man Walking

~. . . . -=|=- . . . .~

I blinked against the punishing early light. My eyes burned, raw with sleep as I allowed life to sink into the haze. The unique stink of burned rope and fat lingered. My sack sat upright in the center of the room. I'd packed it.

I'd fought with Jasper and Emmett.

Alice and I were leaving today.

She followed me in here last night. She saw me with Bella. Was she still mad?

She offered to bring me food when she finished helping Renee after dinner. I fell asleep, but there was no sign she had ever returned. No food. No glass of water. Nothing except the two-day-old water in the basin on the chest.

Nothing.

I ran a palm over my face and flinched, understanding why my eyes hurt so badly. Fearing the image I'd see in the mirror, I tied my boots first, gasping from the exertion, then stood in front of the square-framed mirror. Under my eyes, rings of black distorted my appearance to a creature who looked less alive, and cuts tore into my skin across my cheeks.

I sponged the wounds, then straightened the bed like I was never there before looking around to make sure I hadn't missed anything.

The room was just how it was the night it was given to me, and I hoped it would soon be just a memory.

I lifted my sack to my shoulders, carrying the water bowl from the room and to Alice's to see if she was there.

She wasn't.

Her belongings were still out. The sheets on the bed were pulled tight and straight, like she had done every morning. Slightly put-off by her not being packed and ready to go, I ventured downstairs to find her, expecting to see her hanging around the kitchen, but there was only Renee. She sat at the table with a basket of potatoes next to her, working hard to peel away the skins with her small knife. She once referred to them as winter food, declaring it was their most abundant crop during the colder months.

I hesitated on greeting her, remembering how she looked at me last night. She had changed into someone more fierce and protective instead of the calm, motherly woman I'd come to know. "Good morning." I cleared my throat.

She looked up. "Mornin'," she said before returning her attention to her work. "That's some face you have."

I set the bowl on the counter behind her. I would dump the grisly water before we left. The air felt charged this morning; whispers of electricity pricked my skin and set me on edge. An eerie calm touched every surface, and an unknown clinking tickled my ears.

"Yes, ma'am. Have you seen Alice this morning?"

The knife scraped against the potato several times before she answered, "She's gone with Bella to get water."

My muscles relaxed when I heard she'd seen her, but the tension became solid once more. "Did someone go with them?"

She shook her head, not bothering to look at me.

"Do you know when they will be back?"

"I reckon when they're through."

"I should go help them," I said, moving toward the front hall.

"You always runnin' off to save somebody?"

I stopped and turned. "What?"

"That's what Alice said. You're always runnin' off to save someone."

Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink.

The distant noise distracted me, briefly pulling my attention away from our conversation, but I stepped forward to stand in front of Renee. She didn't look up, didn't acknowledge my presence any more than she had to, I supposed. I sat my bag on the floor next to the wall so it wouldn't be in the way if someone walked through.

"Depends on who it is that needs saving."

She peered up at me, conjuring an all-knowing look. I guessed her suspicion about her daughter and me.

"About last night," I continued, "things got out of hand. I'm sorry for any trouble I caused your family. We'll be leaving as soon as Alice gets back."

Clink. Clink. Clink.

That noise once more. Where is it coming from?

"You're involved with her aren't you?"

"Alice? No." We weren't involved. "She's my friend."

She huffed. "As much as she chases after you, hoping you'll pay her some kinda attention, I know you'll have nothing to do with her. You've got your eye on something else, don't you?"

"I don't know what you mean." But I did.

She pushed away from the table, dumping the peeled potatoes in the porcelain basin to wash them, like she'd done on so many other occasions; only this time, it felt different. Perhaps it was the way she glanced at me before letting them fall from the dinged-up metal bowl. Her eyes cut to mine, searing the hope from my mind. It was a skeptical look, much like Jasper's at the cellar door after I had emerged with Bella.

He had known, then. Renee knew now. Had I been so obvious in my interactions with that girl? Yes, I wanted her, and at times I could think of nothing more than pulling her close to me. Her silent charm, the way she moved, the mystery which engulfed her every curve turned my interest into fascination. Along with it rose a desire more dangerous than any other in my years, and last night she broke me. My emotions clouded my head after our kiss ― my demise.

"Oh, please," she said, swishing her fingers through the water. "Don't play dumb with me. You know exactly what I mean." She brushed her hands off on her stained, white apron. "You don't think I know when someone has their eye on my child?"

"With all due respect, I don't think it's me you should be concerned about. How about the man, who's supposed to protect her, dragging her out to the barn to do God knows what? You don't even flinch when it's him."

Clink. Clink. Clink.

"Jasper has done so much for us. I don't have to explain myself to you. You don't know me or my reasons. You don't know anything about this family, or what we've gone through."

"I'd like to understand. I've been wanting to."

"But you don't need to!"

Renee Swan was a foolish woman, regardless of what she had done to help Alice and me. The indifference she showed toward her daughter was unreasonable, but I began to wonder if Alice was right about the girl I thought was innocent. What had Bella done to evoke such emotions? Or, was she the price paid for Jasper's and Emmett's protection, and perhaps Charlie and Renee were unable to stop what was done to her? It was a sickening thought and my gut turned, stopping me from dwelling on it any further.

She may have been a fool, but Renee was right. This place ― their family ― was none of my business.

Clink. Clink.

My brow furrowed at the persistent, interrupting noise. "What is that?"

Her gaze met mine briefly. "What's what?"

A moment later it came again. Clink. Clink. Clink.

"That."

She shook her head. Did she hear it, or had I completely lost my mind?

"Oh, that noise?"

"Yes," I said. "That noise. What is that?"

She pulled a basket from the counter and hung it on the crook of her arm, finally saying, "Probably Charlie fiddling around with something in the basement." She walked through the screen door without another word.

I lingered in the kitchen momentarily, not bothering to follow her out the door. I could tell she wasn't interested in speaking with me any further. This family proved to be more than odd, and I knew when my welcome was worn out. Alice's suggestion to leave was a good idea.

The sooner, the better.

I had to say good-bye to Bella before we left, and even though I promised Alice it would just be us, I wouldn't leave her if she had changed her mind about going with us.

Maybe Alice would understand.

I closed the front door with care then cut across the front yard, each step crunching on the freshly fallen leaves. The cool, clean air filled my lungs with soft hints of autumn as a pleasant breeze stirred the colorful foliage around my boots. They would dance briefly then glide to the ground again.

The early sun nearly blinded me once again as I stepped onto the dusty, dormant road which would take me past the house and to the edge of the woods I had called home for a few short days. I'd find the river just beyond, where she waited. They waited.

My stomach tightened with the thought of seeing them together. Did Alice say anything to Bella, and if so, what?

I began to jog, knowing I couldn't stand a slower pace. I passed the corner of the house and glanced over my shoulder. The faded red barn dominated everything. A collection of yellow, orange and red trees splattered behind it in unorganized clumps. I imagined the branches would become bare soon and that barn would be the only color around that farm. A figure emerged from the back entrance and I stopped, finding it difficult to understand why he was there. Charlie was at the waste piles, shoveling manure into a large bucket. Renee said he was tinkering around downstairs. How did he walk to the back of the barn so fast? Unless, he was never down... there.

The once-pleasant air escaped my lungs, and the tightness in my stomach turned into nausea. My knees felt as though they would give under weight of realization as it poured over me one heart beat at a time. What I thought, what I believed, was a lie. Nothing existed in that moment except the pounding in my head and the cranking of adrenaline as I began to shake. I moved toward the house at full sprint, my arms pumping and my legs exerting more force than I could have ever imagined.

Alice.

The harder I pushed, the more my body developed a painful bond with the cool air. It spread between my ribs and stung my lungs, but it wasn't the air I felt sending chills across my skin. It was fear, and I had never been more scared in my life than when I tore through the front door of that house, ripping off its disguise.

I'm coming, Al. Hold on. I'm coming.

My breaths were erratic as my palm turned the cold knob of the first door in the hall just below the creaky steps. I thought it would slip from my grasp, but I held firm. The cold air hit me, an invisible slap to the face when it wafted from the basement. An orange-tinted glow embraced a single wall, faintly lighting the descent into darkness. Then, there was nothing except pitch-black.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

The noise was louder but had weakened, a dying breath of what it once was. Only now I deciphered clearly what caused it; metal striking metal.

A muffled tone emanated from the dark.

"Alice?" I called out as I began the descent into Hell. I didn't know what I would stumble upon in the darkness. I'd never been down that particular area of the cellar, but I'd find her and get her out. I was too frightened to think what they had done or planned to do with her.

There was nothing except the cold pushing against my skin. "Let me know where you are." The jangle came again, more lively. Once I was sure of the last step I turned to my left, toward the sound, searching with my hands in front of me. "I'm here," I said into nothingness, hoping to give her comfort. "I'm gonna get you out."

A delicate sob filled my ears. I continued to walk straight, toeing each step so I wouldn't trip over anything, or step on her. My path was surprisingly clear.

Clink. Clink.

With each move the energy shifted, and I became more aware of her presence. I could sense her body through the inky cellar. Her breaths were loud and my heart turned into pulp from the sound of her sniffling.

My foot hit a solid but yielding object. I knelt, reaching to find flesh and when my fingertips brushed cloth, relief cloaked my thoughts.

She clinked and jingled the chains, wherever they were, and cried. Why didn't she speak? My hands rested on her hips, slanted from the wall, and I wanted to pull her to stand. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and apologize for ever letting her out of my sight, for being a jerk.

"I should've known better," I whispered, finding my voice flooding with emotion as my hands rose over the contours of her form.

The relief I felt disappeared when hair tickled my knuckles before I reached the swell of her chest. Alice's hair wasn't that long.

I searched to find cheeks and did. Wet, cold cheeks with a thick barrier at her mouth. They felt narrow, angling down toward a slender jaw and thin neck. This wasn't Alice.

I found the gag which clung stubbornly to her face. Smooth, thick tape. I ran a finger down the bridge of the nose then under and over the eye, finishing the circle over the eyebrow.

My declaration was hoarse. My fingers slid through her hair to the back of her head as I positioned myself over her more. A sandpaper-like wall scraped against my knuckles, but I persisted, resting my forehead against hers. "Bella."

She sniffled, her breaths colliding against the barrier at her mouth. I peeled it away, surprised how adhesive it was through all the tears. She gasped, her breath hitting my face.

"What are you doing down here? Why would they do this to you?" My chest split in two as the question I feared most lingered in the back of my throat. I didn't know if she would answer me. I exhaled harshly, cupping her wet cheeks. "Where's Alice?"

No words. Just excited, incoherent blubbers, and the chains clanking as she moved against me, wanting freedom.

Where's Alice? The question remained until I no longer wanted to believe what they might have done with her, until the nausea in my stomach turned sour with hate.

"I'll be back for you." I rose, distancing myself and I rushed through the dark, tripping once on something unknown.

She called out, saying what sounded like no.

"I'll be back. I promise," I said once more before taking the stairs two at a time into the light.

My heavy breath lapped over the silence. I was alone in the hallway and my terror lingered on every nerve, turning the calm space into an vast collage of revulsion. If only I had my guns. I'd use the bullets now. I had no time to look for them.

I slid a finger over the rough rubber handle of the knife on my belt, then pulled it from it's sheath to fold it against my forearm, unseen by anyone facing me. The kitchen was still cloaked in a strange familiar warmth which had been there since we arrived, when an uneasiness wasn't plucking at the hairs on the back of my neck.

Those days were no more.

The potatoes Renee peeled floated soundlessly in the water. A peek out the large window over the basin revealed her in the garden, her large hat atop her head and faithful dark basket by her side as she picked from the last of her precious summer plants. Liar. Fraud. Deceitful. Out of them all, I least expected her to allow her own daughter to be mistreated. Concerned motherly-type. My grip tightened on the knife.

I peeked out the screen door. No sign of Charlie from the barn, or Jasper and Emmett. I stepped from the house, searching in my periphery for any movement. Nothing. I moved forward, slowly at first, picking up the pace once away from the shadowy walls.

"What are you doing?" Renee's voice was a mere tickle compared to the blood rushing to my ears from my heart. Her white form rose in the corner of my eye, but she wasn't a threat so I didn't stop.

Anger boiled in my chest and bubbled through my shoulders, causing my palm to grind into the handle of the knife. My eyes were on the shed doors. It was the nightmare that played a million times in the back of my head.

Why didn't you go after her last night?

Why didn't you see why she was taking so long?

They've hurt her. They've killed her.

My eyes were hot, vision wanting to blur. I couldn't think such things. I had to hope for the best and expect the worst.

Renee called for me once again, a final plea, then called for Charlie as I reached the unlocked shed doors and pulled them open simultaneously.

Jasper and Emmett stood with their backs to me next to the butchering platform, and both turned as I entered.

My mouth dropped and my chest could no longer hold oxygen. I was deprived of air and warmth. I was numb, yet on the verge of insanity from the pain exploding in my chest.

Blurred sight.

No air.

Knees weakened.

I didn't understand, yet knew everything at once.

"Alice," I said, wavering. My heart ruptured and I felt it everywhere: my chest, feet, arms and in the air. I didn't want to look, but couldn't look away. Her once-fair skin was red, streaked with blood which ran down the length of her bare body to her chest and neck. Lines of it. Smears. Her hands were bound and dangled below her head. Her face was covered by her hair. Her feet were roped and hung from one of many hooks dangling from the ceiling.

She flinched with sudden ferocity when I called her name once more. She was alive! She moaned against the gag.

I began to move past the doors.

"You come any closer and she's dead right now," Jasper said, and pointed a butterfly knife to her exposed jugular.

I stopped. I believed him, but knew he was using her to get to me. "Please," I begged through a heavy breath. "Let her go. She has nothing to do with you and me."

"I figure she has a lot to do with it. You took somethin' of mine, so I'm gonna take somethin' of yours."

"I didn't take anything."

"Bullshit you didn't. My whole goddamn family noticed it, too! I didn't really know until last night with what you said about killin' me if I ever touched her again." He huffed in amusement. "That right there was a sure sign that you had gotten too deep."

"I didn't do anything with your wife," I said with confidence, hoping he'd believe me.

"There are only a few reasons why men go to war: land and women. You should know that, Ed."

Jasper reached into his pocket. He opened his palm and allowed the object to swing freely around his index finger.

My tags!

"It appears my wife was hidin' these." He eyed them. "Y'all've been keepin' secrets, but I knew there was something wrong with you the minute I saw you leanin' in that doorway." He dropped his hand, still clutching my property in his palm. "But you're different, aren't you?"

"Let her go," I said, balling my fist and clenching the handle tighter. "You don't want her. You want me! Me, not her!"

Jasper shook his head with a grin. "I know what you're doing, but it won't work. You're not like the rest of them. You're in black, and maybe that's why I didn't put it all together at first." He looked to Emmett. "We're so used to seeing green, but you're a special breed of soldier aren't you, Edward? Special Ops, maybe?"

"If you believe that then you already know how easy it would be for me to kill you. I know you don't want to die. Let her go and we'll leave now. That'll be the end of it."

"I'll let her go, alright. When I shit her out and you're rottin' in the woods where you belong. If only you could be alive to taste her."

"You'd probably enjoy it, too, considering you didn't enjoy her any other way," Emmett said, propping himself against a vertical beam.

Jasper nodded. "We were surprised when we found out she hadn't been fucked properly in a long time, but don't you worry about that, Eddie boy. We gave her one last hoorah."

She moaned when he slapped the back of her bare thigh. He only fueled my fire, turning the weakness in my heart to unbridled rage.

"It's okay, Al. I'm gonna get you out of here," I said, noting the old, wooden table to my left.

"Yeah, lie to her," Jasper said. "Lie to her like you've lied to us."

There was no more numbness. I felt the world shift, turning with me like it had countless times before as I absorbed my surroundings. The air, no longer cool, flushed my skin with heat and there were a thousand shades of gray in that rusty, old shed. I felt lighter, more agile, bursting with strength a hundred men would be jealous of.

In my periphery, out of all the jumbled mess on that table, I made out a deeply-curved, rusted hook with a horizontal handle. It seemed to be an older hand tool, but I didn't know what it was used for. However, I knew how I would use it.

"I'm going to kill you," I said, twitching the sharp blade against the back of my forearm and mentally charting the way to reach for the hook. "That's the truth."

Emmett's eyes locked with mine. He would die first. He had to, otherwise he'd hold me while Jasper finished me off. I weighed my actions carefully. I couldn't step toward them, or Jasper would make good on his promise. So, I grinned arrogantly and shuffled to the left. "You look scared," I directed to the behemoth. "You should be."

His face twitched, showing the aggravation building under his once-calm expression. He looked to Jasper, who nodded. Even though their exchange was quick before they both directed their attention back to me, I knew what it meant. Kill him.

Emmett's steps were lively, quick, like a bull from a pen and I prepared, anticipating his movements. He had no idea what fate was about to hand him as he raised his large fists to knock me back to the ground and out the doors.

He swung, and his movements would be crippling if he managed to hit me. I ducked and stepped to my left, slipping my fingers around the grip of the hook on the table. Emmett turned and advanced toward me once more as Jasper watched on next to Alice.

He swung ferociously over my head as I ducked and stepped to him, flipping the blade out and digging it low in his abdomen. There was resistance as the knife tore through the muscles. I pulled it back and he stumbled with an agonizing groan, then sucked air through his teeth and looked down at the red seeping through his white t-shirt. He would bleed, but he wouldn't be out of my way.

"Mother fucker," he gasped, and pushed his palms over the wound with a look of surprised. It looked like he wanted to bow to the pain and fall to the floor, but he stood.

In the past, most of my fights would end here. They would be stabbed or hurt and I would back down because my point was proven: don't fuck with me. This time, I would have no mercy.

My eyes soared over Alice once more. I regretted nothing as I raised the hook and brought it down into the side of his neck. He attempted to block, but it was too late. The damage had been done and it would be fatal, unlike the shallow knife wound.

I held him there at my whim, as blood spilled from between his lips. He was stunned, mouth open, eyes set on me, trying to process everything that just happened. His life probably passed before him in short glances. With minimal effort I pushed him away from me and to the ground, stealing the hook from his neck as gravity took him.

Satisfaction was short-lived.

Only Alice and a black table came between me and Jasper. His eyes peered from behind her body, and I approached cautiously, knowing he had one weapon to my two, but he was unpredictable, desperate, and I'd put nothing past him.

I had to down him, and I had to do it right then! I advanced, luring him away from Alice, and he circled, his eyes never leaving mine for a second. I had gained ground; Alice was next to me, gently swaying back and forth from the hook mounted on a beam not too far above my head. I only needed to lift the rope, which bound her feet, off the curve. I stopped her sway with the side of my hand, angling the bloody blade away from her.

How long had she been like that? How long did it take someone to die from hanging upside down? It was possible, and I'd known once, but the answer was far from reach. "Hold on," I whispered, my breaths erratic from the adrenaline.

"You're never getting outta here alive," Jasper taunted from the other side of Alice.

He stepped forward, pushing her toward me. Both hands full, I had no way of catching her to stop the swaying. The blow to my chest from her shoulder knocked me back and threw me off my balance. He came for me then, his knife held level his chest with the blade out and a tight fist in front of it. He was open, stupid and vulnerable. Only foolish men fought like that.

Finding my balance once more, I shifted my weight forward and swung the rusted hook toward him. He leaned back, dodging my false attempt, but he had done just as I wanted him to. His hands were no longer in position, they flailed when he leaned and I took my opportunity to plunge my knife into his sternum.

The resistance wasn't there as it had been with Emmett. The knife slipped in easily, and with it, my satisfaction. He wouldn't live from that wound. A lung would be punctured, but I wanted to be sure.

I retracted, and when I did he tried to force his weapon onto me once again. I dropped the hook and took his armed wrist in grasp while plunging into him once more with my knife and thrusted upward. He groaned as I gutted him, and whatever strength he held onto began to fade.

His frame fell against mine as he thumped on my back with his fist, his final battle. The knife I had held away from me fell from his hand and clanked to the ground.

I pushed him away, exhausted and shaking, feeling the cool air engulf my skin once more. He fell into a dormant heap. I slid the slick blade back into the sheath on my belt and took wide steps to Alice.

My wet, stained hands clutched her cold shoulders then grazed the back of her neck. She was still. Too still. "Alice, I've got you. Stay with me."

Expelled breath collected in front of us as I slowly lifted her head above her heart then rested her neck on my shoulder. I pushed on her hips, edging the rope to release from the hook.

"What have you done?" A husky voice questioned, filling the silence. Charlie.

I glanced over my shoulder, noting my M16 in his possession and my heart began to race once again. He clutched it with a lazy one-handed grip. Even so, if Charlie could aim the gun he could hit me or Alice. I had to get it away from him, and had no time to release Alice from her bonds. There was no choice but to leave her there a moment longer.

"Renee!" Charlie yelled toward the house. He lifted the gun between his hands, his finger over the trigger. I would meet my end by my own gun. A fate I accepted long ago. I wasn't scared to die, but I feared for Alice. What would happen to her if I wasn't here? Would Charlie continue with his sons' plan?

I started for the old man, hoping I'd make it before he fired a shot.

He squeezed the trigger, and I prepared to feel the extreme agony which married its high velocity, inhumane bullets. Nothing, except a click.

Relief.

He stepped back, eyes wide, and repeatedly squeezed the trigger. Nothing. I knew his fault. I grasped the barrel of the gun and thrust it toward his face. The handle collided with his nose. He released and fell back to the floor of the shed, blood beginning to drip from his nostrils. I hated him. I hated him for deceiving me, for tucking me under his arm after a hard day's work and telling me I did a good job. He allowed this to happen.

I positioned the gun, pushing the butt into my shoulder. "The safety was on," I said, flipping the switch.

I squeezed the trigger. Bullets began to fly from the barrel and into his torso, nearly blowing him apart.

One... two... three... four... five.

A fire spread through my shoulder and I hit the ground, unsure, confused. There was an echo across the trees toward the back of the property, and heat began to tear through me.

"Fuck," I muttered as I looked down to the pain. Liquid pulsed onto my black shirt through the new hole in my arm.

Shot. I'd been shot.

Approaching footsteps caught my attention. I peeked around the corner and was met with an explosion and a bullet hitting the door behind me. Renee. My pistol. I tucked the M16 close to me and inched away from the opening, the new pain clawing at my movements and spreading like wild fire through my chest and arm.

I groaned and huffed as I released the magazine. One bullet in the mag, and one in the chamber. Not even a full burst. I seated the magazine with a click and groaned as I pushed the butt of the gun to my shoulder. This was going to hurt.

You have to be precise. Be sure of the kill. Your life depends on it. Alice's life depends on it. Don't fuck up. My mantra.

A shadow crawled across the rocks and dirt, Renee's cautious form approaching close to the outer wall. I readied my finger over the trigger. Her voice, a whisper, was anger and sadness as she said Charlie's name.

"You killed them," she said gently before erupting, "You killed my family!"

I didn't respond. I knew better than to give away my position, especially when I was so vulnerable, but she knew nothing of tactics and when her shoulder and cheek came into view I had never been more sure of a kill in my entire life, even if it was a woman. I lifted the gun to my sight with all the strength I had and took aim, pushing through the pain. Alice's life depends on it.

She was there, and when she looked to me and raised the barrel of my pistol, I gave her my last two bullets. She hit the ground, dropping the gun and ceased to move. Lowering the weapon, I took in the bodies in front of me, seeing nothing except red coating the floor of the building.

I expected the air to clear of any tension that clung to me, but it became worse. I released the dead weapon and pushed myself to crawl on my knees, and eventually get up on my feet.

"I've got you. Stay with me. Keep your eyes open. Keep breathing. Focus on me. Look at me, Al. Look at me." I repeated it all again and again, as I worked to push her head onto my shoulder once more, slowly, painfully.

I tried, at first, to lift her with my good arm by placing my hand on the small of her back and pushing upward, but I wasn't as strong as I used to be, even though it seemed Alice weighed close to nothing. Tears swelled and began to blur my vision. The fire coursed through my arm, back and chest as I raised both hands to her ribs. I squeezed my eyes closed, fighting with myself until spots of red ignited under my lids the further I pushed her upward.

The flame grew hotter, my breathing stinted until I could no longer tolerate it.

Get her off this fucking hook! You have to! There is no other option! Suck it up and do it, goddamn pussy! Push through the pain! There is no pain! It's in your head!

I pushed harder, forced my shoulder to bear the weight. My brow furrowed as I reached the cusp of my limit. Still pushing, a glottal cry erupted from my throat, filling up our space with my agony until the rope finally slipped off the hook.

We fell backward, collapsing to the ground, her body cushioned by my own. I hollered one last time as my back hit the ground, nearly stealing the air from my chest.

I forced myself to sit, bringing her into my lap and allowing my arm to fall onto her bare stomach. There was so much blood, so much red and gray streaking and blotting her skin. Blood poured from narrow wounds in her lower abdomen. She had been stabbed multiple times, as if she hadn't suffered enough. I pressed my hand over as many as I could to keep the blood from exiting, but it continued to trickle softly to the ground.

"Al," I whispered. Her eyes, weak and bloodshot, opened, and the corners of her mouth lifted.

A sting from my nostrils spread across my cheeks and pricked my eyes until tears formed. My friend. How are you still alive?

"I'm so sorry," I said, struggling to maintain composure but finding it difficult the more I stared into her eyes, once so full of life.

"I don't... blame you," she managed to whisper, her throat constricting the barely audible words.

"How could you say that? It's all my fault."

"They were gonna kill you. I heard 'em. I couldn't let that happen..."

I shushed her, bent to kiss her forehead. A tear dripped onto her skin. "You're all right now. No one's going to hurt you. I'll get you inside somehow, get you warm. I'm going to take care of you. Just... just stay with me. You'll get better, you'll see and then we'll go to Flordia where it's warm and we can start our own farm, and not have to worry about the freezing weather or people trying to hurt you. We'll be happy there, Al."

My fingertips scraped her once-smooth hair ― now matted ― over and over as I combed it back away from her eyes.

She said nothing in response, but her cheeks lifted as she smiled. Her chest sank with an exhale, dragging the smile along with it.

I waited for it to rise with an intake of breath, but there was nothing except stillness. It was a silence I never expected, never wanted. I'd fought against it since our first meeting, until my mind was my enemy, until my hands were coated in other men's blood. All so I would never have to endure the moment when life ceased to exist in her body. It was my fault. It was all my fault.

I didn't want to let her go, but she left with or without my permission and without another word.

Horrible heat crept over my face, burning my eyes and stinging my nostrils. Pain resided where my heart used to beat and I pulled her limp body into my chest, trying to ignore the fire consuming my arm. Her frozen face brushed against my neck, and I wanted nothing more than to warm her cooling skin. I'd take her injuries. I would have suffered so she didn't have to. If it were me, she would know how to care for me. "I don't know what to do," I said, perhaps hoping she'd answer me. She always knew what to do.

But that silence? I couldn't endure it.

I had survived so many things: jumping out of planes, crossing enemy lines, having a building collapse on me, but I wouldn't survive this. Not when there was nothing left for me to live for. Not when this was all my fault.

Her eyes, still open, were glossy with her last tears, but dull and hollow. No Alice. Nothing. Only the wailing throes of death as I brought her into my chest.

"I'm so sorry." I removed my hand from her stomach, stained with the remainder of her vitality. I couldn't bear to see her eyes open when they no longer served a purpose. I shook my head and reached two fingers over her lids, closing her eyes from the world.

I was left with the tormented wind, hissing through the wooden cracks overlooked by its maker and the slight jingle of small tools against their hooks. The haunted sound plunged into my thoughts, reminding me of one final thing to be taken care of before I left this place forever.

A chill traveled down my spine as another tear drop freed itself from my lid. I carefully lowered Alice to the floor then stroked her head and hair with my palm before crawling to Jasper.

I searched his old, dirty clothes one-handed. "Where is it you son of a bitch?" I growled, digging in his pockets, searching, hoping for cold metal to brush my fingertips. I pulled my tags from him and roped them over my head so they could sit on my neck. I continued to search until I found the one thing I was looking for and when cold sparked against my skin I knew what I had found.

The key.