Chapter 133: The road ahead

There was a slight limp in my step as I walked down the hallway, one hand brushing against the wall to steady myself when my leg threatened to give out. Blood had dried under my eye and along the side of my face, stiff against my skin, but my vision stayed clear.

Too clear.

Another explosion went off somewhere behind me. The walls shook, dust falling from the ceiling as the sound echoed through the structure. It was followed by screams that blurred together in a way that made it hard to tell what was pain and what was something else entirely. Gunshots cracked through it all, sharp and constant.

I did not turn around.

It never took much to bring this place down to shit. Never took much at all.

I stepped over a body without looking down. My boot slid slightly in something wet, but I kept moving anyway.

Under normal circumstances, I would have been running. I would have been doing everything in my power to get out, to put distance between me and whatever chaos I had just set off.

But that voice in my head stayed quiet.

It had been replaced by something colder. Something steady. Something that did not care about getting out.

Something that wanted me to watch as everything fell.

Something that told me to stay back as the remnants of hell grow hotter and hotter for these demons to handle.

I stopped for a brief moment.

A door slammed open ahead of me, crashing against the wall hard enough to crack the wood. Something came through it low and fast. It moved on all fours, its limbs jerking in uneven bursts as it locked onto me with a wide, blood-slick grin.

Its eyes burned.

It lunged.

I raised the gun without thinking and fired once.

The shot hit clean. The body dropped mid-motion and skidded across the floor, leaving a smear behind it.

I did not stop to check it.

I just stepped over it and kept going.

It was almost too easy.

The thought came without resistance.

Too easy to move through this place like it meant nothing. Too easy to pull a trigger and keep walking like I had not just ended something.

But it had not started here.

It had never started here.

My mind dragged me back without asking.

Texas.

The heat. The dust. The way people looked at me when I first walked into that compound with Lila beside me like I belonged there.

I lied my way in.

I told them what they wanted to hear. I gave them just enough truth to make the rest believable. I watched them lower their guard piece by piece until they were letting me walk through their space like I had always been there.

I knew what I was doing.

I knew what I would have done if they said no.

I would have killed them.

Or…enough, just to make it out of there alive.

The realization had been there even then, sitting in the back of my mind, quiet but present.

And they still helped me.

Strangers.

People who had no reason to trust me.

People I used anyway.

I stepped over another body, my jaw tightening slightly as the memory settled in.

Back then, I told myself it was necessary.

That it was for something bigger.

That it was for survival.

But I never fully believed it.

Part of me always hated it. The way words could twist someone. The way I could look someone in the eye and make them believe something that was not real just to get what I needed.

I kept walking.

The hallway opened up slightly, giving way to a wider space filled with debris and broken furniture. A fire had started somewhere nearby, the glow of it flickering against the walls.

The heat pressed against my skin.

Back then, I did not know who I was doing it for.

For me.

For Lila.

Maybe both.

I let out a slow breath through my nose.

It did not matter anymore.

They were gone.

All of them.

Aubrey.

Julia.

Carl.

Adira.

Lila.

The names hit harder than anything else in the room.

I pushed them down.

There was no point.

No one was coming.

No one was flying in to pull me out of this. No last-minute rescue. No second chance waiting just outside the door.

That kind of thing did not exist here.

I was on my own.

The realization settled in my chest and stayed there.

I turned a corner, my steps slowing just slightly as something caught my eye.

A mirror.

Cracked down the middle, barely hanging onto the wall, but still intact enough to reflect something back.

I stopped.

Just for a second.

I looked at myself.

Blood.

Dirt.

Something off in my expression that I did not recognize right away.

Then I saw it.

A flicker.

Blue.

It ran through the veins in my eyes for a split second before disappearing like it had never been there.

My eyes darkened.

I stared at my reflection a little longer, recognition flickering.

So that was it.

So no matter what, no matter how, no matter how ethically wrong it was, I was going to survive.

The thought came clean.

Clear.

There was no hesitation behind it.

No guilt strong enough to stop it.

I tore my gaze away from the mirror and kept moving.

Another gunshot rang out somewhere ahead. Someone shouted. Something crashed hard enough to shake the floor under my feet.

I adjusted my grip on the gun.

My leg ached with every step, but I did not slow down.

Whatever this place had been before, it was gone now.

All that was left was what I made of it.

And I was done pretending I was anything else.

I moved forward, steady despite the limp, stepping through the smoke and the noise like it belonged to me.

Because at the end of the day, there was only one thing that mattered.

I was still alive.

And I was going to keep it that way.

—

Cherie sat on the wooden fence with her arms folded, staring down at her wrist like there was a watch there.

There was not.

Still, she checked it anyway.

Time felt strange out here. It stretched, bent, disappeared when it wanted to. Days blended together until she could not tell how long they had really been moving.

All she knew was that it had been a while.

Long enough for the roads to change. Long enough for the buildings to thin out into open land and scattered trees. Long enough for the air to feel different in her lungs.

Rural.

Quiet.

It was nothing like the city she grew up in.

She watched as Saul led one of the horses out of the stable, his hand steady on the strap as he guided it forward. Jackson followed behind him with another, already looking like he would rather be anywhere else.

“Easy there,” Saul murmured, his voice calm as the horse shifted under his touch.

Cherie pushed herself off the fence and walked over, her boots crunching lightly against the dirt. She slowed as she got closer, her eyes scanning the animals with a mix of curiosity and caution.

She had never been this close to a horse before.

Not like this.

Saul looked up when he noticed her, offering a small smile before holding out a strap toward her. The horse attached to it was a black stallion, its coat dark and clean despite everything, its mane thick enough to catch her attention right away.

“I, uh…” Saul started, rubbing the back of his neck for a second. “I thought about you when I saw this one.”

Cherie raised an eyebrow slightly.

“I hope it is to your liking,” he added.

She reached out, taking the strap from him. Her fingers tightened around it without her meaning to.

It was warm.

Alive.

She looked at the horse, then back at Saul.

“Thanks,” she said.

Jackson did not wait.

He swung himself onto his horse like he had done it a hundred times before, settling in and pulling the reins without much care.

“What are you two waiting for?” he called out. “We moving or not?”

Cherie glanced at him, then back at Saul.

Saul let out a quiet breath.

“Do you want me to—”

“I think I got it,” Cherie cut in.

She stepped closer to the horse, her grip tightening on the strap as she sized it up. There was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, but it did not last long.

Pride settled in its place.

She lifted her foot, trying to find a stable position before pushing herself up.

The horse shifted immediately, reacting to the unfamiliar movement. Its body tensed, stepping sideways just enough to throw her off balance.

“Hey—” Cherie muttered, grabbing onto whatever she could.

Saul moved fast, his hand coming up to steady the horse, his voice lowering again.

“Easy,” he said, more firmly this time.

The horse settled, though it still shifted under her weight.

Cherie adjusted herself, trying again. It took a second, but she managed to swing her leg over and sit properly, her posture stiff as she tried to keep herself balanced.

She let out a small breath.

Saul looked up at her.

“Do not grip too tight,” he said. “They feel that. If you get tense, they get tense. Just sit steady and let it move under you.”

Cherie nodded, trying to loosen her hold just a bit.

It felt strange.

Unnatural.

But not impossible.

She glanced down at Saul, a small smile forming despite herself.

“Got it,” she said.

Jackson snorted from ahead of them.

“About time,” he muttered.

Saul shook his head lightly before stepping back.

“Just stay close,” he added.

Cherie adjusted her grip on the reins, taking a breath before nudging the horse forward slightly.

It moved.

Not perfectly.

Not smoothly.

But it moved.

And just like that, the road ahead felt a little less impossible.

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