Limerence II (24 page)

Lee is middle-aged, but his skin is weathered and leathery, making him look a lot older than his years. His eyes are sunken from lack of proper nutrition and his hair is gray and thinning.

The young girls screams, and pulls me from my thoughts. The guards are behind her now, forcing her to climb. She’s sobbing and begging again, and tears spring to my eyes. My own fear and anger are bubbling to the surface. Fear for her and for me…

“Fine.” I swallow down the mammoth-sized lump in my throat. “I’ll go with her then.”

Did I really just say that? I can’t go with her…

Lee stops and turns to me once more, confusion furrowing between his brows. “Do you know what you are saying?”

I wonder what he used to do, who he used to be in his previous life. Life without the
others
, without the walls, without the fear of…everything. It seems like a lifetime ago now. I bet he was a lawyer; everyone hates lawyers, and he seems the type of person people would hate. I know
I
do.

I look at her again. She’s crying for her mom, but her mom can’t hear her cries now. Her mom is zombie chow, or a zombie; shit, who knows? My blood thumps in my ears, and I know I am more than likely killing myself by doing this. I have no training and no skills. I’m just a chick with an attitude problem and a penchant for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, as is shown by my current situation. I have nothing to offer her in the way of safety; shit, I’ll probably get us killed quicker; but then they say there’s safety in numbers, right?

“Yes. I understand.” I nod and take a deep breath.

Um, actually no. I’m obviously an idiot who has lost her mind. Please stop me before I kill us both.

Pushing past him, I walk toward the steps. The men stop pushing the girl up, and try to grab me and pull me away, obviously thinking that I’m attempting to thwart their murder of her.

Because that’s what it is: murder.

When others were forced to leave, I felt nothing. No remorse, no guilt. I certainly didn’t feel like it was up to me to try and save the day, but that was different.
They
were different. They were bad: murderers, rapists, real thieves—not a starving child who was desperate. That’s what we were told, anyway.

I look back at everyone standing and watching. Not a single other person willing to help. Mothers with their own children in their arms, and men looking ashamedly to their feet. I look away in disgust. Yes, I’ve definitely had enough of this place, and these people. I’m willing to take my chances out there. I hold my chin up high.

“Get off me, you idiots. I’m not stopping you…” I shrug them off angrily and look up to her. She’s four steps up with tears streaming down her pretty, pale face. I know that I am doing the right thing…probably not the brightest idea I’ve ever had, but then I’ve always been told I’m reckless.

Perhaps this has nothing to do with her. Perhaps she’s just an excuse to leave. I hate this place; I have hated it since I came here. I’m not some dumb blonde running back into the house of horrors, unaware of the murderer upstairs. No, I know exactly what I’m getting myself into, and I couldn’t be happier about it.

“I’m going with her.” I push past them and begin to climb.

Claire C Riley lives in the United Kingdom with her husband, three beautiful daughters, and one scruffy dog. Her work is best described as the modernization of classic, old-school horror. She fuses multi-genre elements to develop storylines that pay homage to cult classics while still feeling fresh and cutting-edge. She writes characters that are realistic and kills them without mercy.

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