Page 94 of Misted

Hawk

It’s never black when everything goes to hell. It’s red.

Past,

Mist’s bloodied face brings sickness to the back of my throat.

I can’t believe I was late and I failed her.

I close my eyes and place her unconscious body in front of the room where I shot the scum Nero. She’s breathing evenly, but the blood marring her nose, mouth, and cheeks is alarming. I don’t even know what else that fucker – who I want to bring back to life just so I can kill him all over again – has done to her.

Her jeans are slightly ripped, but her underwear is intact. Just the thought that this could’ve been worse fills me with deep-seated rage at myself. I should’ve protected her, but I didn’t.

I pat her hand one last time and turn to the room. I close the window, the bathroom and everything in sight. I kick Nero’s unmoving body over and over again. I want to keep kicking him all night, but Mist needs help.

I grab the sheets and anything flammable and surround his body with them. Crouching, I fumble in his pocket until I find the bottle of whiskey he always keeps with him. I pour it all over his corpse and retrieve my lighter. I set him and the sheets on fire and then I’m running towards Mist without looking back.

Nero can rot in hell.

I scoop her limp body in my arms and close the motel room’s door. I sneak through a creaky, small entrance for the staff and then I’m sprinting in the back alleys. Homeless people and dirty children stare at me with wild eyes as if I’m carrying a corpse. I want to fucking murder them for even suggesting such a thing.

Mist is alive. She’s the liveliest thing I know, and no one will take that away from her.

No one will take our dream away. It’s only a week. Our escape is in a week.

I wish I can fucking take her right now and never go back, but today is a special mission day. All Team Zero's members are out, and so are a few of the second generation assassins. Which means all the guards are watching us. They have trackers on us. I removed mine, and still carry it in my pocket to not raise suspicion, but Mist hasn’t, and I don’t even know where they planted hers.

If I take the time to search for it, I can put her life in danger.

She’s fucking pregnant!

My best bet is the hospital. An actual hospital, not The Pit’s hospital where the sadistic doctors treat us like lab rats. If the guards find us, I’ll distract them while the doctors take care of Mist. Then, I’ll find that tracker and we’re out of here.

For fucking good.

“Hawk…” she mumbles, her voice filled with vibrations from how her head bumps against my chest.

“It’s okay, Hellion.” I seal a quick kiss to her forehead. “We’re going to be okay.”

“The… b-baby…” Her eyes are closed, but tears stream down her cheeks.

“He or she is fine. They take after your stubbornness.”

Her lips twitch in what would’ve been a smile before her body falls limp in my hold.

I tuck her close to me so she’s more comfortable and continue sprinting ahead. The nearest hospital is a few streets away.

We’re almost there.

I round the corner of an alley and come to a screeching halt.

Three of The Pit’s guards wait with rifles raised high.

Fuck! How did they find us so soon? Even with the bloody tracker, we had more than half an hour before the deadline where they’ll be pushed to search for us.

“We’re going back,” one of them says in a detached tone. He doesn’t even spare a glance at Mist’s bloodied, unconscious body.

“She needs help.” I try to negotiate. If I fight them, Mist can be in danger.