Chapter Five

Blood snaked through the grout and led back to the arrow in the dying boy's gut. Screams rattled the room but didn't stop the bleeding or fix the puncture.

That's what she needed to do.

Kneeling beside him, she took his shirt and ripped it half-way up his chest. What now? Were you supposed to leave the arrow in? What does she know?

Her hands hovered around the arrow and accidentally knocked the feathers.

Henry hissed, and blinked open his eyes. "Layla?"

"Henry!"

The clouds were gone from his eyes, and he scowled. "Layla! What are you doing? You need to run!"

"I'm fixing you," she gripped her fingers around the stem of the arrow.

He sucked in a breath. "No, you're not. You need to get out of here! Whatever's out there is close now and you're just hurting me right now."

His words stung, but she couldn't scold a dying boy. "Henry..."

"Get out of here! It's picking us off and you're next," Henry's breathing became labored. "That window. Get out."

Even bleeding out, Henry fixed Layla with such a disapproving stare that she wanted to argue with him. His normally aloof attitude had been replaced by a passionate fire. Must be his soul taking its final stand. Layla took a deep breath. "Okay."

The window in question was about waist high. Layla grabbed the ceramic soap dispenser off the sink and threw it at the window, then quickly she used her body to shield Henry from the blowback.

Hoisting herself onto the broken window hurt, but it was minuscule compared to her dearest friends on the verge of death.

With one leg already over, she looked back at her usually vibrant friend being drained of life in the bathroom decorated with flickering fluorescent lights. "I'll save you, Henry. You and Rachel—I promise."

As she swung her other leg over, she could swear there was a smile tugging at his lips.

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The wind stole the tears from her face and threw them into the downpour as her feet steadily thumped against the hard ground. Branches whacked her face and torso, slicing her skin. She had betrayed her closest friends.

When she had been escaping through the window, she had fallen on her back again. For a second, she had believed it was the beginning of the night and she was climbing a chain-link fence. The fog had parted from her mind when no one had poked her to make sure she was okay or had made fun of her pain. That took the breath out of her easier than the fall.

As she was lost in regret, a hole caught her foot and sent her tumbling. She took a second to feel the ground for her glasses, and once she gripped them, she realized no droplets of water coated the surface. Dirt smudged her knees, but it wasn't mud.

Standing up with her glasses on, dry leaves crunched. It wasn't rainy or windy anymore. Tall, spindly trees dotted the forest as far as she could see, eventually coalescing into a solid wall of brown and black that she couldn't see past...in all directions. She had run straight into the woods.

Being mauled by a bear probably should've been top on her list of worries, but she wasn't worried about herself. Instead, Henry and Rachel occupied her mind. Each second she stared into the endless forest accounted for one more second Henry was holding on to life itself, staring into harsh fluorescent lights, with no one beside him to tell him everything was going to be alright. One more second Rachel was alone, confused, and wondering why her brother and best friend had left her helpless and hurt. One more second water crept closer to her. Assuming the room hadn't already been filled with rainwater boreal and frigid.

Was the yellow-eyed creature chasing after Layla or was he with her friends? Was he finishing them off? One more second the uncertainty lingered.

Where was she supposed to go? She was pretty sure heading in the direction to her left would bring her to the road she needed, but what if she had gotten disoriented and that direction led back to the pool house? One more second she stood debating her next step was a second the creature could potentially catch up.

Then she heard it. She heard sirens singing a sweet, distant melody promising safety...to her left.

Her feet took off. Happiness blossomed inside her, serving as a shield to the uncertainty surrounding every step. Every second.

Asphalt soon took over the grass and the sirens were ear-shattering. Right behind her. She turned around.

Lights drowned the street in a blue and red haze. Layla raised her hands from shielding her eyes to the sky, waving wildly. The nightmare was over. Layla was going to be saved—her friends were going to be saved.

As the purr of the automobile engines shut off, Layla couldn't help but feel like she had won.

They were saved.

<p style="direction: rtl; ">THE END