A trembling breath is released somewhere to my right.
Are we all waiting for the screams we’ve heard so much about? I take in a long breath, and with it comes the smell of wildflowers.
Whatever small amount of relief I felt for those few moments, where the air was calm and natural, is gone in an instant. The smell of decay takes my breath away just before a rough hand grips my arm, jerking me back.
In a flash, light floods my vision. I flinch and blink in the light. We are in a forest, more green than I’ve seen in years beside a mountain casting us in its shade.
The sun is somewhere behind it, blocked from view.
“Welcome to the den,” the masked man says over my shoulder. “Where you will be tried. Are you worthy of life or worthy of death? You will enter the culling to await your fate.”
A chill seeps down into my bones.
“Mercy, mercy. Give us mercy,” a girl continues to chant, rocking back and forth.
One of the masked men stomps forward to a thin woman with mousy brown hair matted and sticking to her face. He grips her chin. “Unlikely,” he says then shoves her to the ground.
Another masked warrior steps up to me. When I refuse to look him in eye, he too grips my chin. “Don’t worry, Little Mouse, I’ll see you soon.”
Andthatis the worst threat he could have given me.
10
Lina
The massive warrior steps away and is quickly replaced by a dozen men in golden skull masks who spread out to surround us. Their bodies are covered by long red cloaks, and they each wear a gem hanging on the end of a long chain.
“Move!” one of them yells.
The sharp whir of a whip makes me jump, and my knees nearly buckle. “No,” I whisper.
But somehow, my body moves as commanded. I follow along with the people around me through the trees, trying not to panic. I am barely holding on. Barely breathing. Barely remaining upright.
Though the sun is out of sight, the orange cast on the sky suggests it is close to setting.
We move slowly on weak legs and starved bodies. An older woman stumbles to her knees, and without thinking, I rush to help her up. She smiles, exposing rotten teeth.
I smile back and somehow find the strength to support her weight along with mine.
Her arm against mine is a comfort, despite the extra effort required. Down a small hill, we find more refugees gatheredbetween a wooden platform and a large pond of brown water before a massive open cave.
I gasp as I peer up at the giant skull face carved into the side of the mountain. Its mouth is gaping open like it’s screaming. How is that even possible?
“Keep moving!” a warrior shouts.
I stumble forward and follow my small group down the grassy hill, straight into the brown water. It splashes against my burning skin. I need water like I need air, but even so, I hold back until others have drunk first.
I count to three, that’s the most patience I am capable of before I dunk my head. I slurp as much of the questionable water as I am able before the masked men come. Someone grabs me by the hair and shoves me to the bank. I scramble up, trying my best to obey.
The men in skull masks herd us toward a circle beside the platform where the others are crowded together. Some have on nice clothes, like they came for a banquet. Some have on rags.
My breathing is labored as I brush my wet hair from my eyes and carefully step over the scorched black line that marks the circle.
The crowd parts to make room for us. One woman in a lush blue skirt eyes me and scoffs. A man bumps into me then shuffles away without a reaction in his sunken eyes.
I’ve known there are cities still packed with people, but I’ve seen so few in the last few years it still boggles my mind to be around so many. Life still exists in this broken world, I know, but sometimes I forget.
“Welcome, refugees,” a sweet voice calls, sending unnatural stillness to spread through the circle.
