Chapter Seven: Arrows or Answers?

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The fear in their eyes speak volumes. They aren’t just scared they’re terrified of getting shot. Blondie’s eyes dart to the gun that lays near his feet.

“That wouldn’t be the smartest move there blondie.”

He looks at the gun in a hesitated glance.

“Don’t be stupid Zach,” the brunette boy hisses never letting his eyes stray away from the arrow trained in-between them, “I’m not trying to die because of your mistake.”

Zach pulls his attention back to my arrow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the human eye move so fast.

“Now,” my voice says echoing throughout the small cabin, “my answers please.”

Silence stretches over the span of a couple seconds as a reply to my question.

Hard way it is then.

My arm drops low toward Zach’s feet and lets the arrow fly. Blondie lets out a startled yelp and jumps as the arrow imbeds itself a couple inches away from his toes.

“Ok, ok!” Zach shouts his voice wobbling in panic.

My arm reaches behind me and grabs an arrow. Loading the bow is as easy and fast as dragging in and releasing a breath.

“Answers, now,” I demand calmly.

My calm and collected tone shocks me. I’m maybe seconds away from finding out who I am and I’m just calm? I should be freaking out. Shouldn’t I?

“They wouldn’t be able to tell you,” Smoke grunts out in pain, “they aren’t high enough in ranking.”

Ranking, what the actual hell?

“Then who is highly enough ranked?” I ask changing my arrows target.

“Your arrow is pointing at him.”

“Then give me the answers I want.”

“We both know I can’t.”

And just like that my old friend anger makes an appearance again. He greets me head on embracing me in a fierier hug taking away my ability to keep a calm, cool, rational head. My feet move in angers control. They find themselves marching over to Smoke till my arrow is directly in his face. I’m so close to him that I can see the blood that’s seeped through his black suit.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you right this instant,” anger sneers through my mouth in my voice.

“I could give you hundreds,” he taunts, “but this one reason should be enough.”

“You better pray it is.”

“I know your past, present, and future.”

“What are you a fortune teller?”

He does something that makes me want to shoot him. He laughs.

In. My. Face.

“You’re still amusing you know, at least that hasn’t changed.”

“Will you stop playing games with me.”

“Why? Is it starting to annoy you?”

“This whole conversation has been annoying me.”

“No,” he says suddenly leaning closer toward my arrow, “This conversation isn’t annoying you in fact this conversation is anything but annoying. This conversation is the most important thing to you, and we both know it.”

He’s right in every way possible and that is what makes my friend anger hotter headed than what he already is.

“You won’t kill me,” he states confidently leaning back against the wall trying to hide his grimace of pain, “because if you did you’d never get your answers.”

I snap. No not me but anger snaps. Anger upgrades to pure unaltered rage. Hello Rage, nice to meet you, I am NoName, make yourself at home. Rage doesn’t hesitate, he flows through my very being. He takes a step back away from Smoke withdrawing my bow form his face.

“See I told you, you can’t kill me even if you tri-” my foot meeting his face in a solid kick cuts his sentence off. A string of blood and saliva rips from his mouth as his eyes go out of focus before sliding to the back of his head. He slumps against the wall unconscious with a slit in his lip bleeding slowly. Rage crouches down and dissipates within me. I lean down till I am eye level with the knocked-out Smoke.

“I won’t kill you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t make you wish I had.”

“NoName!” Scotty yells suddenly making me freeze. In the corner of my eye I can see Blondie has decided to ignore my advice. He’s making a play for the once forgotten gun on the ground. My body moves on auto-pilot knowing exactly how to handle the situation. My body fluently moves on its own accord. Surprisingly I drop my bow. I feel defenseless without my bow but my body feels empowered, excited even at the chance to prove how capable it is. My body drops into a roll. My head tucks toward my knees as my back rolls over my head. It takes less than a second to reach him before he can even have a good grasp on the gun. My leg kicks out and sweeps his legs out from underneath him. He drops the gun like a brick falling from a house roof, hard and fast. His head cracks against the cabin’s floor, so hard I’m surprised I don’t see blood. His hands drop the gun to clench the sides of his head. My body springs up and grabs the gun. It’s a foreign feeling, holding the gun doesn’t feel right. I don’t like it, but something about the way it feels intrigues my body. It likes it. Why? Why would my body almost feel natural holding the gun? Scotty stands at the narrow mouth of the hallway with Bunny behind.

“You want to try something dumb too?” I ask the other boy the gun focused souly on him.

He shakes his head vigorously.

“You’re the smart one of the group then.”

“We’ll find you, we always do,” the forgotten voice of Mouse says on the ground holding two hands over his wound. The arrow end peeked out from between his fingers.

I forgot he was here. A pool of tinted black blood has gathered around his arrow impaled leg.

Ouch, that’s got to hurt.

“Not anymore,” I say. Much like Smoke his eyes roll to the back of his head as unconsciousness claims another victim.

“Scotty,” I ask keeping the gun trained on the last standing intruder.

“Yes?” he asks stepping to my side.

“Do you know how to drive?”

“Yeah, dad taught me.”

“Take my arrow bag, bow, and the blankets out to the jeep and wait for me, Bunny go with him.”

Without hesitation they follow my orders. The air tenses as the kids gather everything I told them too and exit the cabin in a hurry to escape.

“Now what to do with you?” I question.

“Please,” he shouts suddenly his features contorting into worry and unashamed fear, “I swear I’ll stay here.”

My eyes narrow at him. Does he take me for an idiot?

“I swear it!”

“Go over there and sit beside your friend.”

He walks obediently and sits beside his groaning in pain friend. I follow him decided that I can’t take any chances.

“Sorry kid,” I say striding over to him.

“Wait! Please I can tell you a name!” he pleads in a bargain. It works I pause in mid stride.

“They’re called The Branch, they want you back.”

“Back? What do you mean back?”

“Did you ever wonder where you came from? Why you’re different?”

“You said you didn’t know anything about me,” I snarl anger beginning to raise again.

“I only know this much I swear!”

“I’m done with lies,” I sneer before slamming the bud of the gun to the side of his head. Unconsciousness falls over him before he can protest his innocence. The sudden beep of a horn makes me snap out of my body’s control. A cold horror washes over me as I look around the cabin. Three intruders lay unconscious, one lays groaning in pain holding his head, and Smoke and Mouse have blood covering some part of their body. Another beep from outside doesn’t allow me to dwell on the damage I’ve caused. I spin and exit the cabin before I can really think on what or who I am. The sun’s glare blinds me as I burst out of the cabin for a couple minutes before my vision returns. Scotty’s behind the jeep’s steering wheel with Bunny in the passenger’s seat. I step down off the porch using the steps and listening to their familiar creaks. I quickly walk to Bunny’s window and she rolls it down for me. A look of concern covers her face as she looks at me. A million questions reflect in her eyes. It’s a look I can’t afford to see. Instead I focus on Scotty. His face is passive and only shows a look that asks, ‘what’s the next move.’ A sudden appreciation for Scotty makes me smile a bit. Who knew Scotty could be mature in anyway?

“Questions later,” I say. I reach into the jeep through Bunny’s open window. I hand the gun to Scotty or at least I try to. His passive face turns to a cold glare. Mood swings is this boys best friend it seems.

“Safety’s on,” I state pushing the gun toward him more. He grabs the handle of the gun gingerly and still remains at looking at it coldly.

“Follow me,” I pull away from the window and go to the truck a couple feet away from the jeep, “stay on my tail end the whole time.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Scotty says in a mocking way giving me a soldier’s salute. You wouldn’t think I just what two men with arrows and was almost held at gun point. Guess Scotty just has that effect on situations that need it. I jump into the still running black truck. A cold metal hits my leg as I slide into the driver’s seat. The silver metal of the key catches my eye. A black slender bullet hangs for the car’s ignition on the key chain. Hmm that’s odd. I go to touch it but another shrill beep from the jeep makes me jump. Scotty and Bunny are pointing toward the cabin door. The boy I didn’t knock unconscious is stumbling out of the cabin. He looks slightly green and unbalanced.

Time to go.

The sound of gravel kicking up signals our leave.

How can someone know me better than I know myself?

My head begins to pound with the intense buildup of questions. They pound at a barrier in my mind trying to escape out of my mouth. They want answers. I want answers. With Scotty and Bunny following my lead we leave the only place I can remember as home.