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Posted March 18, 2013
Posted March 17, 2013
Don't Look Back
Don't Look BackWas this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
I lean against the rough bark and close my eyes. I force my crazed breathing and rapid heart to slow down. A huge sigh escapes my lips.
I open my eyes.
Just in time to see the wet cloth clapped over my nose and mouth.
* * *
I wake up in the back of a van. Or, at least, I think it's a van. A black burlap bag is over my head, so I can't see a thing. By the sound of groans, someone else is here, too.
"What happened?" I ask the source of the moans.
A weak "ugh..." answers me. A moment later, a voice interrupts the other voice's slurring.
"They drugged us. Knocked us out and threw us in here." Someone says. A girl's voice. Probably my age.
"Do you guys have the bags on?" I ask.
"Uuuggghhhh..." The first voice manages.
"Yes. Are your hands tied?" The girl's voice adds.
"Yeah." I say, crestfallen.
"And your feet?" The girl presses.
"Yeah." I repeat.
Silence fills the stifling air.
"Look on the bright side. If they'd wanted to kill us, we'd already be dead." The girl reasons.
"Ugh!" The other voice, which I've decided belongs to a boy, agrees. Or maybe he's disagreeing. Or maybe he's unconcious.
"I'm Bridget, by the way." The girl continues.
"I'm Perry." I reply.
We sit in quiet again.
"Perry," Bridget begins. "Do you think we're going to die?"
"I don't know. Like you said, if they wanted us dead, they probably would've killed us." I tell her.
"Everyone says that." A male voice mutters darkly.
"Who's that?" I snap.
"I'm Braedyn." His voice is soft, but strong.
I open my mouth to say something, when the vehicle stops.
"What's happening?" Bridget cries.
I feel a rush of fresh air on my arms and legs. The ropes around my ankles are untied, and rough hands drag me out of the vehicle by my shoulder.
"Move, prisoners!" A growling voice commands.
I hear someone sobbing.
"Please don't hurt me! I didn't do anything!" Another voice wails.
We are marched on. I feel the air change, and a wall brushes my arm. A cramped place. Suddenly, we are thrust into icy air.
The bag is ripped from my face, and I stare at a huge crowd of people.
Soldiers in white uniforms stand guard, gripping their guns and surveying the audience from behind their helmets and visors.
I think of the war and swallow. Memories of public executions come to mind. My father had been killed that way. But why am I the one on the stage now? Because I am my father's daughter? Because rebels saved me when I was small?
Because the world has gone mad?
"Hello, good citizens!" A booming voice calls. I see a man with a short, groomed beard and greased-back gray hair on a platform above the crowd. "Today we witness the executions of these rebels! They slaughtered innocent people and destroyed this world! We are here to take a stand against this cruelty, this horror! These monsters will be crushed!"
Hollers of agreement from the crowd. This man has swayed everyone to believe him.
"Who's that?" I whisper to the girl beside me. She has fiery hair and large green eyes.
"Cornelius Flenn. You didn't know?" She hisses back in a familiar voice.
"Bridget?" I ignore her question.
"Wait- Perry?" She glances at me. "You're a BLONDE?"
"Off topic! And who cares? Just 'cause I'm a blonde doesn't mean I'm stupid or stuck-up or girly!"
"Whatever. Flenn's, like, in charge now." Bridget continues.
"What? He' s killing innocent people!" I protest.
Suddenly, a bullet launches from the gun of the soldier directly to my right. Flenn collapses. Chaos breaks loose
Posted May 22, 2012