Hunted

Four: Questions

James walked silently beside Ethan and Carrie under the branches of the pine trees that surrounded the arena. The muggy air was filled with the smell of pine needles, dried earth and resin. The air itself seemed dead, no birds sang, the farm stock in the fields were silent, the waves didn't even seem to want to crash against the cliffs that stood only a short walk from where they trudged. All was silent, eerily silent. The only sound was the students' muffled footsteps, on the thick carpet of pine needles, and the slightest rustle of their uniforms as they reluctantly forced themselves forward. Nobody spoke. Nobody wanted to.

It was a grey day, the rain clouds hanging heavy in the sky above them, pressing upon the island aggressively. James knew from the humidity that it wouldn't be long before the sky opened up and with it would come the torrential rains that they were accustomed to at this time of year; the storm James had been expecting.

It had been two days since he had been finally allowed to resurface after his seemingly unending sentence in the detention hall. He could not be certain of how long he had been interned in the darkness. He had lost count of how many trips he had had to make to the hospital to ensure they didn't kill him in the process of trying to force him to divulge his secrets regarding Charlotte. He frowned at the thought. He had stayed as still as he could, holding his body quiet, trying to hold back to yells and screams of pain, the way Charlotte had told him she had survived her detentions. You have to stay lying. I don't move at all anymore. I think it frustrates them more, because it looks like it doesn't hurt. Her words were still so vivid in his mind, her voice so close. He felt that if he only turned around, he would see her standing there in the same sheltered spot he had felt her lips against his, her body pressing close, her soft skin, her tears... He glanced at the spot beneath the pines, where he had made her promise to stop fighting them.

Maybe if we had fought... He shook his head trying to dismiss that thought. He had to believe he had done what was needed, that he had done what was right. He couldn't regret sending her away now, he couldn't doubt his actions. She would have been killed. It didn't bare thinking about.

In any case we couldn't have fought the Academy, he thought bitterly. Elmhirst is under no illusion that fear alone would keep usat bay. He has other ways... He shook his head dismissing his worries about Elmhirst, dismissing what he knew of the island, what he had failed to tell Charlotte. Instead he allowed his mind to return to Charlotte and their moment beneath the pines. It all just seemed like a weird dream now, vivid and clear, but yet so long ago it hardly seemed to matter anymore, and to her it probably didn't. She had a real life now.

"I don't like this," Ethan finally said, glancing around them. The entire school was moving towards the stadium without much explanation. James gritted his teeth, determined to ignore the same sense of dread. "This is going to be about her," he said, glancing at James questioningly, but he just stared straight ahead. Charlotte's name had become a curse. Nobody wanted to be heard saying it for fear they would be accused of knowing where she was. Even James didn't say it anymore. He knew he had to be like the others, act like the others. He couldn't lose the game now.

"Don't mention her," James hissed, not looking at Ethan. Carrie grumbled to himself, but didn't speak loud enough for either of his friends to hear him.

"James, you can't just treat it as if she never existed," Ethan said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "They've done something to her". James didn't look to his best friend, half afraid he would betray his secrets. And yet, he couldn't understand Ethan's conviction in believing they had done this to her. Ethan was designed to see; to see any situation in a compartmentalised way, to be able to draw from it the truth as nobody else could see it. He was designed for military planning and yet now he was misreading the enemy. It was... baffling.