Hunted

Fifty-Four: More Promises

Charlotte fled from James, half-doubting her own resolve to leave him. She ignored the rising panic at being separated from him, forcing herself to trust that he would be careful. She took a deep breath, wanting to look back, knowing he was watching her run to Matt, but if she did look back she feared she wouldn't be able to keep going.

Instead she focused on the idea of seeing Matt again. Knowing he was alive and safe was enough to pull her from the fight, from James, even from hunting Elmhirst. She also knew that he was more at risk of being killed than any other person on the island. She was the only one who wanted to protect him. Elmhirst would want him dead for his treachery, while the rebelling students saw him as one of Elmhirst's men. If anybody found him, they would certainly kill him. She needed to warn him, protect him.

The thought spurred her on as she sprinted through the eerily silent forest, hopping over exposed roots and ignoring the branches that grabbed at her clothes and scratched her skin. She could see the faintest shadow of the plane pass over the ground before her, obscuring the grey light that was seeping back into the world. Twigs cracked beneath her feet, her breath scraped through her throat, and each step sent a ripple of pain through her, radiating from the wound in her leg. Yet none of it mattered at that moment.

Charlotte forced herself to pick up speed, as the plane lowered and dipped beyond the towering walls of the stadium, the grey concrete emerging unexpectedly from the darkness of the forest. The great hangar doors that led straight into the stadium were still ajar following the students' mass exodus the day before. She could hear the hum of the engine echoing around the space, magnifying its sound.

Charlotte hurried along the short tunnel out onto the white sand that had set the scene for her planned execution. The stadium was scarred from the fighting that had begun there, burn marks staining the seats in the stands. An acrid smell of smoke hung in the air, sour and overwhelming.

A cloud of white sand obscured the plane and the pitch, as the craft landed using the long space as a runway. Charlotte scrambled forwards not bothering to allow the dust to settle.

The sound of the engine cut out, the stadium suddenly silent and eerie. Charlotte stilled, wary of what lay ahead of her. She knew Matt was there but, he was not the only person she sensed in the craft. She moved forward cautiously, her stomach somersaulting nervously as she watched the plane.

Finally the door opened with a heavy clunk and a series of steps emerged, sinking into the soft ground.

Charlotte stopped moving, her breathing shallow. Nobody moved from the plane, heightening her unease. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her shaking hands and the panic rising in her chest. She counted to three in her head, inhaling and exhaling slowly, trying to quell the fear that gripped her. She opened her eyes, balling her hands into fists.

She found his dark gaze immediately. He stood watching her on the steps of the plane, his brows furrowed and his mouth set in a thin line. To her relief he seemed unharmed, the same Matt she had always known.

She walked towards him, relieved tears carving a path down her cheeks. Matt stepped down from the plane, his expression somehow pained. She reached towards him, pulling herself against him, pressing her face into his chest, the sudden realisation and confirmation that he was alive overwhelming her.

He held her close, his arms tightening around her, his lips against her hair. There was relief in his grip, his entire body tense, the fear that had gripped him fading.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pushing her back so he could search her face. His expression was dark, concern etched in every muscle. Tears glistened in his eyes, but he did not allow them to fall.