Hunted

Fifty-Seven: Necessary Decisions

Charlotte's first view of the real world had been the extraordinary sight of an illuminated city rising high out of the water. Towering buildings had stretched greedily towards the night sky, masking the stars with an eerie orange glow. That was when Matt had first taken her away from Kingston. Yet the real world she was now faced with was different. It was stark and dreary. Grey and brown hills rose from the waves, void of vegetation or any sign of habitation whatsoever. The sea wind whistled among the rocks, only the ships engine drowning out its mournful cry.

Charlotte pushed her hands deeper into the pockets of her heavy coat, its padding thick and its hood fur-lined. Her breath rose in a cloud before her and her nose stung from the icy sea air. A lone gull circled overheard, its screech lost as it battled against the wind. A few stray snowflakes drifted down towards the sea and sparsely sprinkled the barren land in the distance. The ship rose and fell sharply, but Charlotte was unaffected by its movements, her body built to withstand such discomforts.

It had been almost a week since they had left the island – nearly two since Iseult had died and since James had killed Elmhirst. It had been almost two weeks since they had finally won, yet somehow it felt like they had lost.

And in many ways they had. They had lost too many friends, too many good soldiers. They had lost too much time, too much of their lives on the island. It had taken so much of a life that had been rightfully theirs. They had lost their homes, their families, and still they were meant to feel victorious.

Iseult was only one of those to not make it from the island. Harry Thornton and Ebiere Kano had been killed, while Lucio Anderson had never made it from the tunnel after his attack against Charlotte and James. Eli Miller and Jun Lin had died during the fighting, along with Genevieve and Noah Blake. Many from the younger years too had perished, as well as a great many of the Forgotten. Rosy had thankfully made it away, but Evie had never been located when they had managed to quash the remaining resistance. The staff had taken the biggest loss, with only Old Dalton and ruddy-faced Beasley captured by the end of it. By some stroke of luck, Freya Baak had survived Elmhirst's torment and had been brought around, though her strength was not back to where it should have been.

Charlotte sighed, burying her face behind the thick scarf she had wrapped around her neck. She gazed absentmindedly at the bleak coastline they were following north, hugging its shade, while expertly avoiding its pitfalls and dangers.

"Charlotte?" Charlotte turned around to see Ethan Jansen watching her from a few steps away, wrapped up in a thick, black coat and a woollen hat.

"Ethan," she nodded, feeling suddenly guilty. "How are you?" She hadn't spoken to him since the island. She had barely spoken to anybody since the island.

"I've been better," he shrugged, moving beside her and leaning on the ship's railing. His electric blue eyes focused beyond her, searching the coastline for a moment, before returning to her. His expression was drawn, his mouth set in a serious line. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," she shrugged, trying not to overthink her response. "Living in a weird bubble at the moment".

"Yeah – I haven't seen you around that much," he nodded.

"I've been hiding I guess," she sighed reluctantly. "Too many conversations I'm not ready to have".

Ethan was quiet for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek distractedly as he stared out across the grey waves. "And Ian – he seems... subdued," he said slowly.

"Pretty much," she replied. "He's finding it hard. There was only the three of us – he has lost a lot this year. People just seem to think it doesn't affect him... but he's more sensitive than he lets on".