CROSS MY HEART // dystopian romance

11. the more the merrier

I've read a lot of books on psychology. I've watched a lot of true crime documentaries. I always thought I'd end up studying killers, but I would have never guessed that I'd eventually become one.

That's what I think about, when my drifts off as we're walking on the empty side roads. I'm walking behind the four of them. Turner is leading the way, as far away from me as possible.

"So," Mihan stops behind to walk along side me, "watcha got in Salt Lake City ?"

"Nothing."

"I ain't stupid, Heart-Slayer." he rolls his eyes at me. "Everyone saw it. You've got someone there, right ?"

"Maybe."

"Wanna talk about it ?" he asks, his black luscious hair bouncing around as he jumps besides me.

"No."

"Althea can't wait to see Violet there. It's her girlfriend."

"She's in Salt Lake City ?" I ask, genuinely curious. Anything that involves informations about that city, I'm curious about.

"She was when the plague started. The Falling, I mean." he shrugs. "She was visiting her grandparents. Ever since we learned the city's untouched, Althea's been real hopeful."

"That's good. To have something to hold on to." I judge it too delicate to ask about their parents and what happened to them.

"Yeah." he brushes off the subject. "I've been thinking of different names for our team."

"Our team ?" I repeat, frowning.

"Yeah. Like... The Wanderers or something."

I don't have time to reply to that, because Turner shouts something to us.

"We're gonna stop by the next small town. Collect what we can."

"You heard the man." Mihan says, quickening his pace to get back to his sister.

"Man ?" I scoff under my breath. "The term is far too generous."

"Alright." Turner says as we arrive in the main town square. "Let's wander around for half an hour, then meet back here. Take everything that seems useful."

"I'm gonna get a new blade." I inform them, after noticing an old antiques shop at the end of the street.

"With any luck, she'll trip on it." Turner sighs as I walk in the opposite direction, toward the shop. I show him my middle finger without turning back in response.

In the antiques shop, I find myself awestruck. Ever since the plague —or the Falling, as they call it— I've discovered I'm quite good with sharp objects. My interest only grew stronger when I swore off guns. I made sure to practice every day for two and a half years, because I just had to be perfect enough to not need guns. Ever since, I've taken a liking to it. To being skilled, not to killing.

The shop is filled with artefacts and old weapons. I trace the dust on the shelves with the tip of my fingers, as I search the room for useful tools. I see a carved bow and some arrows, and I don't know why, but I think it would be great for Althea to use. It's silent, fast, effective. I also put one or two slingshots in my bag, in case Mihan breaks his.

My gaze falls on a shelf with a dozen daggers. The most beautiful blades I've ever laid eyes upon. The handles are all prettier than ever, made of jade, ceramic, iron or silver. Some daggers are short and thin, easy to hide in my hair or boots. I shove them in my bag. There are average daggers too, which I also take. Others are large and long, about the size of my forearm, like tiny swords. I take them all.

Suddenly, the entry door bells ring, indicating that someone is coming into the shop. Startled, I turn around in a matter of seconds, and throw the dagger I had in my hand toward the sound.

My target gets down right in time, and escapes the doom of my blade. I realize : it's Turner. He gasps, shocked and wide-eyed.

"Are you fucking mental ?!" he yells, panting. "You could've killed me !"

I don't want to apologize. After all, it's payback for almost selling me to weird ass men and their gang mania.

"Better luck next time." I shrug, with a humorless smile.

"You're bloody mad !" he pulls my dagger out from the wall where it planted itself.

"You wanted me to trip on it, right ?" I raise my eyebrows in defiance. "Well, I wanted you to get a taste of it. Now we're even."

He walks up to me furious, and grabs my right arm so firmly it makes me wince. He holds the pointy end of the blade to my chin.

"Don't fuck with me, Warden." he stares at my face intensely.

"Or what ?" I retort.

He analyzes my face, and surprisingly he's at a loss of words. He's ready to say something, but I can't quite predict what he's about to say.

Before I can find out, the entry bell interrupts the situation and gives us both a jump-scare. He drops the dagger, which I catch in a fast reflex before it falls to the ground.

"If I catch the two of you trying to kill each other one...last...time..." Althea speaks. "I swear to god, I'll make you wish you were dead."

Turner lets go of my arm, and exhales loudly in frustration. Althea signs for him to get out, and he does after looking back at me with the darkest eyes.

"I don't care about your ego, or your trust issues, or whatever it is that you have." Althea scolds me. "We all have our own shit to deal with. So you and Turner, you better sort it out. Salt Lake City is more important than your stupid grudges."

I walk out of the shop, and when I pass next to her, I give her the bow and arrows I've found for her.

"If he fucking tests my limits, shoot me with this." I say, leaving to get back to the meeting spot. "You'd be doing me a favor."

Well, this is going to be a nice, friendly little trip to the big city. All smiles and rainbows. And Dead-Alives.