The Intruders

Chapter Fifteen

THAT NIGHT I used the stove to set a candle on fire. I went into the bathroom and locked the door. I made sure Veronica was asleep, and I set each and every document on fire. I turned the shower on to snuff out the flames when the paper was destroyed and any ashes left I flushed down the toilet.

The only file I kept a hold of was Dorian Blanchard's and I stuffed it underneath the mattress. I lay awake that night as the rain hit the window of the Resistance building, not getting one wink of sleep. All I could think about was the file under my bed, the smell of smoke from the bathroom and the cool metal in between my fingertips.

The next morning Veronica wishes for me to once again train with Natalie and José, but I sit a butter knife on one side of me, the throwing knife in between my fingertips.

I have more questions to ask, more answers to have and more duties to complete while I'm in these city wards.

I squeeze the handle of the knife, taking a deep breath and holding it over my thigh.

Three.

Two.

One.

I ram the knife into my thigh, groaning and biting on the sock in between my teeth. The metal is so smooth It has no problem gliding into my flesh. I see the crimson through the grey, and I quickly, pull the knife out (don't try this at home) and replace it with the butter knife, wiping the knife on my already bloodied joggers and hands and slipping it underneath my pillow.

I take the sock out of my mouth and give my best performance and most semi-dramatic scream. I hear her shoes against the floor as I feel the blood start to run down my thigh.

"What happened?" Veronica's face appears in the doorway, and I sit with my hand grabbed onto my leg. "Oh my god." Her face drops as she spots my leg.

"I ran into a butter knife." I explain.

"A butter knife?" She asks, not believing my words.

"They're bloody sharp." I groan.

"Stay here!" She demands, rushing off. I bite the back of my palm. Why did I decide to stab my bloody thigh? Why not my hand, or my arm?

She comes back with a towel, which she presses against my leg, surrounding the butter knife.

"Keep the pressure on, a capturer will be here soon." She says.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"Hospital." She replies; success.

***

Veronica stays behind as her driver and a capturer escort me to the hospital. I notice the gun on the capturer's belt. I know what I have to do.

We arrive with speed, and the capturer walks round to open my door. This is going to hurt and is going to get me in a lot of trouble, but I need to do this, I need to make sure I get seen by Elizabeth Sterling and nobody else.

I have my hand on the butter knife, and as the door opens, I pull the knife out, groaning as I do, and I stab it into the neck of the capturer. His blood sprays onto my face as he sinks to the floor. I pull the knife out, dropping it to the floor.

The blood is pouring out my leg at this point, and I decide maybe that wasn't my smartest idea.

My eyes catch those of the scared driver as he stares in this mirror at me.

"He looked at me wrong." I say, wiping my sleeve over my face. I shuffle myself out of the car, grabbing the gun off the capturer's belt, and I stagger, one hand on my leg, one hand on the gun to the hospital entrance.