Free Kin (Annabelle's Story Part Two) by Leigh Michael Page B

away.
    I immediately threw myself at it, dropping to my knees.
    I knew I had to be careful as I pulled it from the dirt as not to disrupt the roots, but I also needed to be fast. I felt the heat of Clemente’s eyes on me as I worked. With the coast clear, Shamus turned to watch as well from his position across the clearing.
    That was when it happened.
    I heard it first.
    A deep groan cut through the dense air. It was filled with agony, primal fear, and pain.
    My attention snapped toward the sound, a paralyzing fear that grew along with the bloodstain that filled the front of Shamus’ shirt.
    My mind went blank, the feeling of dread becoming the only emotion I mustered. I stared at the face of the boy who decided time and time again to risk his life for this prophecy, for me. But each step of the way, the Trackers outnumbered, even outsmarted, us.
    In a heartbeat, the paleness of his face spread to his chest, then hands, before he slumped to his knees. In the space he once consumed, another man stood.
    The Tracker’s face was pure evil.
    His darkened hair, skin, and eyes bore into my soul as he smiled from ear to ear. And not a happy smile—a sinister sneer.
    Finally, sound built in my stomach, rose into my throat, and escaped through my mouth disguised as a blood-curdling scream.
    In reality, Shamus’ death took all of a second. The Tracker ripped his sword coldly from Shamus’ back before he displayed any type of reaction. Just as fast, Clemente pulled his sword and readied himself in a stance to attack.
    I don't know how, but the scowl across Clemente’s face looked more evil than the Tracker’s own expression. The difference was that it wasn’t simply evilness that lurked in the lines and creases of my friend’s face, there was a vengeful nature prowling there as well.
    With a growl, he leapt toward the Tracker and met blade to blade. The sound of steel against steel sent a chill throughout my body with each repeated clang.
    The sounds awakened my mind as I distanced myself, shuffling on my backside. With Shamus’ final breath imprinted forever in my memory, I had to get away from what I witnessed seconds ago.
    The clashing noises, grunting sounds, and heavy footsteps in front of me muddied the words spoken from behind me. “There you are little girl.”
    Whirling my head around, I met another face with another sinister smile.
    His presence caused me to scramble to my feet. My arms lurched out to the side to balance myself, to create a center of gravity. Without this motion, standing on my own would’ve been impossible.
    The movement also pulled the Tracker’s attention to the flower in my outstretched hand. I rectified the situation, shoving the flower down the front of my bodysuit.
    “Oh, that won’t stop me. Although, I’m sure it’ll make retrieving the flower more fun,” he hissed, his voice dispensing coldness.
    As he continued in a low voice, I knew without any hesitation the Tracker meant to hurt me. His words dripped with hostility. “Thanks for doing all the heavy lifting, but we'll take it from here.”
    I needed help. I was too afraid to take my eyes off of the Tracker for even a split second to look to Clemente. Instead, I called his name. My voice dripped with something else—desperation.
    “Run!” he screamed back, followed by the sound of a swiping sword.
    The Tracker sneered. “Yes, run away. I’ve always enjoyed a game of cat and mouse."
    My vision frantically rocked from side to side for a way to escape, my feet fumbling to find a path to safety. I was on my own. Like a mirror, the other Tracker matched me step for step as I moved.
    “Having fun yet?” he chided. “Cause I am. Blake told us you were a fun girl.”
    Hearing Blake’s name sent a wave of fury throughout my body. It boiled my blood, transforming the coldness I felt inside to heat. I wasn’t going to take any more shit from the Trackers. Shamus was dead. My friends and I had gone through enough.
    I reached deep