Short Story Time! (Part 3)

Check out parts 1 and 2 here and here

The Dealers of Justice/The Procession

annnd I thought of another title option: And so They Proceeded

part 3

In the forest, the system was not so easily enforced. Bandits and cults still roamed, exacting grief upon those unlucky enough to cross their paths. And so they left in the moist of dawn the next day.

Holding the map, Three leaned close to Five and whispered that they had a choice: skirt around the circumference of the woods or cut through. He didn’t feel the need to elaborate on the consequences of either.

Five had a funny look to his face as he turned his face forward. “The faster route,” he said.

Because Five’s decisions were usually not easily doubted, Three hesitated before speaking. “The faster route—”

“The faster route,” he said before walking ahead.

Later, One caught up to Three and said, “Do you think he’s in a mood?”

Three studied the slight but straight line of Five’s back as it cut through the woods in front of them. “Not a mood. Something else.”

One nodded. “The girl.”

“The girl” had been awake at their departure, and Three had wondered if she’d slept at all. Her footsteps fell soft behind them, but not as softly as yesterday.

“What about the girl?” he asked.

One blinked. “Don’t you feel it?” He started to open his mouth, then shut it. “Forget it.”

It was none too difficult a task, and before long Three had completely retracted into his thoughts. He didn’t need to consult the map to know where they were; it was a gift of his to know everyone’s exact location. And yet strangely, he frequently didn’t know where he was. Now he could only see the moss beneath his feet and the dense stalks of foliage and trunk before his eyes. All around him, the silence of the dead leaves crowded into his mind.  

So when the shots rang out all around them, Three only barely heard before the fire burst through his gut. He felt himself sway, lose his balance. Someone whom he thought to be Four caught him under the arm as he fell. From the periphery he saw the lithe blur that was Five hurtle toward Two and the girl. The distinctive pops of Five’s rifle, joined by One’s, punctuated the cacophony. Gradually, the noise diminished until the dead leaves, trembling, hung in silence once more.

Three’s hand moved by its own accord to his stomach, where fabric slick to the touch met his fingers. In his daze, he realized he was going to die. He felt it, a warm truth in his veins. It stained his hands and seeped into the ground.

He sensed the presence of Five at his side. “Bandages,” the boy spoke calmly, but one disadvantage of knowing Five so well was also knowing that he was most calm when most scared.

Someone left his side to fetch them as another crouched down.

“I can help.” The newcomer’s voice held a different quality from the rest.

“That won’t be necessary,” Five said coldly.

“Why don’t you let her?” shouted One—Three guessed it was One because only One ever shouted. “Do you want to watch him die?”

Five didn’t answer.

“Calm yourself,” said Four said, presumably to One.

“Well, do you?”

            “He’s not going to die,” said the strange voice again.

It was the girl, Three discerned. Somehow, she was making Five act strangely. Whatever One had suggested…

“He’s not going to die,” she was saying, “but you have to trust me.”

“Step aside,” Four said quietly.

At last, Five did.

She worked deftly, hands flying over him, instructing the others, except for Five, who had disappeared, on what to do. At one point Three felt his mind sigh and loosen its strangling latch on his thoughts. His thoughts, freed, floated white and amorphous from his parted mouth. They curled before his closed eyes, familiar specters, thinning, disappearing. With his thoughts, Three felt as if he might disappear, too.

But when he opened his eyes, he saw her. It was the brown of her hair, the arch of her brows, those images cruel and forbidden that hooked onto the collar of his shirt and yanked him out of the white lake right before it flooded over his nose.

His throat struggled to choke out the syllable. “Di…”

“What’s he saying?”

“He’s delirious.”

“He’s okay,” said the girl. “The worst is over.”

They continued to bustle around him after that, placing cold things, hot things on his skin, moving him about. All the while, he saw black. Except for when the sun set. Then, his eyelids bled.

At night, when the others had finally given to exhaustion and Three himself was battling the fire that still writhed in his gut, Five returned to his side. He was whispering something too hushed for Three to make out at first, but soon the words became clear.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Five was saying over and over again in his ear. “I should have listened to you. I should have taken us on the longer route.”

Why didn’t you Three imagined himself asking.

But as Five repeated the words, Three picked up on a pain in his voice too raw to be concern over a peer’s well being.

In an uncharacteristic slip of heart, Five took Three’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“You know what One keeps on saying?” he asked, obviously not expecting a reply. Three wished he could.

“Do you think the girl…” He trailed off. After a long moment: “Never mind. Hang in. We’re almost there.”

The last few words sounded too strained to be comforting. Five squeezed Three’s hand again, this time a little too tightly. 

Thanks for reading! The last part will be posted tomorrow! Once again, let me know of your thoughts/comments.