Chapter Two
Emilyn could only watch in horror as the girl slumped to the floor, unconscious. Several long, frozen seconds passed before anyone moved. Emilyn was the first to break the spell. He leaped from his desk and knelt at the girl’s side, checking for a heartbeat. “Alive,” he managed at last, voice ragged with fear. “But she’s sick. Very sick.”
Ms. David put a hand to her mouth. “Is it…”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” The students gaped at him.
Ms. David turned to her class. “Everyone, back to your desks,” she said crisply. “Turn to page twenty-five in your history textbooks and begin reading the chapter.” Only her shaking hands betrayed her nervousness.
The students filed back to their seat and opened their books, but no one was reading.
Ms. David turned back to Emilyn. “She can’t stay here,” she whispered. “You know what will happen. It’s too dangerous.” Emilyn nodded. “But where…?” Ms. David shook her head, starting to back away.
“I don’t…” She faltered, and Emilyn could see the fear in her pale blue eyes. She grabbed his hand suddenly, squeezing it hard. “Away. Take her away; far away. Don’t let them catch her. Promise me.” Emilyn remembered suddenly. Ms. David had a sister, a pretty girl with hair like pale gold, only thirteen or fourteen. She had become sick two winters ago, and disappeared suddenly one day.
“They will find her,” breathed Ms. David. “But perhaps…” He knew what she was going to say.
“The mountains.”
Ms. David nodded. “Yes, the mountains. Head for the mountains. Stay safe.” She took another step back, then turned and fled, back towards the front of the classroom and her desk.
“I promise,” Emilyn whispered after her.
He lifted the girl in his arms. She was so light it scared him; like a fragile baby bird. And so beautiful…
The minute Emilyn stepped outside the open classroom door, pulling it shut behind him; he realized how stupid he’d been. The wind howled around him, cutting straight through his thin jacket. He glanced down at the girl’s clothes and frowned. A short dark grey skirt and a collared white shirt. Where did she come from, where the winters were so mild they didn’t wear coats?
“I’m one to talk,” he muttered, glancing down at his patched trousers and windbreaker. With a sigh, Emilyn trudged out into the night.
By the time he reached the town, his lips were blue and his hands numb. The normally relaxing half-mile walk to and from school had turned into a dangerous trek. Snow had begun to fall; tiny, icy flakes that clung to Emilyn’s skin and clothes. After the first quarter-mile, Emilyn had stopped pretending that the girl’s lips were supposed to be that color, and that her skin was always this pale. He started to run.
Emilyn stumbled into the town square, barely able to keep on his feet. His thought ran together WherecanIgoit’snotsafeherethey’llkillhersheneedshelpIneedhelpIhavetosaveher. I promised. He whispered the words aloud “I promised.” Then he turned and ran, staggering over broken cobblestones and ducking through dark alleys whenever he could.
The enormous, dilapidated building loomed out of the darkness so suddenly Emilyn almost ran smack into it. He stared up at the pale stone walls and crumbling bell tower. A wave of exhaustion washed over him as Emilyn’s legs folded beneath him. He sank to the ground, unable to walk any farther. Vision blurring, Emilyn gazed down at the girl.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, and then everything went black.Sincerely,
A Writer
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