The Dark Days - Chapter Three

Chapter Three

"Holly!" I scream, running out into the cold wind. The bitter blows to my head make it dizzy for me to stand upright. Through the pouring buckets of rain, all I can see is a black veil of hopelessness. Holly screams again, and I run faster.
Feet pounding on the streets, sloshing through more water than air, I finally locate Holly. She's flat out on her back, a Peacekeeper hovering over her, gun in hand. I slow down, not wanting the Peacekeeper to hear me.
Some Peacekeepers. They don't keep the peace. They keep the violence.
Amy's caught up with me now. I wasn't exactly hard to follow, even in the loud claps of thunder. Amy touches my shoulder, but I wave her off with a finger pressed to my mouth.
"On the count of three," I breathe in to her ear. I nod at the Peacekeeper. Amy nods back. She understands.
"One," I murmur. I can hear the Peacekeeper yelling at Holly, but I can't focus on that now.
"Two," Amy whispers. Her sodden hair is whipping freely across my face, but I don't care.
"Three," we say together, and charge at the Peacekeeper.
He doesn't hear us coming in the cold night wind, and he's not exactly big. We tackle him, piling onto the pavement, limb over limb. He screams, and I stop.
I know that voice, too.
"Sage Newheart?" I ask quietly, struggling to contain my shock. Sage Newheart, out in the rain. My chances are getting good. "I... but... I'm sorry, I thought you were a Peacekeeper!"
"Why would a Peacekeeper attack Holly Millson?" Sage asks angrily, rubbing a ferocious burn on his arm caused by the friction between gravel and skin. The cold water helps, but he's still wincing.
"I don't know," Amy says sarcastically. "Maybe she was shouting about a rebellion?"
Even here, in the dark, I can see Sage's bright green eyes flicker with excitement. "Rebellion?" he asks in a hushed tone. "I... I... why didn't I hear of this?" His face melts into an unreadable blank sheet of paper.
"Because the first idea only started tonight," I reply, pulling him to my feet. "Sage, will you join the rebellion?"
"I'd sacrifice myself for it," he replies. "Ever since they killed Mother..." His eyes flash off to the distant past, back when his mother was still alive and well. "You're Aryn Rosalina."
"Yes," I say, gratified that he actually pronounced my last name right. Hardly anyone does on the first try. But how does he know my name?
"I'm Amy," says my sister, holding out her hand. Sage doesn't take it, but nods at her. By the look on her face, I think Amy's convinced that we should actually try. Sage might be a kid, too, but he seems so strong and... superior. He makes us think that we actually have a chance.
Then I hear Holly whimpering, and I gasp. How could I forget about my best friend, even though she just left me a couple of minutes ago? I can't see any blood on the ground, but it's probably washed away by the thundering rain.
But it's starting to end. The rain falls in light, shimmery drops of water as the pale moon shows. Sparkles dance off water. If there is one time to get Holly out of here, it's now.
Sage takes her back without question. Amy takes her legs, I take her middle portion of the body. Whatever happened to her is unknown, and I'm desperate to find out.
"Sage," I say. "Why were you yelling at Holly?"
He looks down. "She was crying and cursing things I couldn't hear. Right outside my front door, she collapsed and began screaming. I headed out."
"What were you yelling to her about?" Amy asks softly. Holly gives a grunt as she hears Amy's voice.
"I wanted her to talk to me... I was afraid that she was going to... to die. I already saw my mother dead, and I don't want an innocent girl dying, either," he replies, voice full of sorrow.
"Oh," I say. I look down at Holly's torn and fragile body, her rain-sodden clothes, and wish that I hadn't.
Right across Holly's left arm is a very nasty cut, no, more of a hole, blood slowly pouring from it. I give a grunt of disgust and look away, hoping that Amy wouldn't look.
Of course, that's too much to hope for. She stares down at the gaping wound and gives out a cough of surprise.
"B...But..." she stammers. "But the only thing that can make that kind of wound is a gun!" she cries.
The three of us look at each other, and the realization dawns upon us.
There's only one kind of person in District Eleven who can use the gun freely.
Peacekeepers.



Dun dun dun.....