The Resistance - Jenna Marie (reading the story of the TXT) 📗

voice started sleepily from across camp. He climbed to his feet and cracked his neck, the tent flap swinging shut behind him. Neither Daniela nor Jen responded. “Is something wrong?”

Daniela broke her gaze away from the stranger. “Jayden—”

“There’s someone in the forest,” Jen said bluntly. She was looking at Jayden now, too.

“What?” He made his way over to them.

“Right . . .” Daniela gestured in the direction of the outsider. When her eyes located the place in which he stood, all she saw was a dark entrance to the forest. “. . . there.” The man was gone.

“He’s gone?!” Jen gasped.

“Who was it?” Jayden asked.

“How are we supposed to know?” Daniela said.

“Well, what did he look like?”

“Tall, older than us, dark hair,” Jen remembered. “Yellow muscle shirt and he has something strapped to his waist, probably a weapon of some sort.”

“Could you determine what it was?” Jayden asked.

“No. That bush was in the way.”

Jayden sighed. “Of course it was.” His eyes settled on where the man had been. “That’s a good enough description for now. Daniela,” he commanded, “you help me wake everyone. Jen, you stand watch. If you see anything, call me right away.”

“Will do.” she said.

“Oh, and you might want this . . .” he ran back to his tent and pulled a long, black package out from inside and forced it into her hand. “I hope to God you never have to use it.”

Jen unzipped the casing and pulled down on the material to see what was inside, even though she had a pretty good idea of what it may be. A strong wooden handle stuck out on top. She pulled down on the case to reveal the longest blade she had ever seen. Never had she thought she would be standing guard at a campsite with a machete in hand.

Jayden and Daniela hastily made their way around the camp, throwing open tents and shaking the occupants awake. While Jen scanned the edge of the forest she could hear their voices: “Come on, guys, get up. Wake up, someone’s here. There’s a man in the forest, Mesha, you have to wake up.” Jen readjusted her hold on the machete. The blade felt heavy in her hands and she held it away from her at a strange angle that made it clear that she was afraid of it. Discomfort and fear were things an enemy could take advantage of, but Jen couldn’t help but to have a pained expression across her face. Just the thought of striking the blade down upon another being and tearing the life out of him with a flick of her wrist made her stomach ache, even if it would save her own life in the end. She hoped the man was gone so that she’d never have to use the weapon, but it was more likely that he hid away in the brush and watched them from a distance; sizing up the group and preparing to pounce on them like a wild animal hunting its prey.

Jayden called out to her. “Anything yet, Jen?”

“No.”

The group had assembled around the campfire looking tired and disheveled. While Mackenzie struggled to adjust her knot of hair, Jayden stepped up onto one of the logs and cut right to the chase, skipping over the Good morning’s and the I’m sorry we woke you’s. “We’re looking for a man with black hair and a yellow shirt. He was close by only a few minutes ago so he couldn’t have gotten far. Grab something from the pile to use as a weapon and follow my lead.” Everyone immediately went over to the supplies to find a blade, except for Ash who picked up his bow.

 

Jayden pulled a knife from its sheath and considered the members of his little militia. If they had to fight, it would be an Eight vs. One and they’d certainly win.

But what about Jen’s little brother? He’s ten, much too young to take on an adult man. He would have to stay back at camp—Jayden caught himself off guard. What was he thinking? They couldn’t leave camp abandoned: that is exactly what the outsider would want them to do. It must have been his exhaustion overcoming him. He hadn’t slept well that night and he felt like he was in a daze.

He cleaned off his glasses on the hem of his shirt as he walked up to Asher, who was busy filling his quiver with arrows. “Ash,” he said, returning his glasses to his eyes, “I want you to stay here with Brian. We can’t leave the camp abandoned, and he’s too young to come with us. Keep him in a tent, and Kiara and Mesha can help you defend the place.”

“Are you sure you won’t need another set of hands? What if it’s a trap and there are thirty grown men waiting for you in there?”

“We can get out if we have to. We can move faster now that there’ll be four of us, and we’ll all be armed. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Ash positioned his quiver on his back. “I wish you the best of luck.”

Jayden instructed Kiara and Mesha to stay behind, and then gathered Jen, Mackenzie, and Daniela and led them into the forest. “Keep your eyes open,” he said, cutting through the underbrush with a large knife. He had let Jen hold onto the machete.

 

They had walked considerably into the forest without seeing anything that might point them in the direction of the outsider. Jen’s palm was sweating against the handle of her blade so she wiped her hand on her shirt. She wasn’t the only one nervous, she was certain of that. Mackenzie and Daniela had likely never been faced with such a threat before.

The loud snap of a branch breaking to the right sent needles of ice shooting through their veins and to their cores. They stopped and listened intently, all eyes searching the same area while Jen covered their backs.

“Spread out,” Jayden muttered suddenly. They each stepped forward.

Jen headed off to the right of where the sound had come from, carefully walking across the decaying, wet ground. If she lost her footing and slipped she’d probably impale herself on the weapon she carried so cautiously.

A cold breeze dragged its nails over her skin and left goosebumps in its wake. What if the man had perched himself in a tree and patiently waited for her to walk beneath him? With a blade drawn he could land on her back and slit her throat without Jen ever knowing what had happened. She wouldn’t even be able to scream before death settled over her, and no one else would know what happened to her, either.

In the darkness the summer green leaves were almost indiscernible from the fall reds and browns that had emerged only recently but already coated the forest. The wind rustled the dying leaves above her and tossed her hair around. A storm was coming and it was settling quickly over the area.

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The wind was so loud that it was impossible to hear more than the crunch of her own footsteps and the anxious pounding of her heart.

Then the wind ceased. It had happened so abruptly it was as though a window was closed on the world. She stopped moving and listened intently to her surroundings, becoming so engrossed and concentrated that she closed her eyes. A second later she jolted herself out of her trance. Not being able to see the enemy could mean the difference between life and death.

Inhale, exhale. The forest smelled of wet wood and rain, and the smell sent a flood of reassurance over her. The tension in her shoulders and back was released. Maybe the man was gone. She took a step forward.

A scream pierced the air and reverberated off the trees. Who was that? Where did it come from? She glanced around nervously. Had it been her own scream? Was she being attacked and hadn’t realized yet, or was she already dead? Air pumped into and out of her lungs. No, she wasn’t hurt. But if it wasn’t her, then who was? It clearly hadn’t been Jayden and it certainly didn’t sound like Mackenzie. It must have been Daniela.

“Daniela?” Jen called out. Her voice shook. “Daniela?!”

Another scream answered from somewhere to her left. “Daniela!” she yelled, hurrying toward the sound but careful enough not to trip and hurt herself. In the distance she could hear Jayden shout, “Daniela! Where are you?”

“Over here!” Daniela screeched. Her voice was abruptly choked off.

Jen rounded a wide tree and there, right there in front of her, was the man in the yellow shirt. He had pinned Daniela up against a tree and wrapped a filthy hand around her throat. His other hand held a knife close to her face.

Jen’s legs had rooted themselves in place. She wanted to help, she wanted to free Daniela and run far away. But another part of her wanted to melt into the forest floor and disappear. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her heart and relax her muscles but nothing she did seemed to work. She wiped her hands on her shirt again.

Daniela’s eyes were fastened to her over the man’s shoulder. From that distance, it was too dark in the forest to see the tears that streaked her face, but the stranger could see them perfectly well. Once he noticed she was no longer looking in terror at him and rather at something off behind him, he spun around; his left hand holding her pinned to the tree with the knife still secured in his fist. His cold stare landed on Jen, and then flicked down to the long blade in her hands. A wicked smile crossed his face, crinkling the mats of dirt that had been caked onto his skin. Although he exerted very little effort, he pushed Daniela to the ground with such force that all of the wind was knocked out of her. And like a panther stalking its prey, he drifted toward Jen.

Jen held her ground, adjusting her hold on the blade and taking a deep breath. Already she could feel her traction-less Converse sneakers sliding on the wet ground. The promise of winning the machete would be the end of her. There was no doubt. The fear in her eyes could be read like words on a page, and the man fed off it like a vampire feeds on blood. He was close to her now, he could almost see the tension in her muscles; before she could react and swing the blade out from her side, stars erupted across her vision and she crumpled to the ground.

“Jen!” Daniela croaked between coughs, struggling to regain her breath.

The machete skidded off to the side when she hit the ground but Jen was too afraid to take her eyes off the man to look for it. With a blind hand she clawed at the ground in search of the thing, hoping not to cut herself on the blade. And just as her fingers brushed the handle, she was pulled up onto her feet and thrown to the side.

The world was spinning and spinning and it seemed it would never stop until her back slammed into a tree. There was dirt on her face and leaves in her hair that poked into her scalp. Just a few feet away were two black boots. Would this be the end? After joining this group specifically to stay safe, would she be killed in cold blood?

Slowly the man lifted his prize from the ground, his eyes hungry to see what damage the weapon could do. With a sideways grin he approached Jen and gently he used the end of the blade to push her long hair off her chest.

“Please!” The word had escaped Jen’s lips without her permission and the instant it was out, she implored it to come back. I don’t want to die.

The man lifted the