Unbind me

chapter 15

I let the conversation fade into the background, my mind slipping away as I stare out the window. The sky is a deep, endless black, dotted with only a handful of stars—distant, flickering reminders that there's something bigger than this, bigger than the fear clawing at the edges of my thoughts. The road stretches ahead of us, empty and unbroken, swallowed by the dark.

The silence outside feels heavier than the one inside the car. Like the world is holding its breath, waiting.

I watch the faint reflections of streetlights gliding across the glass, smudged and distorted by the dirt coating the windows. The roads we pass are lifeless, abandoned, the skeletal remains of a world that used to be loud and full. The ghosts of what once was linger in the broken windows, in the hollowed-out buildings standing like forgotten tombstones.

For a moment, I imagine a different version of this world—one where these streets aren't empty, where the lights still shine bright, where laughter echoes through the night instead of gunfire. But the thought is fleeting. Unrealistic.

That world doesn't exist anymore.

I pull my jacket tighter around me, shifting slightly in my seat, careful not to wake James. His small frame is warm against mine, his breathing steady despite the tension pressing down on all of us.

Kenji says something, but I don't register it. My thoughts are too tangled, too caught up in the quiet unraveling inside of me.

I keep my eyes on the stars, counting them. One, two, three... as if somehow, the number will be enough to ground me.

My eyelids grow heavy. The hum of the engine, the rhythmic bumps of the road, the distant murmur of voices—it all lulls me into a haze, dragging me toward sleep.

But I can't.

Not again.

The memory of my last nightmare still clings to me, wrapping around my ribs like a vice. The feeling of cold hands, the sound of distant screams, the sharp sting of something I can't name—it was too real. Too vivid.

I force my eyes open, shifting in my seat, blinking hard to stay present. The exhaustion presses down on me like a weight, but I refuse to give in.

I glance at Kenji. He's focused on the road, one hand gripping the wheel, his jaw tight, eyes flickering to the rearview mirror every few seconds. He's alert. Watching. Making sure no one's following us.

Juliette sits stiffly in the backseat next to Adam, her hands still clenched in her lap, the blood on them darkening, drying into something permanent. She hasn't spoken in a while. Neither has Adam.

James stirs slightly against me, curling in closer, his tiny fingers gripping my sleeve. His breathing is soft, even.

I envy him.

I try to count the stars again, but my vision blurs. My body is begging for rest, my mind fighting against it.

I swallow hard.

I can't sleep.

Not yet.

The stars blur together, and despite my best efforts, my mind pulls me back—back into the nightmare I swore I wouldn't relive.

"Where is she?"

A voice—cold, sharp—echoes through the darkness.

"We know she's here."

Footsteps. Heavy. Deliberate. The sound of boots crushing dirt, kicking aside debris. The metallic click of a gun being loaded.

"You think you can hide her from us?"