Young Writers Society

Reed stalked through the trees, heading towards the source of the noise. He paused, when he caught sight of something- a skirt, sticking out from behind a tree.

Reed grinned.

On silent feet he approached, and then grabbed Evaline, pulling her into a headlock and holding the gun against her head.

“Wishing you listened to me earlier, now, aren’t you?” he hissed into her ear.

Roughly, with his arm locked around her throat, he started to drag her towards Butch, who was still standing with one foot on James.

“What do you think, Butch?” he called out. “You think anyone will miss this one?”

Butch laughed, and then the laughter quickly died.

“No.”

James stopped breathing, and Reed pulled the trigger.

Evaline had failed.

She had failed to save James. She had failed to save herself. She was too weak. She was too indecisive.

She didn't think ahead, and this was was her punishment.

Evaline tried to turn her head to look at James, to give him a desperate 'I am sorry' look, but it was no use. His eyes were not open.

Uncontrollable tears streamed down her face without her blinking. She knew what will happen. She had been in scenarios like this, looking in from the outside. But she had never been involved in anything quite like this. She had never been a direct consequence of death from another person.

Terror had truly started to kick in. Time seemed to slow down, like she was reliving her last moments.

"You think anyone will miss this one?" Reed said to the giant man named Butch, but the words sounded slow and garbled up, like they were underwater. Echoing in the vast ocean. A vast, bright, white ocean that Evaline fell into.

"No," Butch responded, but it sounded relaxed, comfortably swallowed up by the sea of white, lost in thought, like a hushed vanishing whisper.

There was a loud bang that Evaline recognized to be a gunshot, but it was slow, oh so slow, taking its time to finish, spread across several seconds as the noise echoed against the thick white.

Evaline tried to reach out in the midst of the sea, but she couldn't stop thinking about guns, about Wild Wild West, about the book she read as a kid for pleasure that she found herself in right now, and suddenly, a vision flashed before her eyes.

"I know it's hard," a boy's voice said, sounding garbled at first, but slowly steadied itself. "But you do have a choice. It may not seem like it, but only you can make these kinds of decisions."

The picture came into view, but it was blurry and dark. A younger version of herself was in the library, crouching and crying against the bookshelves while a young boy tried to comfort her. His face was concealed.

"Maybe it will help if I call you something else," he said.

She sniffed, wiping away the stray tears that left her eyes. "Like what?" she asked, voice quivering before she gave him a hardened teary look. "Don't you dare say Ev. You know I don't like it when Elias calls me that."

The boy laughed -- a gentle, warm laugh. "No. Of course not." He looked out in the distance with her before smiling and turning to her. "How about Eve? It's fitting."

Evaline sniffed a few times, although it looked like she stopped the last of tears from coming. "Eve?" she repeated, not sure she followed.

"Eve," he repeated, more confident this time. "A word describing a time before an important event. I think it fits you."

"Eve," she said out loud, losing her uncertainty. "I suppose I don't hate it."

Everything suddenly went dark, like someone had unplugged a screen.

And then she rewinded.

Back to hiding behind the tree.
Back to running in the forest.
Back to riding on Elliot.
Back to holding on to James on Elliot.
Back to hearing the first howl.
Back to sharing an embrace with James.
Back to having her nervous breakdown.
Back to explaining the note.
Back to leaving the town.

And it ended right there, right when James turned around to look at her expectedly for an answer.

Everything seemed to flash one last time before the old memories melted away, no longer serving a purpose in the universe.

She was back. He was back. Living, breathing, alive. Before Butch.

Butch.

They had to leave. This was what she was good for. She had done this thousands of times.

She had to save him.

Her knees lightly buckled as she fell to the ground, catching herself with her hands. The burden of responsiblity returned to her chest, and she didn't know if she felt the tears return because of what could happen or because of what didn't happen.

He wouldn't remember the moment they shared, but she still did.

"James," she said seriously, eyes glistening. "Do you trust me?"

James watched as Evaline crumpled to the ground. She'd seemed stressed, and maybe frustrated that he'd found the note, but he didn't quite expect this. Something was going on that she wasn't telling him.

"What--?" he stuttered as he saw her look up with tears in her eyes.

He walked up to her, slowly, and knelt down in front of her.

"Yes," he said with uncertainty, before following it with: "What's going on?"

Evaline considered telling James everything, and after everything he had been through with her, she knew he would believe her. But there was no time.

"We need to leave," she said softly. She shoved down the despair as her mind raced to think of a good excuse. "I saw a wanted poster of you as we rushed out of the town. I think I saw someone recognize you."

It wasn't fully the truth, but it was close enough to be believable.

While that was alarming, James wasn’t sure if it was enough to warrant tears. He wanted to talk to her more, but he didn’t want to take the chance, if someone did choose to pursue them right away. Even if he didn’t think she was telling the whole truth, he could sense the urgency, and her fear.

“Okay. It’s going to be alright. Let’s get on Elliot, we’ll move faster,” he said.

He got up and took in a deep breath before he swung himself up on Elliot, gritting his teeth. But he’d done it.

He held out his hand for Evaline to take. “Alright, take my—“

Evaline was already grabbing his hand and reaching her foot up into the stirrup. Surprised, he pulled her up and she swung up behind him, and held around his waist firmly.

It was strange. He almost felt lile they’d done this before, but that wasn’t possible.

He stuck his boots in the stirrups and pointed his heels down, and Elliot started forward, slow at first.

James glanced over his shoulder, unable to shake a strange, uncanny feeling.

“Do you not want to talk about the note?” he asked gently.

Evaline held on to his waist, trying to be gentle, but finding herself exerting extra pressure every time her mind replayed his screams and lifeless body in her head.

She closed her eyes and leaned forward on his back to obscure her face.

The note seemed like the most trivial thing she could worry about, but she knew that took priority right now for him.

"We can later," she quietly said back. "Let's focus on escaping first."

James was quiet for a moment. Evaline sounded really worried, and he could understand. He was anxious too, but was trying to stay calm for her. She said she was wanted, but he wondered how many close calls she had. She said she had friends - a whole resistance around her.

But they were on their own out here.

“Okay,” he said softly.

Elliot sped up, and they flew through the forest.

Some time passed, and they rode on Elliot the entire time, creating great distance from the town. The ride was otherwise uneventful, and Evaline was now positive that they were safe from Butch. For now.

Relief washed over her, but she didn't let her guard down. Now she understood just how dangerous of a situation James was in. Her powers seemed to work here with little problems, and she had to make sure that he—they—remained safe.

Eventually Elliot begins to slow down, and Evaline lightened her grip and glanced over her shoulder, confirming that no one was following them.

"How far did we travel?" she asked.

"A few miles," James estimated. He couldn't say exactly. "It's been a few hours."

They weren't riding full-speed the whole time, but James knew that Elliot needed a break.

"Elliot needs to cool down, and he needs water. The river loops around, so we should run into it pretty soon, but I think we can rest, for a little bit. I'd prefer to keep moving, though, so I think if we walk slowly that would be best."

It had only taken a few minutes after Evaline's warning before his mind fell back into his previous routine: cover as much ground as possible, and stop as little as possible. Now that Evaline felt some of the pressure of seeing a poster of him in town, he hoped she'd be understanding, and willing to press through some weariness to ensure safety.

"But right now, let's stretch. And -" he looked down at her skirt, which had gotten ruffled up from riding for so long "-your pants. Those would be a good idea to put on."

He pulled them out of the bag and handed them to her.

Evaline nodded and took the pants, grateful that he suggested she wear it. During the previous timeline, she regretted not pressing the shopkeeper for the cheapest pants in the store that would closely fit her, even if it was unflattering or uncomfortable. Sprinting through the forest with exposed skin was not a fun time.

She carefully jumped off Elliot and walked behind a tree before kneeling down to unlace her boots. The time spent riding cleared her head a bit, but she was still pretty frazzled, especially since she still didn't understand the full scope of the situation—namely, the why and how. It seemed there was more to the story than simply stopping a king from creating magical child soldiers.

"How many people are after you, anyways?" she asked casually before moving on to unlace the next boot. "Anyone that sees your poster? Seems like you've got a lot of enemies."

James turned away from Evaline's hiding place and patted Elliot's side. He was sweaty from running hard and needed to rehydrate.

"Not everyone who sees my posters decides to act upon it personally. Some simply report me to the local authorities, forfeiting the money, but doing what they think is best by reporting a criminal - who, for all they've been told, is dangerous."

He sighed.

"As for how many people are after me - I mean, I really couldn't say exactly. I was surprised at how many people decided to pick up 'bounty hunting' just for the money. But there are a good handful of people in our world who make a career out of it. The man tailing me most recently has been one of those people. I find the career bounty hunters are far more persistent and resilient and are able to keep up more and track me further because of their experience."

It had been about a year of all of this. Running, fleeing, almost getting caught, and sometimes slipping away at the last minute.

"So... yes. Many enemies."

He also suspected, sometimes, that some of them might've been hired to capture him as well, but that was only conjecture. He couldn't know that for sure.

Evaline listened intently to James, untying her boots and standing up to slip on the pants before putting her boots back on.

"The man who tailed you most recently," she said slowly, trying to keep a steady focus on the story. "Was he the one who hurt you?"

James wasn't sure what Evaline was getting at. He thought he'd already told her, but it was possible she'd forgotten.

"Yes."

Evaline finished changing, sighing and taking a deep breath. She already knew Butch was the one was following him, considering what she remembered and the fact that he had a giant B on his back. She just needed confirmation.

She was hellbent on making sure nothing like that happened to James again.

Evaline stood up straight, peeking from behind the tree to walk back to James. "Okay," she said, avoiding eye contact as she slipped back to view. "Let's go."

James joined her at her side as they began to walk through the forest at a slow pace. Elliot was still breathing a little heavy, but the walking would help.

He scanned the area around them periodically, and even though they'd hardly spoken during the ride, they continued in silence. James wasn't sure what was going on in Evaline's head, and he didn't want to force it out of her, but he could sense the shift. Just a few hours ago, she'd been full of and almost innocent awe and wonder, and as soon as he found the note and they left town, she seemed more on edge.

More aware.

In some ways, her meeting him on the same level of understanding - paranoia, essentially - was a relief, but he kind of missed the brief few days they'd spent where she didn't seem so worried about bounty hunters and getting caught.

He was used to worrying about that, but it had been a relief, to be around someone who...

Well, it had been nice to be around someone in general. For longer than a brief minute interaction.

He'd forgotten how starved he was for company.

He decided to finally break the silence.

"How long have you had that note?" James asked, hoping the note wasn't a touchy subject.