Chapter Eight: Home

I don't know what made me run faster; the jolting look in Rodney's eyes or the sight of James's bloody body.

I used to be a person who thought people tripping in horror movies was absolutely ridiculous. But it isn't. The fear makes your head swarm. You lose track of your vision in the madness, and your legs feel like jello. Everything in your brain is telling you to run, but your heart is pumping too fast for your legs to work properly.

My legs slip out from under me several times. Behind me, I can hear the struggle. Ximena screams and I hear another gunshot. I stop. The sound of my heart beating in my ear hurts. For a moment, there's silence.

Oh, God, please no.

But out of nowhere, the loud footfalls of someone running full speed at me causes me to step back. I picture Monica brandishing her gun. But when I see Ximena with her dark, damp hair sticking to her face, I feel a bit of relief.

I wait for her to catch up. I grab her hand and run.

"Where's Rodney?" I ask, the question pouring out of me.

She shakes her head. "He- He saved me. He's fighting her."

I dig my nails into my free hand. I want to turn back and help him. But if I go back there and get hurt, he'd never forgive me. I know that's not what he'd want.

I half-expect to reach another fork but it's not there. Instead, we find a larger room. It's full of large and small crates. Shelves line the walls with hundreds of jars.

"Where the hell are we!?" She whispers in a hiss.

"We're in her family's shelter."

Her shocked eyes meet mine. "Shelter? Like for an apocalypse?"

Considering the jars and crates, I assume so. "Yeah. She told me her dad was an 'End of the World' nut, I just never thought it would be this bad. Or that she'd use it for her twisted plan."

"Look!" Ximena shouts louder than I would've liked. But she points ahead. "There's the door!"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you..."

The both of us go still at the sound of her voice. Almost simultaneously, we turn to face her. But instead of aiming the gun at me, she's got the end of the barrel pressed against Rodney's temple.

"No!" My stomach sinks deep to my feet.

She ticks an eyebrow. "You know I will kill him, Zoe. He has to pay. But..." she trails off with dramatic effect. "I'll make you a deal."

Whatever's left of my stomach twists and turns sour. "What kind of deal?" I ask cautiously.

A grin spreads over her face. "I'm glad you asked! Now, I can't just let you go. But I'll let you choose one of three options.

"Option A: I'll kill Rodney first and let you live a little while longer. Option B: I'll kill you first so you don't have to see him die. Or Option C: I'll kill you both at the same exact time. That way you can have your tragic, romantic death."

"You're sick," I spit out.

"Alright, alright," she holds up a finger. "How about a fourth option? Option D: In exchange for both yours and Rodney's lives, you give up Ximena."

Ximena chokes. "W-What!?" Her eyes meet mine in a frenzy. "Zoe! You can't -!"

"Shut up!" Monica hisses. "Let her choose."

I don't give her any satisfaction. "No."

Her ice cold eyes fall onto me. "Excuse me?"

"I said no," I repeat, my voice thick with a mix of fear and confidence. "I'm not falling for the tests you gave the others. Unlike you, I'm not a killer. If this means that I die, then so be it. But I won't value my own life as more than Ximena's."

"You've always disappointed me," she says as she narrows her eyes. "But if you don't choose, I'll just have to kill Rodney then." Her grip on the gun tightens and she moves her finger towards the trigger.

Rodney panics, something that scares the hell out of me. His eyes widen and a different kind of terror flashes across his face. "Wait, wait, wait!"

I instinctively step towards them, reaching out and shouting, "No!" It catches her off guard, and Rodney uses it to his advantage. He elbows her hard in the stomach. She groans in pain and doubles over, losing her grip on the gun. As it falls to the floor, Rodney rushes at her to keep her down. I, however, run to the gun.

I've never held one before. It feels strange and foreign in my hand. But I try my best. I lock my hands around it and aim. Down on the floor, Monica is surprised as her eyes meet that of the barrel.

She laughs, but not in a way I'd expect. It's like she can't believe it. "I should've killed you when I had the chance," she whispers to herself. "Why did I have to save you for last?"

My head swarms. "You were going to kill me last?"

"Yes."

I blink away the tears as I aim harder. "I was your friend! I'm sorry I hurt you, but I did care about you! Didn't that count for something? Anything?"

"No!" She sneers. "It was worse coming from you!"

I shake my head, unable to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry."

She, however, doesn't let go of my gaze. "Just do it already."

With her in the sights of the gun, I realize how easy this is. How easy it would be to end this nightmare once and for all. But I hear a voice, one that tells me how I would feel after. How awful it would be to know I ended the life of someone, no matter how evil they were.

'Unlike you, I'm not a killer.'

I lower the gun. "I told you." I say. "I'm not a killer."

She breaks out into a grin. "Always disappointing."

Monica kicks at my leg, the impact sending my vision to turn red. I scream out in pain as I clutch my leg. The gun falls to the ground and she grabs it before Rodney can.

"I do want to see you die last," she says to me, pointing the gun at me. "But you've caused me so much trouble."

I squint my eyes shut, but it's darker than normal. I peek them open to see someone standing in front of me. It doesn't take me long to realize what's happening.

Rodney is standing between me and the gun.

"Rodney," I reach out. "Don't."

"You want to kill her?" He asks lowly. "Then you'll have to go through me first."

I expect to hear the gunshot ripple through the room. But I hear something else instead. A sound I never thought I would hear again.

Sirens. Emergency vehicle sirens.

I glance behind me to where I left Ximena but she's gone. "Oh my God," I whisper. "Ximena called the cops."

Over Rodney's shoulder, I see Monica's face turn white. She stumbles backwards. "Fuck." She looks over our faces, her gun raised. But as the blaring sirens get closer, she swears once more before spinning on her heel and retreating into the building.

Rodney turns to face me. He braces me against his side as he helps me up the shelter steps and out through the door.

It's still dark out. How long had we been here? I recognize Monica's backyard immediately. Ximena is standing off to the side, speaking with one of Monica's neighbors. A cop car pulls into the back entrance with an ambulance close behind. The officers hop out and run towards us.

"Where is he?" The officer demands.

"Who?" I ask, confused.

"The kidnapper."

I shake my head. "She," I correct. "Her name is Monica. And she ran. Inside the shelter."

They both took off into the shelter, their guns and flashlights drawn.

A sense of relief washes over my spine violently. A sob threatens to break through my throat as I realize I'm okay. We're okay. I never thought since I first woke up that I'd survive this night.

"Zoe?" A voice calls out, so distant I nearly missed it. But when I feel his hand touch my arm, I know who it is. I turn to face him. "Are you okay?"

I can only imagine what my face looks like. It's probably dirty and bloody, and now sloppy tears slide down my cheeks. They're happy tears, for the most part.

Happy I'm alive. Happy we're alive. But sad for the lost lives inside the shelter.

Rodney gazes at me with concern burning in his eyes. His shoulders are a bit less tense now, his one arm at his side while his other hand remains on my arm. Through the simple touch, I feel his strength rushing through me.

His face is dirty too. Blood and dirt coat in spots. His hair is disheveled, which is a sight. But he doesn't look bad. He looks like a hero.

Like a magnet, I feel myself drawn to him. I step towards him, a bolt of electricity shocking the distance between us. And with my tears and all, I push my face up to his and press my lips to his.

For a second, he freezes and hesitates. But he relaxes and wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer. His kisses me softly. It's warm and comforting. I don't feel rushed. It's like dipping your feet in a cool pool. I just want to stay here forever.

We disconnect and I lean my head back to gaze up at him. "Thank you," I whisper to him, wiping at my cheek while holding his hand with my other hand.

A light smile lifts at the corner of his mouth. "For what?"

"For saving my life."

His fingers trace my left eyebrow and trail down my cheek. I try to resist closing my eyes. "Isn't that what a guy's supposed to do? Save a pretty girl?"

A real, genuine laugh escapes from me. I never would've thought I'd laugh like this again. "Yeah, I guess so. Still," I glance down at my feet. "You didn't have to. But you did."

"Hey..." he gently lifts my chin up. I meet his soft eyes. "You're worth dying for."

All the air leaves my chest and it catches in my throat. I throw my arms around him and squeeze my eyes shut.

"Thank you," I whisper, over and over again.

When I pull back, I spot a woman officer approaches us. "Hello, Zoe, Rodney. My name is Officer Moore. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions now?"

All of a sudden, I feel exhaustion as if concrete is in my blood. "I want to, but I am so tired." I try to hold back the tears, but it's hard. "I didn't think I'd make it out alive."

She nods. "I understand. You two go home and get some rest. Here's my card. Come see me in the morning."

Before she turns to leave, she pauses. "Oh. Do you kids need a ride home?"

Dread fills my stomach. "My parents are out of town," I say. Although I don't say it, I think she knows what I'm getting at. I don't want to go home to an empty house with Monica still out there.

"You can stay with me," Rodney whispers.

I gaze up at him. "Really?"

He nods, a soft smile on his face. "Absolutely."

"Okay." I take his hand into mine. "Let's go home."