Broken Forest: Book One of the Daath Chronicles by Eliza Tilton Page B

grabbing the lock on the nearby wagon. “What happened? She was in here!” Derrick examined the metal contraption, his shoulders slumping. “This was locked.” The words were barely a whisper.
    A girl with blonde hair and a dangerous bruise on her cheek walked over to us. “Excuse me,” she said. “I think the girl you’re looking for may have been in the wagon with me.” The girl looked around at the other girls who were now out of the wagons. “I don’t see her here.”
    Derrick grabbed the girl by the shoulders. “Did she have long brown hair and blue eyes?”
    The girl nodded.
    “How long ago?” Derrick asked.
    “I don’t know. The man hit me, and I didn’t see anything.” She shook her head and sniffled. Derrick let go of her.
    I grunted and punched the wagon. Pain shot through my arm. How could this happen?
    “We have to go, Derrick,” I said. “Now.
    He nodded, and I whistled for Brushfire.
    “Whoa, now hold on you two.” Rudy stepped behind us. “You can’t just be running off. You’re both too weary, and that wound needs to be cauterized.” He pointed to the gash on my arm that seeped with blood.
    Ignoring him, I whistled again. My stomach clenched in anguish as I saw Brushfire limp towards me, an arrow stuck in her backside. “Come here, girl,” I said softly, reaching for her.
    She whinnied. I rubbed her muzzle.
    “It’s okay.” Looking at her, I knew she needed rest, even if I didn’t. I pressed my head against hers.
    Derrick stood behind her, his face solemn. “Hold her,” he said.
    I grabbed her reins.
    “Hold still, girl.” I held her firmly, staring at her big eyes, keeping her calm. I nodded to Derrick. He put one hand on her back and grabbed the shaft with the other.
    “One, two …” He yanked the arrow free. Brushfire neighed and kicked her back legs.
    “Whoa, girl, whoa.” I held onto her, pulling the reins down. “Easy girl.”
    “Rudy’s right,” Derrick said, tossing the arrow into the brush.
    I couldn’t believe he agreed with Rudy. Staring at Derrick with disbelief, I furrowed my brow. “How can you say that? We need to go now! They can’t be that far ahead of us.” If Derrick was stupid enough to listen to that old man, I’d leave him here. “I’m going.”
    “And what happens when you lose so much blood you pass out? You can’t fight and your horse can’t hold you.”
    Jeslyn was out there, probably terrified, and now with a man who could do a thousand horrible things to her. I couldn’t stomach the idea of just sitting here.
    “You know I don’t want to stay either,” he added. “But we have no choice. We’ll leave as soon as you’re able.”
    Maybe Derrick was right, but how could I stay? How could he stay? I patted Brushfire, still debating. I pulled my quiver off and counted the arrows. I sighed and looked around. Before I did anything, I‘d better re-stock.
    Blood covered the ground. A stark reminder of the battle. Retrieving arrows was a gruesome task, but I was running low. Each time I pulled one out of a corpse, nausea spread through me. The adrenaline that fueled me during battle disappeared, leaving me weak and disgusted. Is this what my life had become, a series of complete failures? I’d thought, I’d really thought, this time would be different. I should’ve known better. It was never going to change. Why, why, did I always screw up? I just wanted, for once in this miserable life to do something meaningful. I didn’t want to face my father and tell him, for the second time, that a family member was dead.
    An empty wagon held our only prisoner. His head was wrapped in linen and his hands were tied behind his back. I wanted him dead, and yet here I stood, playing nice. If he gave me the information I needed, not chopping his head off would be worth it.
    I paced back and forth in front of the wagon. “You’re alone,” I said. “No one is coming for you. You have two choices. Your first choice, and the one I recommend,