SICK HEART by Huss, JA (non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

Then I turn around again, and this time, when she calls my name, I don’t stop.

I do not look back.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN - ANYA

I catch up with Udulf at the parked cars. And everything about this moment is ironic.

There are ten limos. These powerful men all came in their fancy cars. Didn’t even think to carpool, but whatever. All the mercs are doubling as drivers today but they are all back in the center of the base camp, fighting with a pack of warrior children.

Udulf is going from car, to car, to car looking for keys—desperately holding on to the idea that if he just searches hard enough, he’s going to stumble into an escape plan.

I slowly walk up to him.

He’s got a gun, so he’s feeling pretty cocky when he points it at me. “Find me some keys. Now!”

I just scoff. “Like I know where the keys are? I don’t live here, Udulf. I have been with you for the last three days, remember? I don’t have any keys. So if you want to escape—” I nod my head to the road as I continue to slowly walk up to him. “You better start running.”

Gunshots ring through the camp behind us and Udulf laughs. “I better start running? Do you think you’re winning, you pathetic, worthless little whore?”

“So shoot me.” I am still walking towards him. “Go ahead. If I’m no threat to you… if I’m just a pathetic, worthless little whore, what are you so afraid of, Udulf? Hmm?”

He scoffs. “What are you doing? You think you’re going to fight me?”

Fight him?

I mean, everything about that is just stupid and his gun is only the first reason.

No. This moment with Udulf isn’t about fighting him. I don’t need to fight him. I just want him to see me. I want him to be thinking about me when he dies.

Because he is going to die today.

My eyes dart to the jungle behind Udulf just as Zoya slips between two ferns.

Udulf turns, automatically firing into the trees. But his aim is too high. Zoya is barely three feet tall. He realizes his mistake as his gaze finds hers. She is a fierce-looking girl, for sure. But not really a threat to a full-grown man. And Udulf knows this.

So he chuckles. And not some nervous chuckle, either, but like this is actually funny. “Her? That’s who’s gonna save you today, Anya Bokori?”

“Try again,” Rasha says, coming out of the jungle from another direction.

Udulf looks confused for a moment, but still doesn’t realize what’s happening. “Two of you!” He guffaws. “Plus you!” He’s looking at me when he says that.

And that’s why he doesn’t see Irina slip out of the jungle, come right up behind him, put her knife to his throat, and slit it open.

It’s over so fast I feel like I missed it. And I have a moment of regret for not doing it myself. For missing out on the heat of his sticky blood all over my hands.

But Irina shakes her head at me from the other side of the road. She points her bloody knife at me and says, “You are mental ninja, Anya Bokori.” Then she points to herself. “I am real ninja. And I am big sister here. Don’t you ever forget that.”

I have never killed anyone.

Not really. Cort is the one who finished Pavo off, not me.

And even though if you had asked me just ten seconds ago if I wanted to kill Udulf van Hauten, I would’ve said yes… ten seconds later I would’ve regretted it.

I am not a killer.

And now, I will never have to be.

So I accept Irina’s unexpected rescue with a silent bow.

Irina bows back and then we all meet up in the middle of the road and look down at Udulf. He’s not quite dead yet, still choking on his own blood. And I’m sure we’re all thinking we should feel something about this… but we don’t.

Zoya says, “I’m hungry.”

Rasha says, “Should we go to the ship now?”

Irina tsks her tongue and huffs. “It kinda pissed me off that they never see us coming. What does a girl have to do to get respect around here?”

I say, “Me too. Let’s go,” and then I give Irina’s shoulder a squeeze. “Being underestimated can be a good thing. Just embrace it.”

Then we all enter the jungle, make a wide circle around the base camp, and jog towards the cliffs.

Irina stops us before we get to the path that leads to the rock where we got off the ship just a few days earlier. She whispers, “There are men up there, look!”

We all follow her pointing finger and, sure enough, we can see some of the mercenaries are on the rock. Shooting at the ship.

But someone is shooting back.

“Rainer,” Rasha says. “And the ship security.”

“There is no gangplank,” I say.

“So what do we do now?” Zoya asks.

“This way,” Irina says.

And we run again, our feet pounding on the jungle floor, until we run out of jungle. We stand there, on the edge of the trees, looking out over the water towards the ship.

“It’s leaving,” Zoya says. Her fierce calm suddenly cracking in panic. “It’s leaving without us.”

And she’s right. The ship is moving. We are the last ones and—

“Warriors!” The yell cracks through the jungle and we all turn in that direction. “This way!”

The mercs hear the call as well and stop shooting at the ship.

They start shooting at us.

“Run!” It’s Cort calling to us. He’s running towards the cliff carrying Ainsey in one arm and pointing at the ship with the other. “Jump!”

And we do.

Because Maart might be our teacher, but Cort is our leader.

And when your leader tells you to jump off a cliff—you jump off a cliff.

We hit the edge of the rocky ledge at the same time, but Cort and Ainsey are about thirty yards down the shoreline.

And none of us hesitates.

We’ve been here before.

We’ve spent our whole lives living on