Chapter 134 TAKEN ON ROAD
AMBER’S POV
The knock came again, harder this time. The glass shook under it just as my daughter started crying, her small hands gripping her brother’s shirt. I wanted to turn the cart around, to press the horses and tear through the trees if I had to, but there was nowhere to go. They had closed us in.
I rolled the window down just a little. Cold air rushed in, thick with the smell of earth and smoke.
“What do you want?” I asked. My voice didn’t sound like mine.
The man closest to me leaned down. I still couldn’t see his face, just the edge of his jaw, the dark shape of his hood.
“Step out of the carriage,” he said.
“No,” I said. “My kids are here.”
Another figure moved toward the back doors. Panic shot through me just as I flung the door open and stepped out before they could touch the handles.
“Please,” I said, holding my hands up. “They’re just children.”
One of them laughed, low and sharp. “So were you, once.”
I didn’t have time to ask what he meant. Hands grabbed my arms from behind, twisting them back. I cried out, kicking, fighting, but there were too many of them. Someone yanked my hair, forcing my head up.
“Leave them alone!” I screamed.
A door opened as my son yelled my name. The sound ripped through me worse than any pain. I tried to turn, to see them, but a hard blow landed against my side. The air rushed out of my lungs. I folded over, gasping.
“Don’t hurt her!” my daughter cried.
Another strike came, this time against my shoulder. Something cracked or tore. Fire spread down my arm. I bit down on a scream as the world tilted.
They pulled the kids from the car. I heard their cries, felt them calling for me, and I fought harder. I swung my elbow back, felt it connect with something soft. A grunt. For a second, hope flared.
Then a fist smashed into my face. White light exploded behind my eyes as I tasted blood. My knees hit the ground hard. Gravel cut into my skin as someone dragged me upright again, but my legs wouldn’t work right.
“Mommy!” my son screamed.
“I’m here,” I tried to say, but it came out broken.
They shoved me toward another vehicle hidden off the road. My vision blurred as I caught flashes of my kids being pushed inside first, their small bodies swallowed by the dark. Fear wrapped tight around my chest.
I tried to run to them.
Pain slammed into my back as I fell forward, face-first into the dirt. Stars burst across my sight just as I felt my hands roll me over. A boot pressed down on my ribs.
“Enough,” a voice said above me.
Something cold struck the side of my head. The world spun, slowed and slipped. I held onto one thought as everything started to fade.
Stay awake. Stay awake for them.
I don’t know how long I drifted before the sound came back. Voices, low and close. My head throbbed like it was being crushed from the inside. Every breath hurts.
I tried to move and cried out instead, my wrist burned. When I opened my eyes, everything doubled. I blinked hard until shapes settled into one.
I was lying on the floor of a moving vehicle. My hands were tied as blood had dried along my temple and into my hair. Each bump in the road sent pain through my skull.
“Mom?” a small voice whispered.
I twisted as much as I could. My kids were curled together in the corner, eyes wide, faces streaked with tears. My heart broke all over again.
“I’m here,” I said, my voice barely there. “I’m right here.”
They crawled closer, careful not to touch my arms. My daughter pressed her forehead to mine as I felt her shaking.
“Why are they doing this?” she asked.
I didn’t have an answer. I wished I did because I wished I had done something different. Driven faster. Turned back, never answered that call.
The vehicle slowed, then stopped.
A door slid open. Light flooded in, sharp and blinding. Hands grabbed me again, rough and impatient. I tried to pull back, but my strength was gone as they dragged me out, my feet scraping the ground.
My vision swam as I looked around. Trees and old buildings half fallen in on themselves. The place felt wrong like the land was sick.
They shoved me forward. I stumbled and fell, catching myself with my bound hands. Pain shot through my shoulder, hot and deep. I screamed before I could stop myself.
“Get her up,” someone said.
I was hauled to my feet again. The kids were pulled out after me as I strained to stay close to them, but a man stepped between us.
“No,” I said, tears spilling free now. “Please. Don’t separate us.”
He looked at me for a long moment. I thought he might listen but instead, he raised his hand.
The blow came fast as my head snapped to the side. The world cracked open and I felt myself falling, but didn’t feel the ground.
Darkness rushed in, thick and heavy. Sounds stretched and slowed as my kids’ voices echoed, distant and panicked. I tried to reach for them and even tried to call their names.
Everything went quiet and then there wa
s nothing at all.
A DISTRESSING STATE