Briar Valley: The Complete Duet

4. Willow

CHAPTER 4

WILLOW

EUTHANASIA - POST MALONE

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Still alive. Still hope.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Keep walking. Don’t stop.

Focusing on every footstep that echoes in the endless woodland surrounding us, I ignore the beat of my erratic, struggling heart. Arianna is stumbling beside me, more asleep than awake at this point.

We’ve been lost for hours, fumbling through darkness and driven by survival instinct alone. I tried to follow the vague instructions we got from a shop owner, but without a map, we soon got lost as the sun disappeared.

I can’t stop. I won’t stop. Not until we’re safe and I have the answers I’ve been looking for. That damned letter is a decade old, but I’m too desperate to allow that to stop me from taking this risk.

“Keeping going, baby.”

“Tired,” Arianna moans groggily.

“I know, me too. Just a little further.”

We push on through the overbearing pine trees and thick underbrush, guided by the moonlight. I have no clue if we’re heading in the right direction or, at this point, if Briar Valley even exists.

It feels like a myth to me, the stuff of folklore that parents entertain their children with over late-night fairy tales. We’ve been walking for hours and have found absolutely nothing but more trees and the odd startled deer.

All I have are the handwritten words of an unknown woman, claiming to be my grandmother and beckoning me in with open arms when Dad died ten years ago. This is the most reckless decision I’ve ever made.

What if she left?

What if it’s all a hoax?

Fire licks at my insides, the stabbing pain in my chest forcing me to stop for a second. I’m gasping hard and struggling for breath. The taste of blood is thick on my tongue, flooding my mouth with a constant coppery flow.

Hunched over with my hands gripping my trembling knees, I hack up several mouthfuls of blood as black spots interfere with my vision. Everything is blurry.

I’m running out of time. I know that I can’t keep up this pace for much longer. The mad scramble over rocks and moss-covered banks to get this far almost killed me off.

“Faster, Ari,” I beg her. “We have to keep going.”

“Too tired,” she complains.

“Please, baby. For me.”

Hand bunched in my sweat-drenched shirt, Arianna clings to me as we hike onwards through the darkness. Our feet crunch over twigs and rocks, adding to the strange symphony of sounds deep in the forest.

I’ve never seen anywhere like this place. It feels like the trees are alive, their powerful branches stretching so high above us, it’s a wonder they don’t kiss the clouds.

“I wish Pedro were here,” Arianna whispers. “He could carry us both.”

Stumbling on numb feet, the vision of his final moments comes back to me. Collapsing in a puddle of blood, his usually warm, compassionate eyes were empty of all life.

I can’t waste his sacrifice. We have to make it. There’s no other option, and I’ll die trying if that’s what it takes to get my little girl to the safety of Briar Valley. Arianna has to live.

Time trickles by in a blur of darkness, pain and exhaustion. My strength is fading fast, sapped by the constriction of my lungs, which are burning so fiercely it feels like I’ve swallowed a lit match.

With my eyes barely open, I spot the huge tree root in the path far too late. Losing my footing, a scream locks my throat up as I fall backwards over a deep ridge.

“Ari!”

Her tiny hand is ripped from mine, and she shrieks so loud, the terrified sound slashes through my ribcage and spears my heart. It hurts far worse than the thorns shredding my exposed skin as I fall with nothing to grab hold of.

Falling. Falling. Falling.

This is it.

My death.

Gelatinous mud fills my hands in my frenzied search to stop myself from sliding further down the steep bank. My hand catches on another exposed root, but it breaks off with a loud snap, and I scream again.

Warmth trickles down my face. All I feel is blinding pain as I tumble on and on through the mud, eventually hitting the bottom of the ravine and splashing into a current of freezing-cold water.

“Mummy!” Arianna’s cries pierce the night.

Clawing my eyes open, frigid water batters my body, blurring into the beat of fists on flesh. He’s here. Mr Sanchez is going to break every last bone inside of me this time.

“Mummy! What should I do?”

I can’t even open my mouth without choking. Pain assaults me from every direction. Pounding. Piercing. Slashing my flesh into ribbons. Taking the last vestiges of hope that led me into these woods.

The welcome numbness of darkness approaches with open arms, punctuated by her sobbing from above. Clinging to consciousness, I beg the world on my knees to keep her safe. My little girl. My angel. My one light at the end of this very long tunnel.

If I must die, I want her to live for us both. Arianna is the best part of me, the only proof I have that my life has been worth living. I need to know that she will be okay.

“I can see lights! I’ll get help!”

Hit by another crashing wave of nausea, I succumb to the warmth of unconsciousness. My only company is the bitter, hateful voice that has tattooed itself into my mind over many years of relentless torture.

My husband. My abuser. The monster who fathered my sweet girl. If the devil were a person, he’d wear calculating blue eyes and the perfume of sweet cigar smoke. That’s who Mr Sanchez is. That’s who he’ll always be.

I won, darling wife.

You’re nothing without me.

My blanket of numbness is stripped away all at once, exposing me to the harsh bite of water once more. Something is touching me. No, someone . I can feel their rough hands.

The world filters back in with each ragged breath I take, illuminated in vivid snapshots. Shouting. Panic. Probing fingers. A flashlight in my eyes. It hurts so bad.

“P-Please, help her! Mummy!”

Crying. Begging. The sharp bite of wind and frosty water. I try to reach for Arianna and fail, caught in a dark mental prison with no windows and no doors. All I can hear is her increasingly frantic crying.

“Move out of the way, squirt,” someone orders in a firm rasp. “We’ve got your mum.”

“No! Mummy!”

“Ari,” I moan in pain.

“Zach, go find reinforcements. We need more muscle.”

Two huge hands engulf my cheeks, their thumbs pinching my skin as they gently shake. My eyes are still too heavy to lift. I can’t drag them open, no matter how loud my internal voice wails.

“Mummy! Mummy!”

“Someone get rid of the kid. I need more space.”

“No! Let me go!”

I can sense a strong pair of arms around me, then another explosion of pain as I’m lifted. Everything hurts. Life hurts. Breathing hurts. If it weren’t for Arianna, I’d surrender.

“Call Doc. Tell him to set up at Lola’s cabin.”

“What should I say?” a lighter voice responds.

“She’s in a bad way. Prepare them for the worst.”

I feel the last scraps of life drain out of me with that whispered name. Lola . She’s alive. She’s real. We’ve made it to our destination. After all this time, I can finally let go.

“You got a name, kid?”

“You’re a stranger,” Arianna argues defiantly. “I can’t tell you.”

“Get in the truck then. You’re safe now.”

On the count of four, I’m lifted from the ravine with a series of colourful curses and huffed breaths. I think I black out a little while being carried, because next thing I know, a car engine is rumbling.

“Ari,” I groan.

“Mummy!”

Tiny hands cradle my face and help to peel my eyelids open at last. Two stunning, azure eyes filled with fresh tears stare down at me. She looks so afraid. I hate it.

“I got help,” Arianna sobs. “These big men are going to make us safe. Please, Mummy. Don’t go to sleep again.”

The pair of burly arms wrapped around me tighten into a vice. Arianna’s face is replaced by a pair of burnished-brown irises that resemble smouldering ashes. The man stares at me, his thick lips pursed tight.

“Why are you here?” he demands.

“L-Lola.”

“Where did you learn that name?”

“We’re looking for home,” Arianna whimpers.

“Home?” the man echoes.

The car jolts as it hits a bump in the track, causing me to let out a shrill scream. Suddenly, breathing becomes even more difficult. Air slips through my fingertips as I try to suck it in and fail. I’m drowning on dry land.

He studies my breathing, his pale eyebrows drawing together. “Something’s wrong.”

“What is it?” another voice replies.

The blonde-haired beast lowers his ear to my chest, listening to the wet, pained gasps slipping past my parted lips. He pushes Arianna away so she can’t watch me struggle.

“She has fluid in her lungs, I think. Hurry the fuck up.”

“We’re nearly there. Doc’s ready and waiting.”

A rough, calloused hand cups my jaw as the big guy leans in close, a single breath separating our lips. He watches me with frantic eyes, unable to help as I slowly choke.

“You’re clearly a fighter, so don’t give up on me now,” he implores. “You’ve got a beautiful girl here who needs her mother.”

“Look… after… h-her,” I choke out.

“That’s your goddamn job. Keep your eyes open. She’s not my kid or my problem.”

The last thing I see is him staring down at me with the hellfire of an avenging angel, his steely, intimidating facade cracked by a hint of fear.

I lose grip of the world and let my eyes slide shut, safe in the knowledge that if this is my deathbed, I got Arianna out of the hellhole of her childhood.