Bitter.

• Emma Luppi, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2022

That’s when her head fell against my chest. It was dumb. It was really dumb. But I didn’t really have a choice. He said he'd come back. He said it, and I ignored him. And he caught up to us then.

’Please, don’t wake up.’ I whispered. If she had woken up, she would have panicked. If she had panicked, we’d both be dead.

She shifted, and I could tell that she wanted to. But she couldn’t. Not because I asked, but because of the loon who had pumped her full of anesthesia. My mind snapped like a rubber band back to the issue at hand. It was wrapped around the chair sitting beneath her body and I had no clue how to turn it off or to call for help without her falling off the chair. I was the only thing stopping the pressure plate from sending a signal to detonate the device.

As I held her up, my hands slid the un-tied rope from around her waist and dropped it to the floor. It landed with a sound that kicked my heart up a notch. Either I got her off that chair and out the door before the device went off, or we didn’t get out of that room. Period.

I asked her if she was ready and my voice broke halfway through the sentence, my heart was in my throat, and my lips brushed against her ear with the words. The whole building had been evacuated. Nobody could get hurt. Well, nobody but us. It was so dumb. The bomb squad should have been doing it, not me. But I didn’t really have a choice. The device had a remote detonator, not just the pressure plate. The bomb squad wouldn't make it. I knew, not because I’m an expert, but because I’d seen it before.

So I did it. I committed and I grabbed her. My arms wrapped themselves around her waist and I lifted. But nothing happened. I froze. Perfectly still with her hanging limply from my arms. Nothing was happening. And that’s when I heard him. His laugh. His hands clapping. His footsteps. It all echoed through the room, through the empty halls of the building until it reached my ears. My head turned to the origin of the sounds. I couldn’t move my body because I wasn’t sure what would happen.

He was tall. The sort of looming figure you see in the movies. His clothing was basic, neutral, a bit of pep in his socks if that counts for anything. But it wasn’t his soul-less eyes, or his shapeless hair that caught my attention. No, it was the tattoo peeking out from behind his white collar. It was military. He was military.

’Congratulations, major. You found her.’ He stopped clapping, sliding his hands into his pockets. His soulless eyes leveled at me as a smile void of emotion split his lips. ‘Wanna see if you can do it again?’