“Don’t bother screaming,” he said, giving his rope a cruel tug that wrenched me to my feet. Another hard yank sent me stumbling after him as he exited the tent. “It’s not going to save you. You brought this upon yourself.”

Gritting my teeth, I winced with every step. My ankles were sore and swollen, and my toes tingled as though they were still immersed in icy water.

Once his back was turned, I fumbled with the scalpel. I angled the blade inward, slid it between the entwined rope, and began sawing back and forth. Bits of hemp scratched my palms, the ropes digging into my skin as I strained to cut myself free.

Lieutenant Dronov dragged me past the tents. At the edge of the encampment, he retrieved an axe from a nearby chopping stump.

My blood pounded in my ears, and my vision blurred around the corners. I imagined the axe swinging down, the sound it would make, the resounding thud of impact. I imagined my mother striding between the snow-laden trees.

Was this how she had felt just before it happened? Was it how Vanya felt? I thought of how he had stood at the forest’s edge, smiling even as he struggled to hold back tears. Tears of my own flooded my eyes. Why hadn’t I been able to protect him?

I took a steady breath, exhaling slowly as Dronov led me into the forest. Take deep breaths and keep going. Get ready. Make him pay.

We walked until the camp noises faded into silence. The sky grew steadily lighter as the sun rose past the mountains, but in the depths of the forest, there were still many shadows. A dim orchid haze settled over the trees.

Clumps of fiber fell between my hands. The sickening fear that rolled around in the pit of my stomach was dwarfed by a sudden sense of anticipation. Any moment now, I would do what I needed to do and fight.

“We’re almost there,” Dronov said.

The scalpel grazed my inner wrist as the rope around my arms gave way. I felt no pain at all, simply a dampness slipping down my skin as I jerked my hands free. Lieutenant Dronov spun around with a low growl of surprise, likely having felt the rope go slack. I lunged at him.

My scalpel found Dronov’s shoulder with a soft squelch. He didn’t collapse like I had hoped but screamed in pain and turned so suddenly that the scalpel’s handle was torn from my hand. The blade remained embedded in him for a moment after I released it, before falling to the ground.

Bellowing in rage, Dronov swung the axe at me. I ducked down as it cleaved through the air above my head. Before he could try for another strike, I reeled back, nearly slipping in the slick leaves and moss. I swiveled around and rushed into the forest.

Branches shuddered and snapped behind me. Dead leaves were pulverized beneath pounding feet. I didn’t dare look back.