𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 53.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐎𝐅 the bell tower poked through the tallest trees, the old and fragmented wooden planks even visible from ground and in the dark, hanging onto their last screws. The triangular crown of it gleamed under the light of the moon, the moon that shined above everything in a perfect full circle. I closed my eyes in a long blink.

Instantly, my mind flickered to the first time I had hung out with Sarah. I saw images of myself walking in town on Figure Eight after running from the lighthouse, my face red as a tomato, as Kooks passed by me and trailed eyes down my obscure appearance. Before I had made it out of town, a black Range Rover had pulled up on the sidewalk next to me, and in the drivers seat, sat Kook princess, sunglasses perched on the bridge of her freckled nose. She had invited me in for a drive to escape the burning hot weather, her lips always pulled up into a bright smile.

I had hopped in her car. She had offered me a tour of the island. And so, that's what we did. She had taken me all around the neighbourhoods of Figure Eight, drove us through town a bit more, and stopped at Tannyhill to showcase her house. I remembered being so awestruck about her home when I had first seen it— and never had I imaged myself one day going inside, for sleepovers, and to even stay there for a few days.

She had taken me to the streets that separated the Cut and the rich side, and that's where she had pointed out the church. Something along the lines of, it was old, and had been abandoned for years. I remembered looking at it for a few long seconds, really taking time to notice the red chipping wood from the very peak of it, in the early summer daylight. I had pushed the thought away, though, as we had driven onto the Cut, then on a tour of, supposedly, my side of the island, the Pogue side. I hadn't thought about the abandoned church ever, after that.

But now, as John B squeezed my hand tighter with his, and we ducked through a path of trees, I looked up to see it. To see something so boring, so lifeless, and so forgotten in my mind, something that, at one point in time, took up a small space in my thoughts. I swallowed hard, and bit down onto my bottom lip.

The whole island was in on us now. Not just the cops, or not just some adults, everyone. Behind us, teenagers shouted and hollered between one another, ordering for some to pan out in different directions, in search for the fugitive.

The two of us had crawled out from the laundry room in a hurry, running through the unoccupied lawn at the side, shielding away from the lights. We could hear voices as we scurried. Voices of cops, of adults, but most importantly, teenagers. Most likely teenagers that I had crossed paths with at some point, on the streets or at that beach party. They were in on the search— bright-eyed and ready run, ready to find us at any cost. It made my stomach turn, at how angry the youth was, how riled up they seemed to be getting.

But the thing that made my stomach ache the most, was the sound of Rafe Cameron's voice, shouting loudly. Just hearing his voice was confirmation that he had made it out safe— that his dad was keeping the secret, and that Sarah, if she was alive, hadn't let the truth out. I couldn't see Rafe, but everyone heard him. In fact— he was the leader of the search, he had designated himself to being the leader of all those teenagers, the band of teenagers that were willing to risk it all to fins us.

My vision had gone so blurry from angry tears that I had to stop and wipe them. I had wanted to run into that group of teenagers, find Rafe Cameron and punch him in the throat. Tell everyone that he did it. That he had killed the sheriff. But John B was rushing to pull us behind a truck.

I had clenched my hands into tight fists as John came up with a quick plan, a quick plan to distract everyone. He had reached into the bed of the truck, always hidden, and pulled out a crowbar. He had thrown the weapon across the street, where Rafe and Kelce were angrily searching for us. Miraculously, one of the cars parked on their side of the street, had set of it's alarm, catching their attention. It had been enough of a distraction for us to quickly dash away from the truck, down an empty and dark path.

"The church, John B," I struggled to say, meaning it as a question, but the breathlessness of my words concealed it.

"Yeah—" he huffed. He took a second to glance up at it over the trees. "Just— trust me."

I let out a heavy breath, and continued my fast pace on the hard ground. The sharp branches of low plants prickled at my legs, but I stayed moving them, ignoring it. I was sure that there were red scratches everywhere on my ankles. The pounding in my head hadn't gotten any better than when I first injured it, there was still a ringing in my ears, except, it had only diminished a little bit. The bandaid taped on my forehead stopped the bleeding, but the stains still remained on my fingers.

I reached up to feel the covered gash, wincing from my own touch, right as John B stopped walking once turned around a bend. My front side collided with his shoulder.

"Oh, shit," John B struggled for air, and gawked, looking up at the church in front of us.

I followed his gaze and tilted my neck back to stare at the immense wooden building in front of us. In the darkness, I could see boarded-up windows, with spaces between the falling planks.

John B wrapped a gentle hand around my wrist, "Come on," he said, and guided us to one of the first visible windows.

He raised his leg, and let his foot come in contact with the thin wooden board covering the hole, where a window was supposed to be. He was careful not to make too much noise. I stood, looking around just in case, before he delicately shoved me in front of him. I didn't even have to hear a word for me to climb inside the church. The chipping wood along the windowsill scratched the back of my thighs, before I turned back about once my feet were on the floor, waiting for John B. Soon after a quick glance behind him, to make sure everything was okay, he ducked in.

I barely had enough time to look around the empty church, before we were rushing to some sort of ladder along the far wall. What I could get a glimpse of, was old pews, and stray books with disheveled pages laying on the ground. The abandoned place sent a chill down my spine, but I ignored it, as he stopped beside the ladder.

"Where are we going," I hushed my voice, as he motioned for me to climb up first. I gripped my hands around the metal, preparing, as I stared at him in the dark. I could only see a mere outline of his facial features.

"Go up, I'm right behind you," he whispered back.

My head was hurting too much to nod, and so I simply closed my lips, and began the climb up the metal ladder, with him close behind me. He whispered to push on the roof above my head. And so I did.

As I tried to catch my breath, I used my arms and elbows to push what seemed to be, a trapdoor, revealing an attack-like space. I held my breath, still moving my feet, until the trapdoor fell against its end, and I was placing my bottom on the wood floor. John B was soon sitting beside me.

"What is this place," I murmured, my eyes looking around.

My chest was heaving in and out unsteadily, and I sat there, trying to catch my breath as much as I could. We were sitting in the very peak of the church, the bell tower. I had never stepped foot inside of a church, let alone the very top it, and I certainly never pictured myself hiding out inside of one with a boy.

John B stood up, quickly. "The bell tower," he said, as he whizzed past a long string hanging from the roof, the string softly colliding with his shoulder.

"And you've..." I swallowed, my throat dry, "Been up here, before,"

"Yeah," he huffed out quietly, stepping over to a closed window. "I don't think they'll find us up here," he was saying.

It felt as though the mood was shifting, to much calmer, despite every circumstance. We could still hear the shouts, and the blaring sirens, but it was just the two of us. And no one was standing outside of a door, keeping us trapped, and we weren't hopeless.

I placed my hands along the wood next to my thighs, and pushed myself up, feeling my legs give out. I stumbled over to where he was standing, in front of the window.

He looked down at me struggling, "Are you okay, Charlie," he asked, worried.

I nodded my head. "Yeah, I'm fine," I tried not to let the pain show in my face, but it was hard, and caused me to squint my eyes. I nearly fell, but gripped my fingers around the chipping windowsill, holding my body weight up. We had ran for hours, my legs were almost numb.

"Stop saying that," he turned his body to me.

"What do you want me to say, John B," I looked up at him. I wasn't speaking angrily, or with a tone of sadness, simply sounding defeated.

His lips formed into a tight line, "I'm sorry, yeah, I know," he said, and really meant it. He rubbed his head with an air of guilt, "That was dumb to ask."

"I'm just," I paused, looking down at my hands. "I don't know,"

I didn't even need to finish my sentence for him to get the point. We had gone through all of it together, and it was more than obvious how I was feeling, how we were both feeling.

"Look, no one can find us up here," he soothed, with a calming voice.

A certain warmth spread through my body when he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, holding me close to him. He placed a kiss on the top of my head.

"Fuckin' crazy," I whispered, staring at the thin spaces between the wooden planks on the window in front of us. "He's out there, Rafe is out there, just walking around looking for us," my steady breathing pattern was slowly going back to normal.

"I know," he sighed, rubbing a hand on my arm.

"It's fucked up," I would have felt tears rise to my eyes, but I was simply tired of crying.

We stood, for a long moment, before John B slightly perked up.

"Look," he whispered, quieter now. He loosened his grip around me, but kept his hand there, as he slightly turned. "On the wood," he pointed a finger to the wood along the rim of the window.

"What," I breathed out.

"Lean this way," he slowly leaned our bodies to the side.

At first, I was confused, but soon, a streak of moonlight spilled through one of the cracks in the planks, illuminating an engraved message on the wood, as we tilted just at the right angle. It was John B's name, and a date.

"That's you?" A smile wasn't the right word to describe my new expression, but all the tension fell from my face as I looked at the writing.

"Yeah," he laughed, but it sounded more like a simple breath of air.

"Cute," I bumped my shoulder into his chest, lightly.

"Look— Charls," his voice dropped a little bit, "We're gonna be okay, alright?"

"You don't know that," I shifted my eyes up to him beside me. "The whole island is—"

"On lockdown, I know," he had his hands on both sides of my arms, "Just trust me,"

He moved one hand up to let it cup the side of my face, as he leaned in. Softly, he attached our lips together, and I kissed back softly. Just as always, a whirl of butterflies erupted in my stomach, but they weren't as strong. He pulled away, holding me close.

"I wish we could stargaze," I said, quietly. "Like that one night,"

He let out a small laugh, looking down as he intertwined our fingers. "Soon, Charlotte, I promise." he assured, and placed another kiss on my lips.

I tried to smile.

"Jj is getting his dad's boat, the Phantom, okay," he looked into my eyes, "And then we'll get past the coast, and we'll be out of here," he said, confidently.

I felt my stomach tighten at the "we'll".

Before I could reply anything at all, we heard a loud thud.

And in a split second, I instantly forgot about what he had said, as we whipped our heads down towards the trapdoor, in which, to our horror, was pushing open. The calm mood was gone, just like that.

John B reached for a stray item lying on the floor, aiming to use it as a weapon. He pushed me to stand behind him. I caught my breath as a flush of hair became visible in the darkness, coming from underneath the small door. He raised the weapon higher.

But when the person turned their head towards us, I felt my heart fall to the floor.

Even in the dark I knew it was her.

"Sarah!" I nearly screamed, as I pushed past John B, "Oh my god— Sarah,"

She climbed onto her two feet, looking at us in the darkness, with sad eyes.

I wasted no time I running straight for her, throwing my arms around her neck as tightly as I could.

The second she hugged back, I felt like the weight of the world slipped off my shoulders. Tears rushed up to my eyes, poking at the brims. A sea of butterflies spilled through my whole body, and a chill scattered down my legs, creating goosebumps, as I hugged her. Suddenly, nothing mattered anymore. It was just her and I, our arms wrapped around one another, in the darkness of the bell tower. I wasn't on the run.

When she rubbed a hand on my back, comfortingly, my mind flew back to the first time we had hugged. I saw myself sitting there on the bathroom floor of some Kook's mansion, in front of Sarah who had a flood of tears on her face. I had chosen to hug her that night, even though we had just met. She was crying about Topper, and I had been there to comfort her.

Her arms felt the same around me now, warm and needful, except with an extra feeling. Safe— I felt safe. Despite everything, despite every person hollering John B's name outside on the streets, I felt safe for a moment. Really safe.

"Hi," she whispered, quietly, onto my shoulder.

"Hi," I replied, my voice slightly cracking.

"Are you guys okay," she was slowly pulling away from me, even though I wanted nothing more than to hug her for hours, "Are you hurt, what's happened,"

Her chin slipped away from the crook of my neck, and she still held me. I looked at her face. I looked at everything, her round eyes, the small freckles on her nose, her hair, and the puffiness of her cheeks. She had been crying for a long time.

She quickly looked down my arms and legs, before landing her eyes on my forehead, her face instantly flashing with a look of worry. "Charlie— your head!" She delicately touched the bandaid, her hand hovering over it.

"I'm okay, Sarah," I sniffed, tilting my lips up into a soft smile.

"Kie told— they came to my house, your friends," she was shifting her eyes between John B and I, "They told me you were both on the run, and my dad he, my dad, I'm so sorry, John B," she was close to crying. "I'm really sorry about everything,"

She pulled away from me, and quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"Stop," John B cut her off, speaking softly, "It's not your fault, Sarah." He patted her back.

"He's locked me in my room these past few days," she said, breathing quickly. She walked stood between both of us, "I tricked Wheezie into letting me out and—"

"You shouldn't be out here," I grabbed her wrists, "Rafe— he's out there somewhere," I pointed my finger to the window, "And if he sees you, Sarah, if he sees you—"

"You have to go," John B urged her, strongly.

I nodded, "Yeah, you have—"

"I swear, guys, I saw someone come this way!" A familiar voice cut me off, shouting from somewhere on land, down by the entrance of the church. It was Topper.

My face flushed with a feared look, my eyes darting to Sarah, "Is that—"

"Topper," Sarah gasped.

And then there was a series of shouts, Rafe Cameron's voice mixed in between it all. There were many voices, making their way towards the church. We were stuck, again.

"Oh my god," I ran both hands through my hair, and turned away, defeated.

It was only a matter of time before there was a wail of sirens.

"Okay, okay, okay, look" Sarah panicked, speaking quick, "You guys need to get out of here— you need a distraction," she rushed.

"Fuck," John B cussed, aggressively.

"There's this, uh, this— Rose has a listing down this road," she perked up, "Yeah, yeah, it's an empty house!"

"And how do we get out, Sarah," John B was pacing.

"Shit— I don't know!" She exclaimed.

I seemed to be the only one who heard footsteps on the floor below us.

I looked to Sarah to see if she had noticed, but she was rushing through possible ideas, freaking out. John B was busy pacing, and gripping the ends of his sweater out of anger. I looked at his sweater. Suddenly, an idea popped to mind.

"Your sweater— John B," I pointed to it, catching his attention, "Maybe you can like, like, throw it out of the window, or something, to distract them,"

"That's not gonna work!" He exclaimed, trying to keep his voice hush. "Are you se—"

"Give it to me." Sarah said.

"What?" He stopped pacing.

"Give me your sweater," she ordered, her face flashing with an idea.

He pulled his arms out from the pink hoodie, and shoved it towards her as she reached.

Sarah told John B the address of the empty house, and explained her plans. While she quickly went through it and he caught on, I was trying to listen for anything below us. I breathed in a long breath of air, but it wasn't the normal wood smell that entered my nose like before, I smelled fire.

"Guys, guys, guys," I rushed towards them, "Guys!"

They stopped talking, looking to me.

"I think that's— do you smell that," I had my hands on both of their arms, "It's fire, someone is—"

"Oh my, god," John's face flashed with a look of horror when he realized, instantly rushing to stand over the trap door.

The smell was getting stronger and stronger by the second.

"You have to go, now!" I screamed. The sirens were piercing my ears.

"You go out the back, alright, alright," Sarah was telling us, as she opened the door. "And the code for the door is zero two, one five!"

Instantly, a bright flash of orange light streamed up, and it became hot in less than a second. Crackling sounds were heard all around.

"Hold your breath, Sarah," John B shouted. "Come on," he grabbed my hand.

I didn't want to go. The place was burning.

"Shit," he cussed, as he climbed down a few steps of the ladder.

I looked down to see Sarah hanging her head low, with his hood on.

I took in a large breath of air, and practically threw myself down the ladder, squinting my eyes from the flames. Luckily, the back exit was only steps away from us. When John B caught me in his arms, I tried to look for Sarah, but we were already rushing out.

And then soon, we were running out onto the grass, hand in hand, as the officers shouted, and the church burned behind us. The last thing I heard, was Sarah calling her own name, and all the shouting stopped in a blink.

✰༄✰

thank you so much for

10k votes, that's insane.

𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 !!