6 Hours Away Mga Nobela at Kwento

Six months was enough for me! ...

his hand pushing the hair back from my face. My chest heaves, I focus on his breathing, trying to mimick him. Aurora working on our heart beat, trying to slow it to normal. "That's it" he says proudly. "How long do they have?" I force myself to ask; scared of the answer. He looks down at my hand, his own heart picking up. "Nathanial?" I push, his silence killing me. "She left around 4 hours ago, her estimation then was 24-36 hours" his eyes meeting mine. I try not to panic, but fail. My lungs feel like I can't get any air, "No" I sob. I feel robbed.

"When do we leave?" "Sunset. Four hours."

If she was still with the men, that means it was so much more than I even want to imagine. We all need to be patient with her…. “Let’s gather supplies,” Kane says, looking at Loki and Finn, “and we will head that way.” “How far away is it?” I ask and Kane looks at Finn. “About 8 hours from here by shift,” he says and sigh sadly as Loki smiles. “Don’t worry. You can still ride with me,” he winks and I blush, but Kane quickly changes the subject. “8 hours so we will there by night fall.”

24 hours! You have got to be kidding me.

You have thirty-six hours to reach the Final Destination. Any candidate who takes longer than that will not pass. We wish you the best of luck. I glance through the note one more time, my mind coming fully back to me now as adrenaline starts to pump through my veins. Once I’m sure that I’ve committed it all to memory, I crumple it and toss it into the corner of the box, sorting quickly through my supplies as I glance around the forest, eager to get on the move.

Content Advisory: Graphic descriptions of injury and death. Reader discretion is advised. ⊰ Marcel ⊱ Six hours. It’s been six hours since the ambush, six hours since the love of my life was in harm's way and I lost one of my most loyal men. I feel like I’ve aged a decade in the span of a few hours, and even as Mercy lays upstairs, safely tucked in our bed, I can’t get past this sickening feeling in my gut that something else is going on. That the attack on Mercy is only a fraction of the worst to come.

When he shakes his head no, it aches for my mate. “Our flight today is about ten hours.” Our pilot Mitch says before he tells us before he goes into the cockpit. “I’m sure you’re all in a hurry to get home. I need to get back to my mate and our new pup too, so I’ll make it as fast as possible.” “How many minutes is that?” Ghost asks. “Six hundred.” “Oh.” He sits and thinks for a moment. “How many seconds is that?” “Umm, thirty-six thousand.” “I can count that high. I’ve counted higher.”

"A safe house I set up years ago that Father doesn't know about. It's remote, secure, and stocked with supplies. We can stay there while we figure out what to do next." "Okay," I agreed. "How far is it?" "Six-hour drive, maybe seven." He checked his phone. "We should leave within the hour." We packed quickly, and I tried not to think about how everything I owned now fit into a single duffel bag. Dimitri checked us out while I waited by the motorcycle, and then we were on the road again. The hours passed in a blur of changing landscapes—city giving way to suburbs, suburbs to rural farmland, farmland to dense forest.

Six hours to prove my legacy wasn't a mistake. Six hours to save everything. Or lose it all. THE END