Last Crawl Before We Walk Novels & Stories

June “Step only where I step. The ground here is rocky and slippery. The last thing we want is you falling and getting hurt.” Caleb’s voice reaches me as he begins moving down the cliff. The narrow trail curves sharply along the rock, patches of loose gravel scattered across the surface. The wind sweeps up from the valley, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. He extends his hand behind him without looking back. Waiting for me to take it. For a second I just stare at it.

Nyra The soft creak of the hall door still echoes in my ears as we begin our descent down the shadowed, narrow staircase. Behind me, the closing of the stone resounds with a deep, clapping sound, as if the world itself were declaring: for a time, you must walk separate paths. Against my chest, the warmth of the two tiny bodies clings like a tingling weight, bound together and to me in a sling; with every step I take, their hearts stir, every small motion reminding me: they are here, they are alive, and now I must save every ounce of strength for them.

Or the baby. I have to go. I have to run. I turn around. I walk to the stairs. One step. Two steps. My legs feel like lead. My heart feels like it has stopped beating. I walk down the grand staircase. I walk across the foyer where we fought. I walk out the front door. The night air hits me. It is cold. Clean. I walk to the driveway. There are no guards. They are all inside, listening to their King scream in the bathroom.

I tried to speak… to do something, anything… to curse, to laugh, to fight but only a strangled breath came out. The figure turned, walking toward the exit as debris began to fall. The floor vibrated beneath my palms, cracks spiderwebbing across the concrete. The sound was deafening as the slow, merciless collapse of something heavy, ancient, inevitable filled the air. “No…” I growled, dragging myself forward. My fingers clawed at the floor, leaving smears of blood behind. “You don’t get to walk away—!” But my leg wouldn’t move. My strength was draining fast.

Try as we might, between the witch and I we can only keep sweeping them off for seconds at a time as though they somehow figured out how to cling on when they couldn’t before. One last shudder as it feels like the groaning roof might come down on top of us, a slight buckling of metal as Carmen and I sit transfixed to it above and whoosh. Travelling into the fogless air, over the protection line, swipes off the ones over our head with a dramatic flurry of bodies flying backwards. We accelerate with a last lurch of speed, skid, and crunch into the gravel in the front of the house with a noisy halt that sends us all falling forward to brace ourselves. We are only minutes before sunset and the t

The smell of the Cathedral. My father’s hand went limp. His eyes stayed open, staring at the ceiling he hadn't seen in fifteen years. I let out a howl that shook the foundations of the Glass Hall. I stood up. I looked at Caleb. "Can you walk?" Caleb pushed himself up. He stumbled. His legs shook. He looked at his hands—they were grey. Permanent. "I can crawl if I have to." "Then let's go." I grabbed Elara by the neck and dragged her toward the hidden passage.

Probably my neck. Don't think about it. I climbed over the balcony railing, my hands gripping the cold metal. The ledge was narrower than it looked. I put one foot on it. Then the other. My body pressed against the wall, my fingers finding cracks in the stone to grip. Don't look down. Keep your eyes forward. Just move. I slid my foot along the ledge. Inch by inch. The wind picked up, and I froze. Don't stop. Keep moving. Another step. Then another.

Claire walked over to me and paused in front of me. “I need to go take care of some work soon,” she informs me. “I will have a discussion with Mr. Renost before I leave.” I nod to confirm that I understood what she said and focus on my feet. My brain is still fuzzy and walking steadily is difficult, but I don’t want to be carried. I carefully place one foot in front of the other. One. Two. Three. I count my steps. On number eight I stumble. I go to take step number nine, thinking my mate didn’t notice, when I am once more lifted into the air.

Never did Dale thought, his teacher was this daunting. ‘Let’s get this done as soon as possible,’ She sighed upon the thought. They managed to finish walking around the third floor without opening any doors and without stumbling upon any naked entities. As Dale led the way, they reached another wooden stair going up, and they were about to take a step when a shout from behind broke the tottering silence. “Hey! Da--” “Run,” Dale, without delay, uttered and run up as Yuna did the same. Things were too fast that she did not even have the chance to take a glimpse of the person who shouted, but Dale acted like it was a sign of danger.

Upstairs, slow music drifts down the stairwell, some sickly-sweet ballad that has no business playing in a place condemned to collapse. I take the stairs first, knife low against my thigh, each creak of the old wood sounding like a gunshot in the quiet. Knox is right behind me, then Ghost, Blaze, and Glitch bringing up the rear. Nobody speaks. We don’t need words; we all know what we’re walking into, and we all know what happens when we find it.