@TryToDoItWrite
How does this stack up on the actual tension building? Do you feel any anticipation to the moment of attack?
Relevant information: My narrator, Camille Duke, is a spy who is working as a translator for the Kedoreten. She's actually on the Anderean's side. Fenin doesn't know whether to trust her or not.
We’d been driving for a long time when I noticed that the sun was setting. As it crept downwards towards the horizon behind us and daylight faded, the tension in the truck increased. Soldiers shifted in their seats and shot glances towards the front of the truck. The driver’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.
Even Fenin seemed disturbed. “Why are we still driving?” he asked sharply.
I didn’t reply. Instead I whispered to the soldier next to me, “Hellions don’t come out until dark, right?”
“Depends on how hungry they are,” he replied darkly.
He and I both then looked at the back of the captain’s head. He was sitting next to the driver. He looked just as tense as the rest of us.
Finally, the driver said, “Captain, we won’t make it to the gate today. Not before nightfall.”
“Ridiculous.” The captain checked his watch. “We have light until 20:30.”
“Captain, sir, I don’t think—”
“That’s right, private. You don’t think.” The captain’s tone was acid. “You follow orders.” The Captain barked loud enough for everyone to hear and wince, “We have orders to bring this highly dangerous prisoner to the Cap before the end of the day. That's an order from the director himself. I’m sure as hell going to deliver.”
I swallowed. I didn’t know how much further it was to our destination, but I hoped it was just over the next hill. But when we reached the top, the only thing we could see was the next hill and the valley of shadow separating us from it. A chill prickled over the back of my neck as I looked down into the darkness.
Through gritted teeth, Fenin said, “Hells. We’re all going to die.”
“No, we won’t,” I said. “We’ll reach the Capital in a few minutes. It’ll be fine.”
“It’s too late. They’ve heard us. ”
“It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine.”
“Stop saying that,” he hissed. The muscles and tendons in his arms tensed. He strained slightly against the chains binding his hands and legs.
Real fear shot through me. Maybe it was time to panic if Fenin, who had likely lived outside city walls before, was afraid. According to what I’ve heard in stories about the creatures, once hellions wake at night, they hunt without stopping. Anything moving becomes a target—the louder we were, the more dead we’d be.
I stood up, grabbing for a handhold as the truck hit another pothole.
“Captain! We need to stop the truck!”
The soldier to the side of me tried to pull me down but I swatted his hand away and moved closer to the Captain.
“Duke! Sit down!”
“I’m sorry, sir, but we need to stop. The prisoner says that it might already be too late.”
“The hell I care what the prisoner says. We get to the Cap today.”
I grabbed the back of the Captain’s seat. “You’re not going to listen to the native? The Anderean? He’s probably spent most of his life avoiding hellions outside of the walls. He's scared and we should be too!”
“Duke! I’m warning you—”
“Hellions hunt with their ears above anything else. Our only chance is to—”
The Captain turned around in his seat and roared, “Why the hell is she still standing here?”
The soldiers had been watching our exchange frozen in awe and horror. Now two of them sprang to action and wrenched me down onto the bench. I hissed in pain at their grip.
“Ow. I get it. I get it.” I said, glaring at them and rubbing my shoulder.
Fenin was frowning at me.
I frowned back. “If you’re scared, we all should be,” I said. I don’t know why I felt the need to defend myself, since he was only frowning.
The sky behind us was a brilliant painting of orange and red and pink, but ahead, the beginnings of true darkness.
“Please,” I muttered under my breath in Anderean. “Stop the truck. Stop it now.”
That’s when we heard it—the first hellion cry. Its long, drawn out wail reverberated through the hills and set my teeth on edge. It was almost mournful.
I gasped, whipping around to stare through the front windshield into the gathering dark.
The driver looked at the Captain for direction. “Sir? Should we—?”
“Keep going.” The Captain sat ridged in his chair.
Fenin’s voice was tight with anger. “Why aren’t we stopping?”
“He just said to keep going…” I couldn’t say much else. Something cold and heavy was pressed down on my chest.
“The idiots. The goddamn idiots.” Fenin glared at the cuffs that surrounded his hands and wrists, straining against them, testing their strength.
The soldier next to him hit him hard in the side with the end of his rifle. Another soldier, who must have been a lieutenant given the authority in his voice, said, “If the prisoner attempts to escape, we have orders to shoot to kill. Tell him that, translator.”
“Fenin—”
Another hellion cry interrupted me, this one louder and longer. A stab of fear as cold as ice struck me.
The driver accelerated as we crested another hill. The bumps and holes jolted even more as we picked up speed.
“Do they realize,” Fenin hissed, “that we can’t outrun them?”
“Fenin, please don’t try to escape. They’ll kill you.”
He laughed in disbelief. “You honestly think a bullet will kill me in this situation?”
“I think you’d have a better chance against the hells without a bullet killing you.”
The Captain barked, “Stop babbling in Anderean, Duke. I don’t care what the prisoner claims to know about hellions.”
“Sir—,” I began.
The driver spoke over me. “I can see two of them, cresting the hills behind us. They’re about two miles out.”
“Sir! I need to ask him—”
“Actually,” he shouted, “shut your trap in every language! You’re getting on my last nerve.”
I opened my mouth, then thought better. The Captain could order me back to Eteri or worse if I continued to undermine him.
Fenin seemed to understand and didn’t try to talk to me again. He shot me a questioning look instead.
I shook my head.
The truck’s occupants sat in tense silence as another hill flew under us. The driver hadn’t mentioned seeing another hellion. After a minute of only the sound of dirt and rocks under the tires, the lieutenant said tentatively, “Maybe they’ve found different prey.”
I kept waiting for the next hellion cry to prove the lieutenant wrong, flinching at the shape of every tree ahead of us.
“This is bad,” Fenin muttered. “This is really bad.”
I leaned forward so that the Captain could not hear. “What is it?”
“Hells only go silent on a hunt for one reason.”
My heart sank. “You mean—”
It was as we crested the next hill that the first hellion attacked. One second, all was dead quiet—the next, there was an awful screeching sound and a thunk of impact as the creature landed on top of the truck.
I screamed.
