UNBREATHABLE by Hafsah Laziaf

dreaming.”
    I turn with a sigh and walk past her, clenching my teeth when the sound of her laugh grates on my nerves.
    And because of that, neither of us is prepared when four figures jump from either side of the intersecting hall.
    “Now we're talking.” In a flash, Dena's machete is in her hand, her back to me. I pull my daggers into either hand, an odd calm settling over me.
    Dena and Gage were right—the Jute are all unnervingly beautiful. Enough to distract you. These men have silky scraps of cloth tied around their mouths and noses. Louen, I realize, to lessen the absorption of oxygen. Slate said Jute aren't harmed with one breath as humans are, but oxygen is dangerous nonetheless. Don’t they realize the air in the Tower isn’t oxygen? Maybe it’s a precaution, maybe there’s a way for the Chancellors to allow oxygen to work in here.
    The Jute to my right lunges. He’s fast, but I’m faster. I dart to the side as another Jute swipes a kick to my legs and I barely leap out of the way. I throw a kick at the burlier one, and when he bends over with a gasp, I whack the back of his head with the hilt of my dagger. He falls with a groan, temporarily unconscious.
    A lean arm wraps around my neck. The Jute chuckles in my ear and drags me back. My heels drag helplessly along the smooth ground. I dig my nails into his flesh, but I’m nothing against his brute strength. He swiftly shoves me against the wall, pressing a blade against my back. He releases my neck and I gasp desperately for air.
    “Only cowards… kill… from behind,” I wheeze. He chuckles.
    I gather as much strength as I can muster and shove him off me. Duck and swerve. I drop one dagger and use both hands to drive the length of my other one deep into his chest. Surprise flickers across his face, widens his gold eyes. There’s a clatter as his knife drops to the ground. He sputters and drops to his knees, then onto his back. Blood trickles between his fingers clawing at his chest. I watch as the life slowly leaves his eyes.
    His chest stops moving. His eyes stop seeing.
    I sink to the ground. The dead Jute’s white shirt is soaked in dark blood, more pouring from around the dagger still in him. The dagger with my name written on its hilt, like some disgusting joke.
    I killed him. Who am I to take the life of another person? Julian taught me so much. But not this. Someone shuffles behind me. Dena struggles in front of me.
    But I hear nothing. See nothing. Feel nothing.
    I killed someone.
    Sharp pain explodes in my back and I cry out. I'm thrown flat on my stomach and my limbs scream when an immovable weight collapses on me.
    My chest heaves. I struggle to breathe. I don't have my daggers. One is by the wall feet away, the other in the body of a corpse. I try to wiggle free, but the pain only increases. The bones in my back crunch beneath what feels like a boot and my lips part in a silent scream. I hear the swoosh of an unsheathing blade.
    “She may need you alive, but she didn't say all in one piece,” the Jute hisses.
    And he falls on me.
    I
    Can't
    Breathe.
     
     

 
    I wheeze and cough. Breathing feels like pushing a boulder with all my weight.
    Dena laughs at me. I roll my head against the wall and look away.
    “You're good for nothing,” she says. I bite my lip against the angry, meaningless words waiting on my tongue.
    I didn't ask her to save me. Then again, I would have died if it weren’t for her. Died because a boulder of a Jute fell on me. I almost laugh.
    “Are you done yet? I don't have time for this crap.”
    “Will you ever shut up?” I stand and rub the back of my hand along my ribs with a wince. I pick up my daggers. I’m grateful that she cleaned them, but I’m not ready to thank her for it.
    “I'm not the one who expects half the human race to die for her.” Her voice is bitter. She starts walking and I don't bother with a comeback.
    I'm not that girl either.
    I don't expect anyone to die for me.
    But Earth. The