Hell On Heels

In the End

Murder. Laying in the back seat with a stolen pillow and blanket, I was planning murder and not the simple type like a bullet or knife. No, I'm thinking into wood chipper feet first. I shoot another glare at Anthony for putting me in this situation. One second I'm freezing and the next I'm sitting in hell's inferno.  My body is either fighting this claim or punishing me for not finishing it; I'm leaning towards the punishment. The mark Anthony placed on me would fade in time, but these effects would take it's tole on my body as it begins to fade. I prayed it was soon. 

"Where are we going now?" James asks quietly. Even as he whispers. my head pounds.

"North, I believe there is one small pack left there. If they are still there, I'm going to ask of their assistance. If not, we'll be heading home because there is nothing else we can do." He mutters as I clinch my teeth together to keep from snapping. 

'Of course there are things we can do!' I want to scream, but in reality there is nothing logical that we can do that won't risk so many lives. I can feel the rogue animal in me rising up to take the challenge Brian is leaving on the table. 

 I stare out the window at the moon, we had been riding all day today and yesterday. We have come to the conclusion, in our often lengthy discussions, that the small packs that Brian had come in contact with were taken over, or killed, but he had left the larger ones alone from fear or lack of strength. If he keeps picking up the smaller packs he may have enough numbers to rival the larger ones. He needs to be stopped before that happens, I remind myself.  There is no telling how big his numbers are now, but there hasn't been any reports about his uprising against a large pack. Since all of the larger packs are recognized and have larger territories, we would know if he had been on any of that land, but so far he had been taking packs from No Man's Land, or unclaimed territory. 

Growing up with Brian, I blame myself for not realizing that this would happen one day. Could have saved a lot of people if I had, I hang my head as the image of Maree smiling in my mind flashes before my eyes. In reality, I know there was nothing I could have done to save her. He has been planning her murder since we left; again that is something I blame myself for. Maybe I could have stopped this by never leaving, but Maree and I would not have had those three years away from the Pack and the pressures we inherited when we were born. The worst part is that people are dying because of a decision I made to save myself from becoming what I feared. 

Glancing at the shadowed scenery pass by, the hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up. The animal in me began to shake. I threw the blanket off my lap and sat up. My eyes cut between the windows on my sides and my front; panic starts to lick at my heel like flames.

"Something is going to happen." I stated. James turned in his seat and Anthony looked at me through the rear view mirror. "Something is wrong." 

"What do you mean?" James asked reaching for his gun in the glove compartment. 

"I don't know." I muttered, "Anthony pull over."  I couldn't see them, but the rogue in me could feel them. Rogues running on both sides of the road. How they were running through the densely wooded area, I have no idea,  but they were doing it and they were keeping up with us. 

He sighed, "Amy, we are in the middle of nowhere, I'm not pulling over."

I caught his eye in the rear view mirror, "If you don't pull over, they are going to ram us off the road." My voice shook with fear.

He looked confused, "Who? Why do you think someone is going to do that?" I closed my eyes and prayed that I didn't hear the SUV roar a little louder as Anthony pressed the gas. 

I opened my eyes slowly and turned my head to the window at my left. There they were. Patches of fur matted with their own blood, or so I hoped. They were as grotesque as I remember, Black eyes reflecting the little light of the moon. Blood fell in ringlets down to their malformed feet and it was almost as if they were smiling. Brian wasn't with the five that were charging for the car on their hind legs.  No words came out of my mouth, I froze. My mind was blank, but the feeling of Death breathing down my shoulder was there. I shivered as they made impact with the car. 

The doors on the left side caved in as I was thrown back. I was still looking at their faces through the cracked window; they were enjoying it. Smiling like faces with venom in their eyes. This was a game to them, killing.  In their faces, I could see the nightmares from children's dreams. 

The car screeched across the pavement as we slid towards the edge. As the tires met grass, the car began to tilt, my head slammed against the right window. Had I blacked out or if there was just no more light to see by, I didn't know. 

We began to turn, over and over again. My body slammed against the doors, ceiling and the seats. I silently begged to be knocked out, but that did not happen. The last roll was caught against the line of trees at the bottom of the hill. I managed to catch myself as the ceiling lined up with the trees. The final impact sent dread through me. Who was dead and who was alive?

Anthony's familiar groan filled my ears, at least he was alive, but there was silence from James. I tried to maneuver myself to see if he was alive. I was pinned between the backseat floorboard and the crushed car top. 

"Amy?" Anthony croaked. 

"I'm alive." I mutter, my voice not sounding like my own. "James?" 

There was a moment of silence and I heard him shuffle to see my best friend, "He's-" Anthony began, the high pitch screech of crushed metal met both of our ears. I looked up as Anthony was ripped from the car, cussing and moaning in pain. 

Frantically, I began to twist and pull in the attempt to get myself free. Once again the sound of caving metal met my ears. Panic set in and the attempts to move became more jerked. 

"Look who it is," His voice was laced with a lighthearted attitude and hate. "Amy, such a long time, no see." I looked up, Brian smirked down at me. He clearly hadn't bathed or eaten properly since the last time I had seen him, but he defiantly looked as evil and strong as ever. Looking at him, I couldn't help but see the little boy he used to be with little fat cheeks and mustard running down his face from a hotdog he was eating at a Pack celebration. He was no longer that boy. He's now a murderer and most likely my killer.  Fear struck me down, but my pride held me up.

"I suppose you're here to kill me," his smirk stretched, and I chuckled even in my fear, "You know I'm not going down without a fight." 

He laughed, "Wouldn't have it any other way." He smiled down at me, his teeth were yellowed with bits of red meat in them that I knew were not steak. 

"Good, because if I'm going down, I'm taking you with me." I said with conviction as I looked into his eyes. 

He chuckled again, "Prepare for failure." There were loud howls and growls around me. Reaching down into the car, he wrapped his fingers into my hair and with one yank he had pulled me out of the SUV and threw me to the hard, damp ground. 

I laid there on the ground with my fingers in my hair, scalp burning, and fear in my heart, and realized I probably should have put on my seat belt.