Ruby Shadows

Ruby

Without the watchful eye of the guards, my disappearance was sure to go unnoticed for hours, or at least until shift change when the next bout of patrol made their rounds. But until then, I had just enough time to get as far away from Emerald as possible no matter the direction I ran. I just had to keep running.

I kept the gears in my legs from giving out as I continued down a nonexistent path in the middle of the New York wilderness. The only tracks in the ground were mine as I created them, and even then, not a soul could track me once I got far enough – my lack of a scent provided a shield over my form as I moved. The soft ground went hard the longer I traveled. Stray twigs on the path and jutting rocks scratched up my feet. They poked into the soft flesh on the underside of my toes but I fought through the stabbing pain. My stomach grumbled in hunger – starvation kicked in hours ago but even though the wrenching pain refused to quit, I knew any ounce of food I swallowed would bubble back up and out in a bile-fueled rage, scratching and prodding at the soft tissue inside my throat. I had to keep going. I couldn't stop. I lost my freedom twice, I wasn't about to let it go again.

The earth beneath me rumbled with my quaking steps. Dirt kicked up in my wake and I dared not look back toward the nearly unidentifiable path I created. Despite the unnerving pain in the soles of my feet with each piece of debris I crushed under my weight, I kept my feet moving. The last time I stopped prematurely, Emerald captured me as their prisoner – demanding answers from me I didn't have.

The surrounding forest blurred past my narrow plane of sight as I ran, dodging any obstacle I came across. My shoulders, burdened and sliced open from rogue branches and spiked leaves, cried out from the sticky, cold fingers of the early morning air. I saw the horizon, the coming sun awakening from its slumber. I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to face the thing Peter convinced me had a vendetta to destroy me if I ever met it. I wasn't ready to step out and allow the rays to burn me alive until I was nothing but a pile of ashes on the forest floor, waiting to be blown away by the strongest wind sent by Peter himself. I needed to find shelter, and fast. From what the Mercenary told me, the sun rose quickly into the surrounding sky leaving me with no more than a half-hour before my body would combust into an inferno of sin. I knew not of my fate but what I did know was that I was not going to die today. I planned to survive until sundown; I had to survive until my body cared no more, until I couldn't hold myself up any longer. Giving up meant Peter won. He'd won so many times already.

I slowed to a jog as a clearing came into view. Even though the sun hadn't quite reached the tops of the trees, I saw a field amassed with wildflowers, their blooms welcoming and warm, careful not to frighten travelers. Blue and purple petals stretched toward the sky like children playing in a yard, yearning for the breeze to pick them up and pollinate across the expansive field. Frail branches blocked my view of the surrounding area but I knew these trees. I knew the dirt underneath my bare toes and the fallen leaves upon the ground. They were familiar yet foreign, different from when I was here last but still family. The gentle breeze blew pollen through my hair, the scents of autumn turning winter welcomed me in its embrace. I knew this place. I had been here once before, longer than a day but my time here was cut short by fate – by angry Lycans. By blood and fear crawling to the surface, screaming as my entire family was wiped out in a matter of hours.