The Death Thief

Apathetic Savior

Once in the hay field, I fell to my knees and crawled through the brush. A slower process, but it afforded me far more cover than if I continued my hobbled limp.

Every now and then I made a turn, more out of a desire to leave the field than to elude my pursuers. The tall grass tickled my skin and the blooming buds burst with pollen whenever I brushed against them. Not only that, but I grew more light headed with every drop of blood that soaked into my torn jeans or dripped over the fingers that still clutched my injured side. The fragrant grasses mixed with my dwindling consciousness had me crawling in dizzy circles. Eventually, I gave in and pulled myself back up on my feet.

The change in position nearly returned me to the ground, my knees buckling and my stomach twisting with my uneasy equilibrium. However, in the light of the nearly full moon, I caught sight of dark figures working a field not far from the one I found myself in. Though, I was uncertain why anyone would be out working that late, I was too close to fainting to care. I stumbled forward, trudging through the thick grass with as much speed as I could manage.

I came across another wood post fence and this time I more fell over it rather than climbed. My ragged body rolled across the freshly tilled field, the noise drawing the attention of the farmhands.

"Hello," I called, lurching myself up with the same effortless ease as a limp marionette. "Can someone please get me into town? I need to see a doctor."

Once upon my feet, I looked around to find a few farmhands working machines that I assumed were plowing and seeding the field. It was hard to see, even in the total embrace of the bright moon, and I knew as much about farming as I did about vampires. Whatever machinery they were working was thankfully brought to a stop and the farmhands hopped down and headed towards me. At that point I should have sighed with relief, but their quiet march sent a ripple up my spine and soon I was casting my gaze elsewhere, thankful to find a roadway not far from where I stood.

"Can any of you drive me to town?" I asked again, my feet taking a few cautious steps towards the road. "If not, can you at least tell me which way I should follow the road?"

At that point the farmhands had gotten close enough for me to identify them as three men and a woman. They ranged in height and weight, but they all slouched through the dark like a cat slinks towards its prey. I even caught them sniffing the air which was often accompanied by an animal-like growl.

"I'll just hit the road then," I mumbled, my retreat no longer hesitant steps. "Hopefully I'll catch someone passing by. Thank you."

I turned to face the street fully, my progress stiff but hurried, my pace increasing as the sound of pursuit hit my ears. As my speed quickened, so did the the thuds of their booted feet against the soft soil. Problem was, I had a limit on how fast I could run, while they seemed to only pick up more steam. I hobbled forward, each step a threat to send me face first into the dirt, but it just wasn't fast enough. With only a few paces left between me and the wooden fence bordering the roadway, a raspy cry cut through the night before a body slammed into my back.

My attacker knelt into my spine, pinning me to the ground. The hand that had held the throbbing wound on my side was now trapped beneath me and digging into my stomach, while my free hand was snatched away by a hand far too small to belong to a man. Apparently the female farmer was swifter than her comrades, but not by much. With my ear pressed against the ground, each one of their heavy footfalls sounded like thunder.

"Share," growled a voice, I assumed to be masculine, though it was hard to tell with the beastly timbre within it.

"I got her first," hissed a feminine voice, whose proximity to my ear confirmed my theories on who had landed me on the ground.