Survival

Prologue

*Copyright of 2018 Jesunbo_fa*

No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise without the prior permission of the author.

Her body felt like it was wearing out, but her mind told her to keep running. Her clothes were torn and she had lost her shoes, but she didn't care. She was running in long strides, putting one bloody foot in front of the other.

She knew she had to get out of that Godforsaken place, but the trees were all around her. Blocking her path, and rendering her good sense of direction useless.

The leaves were rustling in the midnight breeze. The canopy created by the overhanging branches blocked out the moonlight, giving the forest, from within, an almost pitch black appearance.

All she could do was run. There had to be some way to get out of here. She had to find a way to get help. She ran until she burst into a clearing in the forest. This is where she had seen it.

Wasn't it?

She'd been running for so long, she couldn't tell. But the cabin had been around here. The dark just made it impossible to tell.

Then she heard it.

The sound of twigs snapping overhead added to the brief rustling of the trees nearby, but this wasn't a cool breeze. It was a sign of movement. It was at that moment that she realized that the moonlight coming through the break in the canopy, left her exposed to light. Easily seen by her assailant.

Then she finally saw it. A glint of light against metal in the trees. She knew her assailant wasn't on the ground, but above her, in the trees, with clear enough sight to take her out. The only option was to make a break for it.

And she did.

She began to run through the maze of trees again. Barely able to control her movement in the rough and uneven terrain. She was on the verge of giving out, then, thankfully, she spotted the log cabin she'd seen earlier in the day. She ran to the door, pleased to find it open, and entered the it.

She knew very well that the man could find her here, but before he did, she would look for a communications device, or at least she could find some sort of weapon.

Then she realized why the door wasn't locked. It had no lock. She doubted a door would stop her assailant anyway, but,at the very least, that would have stalled him.

She wondered if this was how the kids ran and hid from him. The ones back at the graveyard near the beach where she'd seen their corpses. Fresh corpses. Some of whom she recognized from the newsreel she'd been seeing all week. The missing kids.

She had seen them a few weeks ago. They were in their teens. They were playing a game of soccer. They were happy kids. They reminded her too much of her own kids. Jayden and Mia. She and her husband Noah, had been married for 13 years now, and their kids were the best thing that had happened to them.

No. She would not think of that. Not now.

She shook her head, as if to knock herself out of whatever trance she was in. She had priorities, now was not the time to daydream, and priority number one, was finding a means of communication, then, a weapon.

She couldn't get distracted now.

She was barrelling through the drawers in the makeshift bedroom, there wasn't even a door leading into it. There was just a small arch. There didn't seem to be any phones or radios, so, she began to seek out a weapon.

She dashed into the kitchen. She needed to find a knife at least. No use being completely unarmed just because she was looking for a sniper rifle, right? She found a sharp cleaver, and set out to look for a long-ranged weapon that she could use to cap this guy. Preferably a shotgun, which was the most common weapon housed in places like this.

Before she could move a few feet, she caught a glimpse of movement through the window. Well, this knife will have to do. She readied herself for the imminent attack, testing the weight and balance of the knife, and as expected, the front door burst open.

Her assailant came through with a sinister grin on his face. This guy, who was probably an escapee from an asylum or something, wasn't letting up. It would be much easier if she had a gun, luckily, her assailant didn't have one either, but he had a sledgehammer in each hand. Well, this just got significantly harder.

Seeing the cleaver in her hand, her assailant was more cautious. They circled the small living room, sizing each other up and, twirling their weapons.

Without warning, her attacker brought the sledgehammer in his right hand down, and with barely enough time to react, she parried the blow. Unfortunately, surprised by the speed of her attacker, she had completely forgotten about the second sledgehammer in his left hand which now took her in the side.

She now felt blood seeping through her clothes from the injury. It didn't seem to be gushing, which could only be a miracle, but it was getting numb. Her movement slowed and he seemed to be even more encouraged to press forward.

He continued his attack with a series of blows with the sledgehammers, but she was able to dodge and weave through the attacks and when he paused to gather himself, she saw an opening. She used this half-second moment of respite to strike an upward blow to his body, as he recovered.

Stunned, he pulled back from her, now furious, but his body seemed to be wavering. There was blood dripping from his shirt an indication that she had hit home, but it appeared that without a moment's notice, he would strike again.

She stayed on guard, but it wasn't enough. With lightning speed, he barreled her down again, but this time, he used the butt of his weapon to strike, hitting her square in the face.

The world was a blur. She felt herself hit the floorboards with a thud. Her hair was matted with blood, and her already torn blouse was soaked and red. Barely aware of what was going on, she tried to get up, but failed horribly.

She now saw that her assailant was standing above her. In a last-ditch effort, she tried to bring the cleaver up to take out his legs from under him, but he saw the attack coming from a mile away, and knocked the weapon out of her hand.

He grabbed a handful of her hair, pulled her up and smashed her head on the floor. Seeing that these were most likely her final moments, she said a small prayer, begging God to keep her family safe.

He then came around her and picked the cleaver, holding it up to her neck.The cold metal was biting into her flesh and she could feel a little blood trickling down her neck, but before he ended it, he whispered, "Your family is next."

He then drew the sharp blade across her neck forcing it deep enough to cut her jugular vein and both carotid arteries.

The last thing she felt was the blood flowing out of her neck, as the moonlight shone through the door.

*Thank you for reading, and feel free to hit that star, comment and share ;)*