It's night when I wake up, and I'm feeling relatively good again. I'm very hungry and my head is a lot clearer than it was...whenever I got back from my escape. It might have been hours, or maybe it's been days. I don't know. I sit up tentatively, afraid that my head will begin to pound and the room will spin again. Instead, my head is pain-free and the room remains where it should be. Speaking of which, I've been moved. No more stark white walls and bright lights. I believe I am in a guest room. It doesn't smell distinctly male like Paul's did.
I stand up, relieved to feel that my ankle is healed too. Whatever medicine I was on definitely worked; I feel better than I did before I was captured. The room I'm in is dark except for the small amount of moonlight filtering through a cluster of trees. A quick look around reveals nothing odd or out of the ordinary; just a regular guest room for a regular guest.
I pat the pockets of my jacket, disappointed that the feminine products are missing. So are my boots, instead replaced by some black running shoes with bouncy soles. They must've figured out that I store most of my weapons in them. Quickly, I steal into the bathroom and snag some more feminine hygiene products, stashing them in my jacket pockets once again. After this is done, I stand before the door to prepare myself for some fighting. They've got to have guards standing outside of it; they'd be stupid not to. I swallow hard once before stepping forward and slowly turning the knob, feeling excited whenever it turns all the way before realizing that it's not moving the door. There's an outside deadbolt in place; there's no way I could get through this thing.
I sigh in defeat and go sit on the bed, pressing my lips together tightly. If I'm under lock and key like this all the time there's no way I'll be able to escape. My only other option at this point would be the window, and Paul already told me it's plexiglass. No way I can get through that. Unless...
My head shoots up, and I immediately begin patting around the bra I am wearing to try and find my cleverly concealed weapon. If they found this, I truly am out of options. With a huge wave of excitement and relief, my fingers ghost over a nondescript lump on the side of my bra. I begin to run over it, feeling for the minuscule opening that the weapon has to be forced through. After a moment of pushing and prodding, I am finally rewarded with a tiny pocket knife.
A glance around the room one more time in a quick three-sixty reassures me that nobody is here, preparing to pounce at any moment. I grip the tiny knife in my hand and walk over to the window, feeling around the edge of it for a seam in the wood. When I find it, I immediately shove my knife into and begin to work the wood easily with it. It pops the seal around the window loose quickly, and once that is done I begin to cut and saw around the corners of the window. It's slow going, but once I get one corner free the rest is easy.
It takes about twenty minutes to take out the window alone, never mind the screens. There are two in my way; one of them tears away easily but the other must've been made of steel. It wouldn't give for anything, so I was forced to cut it out of the frame as well. Once everything is leaned over against the side of the bed, I peek out the window and see one lone guard all the way at the corner of the house. It's not a long drop; this room is only on the first story. I climb out of my window lithely, creeping alongside the house to remain unseen.
The guard is an easy target. His eyes are heavy with sleep and his posture is stooped. He doesn't even yell whenever I slit his throat; he just falls to the ground with a muffled thump. I stare down at the body, waiting for it to melt into sand or clay like they usually do. Instead, this man's carnage stays. It must be different whenever their forms aren't the same. Wolves turn to sand and man stays a corpse. Shrugging, I pocket my little knife and take off towards the trees. I don't bother with concealment now; I just want to get home. At the pace I've set myself, I can go a couple hours without stopping for a break.
One of the great things about hunter training is that we are nearly ran to death. We start out at two miles and up it by one every week. By week twenty about half the class has dropped out to become a soldier instead. There's only around sixty of us that are full-fledged hunters in each regement; the rest are soldiers. I mean sure, soldiers sometimes group together and go hunt one wolf, but it's nothing like a lone hunter in the woods. We are the best of the best; nothing gets by us.
By the time I have to stop the moon has set and it's grown darker. Within the trees, it's close to pitch-black. I manage to make out limbs and bushes before I hit them, so I keep on going through the woods. Once I get my breath back I begin to slink through the underbrush quietly, listening closely for anything around me. The harrowing sound of a screech owl pierces the night, making me speed up my movements for the duration that it echoes around the trees. It covers up the sound of me moving briefly, allowing me to cover more ground. I continue on this slow, sneaking pace for a while, making sure to listen as best I can for anything that is a probable threat.
After about twenty more minutes, I begin to get this sense of foreboding. Like I can tell something is about to happen...something bad. After a few minutes of this, I recognize the feeling. I am being watched, stalked even. If I listen closely I can hear the soft footsteps of something following me. They're little ways off, back and to my right, though I can't tell if they're dangerous or not. Occasionally there will be the odd domestic dog that gets curious and decides to follow us on a hunt, but something tells me by the pattern of moving that this thing has it's not just curious. I am its prey.
This thing stalks me until the sun rises, and then it's presence vanishes. This leaves me uneasy; if something is following you and it all of a sudden stops, it's usually preparing for an attack. And attack it does. Minutes later I hear the thumping of feet behind me accompanied by heavy breathing. I spin around, expecting a normal predator and am met with the black eyes of a massive wolf. I lurch to the side, letting out a startled shout whenever it whooshes by me. I stab at it with my knife, managing to leave a huge cut down the length of its spine. The creature yowls, contorting and turning its limbs all akimbo before folding in on itself. I launch myself towards it, stabbing it several times in the neck while it shifts. The entire body beneath me shudders and then stills, a gruesome mix of man and wolf frozen in time. I sneer down at the carcass, stepping over it and moving back into a steady jog.
That wolf attacking definitely took more time than I have available; I know Paul has to be tracking me. Luckily I've been changed out of Brin's clothes, so they can't track her scent. These just smell like the detergent the pack uses. Plus, without my boots as a distinct tracking mark, it'll be hard to tell where I have been. These shoes don't leave the same heavy indent that my hunting boots do.
I jog for another good two hours before the howls start up. Fear licks its way up my spine, making my chest feel tight. Adrenaline rushes through my veins, and I speed up my pace unconsciously. They have found my scent. I've caught another scent, though. This one is one of smoke and food and fresh linens hanging out on the line. This one is the smell of my home; of the community behind the Wall.
It's funny that something that once felt like a prison, like somewhere I was stuck at rather than home, becomes so comforting compared to actual imprisonment. Because now, I can't wait to return to the humdrum of day to day living. I can't wait to see my family, I can't wait to go to the market or argue with my siblings. I just want to be home.
My discovery spurs my movements on. I can almost taste my freedom; the prospect of reaching my family lifts a weight off my shoulders that I didn't know I was carrying. I take a deep breath, wanting to shout but know it'll inform them of my presence, and speed up until I'm running at a full-on sprint. I cross more ground like this, but I am louder which is a definite disadvantage. I hear the howls again, and this time they're closer. Like miles closer. I feel my throat begin to close up as the fear that had originally gripped my chest now clutches at my neck and head. It makes me dizzy.
Now it's like my body has been put on autopilot; I duck beneath limbs and swerve around trees without even thinking. The only thing on my mind right now is home. The trees around me begin to thin out and the underbrush begins to disappear. I surprise myself by giving a victorious yelp upon seeing the massive concrete Wall looming over me. After traveling all night and morning I'm happy that my legs have long since gone numb from running so much instead of hurting; all I can feel now is elation at the sight of my home.
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AN:
This is late and I am SO SORRY. College is absolutely horrendous this time of year—like the last lap of Mariokart #iykyk—and I completely forgot to upload. Because of that, I will be doing a double upload to make up for it (and also because this chapter is very short sorry).
The next upload will come next Monday, April 18th!! And I promise I'll keep that one LOOOOL.
As always please remember to interact with this story!!!
Lots of love to you guys and I hope you have a wonderful day/afternoon/night!
Your fav rude author,
A