Bleeding and limping, I perch on the next reasonably flat surface I can find, nursing my injuries. Wincing, I let out a hiss as my finger skates over the cuts and splinters scattered over my pads. They throb, and I let them dangle off the side of the tree trunk as my head leans back and my eyes close.
The sun heats my flesh, burning it to a crisp.
But I don’t care.
I’ll never complain of another sunburn for the rest of my days.
Facing back to the forest, I note a mountain range to my left. It extends down as far as the eye can see. Either around it or through it.
This is the one time I’ll allow myself to throw a pity party. To think about what my life has come to and where it might be leading. Part of me wonders if it’s worth it, all of this. To keepgoing into the unknown. Because the fact of the matter is, I have zero idea where I am or where I’m going. For all I know, I could be going around in a fucking circle right back into enemy territory.
If only I knew who the enemy was. Callum crosses my mind along with images of Kate’s lifeless body on the sterile room’s floor. Her blood poured out of her like the disgusting traitor I never thought she could be.
But if there is one thing I could take from this whole mess, it is that my whole life has been a lie, and nobody is who they seem.
I keep the tears at bay and let them fester in my eyes before wiping them clean, like they were never there at all.
Taking a deep breath, I reluctantly stand and regret it the second I do. Pain shoots up my legs, causing my knees to buckle and my hand to shoot out to the log for support. My gaze bounces between the rocky mountains and the trees lining their outskirts, weighing my options.
Which is the lesser of two evils?
My head hangs with my decision, and I push off the wood, letting the pain seep into the depths of my mind and continue on into the unforgiving woods.
Mist and fog mix in the air. Crows squawk above as they circle, and from the godsawful smell, I can only imagine there’s a carcass somewhere near. The sun is void, no beams of heat, and the chill reminds me of the same from last night.
No signs of running water. I’m berating myself for not drinking more when I had the chance. The breeze licks across my exposed limbs, goosebumps rising at the intrusion. It’s at this moment I’m starting to rethink my decision.
But I can’t backtrack.
For all I know, there are guards not too far behind, and I’m praying they follow the path of least resistance, thinking that’s the way I would have gone.
I’m grateful the ground has evened out, reminding me of the trails I used to run. The crows seem to have taken a liking to me. They haven’t left my side, constantly flying overhead. Part of me is suspicious, thinking they could be spies for whoever, but that would be silly. Right? Wow, I’m really losing it.
Trudging along the beaten path, I almost relent and set up camp for the night, having seen no sign of civilization all day. However, a nagging voice coaxes me to keep going, and no matter how much my body objects, I listen.
And I’m so glad I do, because over this hill, down the way, lies a house. And a barn. An old rustic, red barn that promises warmth and safety.
Slinking down the side of the hill, my gaze wanders in search of signs of life. Cows graze the grass in the pastures while horses mule their way around. With the daylight nowhere in sight, I make my move and barrel toward the awaiting barn door.
Instantly, the heat encompasses me. I bypass the horses in the stalls lining the wall, each one staring at me with curiosity.
One sticks its head out so far I almost smack right into its cheek. “Hey there, buddy.” My voice is barely audible, but the horse’s eyes track my movements as I side-step around its muzzle. The horse is jet black with stunning arctic-blue eyes. Its mane hangs freely down its neck, and I can’t help but run my hand over the bridge of its nose.
“You’re very beautiful,” I comment. And it could be from lack of food and water, clearly hallucinating, but the horse leans into my touch.
Peering around the big animal, the stall is quite roomy, noting the people who own the magnificent creature have just cleaned out the pen. “Would you mind a roommate for the night?” As if it understands me, the stallion backs away, like it’s inviting me in. Taking the hint, I unlock the gate and step inside. Hesitant to lock it, I remind myself that I’m safe, and it’s not the cage Iwas forced to be in. With shaky fingers, I slide the lock back into place and turn to face the horse, quickly realizing it’s a male, and the barrels of hay stacked in the far corner call my name.
Sinking into the dry, crisp grass, it’s itchy as hell, and the pieces stab and dig into my bony flesh, but I don’t care. It’s a welcome change from my previous accommodations, and I’m forever grateful I won’t be sleeping on cold concrete. My eyes hang heavily as the seconds pass. The horse trots over next to me before lying on the ground beside the hay. He rests his head in my lap, anchoring me to the spot, and my hand runs over his neck as my movements become slower, until I’m not moving at all.
EIGHT
Kallie
“Oh my.” The unknown voice is hushed, masculine with hints of an accent I can’t decipher. Air seals in my lungs, and I curse myself for being so careless. I knew to be out before first light, to say my goodbyes to the horse I’ve grown so easily attached to.
“Miss?” the man inquires. Jerking upright, pieces of hay embed in my skin as I scoot as far up the stack as I can.
“No need to be frightened,” the man says, holding his hands up in surrender, probably to convince me he’s not a threat.
