Run straight to the forest. Be wary of the ground and your footing. Stay away from the right side of the property. Rub your chest, not your hands. Stay awake. Survive the night.
The horn blares, and I make sure to stay behind three people at all times, jumping over them as they go down, agonistic screams and groans, clutching at their ankles. I jump over the one that fell mere seconds before I could stop. Something flies past me, the noise like a buzz from a large mosquito. My eyes widen, brows hike together as I watch the woman in front of me fall with a goddamn arrow in her back. I keep going, following people in front of me, until there’s no one else to follow.
Breathe.
I only run faster when I see the trees. I look down, keeping my eyes on the ground for lumps. The cold air burns my lungs, but I go to the left as a fucking arrow whizzes past me, hitting the trunk of a tree like a goddamn bull’s-eye. Shit. I run deeper into the thicket, eyes scanning as much of the darkness as I can see in front of me. And it’s so goddamn dark. I stay to the left.
Groans and screams everywhere.
Then there’s hollering.
There’s a snap of a twig behind me and heavy breathing. They’re muttering in what sounds like Portuguese.
I hide behind a tree, keeping my breaths deep and silent. I amc a l m.
They pass me—shaking, whimpering, crying. I don’t move until I hear their footsteps at least five yards away. I run again, sprinting past others. When my side hurts, my thighs burn, and sweat pours into my eyes, I pause, trying to keep my breaths shallow and quiet. My eyes sweep the darkness. I can hear more hurried footsteps. Someone laughs in the dark, and their steps are controlled. They know this land.
Fuck.
I glance around, but there’s no place to hide.
I look up, muster all the strength I can to jump, and grab a branch. Withholding the pained groan, I grab another and haul myself up, swinging my legs. And up. And up. I climb until my shoulder is screaming at me to stop and my arms are shaking.
I will not go back to my wifedamaged.
Panting, I sweep my eyes and find a branch that’s thick enough to hold me at the base connected to the trunk.
I shouldn’t. But I climb one last time.
Survive the night. Stay awake. Rub your chest, not your hands. Breathe.
I grab as many leaves as I can without making too much noise and stuffmy pants with them.
I ignore the screams. Thelaughs. Ignore the catcalls. The snaps of twigs. I hold my breath when someone runs by whimpering. Hold it again when the person that’s chasing them runs past. I ignore the cackle and the creepy little“I have you now,”followed by the gurgling groan of what I know is someone not only having their throat slit… but getting decapitated.
I don’t think about it. I don’t let myself dwell on anything but my mantra. I will not go back to my wife broken. I stuff more leaves into my pants. I eat my dry cereal when it’s gone silent, putting the trash back in my pocket for warmth.
I keep one hand in the pit of my arm while rubbing my chest with the other, alternating them.
I breathe.
I stay awake.
Every now and then I hear more grunts and whimpers, people pleading for their lives, questioningwhy, why, why are they doing this?!
Then it goes silent again.
Measured steps through the detritus keep me on high alert when they stop below me. I pull my legs up, straighten them, then cross them over the other and hold my breath. They crouch down and shine a low light on the patterns my feet left behind. Cazzo. I move my head and my hands just in time when they shine the light at me.
But then… they start… toclimb.
Inhale…
I move to the next branch over and calculate everything I can do without a fucking weapon and without making too much noise.Exhale. The bastard finally reaches me, and as soon as he looks up, I kick him in the face with my heel. He groans and blood gushes down over his lips. “You fuck!” he growls, hauling himself up. I wrap my legs around the branch and cross my ankles for extra leverage. He pulls out a hunting knife and slashes forward, but I catch his arm with one hand and grab him by the throat with the other, pressing down on his trachea as hard as I can with my thumb. I turn him as slow as I can without falling off the goddamn branch that’s smaller than the one I was on, causing the tree to fuckingshake.
Goddammit. I mutter a curse when snow that had accumulated on the branches falls on top of us. It’s fucking cold. So goddamn cold.
Breathe.
