Creeping forward in the shadows, no one else was close enough to hear the quiet click of my cane. I passed the building and sneaked along the edge of the lawn. Then I slid around the glow of a streetlight and turned onto the street.
Staying close to dark businesses and storefronts and avoiding streetlights at the edge of the curb, the night swallowed me up.
I did it. I made it out. Freedom.
I’m free. I’m finally free.
The victory didn’t feel as rewarding as it should. Goodbye, Brighter Tomorrow Rehabilitation Center.
See, there were a couple problems…
Unfamiliar street after unfamiliar street greeted me, all looking more unrecognizable in the dark. I fled with nothing, only the clothes on my back and no plan whatsoever. Of course, if I were held prisoner against my will, only escape and my survival mattered.
I knew all about survival. Ihadbeen trapped. Held prisoner for the unknown supernatural power within me, treated as a possession to be sold to the highest bidder. Except… my captors weren’t who I fled fromrightnow.
Which led to my second obstacle.
The Ashvale Department of Supernatural Affairs rescued me and nearly a dozen other captives over three months ago. I’d first been placed in a medical facility to heal from the various health issues caused by too much time in a dark, dank shithole without fresh air, regular physical activity, and adequate nutrition.
The DSA and the physical rehab center were helping me. They were the good guys. Why did I run from them?
Good question.
Several car doors shut at once and people exited their vehicle up ahead on the street. I jumped and scrambled back even though they walked the opposite direction from me and towards a nearby bar.
“No, not another bluegrass band! It’s hardly even music—”
“No cover charge and half-off Jagger shots—”
God, their words barely even made sense to me. The quiet medical complex I exited had turned into a city buzzing with nightlife. The sights and sounds were a sensory overload, so I ducked down side streets until finding quiet, putting some distance between me and all the activity.
Whenever I used to think about being free, it was simple. Freedom meant not beingthere.No longer trapped in a big pit with all the other prisoners and a collar around my neck.
Well, I wasn’t there anymore. I wasn’t trapped. But I didn’t feel free. Which led me to my biggest problem: what the fuck did freedom even mean anymore?
The only thing that became clear the more I walked were all the reasons I’d been transferred to a rehab center for more treatment. My right hand needed some PT to regain full mobility after a bad break and my legs needed strengthening. While cleared for 30 minutes of physical activity a day, I’d never quite managed that much yet.
My breath came in harsher pants and I leaned heavily on my cane, more tired by the second. Where did I sleep tonight? How much farther did I intend to go tonight?
The night air felt a little chilly and a blanket would help fend off the chill if I slept outside… too bad I had to leave it behind. My blanket, the only thing—
Survival came with a price. I knew that better than most.
My captors took everything. I had no trust to give to the people trying to help me. Ishouldgo back, but even if I did, I’d only be looking for the next opportunity to run. This had to happen sooner or later.
I was better off on my own.
Speaking of being alone… nobody else lingered on either side of this street. That calmed my nerves at first but now seemed somewhat alarming.
Car doors shut up ahead. Two people moved swiftly from their vehicle, heads down as they hurried to their destination. That couldn’t be goo—
A can skittered across the sidewalk in front of me. I backed up on instinct, even before people melted out of the shadows. Three strangers who looked much too happy to see me.
“Oops, did we scare you?” asked the man in the middle. Wild dark hair framed his face.
“M-maybe a little.” I stumbled a bit since walking backwards hadn’t been covered in rehab yet.
“Well, we don’t want that.”
