“Of course.Stop stalling.”
“I—”
A blur of white shot out of the undergrowth and barrelled into him, and he yelled as teeth sank into his ankle.Shiro!He’d come back.He hadn’t left me.He was…about to die.I threw the only thing in my pocket—a poop bag dispenser—and the shot went wide.The psycho tried again, and this time Shiro yelped, but he made it to the trees, and so did I.
Branches whipped against me as I ran, and I heard cursing from behind as my pursuer gave chase.I couldn’t outrun him.I hated cardio.Pain shot up my leg as I twisted an ankle on the uneven ground, and I landed on my knees.Shit!I waited for a bullet to thud into me, but silence fell.Why had he stopped?Because of his injury?Or was he lining up another shot?
I flattened myself against the spongy earth, waiting.
Where was he?
Rain splattered down, and I strained my ears, listening for movement.
A twig cracked.
The stranger?Or Shiro?
Where was I?
Which way was home?
I’d run off the trail and careened blindly into the forest, but the trees all looked the same, and there were no landmarks.I was hopelessly lost.
A tree rustled.
A bird squawked.
I crawled along, staying on my hands and knees, running in a crouch whenever I had to cross a clearing.My pounding heart threatened to drown out the stranger’s approach, and I wanted to crawl under a bush and hide, but Shiro was out here too, maybe dead but possibly just injured, and if he was alive, I needed to find him.I needed to get help.
But first, I needed to survive.
Was that…was that the trail?It was.But which way was home?Which way led to safety?I looked left and right and found I was back where I started.Ridge’s body lay where it had fallen, and blood was seeping from a wound in his forehead, trickling past glassy eyes over pale, wet skin.
Instinct made me recoil, but newfound strength stopped me in my tracks.
The gun.
Ridge had that damn gun.I blinked back tears as I grabbed it and thumbed off the safety the way I’d been taught.Where was my phone?I’d dropped it somewhere near the trail, and if it still worked…
“Jessalyn…”
The stranger’s voice was mocking, almost playful.
I raised the gun as I turned, and his expression barely morphed into shock before I pulled the trigger.Fuck him.Fuck these people who ruined lives to fit their own twisted narrative.I kept firing until he fell backward, my ears ringing, blood spraying across the path.His gun bounced into the grass.Mine clicked as it ran out of bullets.
Shit, shit, shit!
Home.I had to get home.
No, no, no.I had to find my boy.
“Shiro!”
The gun.Should I grab the man’s gun?What if he had friends lurking in the forest?My magazine was empty, but his pistol was covered in blood and guts.Yeuch.Instead of picking it up, I darted back into the trees, watching, waiting.Listening.
All I heard was rain.
Wind.
