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My feet start moving before I realize what I’m even doing, my legs pumping as I sprint across the soft grass. The further I get away from the house, the faster I run. This is the first taste of freedom I’ve had since this entire fiasco unfolded and I was captured. It feels fucking liberating, the feeling causing a spike of adrenaline to surge through my bloodstream, allowing me to run faster and longer until my heart feels like it will explode. My sneakers hit the asphalt in a rhythm all their own. My lungs start burning, but I savor the pain and the pleasure all at once.
The further I run away from the house, the more guilty I feel for leaving Travis behind, but I know this is the right thing to do. None of this capturing and owning another human being shit is right. There's nothing honorable, ethical, or moral about it. It's wicked and it’s wrong.
So why does it feel like I'm losing a piece of my heart the further away I run? It's like my head knows what's right, but my heart wants me to turn around—being a human captive be damned. Stupid, Jules, just stupid. You can sort out your feelings later. I haven't seen my father and Jake in over a month, and right now, it feels like years.
As I am running away, it's odd I even notice there are fewer stars in the sky as opposed to the night sky at the cabin. Memories taunt me as I remember warm nights out on the front porch of the cabin. Travis and I would talk about the stars and how much brighter they were out in the country. Why am I thinking of stars at a time like this? All of it was a fairytale. A lie.
My legs start to give out and I stumble. I’m forced to slow down my stride and focus on my breathing. I’m growing tired, but I refuse to give up, so I force myself to push on as I half-stagger and half-jog. I let the thoughts of having my entire life ripped out from under me fuel my anger, which in turn feeds my energy to keep moving forward. I've lost so much of my future, the most important thing being Adam.
My vexation has me pumping my legs faster and harder. I feel beads of sweat beginning to trickle down the side of my face, and the cool early morning air feels good against my overheated skin. The only thing I can hear is the rhythmic pounding of my feet on the asphalt and my hard breathing. My lungs continue to constrict as they fight for air.
My mind is willing my body to go the distance, all the way to Atlanta, but my body has other ideas. Against my will, the muscles in my legs, combined with the lack of oxygen in my lungs, have my body coming to a screeching halt. Dammit. I can’t push myself any farther, and I bend over, grasping my knees with my hands as my chest heaves like a seventy-year-old chain-smoker. I turn around and glance back, and see nothing but a bright-lit moon against a clear, dark sky. I don’t know how far I’ve run, but it feels like a couple of miles at least. I look around and notice the sky is changing to a lighter gray. I haven’t seen one single car since being on these back roads at this hour, and to me, that’s a good thing.
Placing my hands on my hips at the small of my back I lean back and stretch out, taking another deep breath to fill my lungs. Then I start to walk out my fatigued and tired muscles.
I have to keep moving, especially if I’m going to make it. It feels as if another half-hour has gone by. I’ve resorted to power walking now, knowing it’s better than just walking, but not as tiring as running.
When the guys drove here, I knew we were out of the city limits, but my gosh, these roads are just going on forever.
Since I fell asleep on the way here, I have no idea if I’m headed in the right direction or not. All I know is I'm still on a two-lane country road, and hopefully making my way toward the city of Raleigh. I have no idea what I'm going to do when I get there either, other than try to find a way to phone home.
The quiet morning I’ve been used to hearing for the past hour is interrupted by the sound of what could only be a diesel truck. It’s coming from behind me, and I immediately tense up.
These are the moments I wish I had a gun to defend myself if I needed to. Unfortunately, the guys have them under lock and key, or they’re kept on their own body. There would be no way any one of them would let me have a firearm either.
