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SAOIRSE
My bare feethit the ground with so much force the rattle of my bones reverberates through me, clattering my teeth and disorienting me. Dizziness fogs my head, dulled by the sharp pain ricocheting up my leg.
Teeth clenched, I bite down and push back the excruciating pain in my right ankle. Trying to focus on my surroundings, I blink, but the sound of twisted laughter has me peering over my shoulder and towards the rooftop.
“Did youreallythink that was a good move?”
Standing tall, the mystery man leans next to the open window with his arms folded across his chest, immobilising me with his watchful gaze.
My mind screams at me, begging me to run as fast as possible, but my physical form stays frozen, assessing his too-cool demeanour. He makes no move towards me. Instead, he stands there as though he has all the time in the world.
First, he extracts something from his pocket — a small silver box. Then, he flips it open with ease, pulling out what I presume is a cigarette, slowly raising it to the circular hole cut from his ski mask, where his wicked smile resides.
Finally, he sparks his lighter, and the flames highlight those unusual eyes, keeping me paralysed.
I drink him in, watching as he inhales before blowing out a cloud of smoke. The white fog floats through the air, and the musky, woody scent travels in the breeze, tickling my nostrils.
Not a cigarette.
I rack my memory for any recognition of the mysterious man. He is tall, maybe six-one or six-two, slender but not skinny — judging solely on his skin-tight, long-sleeved black tee that moulds to his broad, bulging shoulders and defined biceps. Then, finally, my greedy gaze falls south, over his distressed black jeans and the black Prada combat boots adorning his feet. Whoever this guy is, he screams arrogance, wealth, and power, none of which is familiar to me.
“You have three seconds, love.”
His velvety sneer has me crashing back to reality and clutching my bag tighter to my chest. I peer around, searching for an escape — left, towards the main road, well-lit but nowhere to hide, or head right, into the thick woodland, secluded but easy to get lost.
“Two.” He edges closer, readying himself to pounce from the roof.
I swallow, my gaze flicking between both options, neither of which is ideal.
He drops his blunt and then stomps on it with his designer boots. “Time’s up.”
I waste no more time and take off running into the unknown. The wet leaves cling to the soles of my feet as I sprint across the back garden. The frigid air burns my lungs as I push myself to move faster.
Footsteps pound behind me, and I know if I don’t hurry, this game of cat and mouse will end far sooner than I’m ready for. I grip the strap of my bag, holding on to it for dear life. Whatever happens, I know I need that box and whatever it contains.
As the frosty bite in the air rushes past me, it pinches my cheeks. The throbbing in my ankle worsens, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop.
The fence comes into view, and I hang right, where the wooden boards have rotted, leaving a small gap I can squeeze through. My heart thumps in my eardrums, matching the faltering thud of my feet against the dew-covered grass.
Menacing laughter cuts through the white noise fogging my brain, a haunting sound that shivers through my core. “Running will only get you so far, love. You have something that belongs to us, and I won’t stop chasing you until I have it.”
I drop to my knees, pushing through the evergreen shrubs blocking my path to freedom. The branches tear at my exposed arms, decorating my skin with hundreds of tiny red scratches, but I don’t allow it to slow me down. Finally, once the gap is exposed, I rip the bag from my shoulder and shove it through the hole in the fence, at last squeezing myself through it.
The streetlights fade, leaving me to depend on nothing but the light of the moon peeking through the thick woodland. I haul the bag over my shoulder and take off with little to no visibility, depending only on my other senses. Raising my hands, I use them to guide me through the night. My ears prick as the sound of the forest comes to life — leaves rustling in the breeze, owls hooting overhead, the sound of my heavy footsteps slugging through the waterlogged mud…andhim.
“You can’t run forever, love. Eventually, you’ll run out of steam. Of course, you could try to hide, but I’ll still find you. I know this forest inside out. After all, I’ve been watching you from it for weeks now.”
His voice bleeds through the night, and somehow it appears to be coming from every direction. Something about his tone and how it licks over my skin ignites fear and terror, yet it excites me. Maybe it’s the thrill of the chase or the impending high of danger it brings, but whatever it is, it’s both petrifying and exhilarating.
The treeline thins, opening into a small — yet still enclosed by trees — clearing, and I struggle to keep moving. My feet are torn to shreds, wounded by the fallen debris. My pace slows as I struggle to push forward. I look over my shoulder, seeking him out, whoeverhemay be.
My skin pricks with awareness, and even though I can’t see him, I know he’s close enough, watching me from behind the thick forest. I can feel those hypnotic eyes on me, scorching my insides.
I stop and scream into the night, “What do you want from me? I have nothing.”
His shadowy figure steps out from behind a large oak tree, but his eyes aren’t on me. Instead, they’re downcast to his boots. “You made me dirty my new boots.”
My natural defence mechanism kicks in, and the sarcastic comment flies from my lips before I can stop it. “You’re worried about your fuckin’ boots?”
