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I stay focused. Eyes in front. My arms close by my sides so they don’t get tangled in branches. I find a narrow trail, what looks like a deer path, and I stick with it. Funny, the only sound is my own heavy breathing, my feet rustling through fallen leaves. I don’t hear him behind me.
Why is he not chasing me?
And where am I?
I think back to the way we drove back from the Pit, through the quiet main street of the closest town, then turning east toward the Hamlet. We must have been driving—what—ten minutes before he pulled over?
Further down this road he would make a right, following the road in the direction I’m currently running. I’m headed toward the Hamlet. I’m sure of it. The deeper I get into the woods, the quieter it seems to grow.
Slowing down, I glance ahead at what I can see of the path. No roots. Stop. Turn. Nothing. No one. I listen. Nothing. Where is he? I look around the dark woods.
Where am I?
A loud sound bursts through the quiet night, making me jump. My heart leaps in my throat. I bring a hand to my chest to calm my pulse. “Geeze, Paise. Take a breath. It’s just an owl.”
With a fluttering of big wings, the bird flies high over my head, moving deeper into the forest. Do I press ahead to the Hamlet? Hope to not get lost? I have no phone and the trees only get denser ahead, the woods darker.
I have a pretty good sense of direction, but I don’t know that I trust myself enough to go deeper into the forest with no phone. There’s a wall around the Hamlet for a reason. We have tight security because we have enemies.
A chill runs down my spine as I think of the dangers that could surround me. My parents have warned me time and time again. Stay in the walls. If you leave the walls, stay with your security detail.
I’m being silly. Overthinking things. I just got overwhelmed and ran. Though now, running over a spanking seems a little dramatic. Now I’m stuck in the woods with no idea how to proceed?—
The booming, echoing sound of gunshots reverberates through my eardrums, silencing the invasive stream of thoughts.
I’ve got to go back.
I take off running toward the car. When I get closer, I’ll slow to a crawl, staying quiet till I’ve taken in the scene. I have no idea what’s happened. I listen for more shots as I run. If it wasn’t his gun, there’s no way I’m going deeper into those woods alone with the possibility of an armed man chasing me.
If it was his, he could be in trouble. It’s my fault he’s out on the side of the road in the first place. Kind of. No, it’s his fault. Still, we never leave a member of our family behind.
I know I’m probably not much help showing up to a gunfight—I mean, I have a few good moves and I have been working out—but still, I need to check on him.
The car must still be there, or I would have heard the engine restarting. We were in the electric Hummer, though, so maybe not. Most likely he is still there too. He could be in trouble. But maybe there is something I can do from a hidden position to help. Or at least, wait till the assailant leaves to find my phone and call for help.
It was stupid to run. If someone is hurt because of me…
If someone else is hurt because of me…
Well, I already know I’ll never get over it, don’t I?
The trees thin. I’m getting closer to the road. I slow my run, now tiptoeing over the forest floor. I rise over a small ridge and see the Hummer. The light is still on in the cab, my door left swung open. Sliding behind a large oak, I press my hands on the rough bark, peeking around it to get a better look at the car.
Guilt pricks at me as I take in the clear view of my empty seat. Where is he? My body tenses, my lungs burn, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath. I give a quiet exhale as I stare straight ahead.
Finally, I see movement, a forearm reaching over the passenger seat, a strong arm wearing a watch. It’s him. He bends forward, lifting my bag from the floor. The butterfly bag is looking very pink and very babyish in his hands. Pippa would have a field day with this one. He sets my bookbag on the empty seat, then rests back.
The area looks clear, safe. I move out from the woods, slowly, eyeing my surroundings. I’m a few feet from the car and I have a clear view of him. I take him in. No blood. He’s leaning over, scrolling on his phone.
He looks…bored.
I call out, “Savage?”
He glances over. “Finally. Can we go now?”
“Ah. Yeah.” This feels weird. Being followed to the Pit. Finding him in the parking lot. Leaving with him. The spanking incident. Then the gunshots. My feet feel heavy as I walk toward the car.
I’m a bit robotic as I lift my bag, slide into the seat, and pull the door closed. I set my bag on the console between us.
