CHAPTER THREE

 

CHAPTER THREE: HUNTED

           

      It was dark, not an endless darkness but rather dimming darkness. I was able to pick out a huge figure that was darker than the darkness swallowing him, sending ringlets of fear and intimidation with his every stride. In his hand was a torch, the flames greedily breathing in the cold air and exerting the hardly helpful light for the figure was still obscured in details. All that could be detailed was the hand clasped around the torch, the knuckles piercing against the thin, pale skin and the veins popping out, lined by flickering shadows. Abruptly, the figure stopped, standing in front of a heavily bolted door with tin slide doors for an eye hole and another for slipping in food. Jingling of keys echoed through the vast emptiness of the floor, the figure thrust a key into the keyhole, the door scraped opened and the light scattering a downpour in the dark’s foundation. The room smelled of damp dirt and urine. The figure moved into the room, searching for something. He stumbled over an overturned cot that was slightly damaged, he whizzed around, walking the perimeter of the room before stopping. His roar rumbled through the still air, a few dirt crumbs falling onto the stone ground.
”WHERE IS SHE?” he said in a weird language, pulling the torch up to his face. Shadow Eater… I kicked out in blindness, trying to throw the blanket away from myself, digging my fingers into my bag to snatch the gun, loading it up and peeking over the counter… Nothing.

“Ugh” I nearly choked on the word, my throat feeling rustic and coated in sand, tossing the gun aimlessly back into my bag and fishing out a water bottle, swigging the entire thing in four easy gulps with satisfaction, wiping away some of the haziness I had had before. I grabbed the edges of the counter above, pulling myself up. It was nice to notice the glow of daylight swarming through the store, taking a gander at the untouched remnants of glass and closed door. My legs were wailing with aches as well as my compressed lungs tingling with soreness at every breath. My head pounded confusedly, too awake now to fall back to sleep, my nerves chattering from the dream. My clothes crinkled, feeling like cardboard strapped to my body, dried up with sweat and blood. I pressed the collar to my nose; the smell so revolting it could fry someone’s eyebrows right off.

One step at a time, I traveled to the junior’s department, the clothes hanging on the racks and still pinned with tags.

“Glad I’m not picky” I grumbled to myself in amusement, taking a dark pair of jeans off a dusty shelf, giving the jeans a few pats, puffs of dust floating into the air. I grabbed a black tank and dark gray sweatshirt to go with it, dumping the pile on the floor as I got undressed… halting, in front of me, directly a few yards ahead was a skinny, vertical mirror. The figure, in this mirror, blankly stared back at me. My jaw dropped, daringly strutting up to it, unable to breathe at the sight of my reflection. I wiped away the small layer of dust so I could see more clearly. It had to be nearly eight years since I had seen myself in a mirror. I was struck dumb, like a caveman at the sight of fire, at my reflection. It didn’t mesmerize me but shocked me. My hair had been shaved down to the scalp a few months ago but now was thick on my salty and greasy head. It was still the dark mahogany color I remembered it being. My body was strange looking, no longer healthily toned with sculpted muscles but carved by prodding bones. My body was so skinny, hiding in my rags like a loose sleeping bag. My skin was pale, dubbed with scabs, scars, flecks of blood and sticking to coats of dried sweat. My face… it was covered in dirt, a thin scab running down my narrow jaw line. My cheekbones stuck out to much, looking alienable and runway model-ish. My slightly plumped lips were creviced into a straight 180 degrees line. My eyes were flickering to my reflection’s eyes, two honey combs squeezing around the livid black pupils, the iris sealed off with a smoldering, dark mud outline, a vacant stare glazing over. My eyebrows, just as dark as my hair, perched an inch or so above the eyes with my forehead crinkled in a scowl. Some blots of blood were still glued to the side of my head, gently trying to rub some of it off. My nose, ordinary and in my opinion perfect for my round face, flared at the reflection. My emotions teetered with disturbance and awe. I sighed, still the ordinary ugly girl I was seven years ago. I shrugged it away, after all, it was the face Ian had fallen in love with, just a little older now. I was twenty three… or was I twenty four? I had to find some way of finding the date.

 Looking at myself, I craved a bath, biting my lip in temptation, debating whether or not to use my collected water bottles to shower myself. I skipped to my bag, tossing the water bottles into my arm, knowing I would probably regret this later. On the way back to my pile of new clothes, I grabbed some delicately smelled shampoos, a towel and some fresh undergarments. I stripped myself bare, standing on the off white lament tiles, pouring two water bottles on top of my head, letting out a yelp as it flowed through my hair and danced along the curves across my skinny and scarred body. Shivering, I grabbed the floral smelling soap bar, lathering it onto my body over several times as a puddle of murky water began to form at the bottom of my big feet. Groaning to myself, I ran to find a shaver, finding a men’s electric one and for once in packaging history, it included batteries. I quickly ran it across my sudsy legs and armpits, feeling already cleaner, ably tossing the razor away and feeling obliged to rub another thick layer of soap on my skin before moving on to shampoo. After that, I lifted the cap on the shampoo, sniffing it, revolting the too strong smell of it, but too stingy with dirt to care. It came out onto my palm like liquefied pink pearls. I rubbed it into my hair, using nearly the entire bottle just to feel the dirt erase off my scalp. Finally, I dumped the remaining waters bottles over my head and slipping myself in the fluffy towel, drying off quickly, and got dressed. I treasured the cleansing feeling kissing my soft skin. My stomach gave a few growls, reminding me of the old granola bars in my bag. The stale, crumbly bars were delicious, despite being over five years old. It was better than a clumped rice ball. I was so hungry that I ate the rest of the bars. I didn’t even care if I started starving later. My fingers ran through my hair that smelled like some strong perfume, the soft, light strands fluttered when let go. Distorted with free time, I lingered in the aisles of dusty shelves, finding some new shoes that actually fit me well. Doing a full circle around the store, I stopped in front of the door, my shoes grating on the glass but I hardly noticed, too transfixed by the outside sky; a beautiful blue, no traces of smog could be detected. So the snippets of conversation I had overheard in captivity about the air purifiers were true. I longed to go outside, but I was unsure of who was out there, my stomach going queasy at Shadow Eater’s outrage when he found my prison room empty. This thought sent hysterics gushing out of my skull, manipulating my movements, becoming jittery and flustered, wanting to run… but I had to wait, wait until the Sun was down before I could do that. I decided to prepare for my departure, so as soon as the day ended, my journey would begin. I jumped onto one of the countertops, my legs dangling over the edge. Where am I heading for? What do I need…? Map… but where am I going? A headache arose as I tried to reconcile my knowledge and memories… The crinkling of paper rang in my ears, waking me up slowly. My blurry eyes searched for the source of the sound, looking up into Ian’s face, droopy with exhaustion. My head was resting in his lap, his legs slightly shifting beneath me and the embroidered seats digging into my skin, leaving a few marks as I slowly got up. Ian rubbed his eyes with a folded map in his hands.

“What did you find?” he kissed me, squeezing my body close to his then hesitantly releasing me.

“Nothing much”

“Is that what you did all night? Look at the map?” his fingers laced with mine, giving me a kiss on my warm, numb cheek.

“Yes… please don’t get upset”
”I thought you were asleep. I’m driving today” he gave a groan.

“You drive like a maniac” I laughed softly, looking over my shoulder to make sure Nick was still sleeping. He was lying in the spacious trunk, with the seats folded down, with a disarray of flannel blankets and pillows burying him. I looked back at Ian, his lips immediately colliding into mine, grabbing my hip so he could press me closer, and his hands sliding back up and tangling into my hair. I sat there, dazzled and going lightheaded with his touch. He pulled away to take in a few breathes before pulling my face back onto his. His tongue twisted with mine when I interlocked my fingers into his choppy hair. His lip caught my bottom lip just before we both pulled away, holding our breath. We looked over the seat at the sound of Nick stirring. He was still asleep, we both laughed softly. I looked out the side window, unable to tell if it was night through the tinted windows. The sound of crinkling paper, once again, grasped my attention. My eyes flickered back to Ian, the map laid out in his lap. His finger plummeted onto it, giving a dull, hollow crack “here, this is where we’re going… Big Bear”… I coughed spasmodically, choking stupidly on my spit. Big Bear.  Now I remembered, and became swept with glee and relief. The aliens would not be there. For some reason the aliens feared the large land masses; the mountains. They avoided them whenever possible, and absolutely did not ascend them for any reason. Hopefully Ian stuck to his plans and continued traveling to Big Bear. My sigh echoed, looking outside. If only the days were shorter now, than I would be on my way to Ian.

            The air caressed my skin, out of breath from running out of an old shack; a visitor’s center. I had snatched up as many useful maps as I could and laid them out on the cool pavement. All I knew, so far, was that I was in Riverside, telling from the faded writing on the side of the visitor’s center. I flicked on my flashlight, supporting my efforts. I pressed my finger on Riverside, surprised I was able to find it among all the lines and colors on the map in the dim light. Next, I perused the map, hurriedly, searching for Big Bear City or at least Arrowhead. It was uncomfortable and stupid to be out in the open like this. I found it, in small black typed letters, biting my lip and trying not to whimper when I looked at the scale. It was over thirty miles away. There was no way I could run that. I needed to get there as soon as possible. If I ran, it would take weeks. I would also have to take out time to scout for food, supplies, and locate shelter, not to mention hours of rest. Even now I questioned my abilities, still immensely tired from the day before. I shoved the maps into my bag, wondering around the city until I found what I was looking for, at least consciously looking for, a car dealership. The cars were all used but I didn’t care, as long as they worked. I had considerably found my solution.

            The engine on the Ford truck was surprisingly quiet and to my benefit, functional. I broke into several cars before finding this red truck that was the only one to start up. The windows were tinted, reminding me of the old van that my dad handed down to me on my sixteenth birthday. It was the ugliest car, but it was my ugly car.

             I could hardly see the road in front of me, barely swerving away from some abandoned cars. The new-car smell still clung to every surface, despite the years and open windows. Once in a while I would flicker on the headlights (that I had to replace) to see where I was. Traffic defiantly made a difference, over half way there in, what I estimated was, an hour. The map was folded over the steering wheel, sometimes checking it in reassurance. Everything was bitterly dark, reeking of abandonment and extinction. The wind whipped against my irresistibly purified face, deafening me. I missed listening to music, not bothering to flick the radio on because nothing was playing.

            As I got closer to Ian (I hoped) the more I became sickened with the hollow ache in my heart that only deepened in anticipation for his embrace and from the calculations of all the negative possibilities. Like he was dead… Thinking was probably the worst think I could do, even though my life depended on thoughts. It’s horrible, how our own thoughts can easily turn their backs on you; cajole and betray you like any living being.

            I checked the road and map once more, just in time too. The car zoomed into another lane, moving onto a single lane road. The road got bumper and narrower. I stepped on the gas upon seeing the map; I was making my way up the mountain. The car shifted from the slight incline and moaned in exertion. My excitement shoved a cork down my windpipe just as the wind got chiller. The pungent smell of wildlife and pine trees flirted with my senses. My excitement was soon after shoved away by my fear of driving off the road, descending down a steep fall to meet a crashing, not so pleasant, death. Later, I loosened my grip on the stirring wheel when the reflector taped bend fences popped up. My thoughts were cramming into my head as the altitude rose; more pressure pressing onto me to make my ears scream with aches, wishing I had a pack of gum to lessen the pain. To forget the pain, I tried to recollect some old songs, playing them in my head with much wasteful gust. However, I only achieved myself more pain, feeling more homesick than before…  The sun was set high in the sky today, looking like a radiating highlighter ball against the washed worn blue atmosphere. Ian’s face was masochistically portrayed in my head, jealousy playing pin ball with me; he had a date with Megan Gibbons tonight, blowing our traditional movie night in arrangement for the date. How could he do this to me? Did even have a clue how I felt about him? Hadn’t he heard the stupid rumors?

“Samantha” the screen door slammed on cue right after Mom’s cheery voice. My unfocused eyes wavered over to her just as she sat down on one of the plush patios chairs across from me, outside on the small condo backyard.

“What?”

“Something wrong? You got that sad look on your face again” her caring voice could not annoy me this time. Her round, chestnut eyes wallowed in innocence, her pudgy face forming light wrinkles. Her lips, pointed in a delicate smile, made her look even frailer than did her peachy pale skin.

“No mom, remember, just thinking”

“Oh right, your ‘thinking’ face” she sighed, her diminished cheekbones perking up as she placed her dainty hands in her lap, clearly telling me she was not satisfied and still concerned.

“Mom” her eyes twitched up, a few strands of her thin, threaded gold hair with sprites of natural highlights of autumn red fluttered into her face.

“I’m fine… just thinking”

“You live inside your head” I laughed at her over used remark.

“No. Just I’m…” I gave an impatient snort “upset with Ian. He cancelled our plans”

“Oh, is that what all this sadness is about?”

“Not sadness, just pissed off”

“Sure sweet heart” she weakly got out of her chair, giving a peck on my cheek “Don’t get upset… I love you”…. The car was giving sharp jolts, puttering in the darkness. Was it me or was the car slowing down? My eyes shifted to the meter in sheer panic. I was on empty! I floored the gas pedal, trying to get as far as I could before the car would come to a complete stop. I must’ve gone a foot before it churned to a halt, beginning to roll back a little. I put the brakes on, looking up at the sky, dimming in color.

“Crap” I huffed, my heart skipping a couple beats, scuttling out of the car. My foot slipped on the step and plunked shakily on the ground. I gasped, seeing the scenery in person for the first time. On my left was a wave of jagged rocks with some trees sprouting around it and shrubs at the roots. I wobbled to the edge of the road, clinging to the metal bender. My stomach did flip flops, able to see the drizzled movements of trees far, far below. Ripping my eyes away, my head feeling twenty pounds lighter, I grabbed my bag out of the car and continued moving up the road that was still the same color as the sky. My head squeezed, my legs screaming at the slight incline, my thighs burned; all my stamina was used up. Slow was an under statement to describing my speed.

             My mind trickled on the thought of Shadow Eater’s rage, coming to the horrible conclusion; he was fearless, and would go up the mountain and drag me down it. My feet pumped faster in this recollection, the unlikely possibility enough to motivate me to run. The ground was bending, hesitantly following it instead of groping the road myself to make sure it wasn’t my eyes playing tricks on me. My heavy breath was the brink of my exhaustion, having a little imaginary inclination to teeter off the road and fall. The trees would be there to catch my body just at the wind snatched my life. Slowing down, I fell to my knees. My eyes burned for release, looking up at the sky, the stars slowly vanishing, the day ready to unexpectedly cave. The air in my lungs was pushed out and sucked right back in, making my head swirl and my legs painfully cramping up, deciding to rest for a couple minutes or maybe a couple hours. It all depended on how I… the sound of rubber on gravel was coming. My heart screamed into a tirade of beats. I punched my legs, getting up with tears springing from the corners of my eyes. My knees refused to lock into place, making me stagger back onto the ground. The sound was getting closer and I couldn’t see it. My head was ready to burst, my ears hurting so bad and muffled that I could not tell which direction it was coming from. It’s them… the aliens. They found me! No! I forced myself up, falling again, beginning to crawl, sobbing. Can’t be… let me die. My arms pushed my torso up, flapping my legs to get feeling back in them. Finally standing up, the sound pressing against me, turning around to see a bulky car coming straight at me with incredible speed, giving me no time to jump out of the way. It was here. When it collided into me, I didn’t get the briefest moment to feel pain, only thoughts of dread. Let me die…

 

Author's Note

Please ignore grammar problems. I know they're there and have countless times looked over and edited my work but still can't fix every single one. I would appreciate comments (good or bad) and would love ideas since I'm constantly on writer's block.

SONG OF THE CHAPTER: "Live Free or Let Me Die"- SKillet