The Run

The road was abandoned, littered with rusted, old cars. Long vines and grass had crept back over the years, engulfing the highway. The breeze howled through the gaps in the metal, rattling road signs with long forgotten locations on them. The road lead into a large city, its buildings darkened, with boarded-up windows and doors.

The sun was low in the sky, clinging to the horizon. The wind picked up, blowing leaves across paths and into the trees. Other than the breeze, the area was almost silent. The highway fell just short of a large bridge, which disappeared into a low fog.

Just as the sun disappeared, several bright lights shone through the fog. Loud voices could be heard, shouting. The sound of engines revving, whooping and hollering also. The sound of a single gunshot echoed down the road.

Through the fog, came hundreds of people. Running for their lives. They thundered down the highway, dropping things, holding young children. They quickly met the bank of cars, clambering over them. Behind them, large vehicles, with rabid hunters on them exploded out of the smoke. The lights on their trucks illuminated those that were fleeing, reaching far out into the dark.

Many of the people fell, falling beneath the wheels, or being struck with makeshift spears or clubs. The kill count rose. The hunters were chasing them down. Many did not make it to the end of the highway. Only a few survived. Among them, a man and his wife were running into the trees. The hunters began firing at them, bullets whizzing past them into the forest.

“Come on, Kate!” yelled the man, his hand grasping his wife’s. He led them further into the dark wood, out of reach of the hunter trucks. They kept going, getting as far away as possible. The sounds grew distant, and before they knew it, they were alone. “John” his wife gasped, hands on her knees, exhausted, “I think they are gone”.

John said nothing, listening intently. He could hear the trucks, far in the distance. The sound of gunfire and screams, hanging on the breeze. John reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn piece of paper, with several markings on it. Kate sat down against a tree, still panting. “All those people, they didn’t make it” she said. “We don’t know that” John replied, eyeing the map. He was following a line with his finger. “It’s here somewhere” he muttered. He took a few steps forward and saw a glint of silver.

A few years before, John and Kate had met in the city, in a merchant town. Their world had been ravaged by a fierce war, involving the failing resources of the surrounding lands. People had been murdered for their water, oil, money and weapons. The war had not stopped, and around it survivors sough refuge and militant groups claimed territories. This was known as The Faction War. Out of this, humans had enslaved each other and began entertaining themselves with their persecution.

The innocent who had fled the city with hunters on their heels were part of a Faction Run. This was a game played by the evilest of the factions. Men, women and children fell at the hands of these bloodthirsty warriors, competing for the highest kill count. John and Kate had become close and were part of a city filled with killers.

However, John and Kate were resourceful. Both knew the secret exits, the tunnelways, how to move without being seen. Knowing that a Faction Run was coming, John snuck out of the city and buried two backpacks, if they made it through.

John was digging for them, the silver glint being a broken knife blade he had planted to mark the spot. “They’re still here” He exclaimed, pulling one out of the earth. He was covered in mud, having dug with his bare hands. “Thank God” said Kate. She zipped it open, pulling out a shirt and a worn pistol. Kate was a strong character, but she was fighting back tears. She was trying not to think of her friends, of the young children that just been killed. She checked the pistol’s magazine, slotted it back in, and tucked it into her jeans.





John got up from the ground, hitching the other pack up. He saw Kate brush the hair from her eyes, hiding her face. “Hey, are you okay?” he said to her. Kate covered her mouth with her hand, lost for words. He embraced her, dropping the pack to the ground. She shook in his arms. “There’s nothing, nothing you could have done” John said, holding on tightly. “You’re safe, that’s all that matters”. Kate sobbed silently. “We have to move on, Kate, we can’t stay here”. Kate broke out of the hug and looked at him fiercely. “This will never happen again, John. Not whilst I live”. She turned on her heel, grabbed her pack and marched away. John reached down, pulled his gear off the ground and followed, understanding her pain.

The walked for hours, lost in thought. The trees fell away to reveal a large valley, with a great river running through it. They forest dipped and they walked slowly down a hill, brushing brambles out of their way. Twigs and leaves getting caught in their hair. They hill lead down to the water’s edge, which was peaceful and quiet. John needed to rest, and Kate’s pace had slowed. “Hey, let’s stop” called John. “I’ll set up a small fire”.

Kate nodded, not looking at him but the valley instead. John knelt at the water and splashed his face. He noticed blood running from his fingers, out of his hair. He remembered a woman screaming next to him, as he had run with Kate from the city. His memory recalled a thud from a large club, blood spraying into his face. The shock of it had clouded his mind.

He reached into the pack to grab an old roll of bandages, when he heard a snap of a branch behind him. A rustle in the bushes. Kate turned, hearing it too. She drew the old pistol and pointed it at the bush. Without thinking, she fired three times. The crack of the shots echoed through the valley. Hatred burned in her eyes. “If you’re still alive, come out!” The bush parted, and a dead deer fell out.

“Kate” John said quietly. “Give me the gun”. He walked over to her quickly and put his hands on the top of it. He removed it and put the safety on. Kate angrily walked away. John watched her go, making sure she didn’t go into the trees. She stopped and sat by the river.

He set up a small fire, eyeing the treeline. The gun would have attracted any hunters nearby. He knew that that Faction Runs didn’t go too far from the city. Generally, the outlying regions were empty. John knew that settlements were littered about, but much further on. He speared a small piece of meat with a stick and hung it over the small flames. He looked over at Kate, who was doing her best to ignore the scent of cooked food.

He sat by the fire, visions of the city pouring into his mind. The people, all clinging onto life. The angry, bloodthirsty faction. The tired faces, the desperate eyes. The sound of the water and the colour of the sky made him drift off, falling into a deep sleep until the morning.

When he awoke, his head was pressed against the earth. The sun was high in the sky. He shot upward, his first thought was Kate. She was next to him, prodding the fire with a branch. “Morning” she said, without looking. “Are you ok?” said John, his eyes tracing over her back, at the plaid shirt she was wearing. “Yeah, I’m good” she responded. “Do you want some of this?”

She offered another piece of the cooked meat, John took it, pulling it into two pieces. He ate the first and gave her the second. “Eat, babe.” He said. Kate looked at him. “Wow” she replied. “What?” he said. “You haven’t called me that, for a long time.” She faintly smiled. “Yeah, well, trying to look after you here” he gruffly responded. He moved over, putting his hand on her shoulder. “We can’t stay here long. We have to go soon”. Kate nodded.

John packed up the small camp, Kate tied a faded red ribbon through her hair, holding it off her face. She looked tired. John took the packs, putting one on his back, the other on his front. Kate saw this and was grateful. She didn’t argue, pulled on her boots and stood up. “After you, cowboy”. She said. John moved forward, pulled the old pistol from the back his jeans “I’ll hold onto this” he said, grinning. “Don’t want you taking out any more unsuspecting wildlife”. “Idiot” she replied, as he walked past her, returning the grin.

John walked ahead, he couldn’t keep his gaze of the valley. It was a spectacle, something he had not been granted for a long time. The path in the forest widened and Kate noticed small creatures, scurrying back and forth. It appeared the further away they got from the city, the more life there was.
The Hunter King slammed his fist on the table. “Fools!” he bellowed. “Common folk, unworthy of you. How did you let so many get away?!” The room shook. Filled with hunters with bowed heads, the leader of the City Faction eyed them with contempt. “There were more than last time si-“ the hunter had not even finished speaking when he threw a boot at him. It knocked him flat. “This faction controls the West, we do not fail.”

He was leaning over a worn table, waiting for the next person to speak. Before they did, a door to the side flew open. “Sir!” a young man exclaimed. “We’ve had the report of the escaped commoners. We’ve learnt that John Astin is among them”. “What?” said the King, quietly. John Astin, with partner Kate, had single-handedly sabotaged more Faction missions than any other city dweller. A rebellious character, The Hunter King despised him.

“Send me the War Chief” said the King. “John Astin does not make it far from this city. I will drown that rat and his wife myself”. The man scurried away. Moments later, the door swung open again. Through it came a large, mottled man with his face hidden behind a mask. “Your Highness” he growled, bending to one knee.” “I need you to find me your sharpest warrior. Send him into the outer forests. I need you to get this man.” He threw an old photograph, of a much younger John, onto the table. “Get him, or kill him.”

The War Chief looked at the King, nodding without a word. The Chief had served the King for many years, having conquered the city with him and now ‘governed’ the people. The Faction Runs and Wars had been part of his life, a history of bloodshed. The Chief knew John, and why the King wanted him.