The Berserker

Chapter 25

Nathaniel yawned, stretching as I tested my boots.

"It's five in the morning. And it's cold," he complained, lingering at the top of the front steps. Concerned, he added, "You know you really shouldn't be going outside."

I rolled my eyes, finishing the last knot. If I had known Nathaniel would be so reluctant and annoying, I would not have offered in the first place, especially since running with him would increase my desire to kill.

"Go back to bed then brat," I said tersely, moving off.

Heavy footsteps followed, and then he pushed past upsetting my balance. Glancing back, Nathaniel grinned.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there. You're so short."

"Still a little brat," I muttered not rising to his taunt.

Consequently for the next few minutes, Nathaniel would try to get a rise out of me. No amount of physical activity, whether it was running or beating a punching bag, would eradicate the increasing desire to wipe that annoying smirk off. To resolve the situation, I decided to do what I did best: hit my target. Without missing a stride, my leg knocked the back of his ankle, and he stumbled, palms hitting the pavement.

"Keep up little brother," I said grinning, satisfied with his stunned expression.

"It's on!" Nathaniel called, running to catch up, but no way I was making it easy.

I felt his reach and sidestepped smiling.

"Too slow!"

"Hey, let's play Tag," Nathaniel suggested slowing.

Frowning, I slowed too, confused to what he was referring to.

"What is Tag?" I asked, settling into a jogging pace beside him.

"Oh... uh it's a running game. Someone is 'it' and the objective is to tag another who isn't. In this case, if you are it, the goal is to tag me. Once I'm tagged, I will have to tag you in return."

The game seemed simple enough, yet there was a something that bothered me.

"If that's the case, there is no regulation in tagging another person after immediately being tagged. Doesn't that defeat the purpose of being a running game? And what about blocking?"

Nathaniel laughed unevenly. "Hah, you do not make things easy. Fine. Our game of tag then is a three second rule between tagging and if the person's torso is touched, including shoulders, then it counts as a tag. Arms count too if they are not used for blocking, like catching it at the back."

Nodding, I asked the next question tension crackling in the cool night air. "Who is 'it' first?"

"You're it," he replied, placing a hand on my shoulder with a wide grin.

Before I could protest, Nathaniel was running ahead. A familiar feeling thrummed through my veins as I watched his retreating back.

The hunt was on.

I gave chase, strides strengthening and pushing faster. The distance rapidly closed, him unaware of his impending demise, however, he glanced back and increased speed. Too soon my body protested against the strenuous exercise, so I thought of a strategy. Predators lay in wait for their prey, conserving their energy for the most critical point. This neighbourhood had many streets that would most likely converge multiple times, so it would be an advantage. It was also dark, the sun nowhere to be seen.

Turning left, cutting across the road, I ran parallel to the Nathaniel's street, his figure still in sight, illuminated by streetlamps every now and then. Keeping to the shadows, I put on a burst of speed, ignoring the pain, and took the next gap across again. He was confused this time, his pace slowing since he couldn't see me behind him. Nathaniel turned in my direction, and prepared to move, but switching to the opposing direction slowed him down enough for me to slap his arm.