change history yesterday

chapter 32 - night crawlers

I roll over to my side, which is short-lived as I make contact with the dirt ground. The right side of my body feels shattered as I move to my feet and look frantically around the odd hideout.

"If you have any idea o-," I cut him off with the spear I saw the little boy drag in.

"Hey, hey, hey!" the man starts with his hands up, stepping in front of the boy. "We're only trying to help you."

I smirk at his words. It's not that I don't believe him. That's not the problem. But all I can think about right now is finding my mother and Rhys. My memories are coming back now, in full, and it's clear to me that we've been separated since the crash. I have to make my way back to that hospital with President Malcolm. Friend or foe, he's my best shot at finding them.

Is he the one that shot me?

Intuitively, my hands and eyes move to my torso and I'm astonished to find no wounds. There are no bandages or gauze, and there's only minimal, almost healed scratches that decorate my torso.

How can I have healed so quickly?

Seventeen gunshots is not something one just bounces back from. I feel overwhelmed and the once vivid memories I have of militant uniforms and being shot at by that unrecognizable figure are muddied now. Confused and scared, I lose my stepping and the staff in my hands.

A gust of wind blows the door made out of leaves open and I make a run for it.

It's dark out. Much more darker than I expected it to be but I can see everything clearly, oddly. I'm not sure where I'm running to.

The older and younger boys' shouts at me grow distant with each step. They're not following after me.

The further I get from the dimly lit tree the more reckless this course of actions feels. My feet ache from being barefoot. With every step, a piece of the Earth plunges its way into the bottom of my feet, forcing out small whimpers underneath my heavy pants. The air is piercingly cold against my skin. I keep looking towards the sky in hopes of finding the moon. I eventually come to the conclusion that we are in one of those phases where the moon is capable of hiding itself from the dangers of human recognition: lucky moon. Nevertheless, my eyes continue to flicker upwards in hopes of it making an appearance.

The sound of leaves rustling in the distance stop me in my tracks. My heart, breathing, and mind all play catch up as perspiration builds heavily under the midnight skies. I flicker my eyes left and right unsure of where the sound is coming from. I take a few steps backwards in complete fear. The hairs on my arms stand on their own and for the first time since running into the nothingness I can hear the beat of my own heart. I spin around alert and terrified. The realities of my impulsive actions are settling in: wolves, bears, and hunters flood my mind. A branch breaking a couple dozen trees away from me breaks my paranoia.

I can feel my heart in my throat at the sight. A tall slender creature that resembles a man snaps its head in my direction. I stand paused in my entirety as we stare at one another, entering some sort of stare, or death match. Its existence is almost incomprehensible. It's tall. Taller than any human I've ever known yet slimmer than any animal, if that makes sense. Its posture is similar to that of a lanky man with an abnormal curvature to his spine. But its face is what's most striking to me. There are no eyes, no mouth. . . nose, no ears. . . no hair, nothing to provide distinction to whether it's human, or even animal for that matter. Although, we've both paused our actions, trained and studying the other, the creatures tiny movements are mesmerizing. Truly, it's unlike anything I've ever seen before and surely more frightening than anything I've ever seen before. It doesn't move like anything earthly.