Project Terminar

Chapter 8: Watched

Chapter 8: Watched

Brittany's POV:

(Two Weeks Later)

I watch from the balcony as Talon continues to rest in the bed. He's speaking better now and can now move around the bed a little better. He can't stand or sit up because the burns were worst on his torso and lower portion of his leg.

I know he's still in quite a bit of pain, he just won't admit it. When he thinks I'm not paying attention he'll wince or let out a rough breath. He's resting good, but I'm not. It's around six in the morning and I'm sitting in the lounge chair at an angle to where I can see the sea and the light house as well as Talon.

The boys have been eating canned goods that we found in storage that hasn't got out of date. We don't have to eat of course, which I had to re-explain to Dylan.

A few days after staying in the home, Mason went off on his own way. The town we're in is very small and has basically no one in it, so I'm not to worried about him.

In this house, there's about six bedrooms and four bathrooms. The size of the living room and kitchen, as well as the antique style, made me assume this was a bed and breakfast, but when I noticed the sign out front my suspicions were confirmed.

I've been spending most of my time up here entertaining Talon because he can't leave the room. The sun is beginning to rise, the sky is clear, and the wind is down. A good day to hunt. The boys need to eat and we may have found food, but it won't last much longer. Maybe I can get away with leaving early and going alone.

I run my thumb over the old bow sitting in my lap. It's about three feet long and is made of some type of strong wood. It has Indian markings and feathers engraved into it. We found three antique, but strong and usable, bows along with two hunting rifles in the basement where we found the food.

I stand up and check on Talon. After seeing he's still out cold and grabbing my quiver, I head downstairs. 

Just as I walk out the front door I see Sawyer sitting on the porch. Dang, so close. "Where you going with that?" He chuckles seeing the quiver on my back and bow in hand.

I sigh and roll my eyes, "Say nothing to General Control Freak and you can come with me."

"Deal," He announces and stands up, "But I have no clue how to use a bow. I can track though." He announces.

"That's fine." I reply as we begin a long walk through the cold air to get to the woodlands.

After a few minutes of silence Sawyer catches my attention when he pulls a pistol out of the back of his jeans and makes sure it's loaded.

"Hey, isn't that mine?" I accuse him.

"Kinda. I mean, not anymore, but it kinda used to be." He smirks and I just roll my eyes, deciding to let him keep it.

After about twenty minutes we make it to the tree line and Sawyer gets to work on searching. I have no clue what he's doing, all I know is he's observing the ground for tracks. He must be seeing something because I'm not. I believe he caught a trail because he's going at a more orderly pace now.

After a few minutes we end up hiding behind a few bushes with a buck not but about twenty-five meters away.

After the buck bends back down to continue grazing, I rise up and aim. Just as I'm about to let the arrow go, his head shoots up and I freeze. He looks the opposite direction from where I am and stares.

After exactly two seconds he bolts. If he didn't see me then what did he see? That concerns me. I bend back down and this feeling starts to crawls through my chest. It's the very familiar feeling of fight or flight. Thing is, I don't see a reason to feel this. Instinct maybe?