Aftermath

Prologue

I race through the trees, my heart pounding against my ribs as my feet slam into the hard earth beneath me. My breath is ragged as I continue to run forward, dodging fallen tree limbs and sharp rocks. Fear shoots through me as the adrenaline in my blood continues to spur me forward.

Behind me, shouts rise up in the distance, as does the sound of breaking foliage as my pursuers chase after me. I growl in frustration and look around me, observing the trees. Some are tall and have thick, leafy branches that will provide me with some cover.

With a quick spurt of energy, I run towards the closest one with branches low enough for me to grab on too. With a powerful jump, I manage to wrap both hands around the lowest branch. I swing my leg over the branch, pulling myself up into a sitting position on the branch. As the voices draw closer, panic sets in and I continue to climb upwards, as fast as my feeble muscles can allow. At a certain height, I stop, allowing the leafy foliage to obscure any view of me from my pursuers.

I break off a small branch that hangs just above my head, checking to make sure that one end is pointed. Looking down at my left forearm, I move the pointed end of the stick to rest on the inside of my elbow. Applying pressure, I drag the stick across the skin of my forearm roughly. However, the stick does nothing but leaves behind a bright pink line on my pale flesh. I curse in frustration and carelessly toss the stick away in annoyance. Instead, I opt for my ragged fingernails which are caked with dirt and grime from my short time on the run.

I secure myself around the branch I am sitting on, to ensure that I do not fall out of the tree to my death. Then, biting down on my lip in pain, I dig my nails into the soft flesh of my forearm, dragging them down my arm. My right hand blossoms with pain as the muscles in my hand spasm. However, the pain is nowhere near as horrid as the pain that I feel in my left arm.

Blood begins to well up through the torn flesh. I poke at my forearm, feeling it for an abnormal lump. When I discover it, I dig my nails back into my flesh and continue to scratch at the area until I see a part of a tiny metal contraption jutting out from between the muscles in my forearm.

I let out a quiet whimper as I pull the small device from my arm. Pain surges through my left forearm and my right hand, the muscles twitching and shifting from the strain. Blood continues to drip down my arm in thick streams, but I ignore the warm sensation, choosing to push the pain aside to study the small tracker in my hand in instead.

The device is very thin and about the same length as the width of my right ring finger. The surface of the device is a coppery color and contains a pulsing red light. In annoyance, I smash the device against the trunk of the tree, crushing it into several tiny pieces. I release a painful sigh as I study my arm.

With a start, I realize that my pursuers have drawn dangerously close to my location. Looking through the foliage, I can see two of them arguing amongst themselves. One man is short and skinny, about five inches taller than me. The other man is taller, but is stout, waddling about in front of the first man. The stout man is holding some sort of signaling device. I ground my teeth in anger; however, instead of attacking them, I decide to turn and continue climbing through the trees to escape.

I manage to remain quiet as I pass from branch to branch, biting my tongue to keep from crying out in pain. In doing so, I escape from my pursuers. After reassuring myself that they weren't following after me, I climb down from the tree, cursing aloud in pain.

Looking at my arm, I briefly check it over. Looking around me, I notice that the sun is beginning to set. I won't be able to travel as well during the night and therefore continue to walk southwest, hoping to put some more distance between myself and my pursuers.

Ignoring the throbbing pain in my forearm, I move onwards, cautious to keep myself concealed in the thick foliage to prevent others from catching sight of me.

I stumble onward as I clear the top of the hill. I believe it's been close to three or four weeks since my escape; however, I'm still having difficulty keeping track of time.

Pausing for a moment, I take in my surroundings. Below the hill is a valley dotted by farms here and there. The farms are far apart, an unusual scene in contrast to the overcrowded cities that I have avoided.

The wind blows through my matted ginger hair, whipping it across my face and into more tangles. I continue to scan the valley below until I spot movement from one of the farms down below. From my vantage point, I can tell it is a person with bright golden blonde hair. Any other physical attributes are lost due to the distance between us.

My curiosity gets the best of me, causing me to slide down the hill and run towards the farm. A nagging voice in the back of my mind continues to warn me, telling me this a bad idea. Ignoring the gruff voice, I continue forward.

It takes me a few minutes to travel from the top of the hill to the front door of the house, but to me appears as if only seconds have passed. As I approach the front door, I pause, looking down at my body. The small nightgown they had given me had long since been torn to shreds from my time on the run. Since then, my body has collected a lot of dirt and grime. I probably should have washed off in a stream, but I didn't want to take the chance of getting caught or catching cold.

I inhale, then exhale and step forward towards the door, knocking on it twice. The nagging voice in my head screams at me to run, but I refuse to turn away. Before I can stop myself, I rap my knuckles against the door loudly.

Voices rise from behind the door, causing my heart to begin to pound. I'm nervous and my hands turn clammy. The voices continue to approach the door until they stop and the door opens. Across the threshold stands a tall man will warm amber eyes and strawberry blonde hair. Next to him is a petite woman with bright golden blonde hair and caring green eyes. Her skin is pale like mine.

As soon as I see them, I know immediately that I have found what I have been searching for these past few weeks. However, any response I am about to give quickly dies in my throat when the exhaustion of these past weeks finally hits me and causes me to pass out.