Blood Outback (Early chapters/concepts for "Children of the Outback")

Chapter 2

I ran as fast as I could, not entirely sure what I was running from. My breath came in short, ragged bursts. My feet pounded against the uneven sand. All I knew was I had to get away. If I stopped, hesitated for even a moment, it would mean death. Unfortunately, luck wasn't on my side. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts; I didn't realize I was falling until it was too late for me to regain my balance. I turned my body, trying desperately to land on my feet. Maybe if I did I could continue running. Maybe I could still get away from whatever terrifying force was pursuing me. I landed hard, my right foot striking the ground first, throwing me off balance. My shoulder smashed against the earth sending needles of pain through my body. Then I noticed the pain in my ankle and I wasn't sure what hurt worse, that or my shoulder. I wanted to get up, to keep going, but I couldn't. The fall had taken all of the fight out of me. I was exhausted and terribly thirsty. I couldn't keep going, couldn't fight anymore. I breathed deeply, sand tickling my nose, and probably would've cried if I had any tears. I could feel unconsciousness approaching, probably a result of the pain I was experiencing. I gave in to it, glad for some kind of reprieve. Hopefully, death would be quick. The last thing I heard before unconsciousness claimed me was a male voice.

"Thought you could run forever, didn't you?" It questioned.

I awoke in a cold sweat and looked furiously around. No, I wasn't in the middle of the desert. I was in the barracks, where I belonged. A dream, it was only a dream. I ran my fingers lightly over the spot where Summer punched me yesterday, sending a dull ache across my cheek. I wished I could be relieved in the fact that the horrible things I saw, heard, and felt were only in my head. My dreams had a sickening way of coming true, as if they were something more. I hoped this wasn't one of those, hoped I wasn't seeing how I was going to die. Seconds after the thought crossed my mind, I started laughing. I wasn't planning on trying to escape from Black River. The dream would be my death, if I was stupid enough to escape. I got to my feet and made my way out of the barracks, into the sunlight.

"What the heck," I muttered to myself.

Somehow I'd managed to sleep through wakeup call. Great, now the guards would be angry. I sprinted to the breakfast hall, the place where we both ate our meals and got our daily tasks, thankful it was still early enough that I could run comfortably. Like all of the other buildings, it was built long, low, and entirely out of wood. I pushed my way through the double doors only to be greeted by the scowling faces of two guards, neither of them Elijah. I cursed my rotten luck. Elijah would've kept them off my back, at least a little. Without him, I was nothing. The two guards stared at me like a lamb set for the slaughter, hungry. They were probably wolves."

"You're late NH," one of them growled.

I bowed my head and didn't say anything. At Black River, it was always better to keep your mouth shut and your head down. Don't make an impression. Don't argue. Just obey. Those were the unspoken rules of the camp.

"Ah, leave her be," the second guard muttered.

His answer shocked me. We rarely got off without punishment for our mistakes. Was today some kind of be kind to humans day or something?

The first guard laughed. "Guess you're right." He turned his animalistic gaze back on me. "As for you, get your ass out to the west field. You're cutting herbs and rolling Nature's Spirit today."

I nodded. "Yes sir."

The west field was one of the most out of the way work sites in the whole camp. For me, that was a comfort. No one would come out there unless they were specifically looking for me. No one ever really looked for me, save for Elijah.

Sweat was running down my face by the time I reached the site. I settled myself among the herbs grasses and began my tasks. Pull the grass out, remove the roots, roll it in paper, repeat. It was mundane, boring work that no one wanted to do, especially since there was no going inside with this job until the end of the day, and even then we had to lug bags filled with rolled herb grasses, the vamps and werewolves' equivalent of cigarettes, back to the breakfast hall. It wasn't fun in the least, even worse than digging trenches.