Return of the Titans

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

If I had known that all it took for me to get well again was a quick walk through my head, then I would have done it more than eating.

Okay, maybe not that extreme, but I could feel and move my arms and legs again, which meant no more waiting for the vultures to pick my crying corpse clean. I was already one step ahead, thanks to the elk. All I had to do was climb back up from where I came, and I was set.

Too bad Mother Nature decided to take a major dump on my feeble parade.

The rain wasn't slow at all in falling, nor was it light. Watery bullets rained down from above to strike my head and riddle my back, which, might I remind you, wasn't exactly protected.

Jay had said that nobody bathed at Prison Grove, so while I stayed there, I didn't change out of my clothes. I've been wearing the same camo t-shirt and jeans ever since I got to this place. It seemed like a sound decision at the time, but now, with the weather deciding to (quite literally) send a river down on top of me, suddenly, wearing such a thin shirt and non-stretchable pants wasn't much of a wise decision.

But if I slipped down one more hill, I was going to absolutely lose my mind.

"God fricking dammit!" I hissed, just as I tripped over the umpteenth rock for the millionth time.

Loose stones littered the ground where I trod, unearthed by the pouring rain. Just in case I didn't yet understand that the universe hated me, slick mud slid past my exposed feet, making a home between my frozen toes.

My boots, by the way, I had no clue where they were. They could have been blasted off of me, for all I knew. The reason why I took off my socks was because they weren't going to help much except weigh me down as the mud stuck to its fibers. No, I used them as makeshift mittens for which I stuffed into my pits. There was no way I was smelling toe jam all the way back to the school, but I had to fight off hyperthermia one way or another.

"How high is this stupid hill, anyway?" I grumbled and dared to look up.

It didn't feel like I hadn't fallen that far initially. Maybe ten, fifteen feet, but not too far where I couldn't find my way back once I got my bearings. But with the unexpected storm crackling over my head, I asked myself, What bearings? Every step I took, it felt like I was climbing higher and higher until the clouds would ultimately pass by my shoulders. The rain created a thick shower where I could hardly see anything, let alone where I was going, so I had to keep my head down just so I could know that I was still walking on solid ground.

Just because the elk went all Jiminy Cricket on me didn't exactly prepare me for when I returned to the land of the living (and unbelievable).

I decided to put my mind onto other things, just to stave off the absurdity of it all. Like Lion, for example. He was a pretty terrible-looking guy. What was going to happen to him when he went back to his boss empty-handed? I bet he was going to make up the most far-fetched lie, as saying, "She rolled down a hill," wasn't going to cut it.

And that was another thing: my escape. I fought for my life and others, a feat deemed near-impossible if considering the odds that were against us. With my blood and sweat, I assisted in turning the tide against the evil that had tried to consume us.

And the payoff? Victory. Genuine success. The sheer implausibility of it made a smile appear on my face, and I would have tried to kick up my heels in glee if it wasn't for them being stuck in the mud.