Feared

Forty-Three: A Residual Feeling

James sprinted through the trees. The ground groaned beneath him as he went. Twisted trunks and gnarled roots shrunk from his path, his alteration ensuring the way was clear. The pounding of his feet echoed in his head and reverberated through his body. He watched his surroundings morph around him, creating a clear track as quickly as he thought of it.

They're under attack. Wallace's words rattled around in his head until they lost all meaning. After days of tracking the others, of tracing the path the enemy was making to them, they were going to be too late. He thought they should have moved against the trackers sooner, but he had to listen to Ethan and Wallace. How could he possibly argue with their reasoning? Who was he to argue with them anyway? Even if they would have outnumbered the trackers four-to-three.

He spurred himself on, trying not to dwell on the choices that had been made. The others hurtled through the trees alongside him. He caught glimpses of Harris, Wallace and Ethan in his peripheral vision, their progress hampered by the forest growth that James' mind was ploughing through.

James' breath tore at his throat, his heart raced and his lungs ached. He had grown accustomed to the darkness of the night, trusting it not to impede him. He thought he could hear raised voices up ahead. Trees and roots continued to separate before him, a sea of growth parting at his command, sending frightened birds into the air.

He burst into a clearing, skidding to a halt. Charlotte, O'Connell, Cary, Kiya and Desmarais were tensed, readying for an attack. For a moment, they all stared at each other, each so ready for a fight that another response seemed incomprehensible. Ethan, Wallace and Harris stumbled into the clearing, the sound of their ragged breath filling the air.

James glanced to the sight of the three trackers bound together beside the crumbling ruins of a cabin. Once again he had underestimated the capabilities of Charlotte. He regarded her for a moment, her blue eyes dark navy in the gloom. She swept towards him, her movement breaking the silence that had descended upon them. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. Hesitantly James returned the gesture, self-consciousness making his cheeks burn.

"Are you okay?" she whispered against his neck.

"Yeah, I'm fine". He cleared his throat and frowned. "You?" It seemed the polite response.

She nodded as she released him, her pink blush just visible in the silver light of the moon. He wasn't sure, but he thought tears glistened in her eyes, but she blinked and they were gone. A flicker of disappointment passed across her face, as if she had just remembered what he had become. James glanced to the ground, supressing the urge to turn and walk back into the forest and away from their wearied and tired glances.

"Ethan, you missed the party," Charlotte grinned, turning to embrace him. Ethan laughed, lifting her into the air.

"I didn't want to ruin your fun!" They fell into hurried discussions of the trackers attack. James kicked the dead leaves on the ground, watching as old friends reunited. Desmarais pulled Wallace into a half hug, their relieved laughter filling the air.

Matt's presence didn't help James' mood. He tightened his fists, an unexplained anger rising in him again, but he swallowed it. He couldn't let himself be so uncontrolled again, no matter how much he still wanted to make the man hurt. He couldn't do that to Charlotte. He didn't want them to look at him like they had, horrified and frightened.

"James, you made it!" Kiya interrupted his brooding thoughts with a vice-like hug. O'Connell hovered by her shoulder, a wide grin stretched across his freckled face.

"Good to see you're okay".

"You followed the trackers?" O'Connell asked, his fingers entwined with Kiya's.