Gangs Aren't My Style (A Black Death Novel)

Chapter 42 - Off Road but Back on Track

Gangs Aren't My Style

Book I of the Black Death Trilogy

PART THREE :: Cast Your Armor Down

Chapter 42 - Off Road But Back On Track

It had taken Ally several days to recover, time that was spent either on the floor of the small cottage or on the small cot that rested to its one side. Her injuries were not as extensive as she had originally assumed but still, she remained immobile for the course of their healing.

It was now on her fifth day of recovery that Ally crept silently through the underbrush, placing her steps lightly and ducking down low so as not to be detected. She knew that by that point in time her brother could have both the forest and all of the surrounding towns swarming with his men and she wasn't about to walk unknowingly into his trap. She tied her hair back into a knot at the base of her neck to keep it out of her face and swatted at a wayward branch as she trudged along.

Then, a snapping twig to her left caused her to pause. Ally crouched lower into the bushes, turning her head slowly into the direction of the snapping twig, not risking any sudden movements that might alert anyone of her presence. She certainly would not allow one of her brother's men to capture her within only twenty-four hours of her escape.

She saw the man, disguised as a convincible hunter to the untrained eye, before he spotted her. He was wearing camouflage and was carrying both a hunting rifle and knife; however, Ally could tell from the way he carried himself through the forest that he didn't belong. His eyes were pulled far too close together in concentration to be searching for deer and his steps were heavy, not light like a hunter's. If this man were a clumsy hunter inexperienced with the woods, he would simply climb up into a tree stand and wait, not march around the woods scaring all the deer away. All this she took in in a second.

Shaking her head at her brother's stupidity, Ally waited for him to pass her before standing to her feet. Placing her steps light, she moved behind him as if a shadow, not seen or heard unless one turned around. Each carefully placed step was bringing her closer to him, until she was close enough to hear him muttering to himself.

"Search the woods, he said. Well, you imbecile, why don't you search the woods yourself and do something for a change instead of ordering us around? And take your stupid snitch of a sister with you. Only reason we're out here is to catch her before she tells everyone our secrets. I said she should've stayed a personal slave, but does anyone listen to me? No, of course not."

If looks could have killed, that man would have been burned alive in seconds.

Ally narrowed her eyes onto him in anger and quickened her steps until she was able to tap him on the shoulder. He spun around, jumping and slightly losing his balance. So focused on his floundering steps was he that he did not even attempt to lift his hunting knife or access the potential threat that had caught him off guard. Ally accepted his stupidity easily, letting a right hook fly at his cheek. "That's my brother you're talking about," she barked at him.

His head snapped to the side with the force of her punch and he stumbled backward, already having been off balance before she hit him, landing on his back. His head smashed off a rock when he crumbled to the ground, making her smile. "That was for my brother, this," she said, lifting her eyebrow up in a silent challenge, "is for me."

Ally swung her foot forward with all her strength, kicking him in the family jewels. He hissed out through his teeth, groaning in pain as his hands shot out to cup his precious little man. "Why, you little..."

She kicked him again, harder this time. "You want to finish that sentence?"

He grunted, grinding his teeth together as he wisely chose to stay quiet and simply shake his head. "That's what I thought," she sneered, an evil smile of victory stretching across her lips.