A Prisoner Of War

Chapter Eight : Escape

Author's Note : Up on top is It Ain't Me by Selena Gomez and Kygo, because, why not? It's one of my favourite music videos. Pro Tip: Don't play the video while reading the chapter, 'cause it's gonna ruin the effect of seriousness (Not that my chapters are really serious, anyway. But seriously, don't play it right now). Sorry for the interruption, by the way (Whoops!). Enjoy the chapter.

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I can feel the wind buffeting my face, whistling through my midnight-black hair as I rush past the undergrowth signifying the outskirts of the jungle. It's all I can feel, the whistling of the wind and the rush of blood in my ears and the thumping of my heart in my throat, amplified to an infinite extent to the point of almost deafening me. I can hear my ragged breathing, heavy, urgent intakes of air, my mouth pressed into a tight line, the rush of pure unadulterated adrenaline coursing through my veins, igniting every fibre of urgency in my system.

I can vaguely hear Alex calling out to me somewhere behind me, but it don't really care right now, because the only string of coherent thought going through my mind is to Run-

To run away from everything. From the hell that was that prison, those stupid idiotic weapons, the plans, the soldiers, the General -

And suddenly I am jerked back.

I get vertigo for a moment, the world's swirling together into a blend of colours and a foggy mess until my feet find ground that is solid and my vision clears, and it is then that I find that Alex has a strong grip on my arm.

"Whoa, easy there," she says, "We entered the forest ten minutes ago. We must be a kilometre in, going by the speed at which you were running. Don't run so much, you'll collapse. Anyway, we've got to trek all the way to checkpoint."-ending with a hint of a smile.

I stare at Alex in shock. That was probably the most civil she's been to me. I glance at Prudence, who seems to be on the verge of collapsing. I regain my composure, even my breaths so that I don't look like dying moose anymore, and follow Alex. Prudence shuffles behind me, showing quiet determination. 

After walking for about another half hour, I call for a rest. Not that I'm tired. Absolutely not. It's all for Prudence's sake, just so that I don't have to deal with an exhausted, blubbering mess of a Prudence an hour later.

We reach the base of the checkpoint an hour later, and I really have to muster all my courage to prepare to reach it. It's straight through the densest part of the jungle, which slopes steeply upwards and is dotted with numerous rocks. Instead of sunflowers, green, slippery moss covers the ground, growing over the gnarled roots of the ancient trees.

At present we're resting on a relatively large rock. A clear stream, gushing with cold water, flows by in a secluded area just next to our rock. Alex and I wash our faces and bring some water in a leaf for Prudence, because she definitely is too tired to even walk, apparently. She sips the water carefully.

And that is when I hear a deep, treacherous growl.

There's a hint of a rustle in the bushes behind us, and all of us freeze. I slowly, achingly slowly, turn around.

Only to come face to face with a tiger.

~

The trees cast dark shadows over the smooth deep orange coat of the beast; and where the sunlight hits its coat, it glints in golden beams across its fur. Its yellow eyes shine like lamp-lights in the dark forest, and its muscles ripple under its orange and black fur as it pads soundlessly towards us.

We stand frozen on the spot, eyes fixated on the tiger, fear turning our bodies to stone. Our breaths are bated, eyes trained on the beast that might be the last thing we see. My mind is racing, looking for a way to escape. Suddenly, I hit upon the old, overused method of distract, then kill. It might be possible, though it sounds impossible in my head. The tiger nears, and I force myself to stay calm, which is crucial for my plan to work.

I pray to every single God I know, praying that no one moves or makes a sound.

But as usual, the opposite happens.

Prudence snaps out of her daze and lets loose a shrill scream. She also throws her leaf (with the water in it) on the tiger (which I'm sure he isn't very happy about), turns, and flees. The tiger turns towards us with an unearthly roar, but before it can pounce, we turn and run for our lives. 

I can sense the tiger nearing, closing fast. I'm running as fast as I can, heels flying, jumping over fallen trees and branches and stones as though in a trance. This time, Alex and I are running together, catching up to Prudence, whose movements are becoming more and more sluggish by the second. And then I'm running harder, striving to run faster than the fear that's consuming me, the fear of being prey instead of predator.

Alex and I are now parallel to Prudence, who was never a good runner anyway. She's panting heavily, while Alex and I have barely broken into a sweat. Thank God we remembered to bring our rifles, though. Now at least if the tiger does try to maul us, we'll have some form of effective and instant self-defense.

I can hear the tiger getting closer and I reach into the army jacket I had taken from the girl I had knocked out. My fingers curl over a set of magazines with some scattered stray bullets and I heave a sigh of relief. One thing I'm good at.

The tiger's closing in now, and my mind goes on autopilot, my ears fill with the deep, warm, calm voice of my father.

When you're running, Jackie, first of all, stop and let the target come closer so you can get a clear shot.

I turn and plant my feet on the ground, facing the tiger that is less than fifty yards away.

Deep Breath.

I shoulder my rifle.

Forty yards.

Deep Breath.

Twenty yards.

Take aim.

Ten.

Shoot.

The beast is pouncing, and it's all I can do to hold my rifle. Time slows to a standstill, and my gunshot shatters the silence when the tiger is midway in the air, its heavy weight sending my soul spiralling into a void of darkness.

~

End of Chapter Eight.

'Sup?

This chapter was kind of short.

 Did you know that there's a caterpillar named after Donald Trump? Its scientific name is Megalopyge opercularis , and it's dubbed the 'Trumpapillar' due to its uncanny resemblance to Donald Trump's hair.

Also, did you guys crack the code in the last chapter? It was really easy, the solution was : The number of letters in the word, minus one! That was all. 

Anyway, who's your favourite character so far?

And with that thought, I leave you hanging.

(NOTE TO SELF : I should really stop with these cliffhangers in the chapter.)

Cheers,

-T.J.