Chasing Anne

Redeemed

The faster Mitchel ran, the wearier he became, but he knew he couldn't stop to rest. It would be too costly. Just two hours earlier, he and Anne had been safely tucked away in the back corner of an ancient cavern he didn't think anyone knew about. Anne was laying limp near the fire, her breathing the only assurance of her existence, and Mitchel had been sitting near the fire cooking the last of the food they had. At that moment, he'd thought that all was lost and it would only be a matter of time before both of them starved to death, but then he'd heard it. The sound of footsteps outside the cavern. Hope had shot through him like an electric shock and he'd jumped to his feet, desperate for any sort of help. Without thinking twice, he'd run to the cavern's mouth to greet the unexpected, unsuspecting visitor. But as soon as his eyes met the stranger's, Mitchel froze. It was one of Raymond Parr's men, but he was gone before Mitch could react.

After that, Mitchel only remembered running back into the cave, putting out the fire, lifting Anne in his arms, and running. He took nothing else with him, but he didn't think it would much matter. He could try to outrun those that were probably chasing after him, but he was almost certain that he wouldn't make it farther than a few miles.

And now here he was, still running. His body ached and screamed for him to just take a moment's breath, but he ignored it and kept on. Pain could not stop him; nothing could. He needed to make the best of his situation and try to save Anne. Even if he died and she survived, at least she would be worth it. She had to make it no matter the cost. His grip around her limp, pale form in his arms tightened and for a brief moment, he looked down at her. How he wished that he could turn back time and return her to what she had been before all of this had happened. She was barely clinging to life itself. How could he have let this happen to her? She didn't deserve any of what had happened to her. No one did. He looked back up at the dark woods ahead of him and grimaced, the cramp in his side becoming unbearable. He stumbled and fell to his knees, clutching Anne close to his chest as he collapsed. Her limp body was the only thing that kept him going. If he could only keep going. If he could only get them both to some kind of help, at least they would have a chance. Out here they had nothing and that was what kept him going. He had no idea where the nearest civilization lay, but he hoped that it wouldn't be far. He knew he couldn't keep this up for much longer. Forcing himself to his feet again, he began to jog forward, and then he quickened into a run, his entire body furious with his decision.

But then, as if his situation couldn't get any worse, he heard a long, low howl and stopped cold. For there before him, crouched low below the bushes, was a wolf. Its eyes gleamed green in the dim light of the night and its sharp white fangs glowed in the moonlight. It snarled and came closer to him, followed by two other wolves. The others were smaller, but they were not any less deadly. The circled him and were joined by three more wolves, making a total of six deadly creatures. Mitch knew that there was no way out and dropped to his knees, cradling Anne close.

"God! Help me!" he cried. "I need you!"

The first, largest wolf lunged at Mitchel and his helpless friend mercilessly. Mitchel braced for the pain that he knew was sure to follow, squinting his eyes tightly shut, but no pain came. He opened his eyes and looked back at where the wolf had been and realized that a black husky had caught the wolf in the middle of the lunge and was now ferociously attacking the large beast with all it had. And then, just to make matters even more odd, a golden retriever appeared and also began to attack the pack of wolves, fighting for their lives and the lives of the humans that they seemed to be trying to defend. While it puzzled Mitch greatly, it also brought him hope. He bowed his head and closed his eyes. "Thank you, God," he whispered. "Thank you."

Peace flowed over him in that moment and he instantly knew that everything was going to be okay. Whoever these dogs were, he was certain that they had been an answer to his prayers. And for that, he was very, very grateful. The husky growled at the wolves still trying to close in on them and snapped its jaws, warning them of the damage it would inflict if any of them got any closer. The leader of the pack snapped its jaws in return, saliva dripping from its cruel jaws. It came at the husky from the left while three others went at the golden retriever. The golden dog looked scared, but it didn't shy and instead took two of the wolves head on. The leader and the other wolf both lunged at the husky at the same time. The husky barked in anger, but its cry soon became a yelp as the dog on its right sank its teeth into the husky's right shoulder. But the dog still would not give up the fight and threw the wolf backwards, snapping its jaws on the wolf leader's leg. The large, furry beast howled in pain and jumped back from the now bleeding husky. The two glared at each other for what seemed like forever, their sides heaving, blood dripping from their wounds, and their eyes hot with rage. The wolf seemed to consider what would happen if it tried to attack again, but then it sneezed and shook its weary head. With its tail between its legs, the wolf retreated back into the woods, panting for much needed air. Its pack went with it all in the same fashion.