The Escapee

Chapter one

The sound of a dozen sirens were wailing in the near distance, screeching harshly like fifty synchronised new born babies ready to receive the love and affection of their mothers. A gland of sweat trickled slowly and raggedly down his greasy forehead whilst a second lined up for its turn, as if his scalp was on the verge of an emotional meltdown. His face was so red that he could essentially have camouflaged within the barren red sand dunes and the explosive vermilion cliff faces of the seventeen-mile-long valley, of which stretches along the west side of the Loogonion Desert. However, it was far too late to lie low, he had been spotted and had no chance of going back, all he could do was continue attempting to scamper away. Thankfully, in his favour, the scorching ball of flames which had remained overlooking the valley for the past thirty-six hours began to vanish over the horizon, scraping in a river of cool, crisp air. The feeling was intense and refreshing, rewarding him with the motivation to proceed his escape. He had no intention of wanting to look behind, but it was essential to do so, checking over his shoulder was vital. If they were to outrun him, it would be the end. He sharply twisted his upper body clockwise at a one-hundred-degree angle then rapidly swung himself back - almost like an elasticated band had been snapped. He gasped with panic, for what he had witnessed during that brief second. Surprised, almost to the point of receiving the sensation of shock. Terror fled in his ocean blue eyes as he acknowledged that time had almost run out. Roughly eighty feet behind him raced what appeared to be a series of dust devil - like creatures, closely trailered by a second line, and a third. The desert sands shot explosively from both the sides and the rear end of these creatures, like a low laying sand storm, drastically building up their momentum and eager to pounce. The image of what his eyes had captured was rather surprising, he somewhat expected to be tailgated by a range of motor vehicles, preparing to surround him like a flock of hungry vultures. However, this was not the case, not even close. Behind him stalked a range of figures, unrecognisable and indescribable, almost like they urged to remain anonymous. From what he could make of the figures, they came across as very almost humane, but travelled on all fours, as if they were a few million years behind in the evolutionary process. Nevertheless, they could race at astonishing speeds, succeeding to stick to their pace with the stamina of every athlete, combined. It was hard to judge their velocity, but they were not failing to catch up with him. Perhaps they had evolved in an opposing direction to humans? Despite everything, they were most definitely not human, and this was not Earth. He however, was as human as they come. He suddenly came to a realisation that the sound of sirens had emerged into more of a deep, aggressive, whaling howl. Bewildered by what exactly had happened he questioned himself as to why he had the impression he could hear sirens in the first place. Maybe the brain was playing a trick? Perhaps being captured by police would have provided a much-preferred scenario? There was no knowing of what these things were capable of, but what he did know was that the chances of survival were very slim, almost impossible. At this point giving up appeared to be the only option. Even if escaping was manageable, where would he go? How long could he survive without food or Earth water? How long until more of these creatures noticed him? - there were millions of them out there! He pushed and pushed, attempting to battle through the exhaustion, panting extraordinarily heavily - like trying to melt an iceberg with the breath of an individual. Sweat began to pour heavily from his floppy brown hair, flying away with the wind, he looked like a human grass-sprinkler. The sweat had transformed the light grey t-shirt, which once hung loosely around his torso, into a dark grey - almost black - wash rag, which glued itself to his back. He continued to push when he realised he had gained his second wind, which allowed him to sprint faster than he ever had before. He laughed with excitement, maybe he really could escape? As he scattered about twenty feet he came to a cold realisation. He had ran out of land. Laying in front of him was a drop. A drop which seemed to go on forever.