Being Butch Green || ✓

Chapter 2 - Katrina

Somehow, my legs managed to make themselves move. I sprinted down the side embankment, skidding over wet leaves and disappearing through the cold fog into the safety of the trees.

I heaved, my legs running out of energy as I worked them harder. An athlete, I am not. I paused, checking over my shoulder at the entourage of flashing white lights and shouting men as I crouched down behind a tree. From the corner of my eye, I peeked out to watch them scan the ground, the dew from the fog now gathered enough for me to hear it dripping off the leaves around us.

"Clear!" a masked figure yelled, his voice echoing through the silent forest.

"It can't be clear! He must be here somewhere. Check the woods, we aren't leaving without that file," another replied, shouting back across the ravine. "You heard the boss."

He huffed in reply, his face masked by a shadow, before he wandered on with a determined carelessness. "If it pleases thy Lordship, then thy shall comply."

Their torches turned towards the trees, looking for signs of a trail. They crept closer, their feet crunching the leaves like they were large ants as the sound of their heavy boots sent chills up my spine. I gripped onto the tree to steady myself, letting my knuckles go white until they tingled at the edges. My eyes got a visual on their pistols and I scoffed. We lived in a country where there were restrictions on guns, and yet, they were happy to just shoot me down. Poof.

"Time to go," I muttered to myself, stretching my aching legs. I hoisted my backpack further up my shoulder and bolted into the thickness of the trees. If I hurried, I could make it back to the freeway before them and be gone before they even knew I was here.

The ice didn't help that goal much though, instead making it more difficult to manoeuvre across the undergrowth. My steps were more like shuffles as I half-skated across the icy forest floor, aided by my awkward movements. It was extremely difficult to travel fast, and it required a certain level of skill to execute the gliding structure successfully.

If that wasn't bad enough, the amount of times I have nearly skidded into a tree is truly incredible. They loom up through the shadows and jump out into my face like a kid playing peek-a-boo, giving me only half a second to change my direction. The sliding motion was beginning to get tiring and a numbing fear never left my chest. It welled up and got stuck like a rock lodged deep inside my ribs. The idea that they were following me made it all the more difficult to breathe, and I'm sure the trail I was making was fairly easy to follow.

But it wasn't long before the trees thinned out and the whizzing of cars reached my ears as they zoomed along a busy road. I followed the sound, excited at the possibility of being saved. I skated across the undergrowth with a profound sense of renewed energy, snagging on the trees as I pulled them aside. This was it. I'd return the file and pretend none of this ever happened. I reached the edge of the road and skidded to an abrupt halt.

Dazed at the mass of early morning traffic, I paused for a moment, my eyes skimming over the light influx of transportation. I prayed it was safe enough for someone like me not to get kidnapped. I nodded to reassure myself, determined more than ever to hitch a ride and get the hell out of here.

I stuck my thumb out at the traffic right as a large oil tanker whirred past me, knocking me off my feet. I fell back with a heavy thud against the cold dirt.

The sky was beginning to brighten around the edges. Dawn. I would be easier to track now. I should really get up but lying here felt good. Really good. Although there were sticks prodding my skin and leaves in my matted hair, it didn't bother me an awful lot.

I pushed my glasses further up the bridge of my nose, letting the stars twinkle reassuringly at me. My nerdy Harry Potter fanfic ass was running away from criminals. Actual criminals – and it was real. This was the single most exciting thing to have ever happened to me in my miserable life. I'd even rank it above spending the night in a graveyard playing Truth or Dare.