The Last Holiday

CHAPTER FOUR

Chapter 4:

The sounds of footfalls and angry cursing was all I heard behind me as I tore through the angala forest, not minding the cuts and scratches I got as a result.

    Twice I'd fallen down, face first into the swampy forest floor, and the second time, it had in been a pile of monkey shit.

Still, I tore on with all the speed I had in me, hoping against hope that my plan will work.

   I had run twice in circles, leading Baker in a state of angry confusion, throwing all caution to the wind as he charged after me like a wild boar.

His military training had given him more speed and endurance, but my years of running from bullies had infused me with fear - necessary fear, knowledgeable fear, because I knew what would happen to me if Baker caught me.

    "Just a little longer!", I breathed, feeling my legs tingle as my endurance bar dropped to zero and blinking.

  My lungs protested the level of work I gave them without warning, and threatened to go on an indefinite strike, like ASUU.

"Just a little longer!", I chanted, seeing  my freedom gateway few feet away from me, in a small clearing.

If only I was able to make it there, my escape was guaranteed.

My lungs decided to carry out their threat, and my heart too decided that since 'everyone' was striking, why shouldn't she? After all, she did more work than my lungs.

"Ju-jus-just a little longer!", I sang, feeling the insides of my mouth like dry crackers in the desert, hot, and totally devoid of water.

   Just as I burst into the clearing, a bulky force slammed into my left shoulder from behind, flinging me forward.

My eyes widened as I saw myself spiralling downward into my own trap, Mr Haaman himself.
"No, no, no!", I screamed, pleading for mercy.

   Deep down in me, I just wanted to be a good boy.

I slapped against the ground, hearing a snap and feeling like a bulldozer was on me.

Before I could even open my eyes, I felt strong hands on my throat, choking the small air I was able to swallow on my way down, out of me.

    Instinctively, my hands flew up to the hands on my throat, seeking to pry it free from my neck, but it was solid.

Two of my fingernails, short as they were, broke in my attempt in freeing myself.

"I be wan save you!", Baker cried as he choked me, pushing down against my trachea with the heel of his palm, spit drooling from his mouth.

"You killed my brother!", he screamed at me, knocking my head against the ground, shaking me.

I tried to pinch his face, but he bit my fingers and I withdrew them quickly.

Slowly, I felt myself sinking as darkness crept in, and an icy feeling crept up my ankles, fastening them.

"We wouldn't have hurt you, but you've killed my brother!", Baker screamed at me again, head butting me.

   The pain was muted, as though I was in a shell and he merely knocked on the door, asking who was home? 

The only thought in my head was of my life. Did I really struggle all the way here just to die, few feet away from my goal?

    I thought of my plans for resumption next year, and how much pain my death was going to cause my loved ones.

The last thing I thought of was: how hot was my hellfire going to be?

As Baker struck my head again, he screamed, removing his hands from my neck with a powerful speed.