Deep Waters

Chapter Forty

Shot after shot rang behind me. Each one was loud and piercing to my ears. Angry, frustrated billows expelled from my father somewhere behind me. I'd never heard him so angry. He thought he had me this time. I let out a scream of frustration too. I wanted today to be the end of it. We were supposed to be doing it together, but I was alone. I had to fight every urge to just turn around and let him shoot me again. Once I died, it was all over. I hoped so anyway. He'd be happy then. But I had too much to live for. Too many people to live for. I wanted to catch Charles when he was weak. Not the other way around.

My forearm ached and burned. I had no idea where I was so I just persistently ran. I ran so far and so long until my legs were burning beneath me. After a while, gunshots and monstrous screams from a disappointed father were no longer heard. My eyes scanned my surroundings. I was in the middle of a thousand trees. My body screamed of pain and fatigue. I needed a break. There was no telling how long I had been running. I stopped behind a thick tree to catch my breath.

There wasn't a town in sight. Blood was dripping down my wrist and off my fingertips. Dang, it. That rope I had ripped off my wrists would be useful right about now. With my good hand, I tried ripping a strip off my shirt, but I wasn't strong enough. That adrenaline that had kept me going was wearing me down. As the thought occurred to me, I knelt down and pulled off my shoe, which was followed by my sock. I had picked a great night to sleep in high socks. Very carefully, I wrapped in tightly above the gunshot wound on my arm. As I finished the knot and was slipping my shoe back on my now barefoot, my stomach growled and ached. There was no telling what time it was. My eyes scanned around me for Charles. Maybe he gave up a while ago and headed back for his car.

I walked a little farther but was constantly paranoid and scared to keep my eyes in front of me to see where I was going. Eyes in the back of my head like my middle school teachers used to have would be fantastic. Then I wouldn't have to turn to look over my shoulder all the time. My skin tickled with sweat as exhaustion weighed heavier and heavier on my feet. It was like dumbbells were chained to my ankles.

I would walk, run, then take a break. I did this for a little while, knowing that if I kept going then at one point I would come out on the other side of the wooded area. At one point I came across an old wooden box that was big enough for two people to fit in. It was covered in fake leaves and painted camo, with a large rectangular hole cut out of the front. I was sure it was an old hunting hut. Glancing up at the sky, I noticed it was darker than it had been when I jumped out of the car trunk. Where was the time going?

Making a quick decision, I took some time to disguise the box more to the human eye and not just an animal. I found some fallen branches and loose brush to place around it. The action made me feel a little better if Charles were to come venturing nearby. As the night grew nearer, I crawled my way into the box. The air had been getting a little chilly so the walls at least blocked the wind if I laid down beneath the window. All the while my wound was becoming unbearingly uncomfortable, the aches and bruises started settling in from me falling out on the road. My stomach ached and begged for food and my mind just begged for pain killers. I didn't even have any water. All that I had was the clothes on my body.

#

The next morning was chilly and foggy, making it difficult but interesting to start my traveling again. As soon as I had opened my eyes at sunrise, I realized that my wound looked like it was getting infected if it wasn't already. You'd think after getting shot so many times I'd know more about how to properly care for the wound, but I didn't. Just having to deal with everything I was feeling, I trudged on through the trees. Saying I slept well would have been an upside to my situation, but I'd be lying.

After what felt like hours, a familiar noise trickled in my ear. Engines. Car engines. Despite having little energy and feeling dehydrated and weak, I moved as fast as I could to the sound. It wasn't long before the back of a gas station caught my sight. Remembering my situation, I looked around for any signs of Charles or trouble. There wasn't really anyone around at all. Just a couple of people filling up their cars with gas. It was an old building and business it looked like. Everything manmade looked worn and aged as if this place had been sitting there for decades. My gaze caught on a small phone booth. That's exactly where I headed.

I pulled the sliding door open and examined the system. This thing looked even older than the building. And required a dollar to make a call. Growling, I slammed my good hand on the keypad before turning back out of the confining box. I felt defeated. I had no money. Leaning back against the booth, I closed my eyes, holding my wounded arm up against my chest. What should my next move be? What in the world was I supposed to do?

"That phone hasn't worked in years if that's what you were trying to figure out," a voice caught my attention.

I looked up at the boy. He seemed to be somewhere around my age. His skin was smooth and chocolate, and he had a jawline that could cut steel. His eyes were bright and green and his hair was cut short, black, and curly. Despite looking incredibly scary and intimidating, he looked well kept. Though the way he carried himself made me think that he was someone who would actually have a chance in a fistfight with Kason. ...Kason...I missed him.

There's no telling how long I had just been staring at this man because he had plenty of time to observe my beat-up state and the disgusting looking hole in my arm that leaked blood all over my skin. "Are you hurt?" he asked next, taking a step closer to me. He was only five feet away. "Do you need help?"

He seemed genuine. Either the curious look in his eyes was very disguising or he actually seemed a little worried about me. I liked the latter guess better. "Just a ride," I found myself replying. What the actual heck was I doing? Trusting a complete stranger? Seemed like it. But it wasn't like I had many other options.

The man didn't even nod, just kept looking up and down to each of my wounds and the dirt scattered on my skin. "Where to?"

I breathed and thought for a long moment. The hospital? A police station? A working phone booth? "I don't know." I was drained. I couldn't think clearly.

"Are you in some kind of trouble with the cops?" he questioned me next. "'cause I ain't about to get in that."

I shook my head, trying to breathe through the pain etching through my body. "Not with the cops...let's just say I'm a runaway."

After a moment, the man looked away and around us like he was searching for someone suspicious. I don't think he found what he was looking for. "I'm on my way to a whole 'nother town...you can catch a ride with me if you'd like." His green gaze fell back on my arm. "I could get that cleaned up too." I considered his offer. What else did I have to lose at this point? "I'm not going to hurt you," he commented, catching on to my hesitation. "You have my word."

All I did was stare at him, searching for honesty in his eyes. I think I found it. "No offense, but your word doesn't mean much at all to me." Words meant nothing. Only actions.

He nodded once, his mind clearly busy with a lot of thoughts. "Come on if you want then." I watched him start walking to an old, rusted red truck. A dumb decision on my part? Maybe. But I followed him.