Antecedent (Tex Sawyer)

Antecedent 1

AN: a huge thank you to Charlie Inconvenient_Ideal for making my cover and editing for me. It's been a long time since I have wrote anything so apologies in advance if it's poor. 'And here we go.'

...

Panic, desperation, blood; through the harsh trees and rough ground there was only one way out. Time was not on my side, behind the shrill and echoing voices that seemed to resonate loudly amongst the unforgiving branches; the withered boughs bending and twisting in claw like appendages that pulled and tore at whatever clothing they could grasp onto. Traps, danger, evil, it was suffocating, only helped less by the pleading pounding heart wanting no more than for the running to stop. Breath captured in my throat and ringing in my head as my sides burned from the relentless speed I attempted to keep.
There was no turning back, stumbling was out of the question too. Any pause for recovery meant less time to run, to escape and more time for them to come nearer, ever closer. By sheer will power, I refused to feel the injuries that had been inflicted on me so far. Onwards, forwards, upwards just not back. The low hungry rumble vibrated in the eerily empty forest around me which only made the desperation more frantic. My knees were ready to shatter but I panted and coaxed myself to move. I wasn't safe, I was outnumbered, every and all angles were a potential vantage point.
There was nowhere to hide, they knew the woodland and trails off by memory alone, this was their territory and I was the visitor. Time was running out and the road was nowhere to be seen. They were coming and they were close. Got to keep going, and do not look back. But as the tip of my boot collided onto something heavy and tight, I felt and heard my shriek of horror. The surprise and mortifying prospect of what just happened was only propelled by my body falling forwards, hitting the ground and against better judgement I looked back at the figure that moved in shadow.
Visitor was the wrong word. I was a victim and to them this was routine and sport for them. The chainsaw gleamed under the pale moonlight, the yellow of a blood-stained apron peeking out from the darkness and ready to attack.
~
There was a limit, I thought gently fanning myself with the folded down map, a limit to how far you could drive before the sickness of travel and heat caught up. The temperature had been spiking upwards with every drawn-out minute as the last of our water bottles neared empty. The sun was out to punish any unprepared travellers and we fit into that category for the moment.
"There's meant to be somewhere nearby," Troy had reassured. There was an attempt to sway the other passengers with the thought of maybe more affordable priced gas, but where there was a gas station, there was also commodities. The city charged a high price for nearly everything, gas included. So somewhere cheap was a good prospect to go by, even if by this time, in the middle of nowhere anyone could charge a high premium for the simplest things.
This had been something which we had butted heads on for a moment, the fact that people were desperate on the outskirts could work either way. Sure, we could be given the materials cheaper but contrary wise it could be triple the price as it was the last chance before being on endless routes and they would be endless. The map which was in my hand rather proved this point, but we had agreed when discussing this trip to make things fair to avoid arguments and I was outnumbered. So, I had sat back quietly watching as what went from rows of homes turned into endless hot roads and burning yellow sand littered with the occasional armadillo laying on its back imprinted with a tire track or two.
"I hate you." A voice declared from the back seats, followed by the sound of gentle impact as Troy gave a yelp from surprise clearly having been on the verge of dosing off before a very fed-up Sherri decided to give him a rude awakening with a flick of her wrist. Through the mirror I saw the reaction of the blonde, even her usually ripe blossom lips appeared drained and on the verge of chapping, her hair tied up as droplets of sweat gave her a

gentle but unkind shine only emphasised by her irritated glare. "This is why girls are smarter."
"Don't say that," Joel sighed exasperated from my side as I felt his teal eyes inspect me wearily, with little hesitation I smirked allowing my arrow shaped lips to spread upwards and tilted my head. "There is nothing more dangerous than telling Lori that she's right." With his beard glistening he shook his dark head and uttered the word 'don't.' "Please don't start." "Don't be shy, speak your mind, honey." I teased holding onto the coffee tinted fedora hat I had borrowed from him, allowing the roar of wind to offer sweet relief as I took to winding down the window as I noticed we were all beginning to cook and swelter in such a confined space. "Suddenly you're wanting to recount the votes, right?" Brushing a shoulder against his broader one, a ring of laughter slipped out of me as he exclaimed in false defeat. "There it is, the 'I told you so', that's why I didn't want Sherri to start you off."
"I don't have to say I told you so, I feel now it's poor Troy who is outnumbered." Shrugging, I kept myself steady against the body of the taller man, my auburn hair glinting under the rays of the resilient sun. The ash haired male at the back breathed an audible insult under his breath earning another swift hit from his agitated girlfriend. "Don't be a sore loser, you can be right next time."
"Yeah, well you just be grateful." He mumbled back sourly, "You could all be needing a piss." Turning my head amused at the childish response, he just shook a humoured head back at me, "You are such a bitch."
"How rude."
"But accurate." Troy said leaning gingerly into the corner space of the seat as Sherri reached over as far as her belt would allow her to reach him ordering him to apologise. It was a foolish thought that he would even consider as such, from middle school alone we had had a bond that regulated more around insults and teasing, the closest I would ever get to a sibling being an only child was Troy Dalton. "Babe, quit it."
Leaving him to be swatted I tore the attention of my hazel eyes forwards hoping to make an outline of a building or even a person that could guide us to the closest store. The map was a basic one
unfortunately, roads and streets but even they decided on a cutting off point. Squinting with a frown, I pushed my hands on the leather fabric of the seat before speaking Joel's name. Whether it was the
dehydration deciding to play tricks or our luck was starting to come through.
"I see it," Joel responded. Keeping one hand on a steering wheel as his other gently squeezed my knee, with some people kissing was more effective or official but with him it was always the little gestures that said more than words ever could. "Ready to stretch your legs?"
"Legs? I'll be grateful to move my ass!" What had started out as an early morning venture was dragging well into the afternoon, food of course would be great for later but if worse came to worse we had tents crammed in the boot along with a few cans of food and sausages. At least to that extent we were prepared and ready but water, I was certain, was something so necessary that wouldn't be overlooked again under the brutality of the Texas heat and sun which we had sincerely underestimated.
Even opting for the more comfortable shorts that admittedly hitched up a little close to comfort, I had tried to allow myself the ability to cool down, it felt like it had done little but as opposed to being covered by full denim I wonder if really it had made a difference of if the day was just that tough.
"Agreed." Joel nodded as the gravel under the wheels crunched a bit louder as we broke off to the left of the road to the small clearing. It was a little unorthodox to see a standalone