The wicked will Parish | A Ben Parish FanFic |

Chapter 9 | A Grasp

I hadn't realized how long I've been here, it seems to have been longer than I intended because the sun was beginning to set. I stood, the pain was still there but bearable. I was dizzy, but I decided maybe there'd be aspirin or something here for the dizziness and maybe something strong enough for my leg pain.

I moved quickly, I realized it helped with the pain.

~

It's dusk now, the sky behind me was beginning to turn a dark shade of blue and purple-ish. The sun was just falling into the valley of mountains and buildings in the horizon.

This reminded me of the many drives Elise and I use to take just before sunset.

I walked and looked and walked, there was nothing of a save Haven. I wanted to go back home, to Jamestown. Live there by myself. It was small and there was still plenty of supplies for survival. Good, water, all that good stuff.

By the time I decided to head back the sun had set and the sky was beginning to turn grey. I walked around in the forest for cover. I was just off the highway that headed towards Jamestown, but I was across town. That meant I wouldn't be there till tomorrow night.

It's the first time I realize I was limping. Almost like my leg dragged underneath me. And the leaves crunched louder.

The sound of rumbling distracted me. Rumbling like a truck, or a bus, maybe even a semi. My first that was what the hell. Who in the hell got a truck to work. And how.

My mind was distracted by a beam of headlights just in front of me, blinding my vision. I drifted, I was near the highway and I began to panic. I couldn't run fast with my limp, so I hid quickly behind a large tree.

The rumbling continued but it didn't moved, like the truck had stopped. It saw me, fuck. I'm not sure why but my first instinct is to hold my breath, I felt like that could hear me if I began to breath to loud. Like that had some super human ability to hear me.

I hear multiple footsteps, the crunching and cracking of leaves and twigs was getting closer. I listen, there is a total of three men.

I had to estimate the close proximity of each man, the first one was currently right behind me, there's a quick whip, which means they have guns. And there footsteps are heavy and almost tired, they had boots on.

The second was just feet away from the first one to the right, he was slightly closer then the one to the left- the third one. The bright lights of the truck were still on, and the light barely made it past the tree she was standing by.

The first man was getting closer, I needed to relax if I wanted to escape. I had to outsmart three grown ass men.

What if they were the Others. Would I be able to escape? Surely if they saw me run they'd shoot me then and there. All this ran through my mind in the matter of seconds before I decided to fight my way through it.

I reaching into the waist of my pants and pulled out my hunting knife. He's coming, just behind me. I squeeze my eyes closed and listen to his foot steps. He reached the trees. Another step he's right beside it. Another he's right beside me. I open my eyes quickly and throw my arm out to slash his throat.

He reached for his throat, wrapping his hands around him to stop any bleeding. But even then it began to pour out from between his fingers. Not a single sound was made- he dropped his gun, the strap around his shoulders tugged the gun, preventing it from falling to the floor- until he began gurgling and choking on his own blood.

His blood poured out of his mouth with every gurgle, and his blood sprayed out with every choke.

"John?" I deep voice asked from the left. I was hidden from his view. I was only lucky to catch him off guard.

This supposed 'John' began to lean forward. Falling face forward, with his hands falling to his side. There was blood now on the ground. The leaves and twigs underneath him painted in the thick red liquid.

Without a second to spare, the other soldiers ran towards him body. Their foot steps grew louder and closer with every passing second.

Again I squeeze my eyes together, gripping my knife. I was mentally preparing myself. This could be the last thing I do.

They're right next to the body, Huffing. One of them shuffled towards the tree I was behind. This was my opportunity. And I was gonna take it.

There he was, his foot appeared beside me. I threw my arm out again to hit him with the knife, but he blocked me with his gun. The impact stung my arm and I loosened my grip on the knife. Dropping it to the floor.

I gripped his gun, throwing it back at him towards his nose. I bashed it again and again. His head flew back the third time, this time blood dripped from his mouth. Before his body began to fall, I grabbed his riffle and shot the other man as quickly as I could- he was dead before the other body dropped to the floor.

A loud groan came from below me. After three hard bashes to the head he refused to die. It threw the butt of the gun towards his face. I picked it back up and threw it back down. Hold it now with both hands, gripping till my knuckles turned white.

His stopped fighting after the seventh bash. I stood, Dropping the gun. I felt blood on my face and whipped it quickly.

For some reason, I've never felt more relieved. Never so more calm. Or determined. I might even dare say, I enjoyed it.

Gun clicks and hard feet shuffling behind me brought me back to the present. Snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Put your hands up." Someone tells behind me. I don't want to die. I pray, dear god please don't let them kill me. "And turn around. Slowly."

I turn slowly, sucking my feet. Bringing my hands up. I hadn't realized until now that they're ere all soldiers. They all wore baggy camo cargo pants and thick vests of the same camo pattern.

The truck was actually a bus, the lights still bright but beaming away from my face. I notice there are five more soldiers. There are little to no chances of me getting out of this situation without complying.

"How old are you?" Someone asks. I don't know whether of not to answer but the soldier would say other wise. "Answer me."

"Sixteen." I wince. The pain in my leg was creeping back up.

"Colonel, she's just a kid." The same man shouts over his shoulder. Through all of this, they all keep there's guns pointed at me.

A man begins to emerge from the bus. It was now to dark to see anything, but the bus lights illuminated the area. The man was bolder then the rest of the soldiers. His didn't wear a helmet but he still had the thick vest.

He walks over to me, stood a few feet away from me. "Stand down." His voice is harsh, raspy yet demanding. Then he takes one good look at me and looks back over towards the soldier who called him over.

"We'll what are you waiting for. Put her in the bus, she's injured." He demanded. This time clutching his arms behind his back.

As the soldier walks onto the bus with two soldiers trailing behind him, I swear I hear him say. 'She'll be useful'.