WANTED (Sequel to One Hell of a Maid)

Chapter 17: WANTED, DEAD OR ALIVE

My legs pound on the bright greenery of the thick forest, smashing and forming a narrow path.

I've been running for what seems like all night, I haven't stopped. Not to change from my white bloodied nightdress, or even to put on a pair of shoes. Not that my dress shoes would help any. My boots are still somewhere in the mansion. I didn't have time to grab them when I escaped.

Only when the sun blossoms fully in the sky do I stop near a running stream to drink from the cool, fresh water and pick out the thorns from the bottom of my bleeding feet and legs.

I feel numb to the pain and cold water as I strip and rinse the blood from my hair and body. Once as clean as I can be without the use of soap I dry the best I can and dress in a simple grey dress. But I know that I wouldn't be able to move as freely with it on. I'd have to use the money Ciel had given me. Thank God I had all my money in my suitcase.

From how much Simon talked about the land I should be only a couple hours walk from the nearest town. I'd have to be quick in buying supplies though. I'm not sure how far it's spread that I'm a "murderer".

I sigh closing my eyes tight, not even bothering to ask myself how this could happen. It won't change anything. It won't change that I've been uprooted from another home and that I owe Sebastian from saving me from being caught and hung on a tree like some dead ornament.

I blink up at the cerulean blue sky through the tangle of spindly branches, how will I get out of this one?

The drifting clouds don't answer, figures.

I sigh, setting back off, this time at a slower more careful pace. I am far enough away now that I should not have to worry about getting caught, at least not until I reach the town.

Birds twitter their happy song and small critters like squirrels and rabbits scamper about, going on with their animal business.

My feet make a shushing sound through the fallen leaves. I wonder how long away the desert is.

I smile as a fond memory surfaces. I was about five when my father brought me out to the desert for the first time.

It was a scorching day out and the night before I had heard stories from travelers about the cowboy's and ruffians trampling around there. They talked of prickly cactuses, the hot burning sun, cold nights, and beautiful fiery sunsets. Naturally, I wanted to go.

And so my father, wishing to sate my curiosity so I didn't try to go by myself took me on his horse Chuck to the desert. It was him and I, for my mother didn't wish to go. She was a proper lady, despite being raised by the Siren's.

I remember how I laughed and was so happy to finally go, but when we finally reached it all I saw was barren land and tumbleweeds, with the hot sun beating down on my back.

I was so disappointed, I wanted to see a land of wonder and amazement, with adventure and danger. My father immediately saw my crest fallen face and helped guide me to see the beauty in the desert.

With his helpful nudge I was able to see it. The sandy hard ground, the amazing heat and blinding sun. We adventured through the desert, and I saw the spiky cactuses blooming bright flowers, and even saw a lone horse galloping with a cowboy on his back.

That was one lesson my father taught me that I still carry. Beauty is not always skin deep.

I smile to myself, it is no longer a melancholy but happy one. The Siren case was terrible but there was some things that came good of it. One being that I was able to find peace with my parent's death. The other that I was no longer a naive little girl. I was able to begin finding out who I am, however, I'm still searching for answers about myself and my past.

The trees suddenly diverge, I sheild my eyes, blinded from the naked light, unfiltered by the trees. From up ahead I spot a small town resting in a nook like area. It's innocent enough but somewhere inside there are sheriffs and officers that could know that I'm a "murderer." With my luck I'll be arrested on the spot.

But I don't have a choice, I'm in desperate need for supplies and this is the only way.

I stride down the hill I emerged from. Hills surround the town, keeping it safe from winds and potential thieves or ruffians. It's a nice place really, a good place to settle down.
I could lay low here, live in an abandoned barn or something until the heat dies.
As I near the town, I realize it to be impossible.

I don't understand how it could of spread so soon, or even how they were able to get my picture but nailed to a wood shop at the edge of town is my picture. My WANTED sign, grouped with others wanted for their various crimes.

My breathing comes out shaky as I read the description written in neat handwriting under my picture.

Ebony Shale, a young adult female with black hair and turquoise eyes. Tall and curvy with tanned skin. Wanted for the murder of many farmers and the slaughter of their livestock.

Above my picture are the words on all the posters, WANTED. But those words aren't the ones that chill me to the bone, that make me feel hallow and already lynched.

Underneath those words in font only slightly smaller are the words that make me react this way. I bite my lip drawing blood. The taste of iron pervades my mouth, the taste sharp on my tongue.

WANTED
DEAD OR ALIVE.