❝ Sheep abide by the herd complex; safety in numbers. When all are the same, no one can be singled out.
A fox among sheep is able to infiltrate the herd only a handful of ways: under the veil of dusk, or by clothing itself as the prey, shedding i...
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THE FOREST IS a master of playing tricks on the mind. There's a way about it in which it can make you hear things- see thingsthat aren't there, or conceal the things that are, right up until it's too late. Nature is a cruel environment to be born into, only embracing the strongest of her children. Though, on occasion, she lends the helping hand of mercy.
All were hoping that hand was where Shazia had landed, guarding her from the ever-changing wrath of the elements, and from the creatures who inhabited the forest, not to be scattered in pieces for her rescuers to find. Jonah knew it was a vivid possibility that could be the outcome. To find a girl's mutilated flesh being feasted upon by scavengers, or her rotting corpse at the bottom of a ditch.
There are many different ways the forest can choose to break its victims, if the animals hadn't gotten to her first, like the weather. Maybe it would weaponise the daggering chills of the wind? Or infect her lungs with pneumonia, bestowed by the rain. It might even go for a more sadistic means, by breaking her mind. Starvation; hunger so great it would feel like her stomach was ingesting itself. Or the suffocating paranoia of the night, where every single rustle in the trees or crunch of a leaf would keep sleep at bay.
Or perhaps something far more ominous.
The chances of Shazia's survival were slim. To some, non-existent. However, it would be foolish to underestimate the human drive for survival. When faced with desperation, many would exceed limits never thought possible. Whether it was sacrificing another to save themselves, or forcefully taking what they don't have from the less fortunate, the human drive for survival shouldn't be underestimated.
There's a thin line between selfishness and self-preservation; both are equally powerful things. Jonah had seen it first-hand countless times over. The will to live is a difficult flame to extinguish, but not impossible. Even the smallest of embers have been responsible for the most destructive of wildfires. So as long as there was a spark, there was hope.
Elise had messaged him the location of the town hall earlier, explaining that's where they'd all be given the rundown on what was to ensue. After a frosty, ten-minute walk, Jonah found himself in front of a building that looked like more of a medieval castle than a town hall.
It didn't seem as old as some of the other structures in Bêtemont, having been recently renovated. Concrete steps led up to six grey stone, sculpted pillars, supporting the extended roof and a Juliette balcony, garnished with two poles in the middle, displaying the French flag and the banner of arms of Lozère. There was an abundance of people; primarily volunteers in high-vis jackets, as well as non-uniformed individuals, all hurrying past one other on the front lawn, while some hung back on the steps. Jonah was more surprised to see a group of men dressed in hunting gear preparing their firearms; a combination of shotguns and rifles.
