Fighting the Losing Battle

Chapter 4 - Predator or Prey?

Told you I'd be back! I loved writing this chapter! How are you liking the cliff-hangers? Not sure how soon I will be able to update after this - each chapter is taking several hours to write at the moment, and I promised myself that I wouldn't let writing take over my entire life. Let's see how long that promise lasts then, shall we!? :)

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Unedited - Will be edited later (may contain spelling/grammatical mistakes) Enjoy! X

Kira POV

I daren't move. I can't move. It's as though my feet have been glued to the forest floor. My brain loses the ability to function properly. A feeling of fear, of utter despair and desperation, overwhelms me. It's too late. There's no escape now. I don't stand a chance against the dogs.

I can hear footsteps approaching, heavy, uneven. They seem to kick-start my body into action. Even before I can fully register what is happening, my feet are flying across the ground. I stumble blindly in the gloom, crashing through the undergrowth, pushing away stray tree branches that reach for me, like knarled fingers, trying to block my path. Occasionally I lose my footing due to the uneven ground; pain shoots through my right ankle, adding a sprain to my ever-growing list of injuries. Still I continue, gaining speed as I grow more accustomed to my surroundings. I have never had to make such a risky escape before today. I have always been a step ahead. They have caught me by surprise this time. Evading them has never been more crucial. Timing is everything. I can't give up now. Can't slow down. Can't get caught. I just can't. I have to try.

Without warning, the cool breeze, that I welcomed so much earlier, turns into an icy wind, relentless, no longer soothing my cuts, but causing them to burn even more. My lungs beg for oxygen; each shaky breath provides little relief, leaving me rasping and tortured. The freezing air rips through my veins; my hyper-active senses scream in protest, rendering them useless in the muddled complexity of this environment. My hair whips my face raw. My eyes stream in the bitter cold, the salty tears making my scratched face sting. For once in my life, I wish I wasn't so acutely sensitive.

I am no longer fighting against one enemy, but two. Enduring these unforgiving surroundings much longer will be equally as demanding as trying to evade the Equos Venaticus. In my current state, that alone may be more than I can withstand.

I'm so close to escaping, to that sweet taste of freedom, and yet I am so, so far from it. I feel completely drained, exhausted. All I want to do is sleep. Maybe sleep would provide an escape, at least from the wrenching pain. But I can't sleep, not now, no matter how much I want to. A part of me so desperately wants to give up, and yet I can't. Not when I'm this close.

Somehow, I keep running, picking up the pace, not noticing how the shadows are beginning to shrink away in the morning light. Not noticing that the forest is thinning out, the trees dying away around me. Not noticing how exposed I am.

Not until it is too late.

*

Lukas POV

They have been gone longer than I expected. I thought, maybe a couple of hours, three tops, then they would be back. Usually, the missions are fairly simple. Of course, they all put up a bit of a fight. Understandable – they know by then that they are about to die. Death is inevitable. We are highly trained: trained to kill. Well, the rest of the team are, I don't have the experience they do. Maybe that's something to do with the fact that they keep leaving me behind?

I never thought this would be my life, so aggressive, so violent. I'm not naturally a violent person. Honest. It might seem strange to you that I chose this lifestyle. You may wonder what could ever possess someone to choose this over a normal life. Believe me, I had my reasons.