A Smile to Hide (CYOA/WWYFF)

Chapter 11

    Father Gordon is really after you!  For whatever purpose, you are his target, and home isn’t safe.  Anywhere, where he can find you, isn’t safe.  With that altar, if whatever it was truly worked for him, not even the darkest corner of the world would be safe.  The only good thing is that you managed to hold on to your hairbrush while you run from home.  The only person that you can think of that you would be safer with is Mr. Talbot, Quanisha’s father.  He’s been off of everyone’s radar for three years, and, he definitely knows a thing or two about rituals; something you don’t think Dr. Phillips would know much about.  With only the hairbrush with the braid wrapped around it, and the fear still pounding away in your heart as your feet continue to hit the pavement, you run as far and as fast as you can.

    When you make it out of Winston-Salem, your chest starts to hurt from exhaustion, but you refuse to stop.  You will not stop anywhere tonight.  You can’t afford to if that table was used for cursing people. 

    The bike path runs alongside the highway, so it keeps you out of the tall grass without endangering you from any cars.  Even though it was past two in the morning, and cars were rare at this time of night, you didn’t want the chance to be seen walking, especially not by a cop.  You’re so wrapped up in thinking of ways of how not to return home, you forget the other dangers that night and being alone can bring.

    A couple of hours are spent walking, and just as you can see the hopeful specks of city lights, you hear a deep growl.  Slowly, you turn around and face it.  Whatever it is, it’s low to the ground on all fours, and its eyes reflect an eerie blue.  It continues to growl and snap its jowls at you.

    If it’s a feral dog, the only thing you can do at this point is keep your hands to your sides and hope it decides to not knock you down.  If it’s a wolf, you know that there are others, and the chance for escape is extremely slim.  If it’s something else—a very likely thing since you can’t recognize the growling—you’re probably screwed.  You don’t know if its saliva contains deadly bacteria, you don’t know if it’s a pack hunter, and you don’t know if it gets scared off if you act big and ferocious.  Shaking, and hoping it’s just a dog is all you do.

    It lunges at you and clamps down on your arm, pulling you off of your feet, and even with the brush at hand, it’s not much of a weapon.  There are times when you’ve gotten the chance to get back on your feet to run, it would just jump on you again and tear at you.  You keep fighting to get to the city lights, adrenaline and shock coursing through you, all the while you just hope that, if you do die, the adrenaline continues to kick in until your heart stops beating. 

    You never make it to the city.