Against all odds (The Pack)

Chapter 45

Warnings: mentions of blood and death

~Preston's P.O.V.~

Lungs searing, muscles screaming in protest, I crash my way through the forest, hot tears spilling down my cheeks as I leave my friends behind. Somewhere behind me I can hear the sound of pursuit, and despite every part of my body willing me to stop running, I push on. I pass mobs of all sorts, but don't pay any mind to them, instead focusing on forcing myself to keep moving. Branches whip past my face as I dodge around trees and plow through hedges, eating up distance and not stopping for a moment until my body basically shuts itself down, and I trip, crashing and skidding across the forest floor.

I lay there dazed for a moment, my world spinning, everything a blur, tears clouding my vision. Shallow scratches sting from where branches and thorns raked my skin, and I partially regret taking off my diamond armour. But with it on, I might not have escaped. Just visible through the thick canopy of leaves, they sky is a dull blue, and sunlight is just starting to seep through the trees. Pushing myself into a sitting position, I pant heavily, lungs heaving and burning as they gulp in large intakes of air. It's hard to tell how long I've been running-all I know is that I'm completely and utterly alone.

And that my friends are gone.

Fresh bright orange tears spring to my eyes, and I back against a birch tree, pulling my knees up to my chest and sobbing loudly. After all this time, after everything we've been through, they're all gone. Taken by some stupid Rouges. They could very well be dead! Just the thought of it causes me to bawl harder, shivering and hugging myself tightly, grief streaking through me.

I don't know how long I sit here, crying until there's no more tears to shed, and then some. By the time I raise my head, still whimpering feebly, sunlight is glowing through the trees, much brighter than before. With shaking knees I rise unsteadily to my feet, using the tree behind me for support. I wipe the excess tears from my face with the sleeve of my hoodie, sniffling and rubbing at my eyes. I shake my head, trying to pull myself together. Come on Preston. You're better than this. I scold myself, exhaling shakily. There's no reason I should automatically assume they're dead. That jag Roxanne probably has them locked up somewhere, just waiting for me to come in and beg for her to release them. She's probably going to try and use them as leverage against me. Ha! Like I'll fall for that.

Dissing Roxanne makes me feel slightly better, and I laugh to myself, a smile spreading onto my face. I re equip my armour, latch my sword to my side, and start marching back the way I came. She'll be expecting me to come back, to try and challenge her, and the somehow use the imprisonment of my friends against me. But I'm better than that now. Through this time I've been travelling, I've changed from my former self. I'm smarter. Braver. And now... I'm not alone.

But before I go confront her... I'm going to need some backup.

~~~

~Mitch's  P.O.V.~

Two weeks later...

     It seems like months have past since our abduction back in the birch forest. But it's hard to say how long we've really been here. There's no sense of time in this cold, dark, cell. The only light source available to us is through a small barred peep hole in the rotting wooden door, where a torch flickers silently in the damp long corridor. The hall serves to connect all the prison cells. The only time that stupid door opens is when Rogues come to deliver us more food or water. My stomach churns at the imagine of the revolting food, if it even deserves to be called that. At first the five of us had denied the food, preferring to starve to death rather than eat the putrid smelling glop. We survived solely on the limited supply of stale water we were brought. But eventually we knew we'd have to eat something, so we forced ourselves to consume it. The first time we did, Vikk threw up, and the rest of us bore awful stomach aches for hours. A small hole in the corner of the room serves as our 'luxury' toilet, and needless to say the five of us distance ourselves as much as we can from that corner of the cell.