Alexandria: The Lost Princess

Chapter 4 - Part 2

Her scream pierces the air, Kale's eyes widen, mirroring my reaction. Frozen in place, ur conversation ceases.

"Marcus wouldn't?

I hesitate, thinking of that fiery girl, bloodied and broken, still fighting us to the end. She would run, and he wouldn't consider being gentle.

"Damn straight he would," Kale hisses, echoing my thoughts.

We rush into the field, Marcus is dripping in his own blood. His arm is limp at his side, it lobs with his movements. Lifting his axe, he drives the metal deep into the wolf's side. The creature goes limp, stuck to the blade, dripping blood, in Marcus's victory.

Marcus falls to a knee, his finger slides over the ice gem embedded in his axe respectfully in tribute to his kill. His arm swaying at his side dislocated. Blood falls from his fingertips. If he looked like this, then that thing caught him off guard.

Scanning the field for Chloe, my breath becomes shallow. She's gone. Marcus groans under Kalen's touch and I march over to him.

"Where is she?" I snap.

Kalen pulls Marcus' sleeve apart, ripping it completely off. Deep puncture wounds spew blood, the bite is gruesome.

"Wilfrid, stop it," Kalen warns me.

"She went that way." Marcus lobs his head in the direction of the forest, farther from the wagon. She ran, deeper into the forest, where more danger can surround her. The idiot. "I told her to run," he confesses.

She hadn't run away?

"Go!" Kale orders, understanding my feelings. His shout echoes through me, and I bound into the forest.

Not again, I won't go through this again. I won't lose her again.

The ground is scattered with dents and prints. Abnormal nicks in the dirt pull my interest. Little divots of toe prints give evidence to her running. Her footprints barely have a chance to create an indent. The obviously snapped branches showing her path, she's ripping through them, clumsy in fright. A deep footprint brings me to a standstill. Why had she stopped? I look through the bushes and see the path continue on farther. Pressing my fingers into the dirt, I test for blood splatter. Examining the soil on my hands, no trace of blood, and I sigh with relief.

A small blur scurries through the bushes in the distance. A flash of memory brings me back in time. Anne.

Following her movements deeper into the forest, I call out, "Chloe!"

Her dark tendrils twist behind her, thick with dirt and leaves. Another memory flashes before me, Anne's dark hair swirls behind her. She fleas calling out for me. Desperate to survive.

Shaking my head of the memory, I'm drawn back to reality. Much like her hair, Chloe's dress is covered in mud and blood. Her frightened eyes connect with mine, another memory of Anne twists painfully into my head. Emerald eyes shine with distress at the sight of me. Those eyes are nothing like Anne's a soft hazel.

Chloe bounds through the forest, my distractions allow her some escape. "Chloe, come on," I groan.

She looks like a banshee, wild and crazed, desperate to escape. Chasing her is doing me no good. I'll need to change tactics to stall her.

Whipping my bow out, I take aim, "Don't move!"

She pushes on, and I let the arrow fly. It twists through the trees, spiralling forward. Plunging down before her, she skids to a stop and falls back onto her bottom. I chuckle, "I told you not to move."

She scurries back, scooting herself away. My little show of skill hasn't fizzed her enough. Tugging my blade from my side, I flick it out on display. Each step I take towards her she pushes herself back to match.