Hunger Run

Chapter 1

Run, run, run!

I need to move faster before they catch up with me, before it's too late.

Leaving the apartment so late at night was such a mistake. I usually always think this stuff through, take the proper precautions, and think better of it before being rash. If only Hermes hadn't gotten into the spice cabinet and eaten the garlic and onion powders. He was sick but would be recovering overnight at the vet's office. Stupid me waited far later than necessary at the vet's clinic just to be sure Hermes would pull through. The receptionist kept looking at the clock and out the door so concerned; even she knew better than I did and yet here I am proving the point.

"Shit, shit, shit," I seethed under my breath. That was stupid, too. I don't have the cardiovascular endurance to be wasting air on the obvious.

"Hey! Wait up, girly. We just wanna talk with you. Get to know you!"

Shit! They're so much closer than I thought. Every step I take is putting almost no distance between us. Just go away!

"Ah, screw that man. But I think she'll like what we have to show her, yeah?" He laughed at his own perverted joke. They didn't sound nearly far enough away yet, even as I tried to pick up the pace.

Left, left, straight, right, left, straight through. Quick left! Their footsteps were clearly audible slapping against the pavement, eager to claim their prey. I slipped into the closest alley, easing my way behind a dumpster. It would be very difficult to find me here so, I just had to wait it out.

The rhythm of their footsteps slowed as they approached the entrance to the alley. They padded casually inside definitely assuming I was here - correctly - and determined to put the chase to an end. Would that mean my untimely end? Probably.

I held my breath. The odor of trash was horrendous, but I was pretty sure my panting would give me away. I was feeling superbly light-headed by now. This night was a nightmare. I considered how much I would prefer being dead to facing whatever imaginings they had drawn up for me and it still looked to be the prime alternative. Maybe I could dash out of this alley into the road? They most likely were not looking to put roadkill on the menu.

I gave the option a moment's consideration. It was a shame though because the alley had three additional exits. This was the part of the city that transitioned into the suburban or at least more residential sector for housing. If they would just turn on their heels, assume they had isolated their search too soon, I could make a dash for the road parallel to the urban transition on housing and circle back to the apartment. I would sprint every step of the way, not even slowing once I was secured behind the automatic locks of the main doors. I would never neglect to fasten any of my unit's locks ever again and I could reclaim Hermes in the morning without another thought.

Moving forward I would be a model citizen of personal security. Maybe I'd pick up some more volunteer hours! The animal shelter doesn't take nearly enough of my free time. Perhaps a soup kitchen, picking up litter, or a local school needed some free labor.

Please, God, just don't let me die tonight. Whatever these guys had in store for me would ultimately result in my inevitable demise if we are being honest. There's no way they appreciated the marathon I put them through. I would certainly feel their dissatisfaction with my less-than-enthusiastic response to their invitations.

"Here kitty kitty. It's very much time to play. We know you couldn't have gone any further. Something you're carrying is very noisy, almost like you didn't want to escape at all." That was the big guy. He had a gross posture, tottering around the bins like a glutton.

There had been a jingling sound, but I had been too terrified to realize it was drawing them in to me. The charm bracelet my mom and my friends had put together for me over the years was stupidly distracting when I first got it, but now I was so used to the tinkling sounds I hardly ever noticed. No one at worked seemed to mind anymore for the same reason, it never came off. Carefully, I pulled my sweater's thick rolled-up cuff tight over the bracelet and gripped the excess fabric tight in the same hand. This way it couldn't be jostled noisily even if I got another chance to make a run for it.