Unnatural Instinct: Blood Run

26.

Two women on horses gallop towards you. What must they think? That you're just another impregnated, naked woman seeking safety from the monster who's raped and abandoned you, that' s what. They don't know the truth.

You stop, hunching over and gripping your knees as you gasp for breath. They pull up in front of you. You try to speak but the words stick in your throat. One is fairly young, the other older. Both are wearing boiled leather armour and have their hair tied up in braids. Both wear a variety of weapons including knives and swords and guns.

They look angry. They're angry over what's happened to you.

They say things to you but they speak too fast and it's hard to make sense of things.

You try to explain that you're fine but the words won't come. Instead, you growl and spit. The two women look at each other in surprise.

Tell my mother and Annie that I'm all right, you say.

But again, all you do is growl and spit and snarl. This isn't working. You've already forgotten so much. You've changed too much. You try to speak your name, but for the life of you, you can't remember what it is.

'Come!' speaks the younger woman as she dismounts. Finally, a simple, singular word you can understand.

The younger woman seizes your arm but you yank out of her grasp, stepping back as you shake your head. Still mounted, the older woman is scanning the trees for danger. Others are gathering at the front of the gates, no doubt curious about what's going on.

'... take her,' the older woman speaks. She says more but the words rattle emptily in your head. You sense her wariness, however, and her fear. She's keeping an eye out for any males who might be waiting to snatch them up.

'Come. Let's go.' The younger woman seizes your arm again. You try to yank away but her grip is firm. Then the second woman dismounts. Together, they try to hustle you back to the gates, gripping both your arms as they shout meaningless words at you.

Several other women come rushing over.

Let go! you snarl uselessly as you thrash in their grips. Let go! Let go! Let go!

Just as the other women reach you, you all turn at the sound of a roar. It's a terrifying sound, even when you know that the beast making it is nothing to fear—at least, not for you to fear. The horses whinny and thud their hooves. The two women release you as the older woman unloads her handgun and the younger woman pulls out a knife. A third woman aims a shot gun.

You glance at the guns, at the enormous watchtower with its waiting cannon, then spin around to face the forest. He hasn't appeared yet but you can hear him crashing through the trees.

'No!' you scream and charge away from the women.

There's nothing else you can do but try to stop him. You can't speak. They don't understand you. None of this is going to plan. He could die!

Your feet scream in pain as you run. Your heart thuds so hard it makes your ears ring. Then you see him—he crashes out into the open, raising an arm against the glaring sunlight as he does.

'No!' you manage again. 'Stop!'

He sees you and runs straight for you, the sun blazing against his head and big shoulders. His hair is a tangle of knots and glistens with sweat. His strong, muscular legs carry him towards you, so fast it's astonishing.

There's the crack! of a shooting gun. Your mate staggers and for a moment it's as if your heart stops beating. Ice fills your veins. He's been shot! But he regains his balance and continues his sprint. A branch breaks off from a tree behind him in a haze of dust.

They've missed!

'STOOOOP!' you scream as you race towards him, and you don't know whether you're shouting at him or at the women shooting.

Another crack! You clap your hand against your ear with a start at the sound of a dreadful whistle through the air. They only just missed you. What are they thinking?

Finally reaching him, you leap and slam into him. He clasps you to his chest as you knock him backwards and throw him to the ground. You tumble together. His heavy weight crushes you into the grass, stealing the air from your lungs and mashing your face hard into the earth. By the time you stop moving, you somehow manage to be on top, and just in time too—the women are racing over, shouting, weapons raised.

'No!' you cry, throwing yourself over him, chest to chest, trying to cover as much of his body with yours. 'No hurt!'

You're weeping as you press your face into his throat. His heart is racing and it pounds against yours. Your weeping turns to sobbing. As you hear them gather close behind you, you spread your arms and legs out more. He doesn't move, only pants beneath you.

'What ... doing, girl?' someone says. 'Get up.'

'No.'

'Up!'

You enfold yourself around him as much as you can, given how big he is.

Another woman speaks. It's hard to put the words together in your evolving—or is it de-evolving?—mind. 'Let ... go. He ... animal ... danger .... must be destroyed.' Her voice is fierce, and you know she's pointing her weapon at you both.

He's no animal, you snarl.

Silence falls.

'What was that?' someone says.

You struggle with your words. 'No leave. No home ... Annie ... Mama.' You grit your teeth as you struggle to remember your name. It's on the tip of your tongue. It sits like a rock at the back of your throat. If you can remember it, it'll make things so much easier. Grimacing, you close your eyes ....

There!

Snapping your eyes open, you shout it out, then cry, 'Get Annie. Get Mama.'

The women start arguing with each other. You try to understand but it's impossible, their words a jumbled mess. You curl yourself tighter around your mate, pressing your face deeper into his neck, hoping, praying. Finally, they seem to come to an agreement. They stop arguing and you hear the pounding of hooves as what sounds like two of them ride back to the village.

'... you hurt?' speaks the same voice that called your mate an animal.

'No.'

Raising your head, you look into your mate's eyes. You've underestimated him. He must know the danger, lying as still and quiet as he is. He looks back at you with that warm, hazel gaze. You give a little whine. He looks sad.

You start licking his face. Behind you, someone sucks in a breath. Another murmurs something in surprise. They're shocked—and disgusted. But you keep going. What they think means nothing to you now.

Grabbing his head, you lap at his mouth. You push your tongue between his lips but he's not kissing you back. You whine again. What's wrong?

He doesn't answer, just continues to look at you sadly.

From the distance comes the pounding of more hooves. A familiar voice screams your name.

You turn over. Your heart leaps.