The Chase

Through streaming, bloodshot eyes, a blurry image of the ethereal moon flooded her vision. The contorted, yet indiscriminate face watched patiently, as if awaiting the deliberation of her fate. Gasping violently, she was forced to halt. As she struggled to drink in the heavy air, she tried to imagine how it would be to be watching down on the forest from the lonely surface of her spectator, on a world forever swimming in freedom, surrounded by silence and where nothing, yet everything could hurt you. She closed her eyes and allowed herself precious seconds to float peacefully up into the dark of the night, before remembering her predicament. In her panic, a deep crack appeared in the sanctuary of her vision and there she was, in space without a helmet; the oxygen stolen from her weak lungs by the consuming abyss. She opened her eyes. And prepared herself to run. She didn't dare look back. 

Chillingly aware of the nightmare of reality, she felt the familiar ache of her heart beating against her chest and the stabbing of her empty lungs. Desperately she gazed into the distant silhouettes of the jagged peaks, and then to their feet, where colonies of amber lights peppered the darkness. Hope. She must escape the clutches of the forest. Either side of her stood towering birches; the skeletal guardians of the night, whose bony fingers swayed and snatched at their intruders in the still and windless valley. Beneath them, lay a carpet of lifeless bracken, its fire relinquished by a light cover of snow, which glistened like crystals in the moonlight. It would all be so beautiful if it wasn’t so terrifying. 

For less than a minute she had paused under the unrelenting gaze of the moon and still it was a minute too long. Although it was possible that they had abandoned tonight’s pursuit, it was clear that their uncharacteristic silence was not an indication of her escape. Somewhere, they watched and waited, with baited breath, enduring, persevering and relentless, determined to seal her fate. Glancing tenderly at the skinny bundle in her arms, she knew she needed to reach a place of safety. It hadn’t occurred to her that he hadn’t cried tonight. The village would be their salvation. It had to be.

Undeterred by her beaten body, she raced through the trees, ignoring the vivid aches of sudden famine and the searing tightness in her flank. Each step sent blistering pains shooting through her limbs, so with all her strength, she managed to fixate her mind on the sound of the crunching, frost-bitten leaves beneath her feet and inhale the innocence of his hidden face. Hours passed, miles were lost, and through her scorching tears, she could witness their nocturnal protector abandoning them behind the hills beyond. In its place, its malicious parody painted brushstrokes of and pink and red and gold across the sky, extinguishing the safety of the darkness and revealing her face to the monsters of the world. 

It was noon by the time she tore into the village with her silent prize. By now, the supremacy of the sun’s fire had driven the snow into hiding and transformed their refuge into an ugly commotion of cracked paint and exposed metals. Once striking trees lay butchered on the ground, some still leaking sap, which likened them to fallen giants following some great battle. Behind them, the mountains wept, as the glistening snow became lively streams, which cascaded over sheer rocky faces into the chaos below. From above, the mountains glared down at her, threatening the intrusion with razor sharp teeth of granite, which seemed to impend from every angle. It had been years since she had seen a vehicle and yet, here, the beasts seemed to terrorise every corner, charging around winding streets, as if in pursuit of invisible victims. Metal monsters. Terrible were the noises and the smells that they made; the coughing engines were like an endless fire of artillery and the putrid stench made her retch and splutter agonisingly. She would leave if she had a choice, but of course there was none. She couldn't outrun them alone. 

Emerging suddenly from behind a row of parked cars and lorries, a man spotted her from the other side of the road. A frown carved lines across his smooth forehead momentarily, then vanished just as quickly, and his pale face transformed into what she was sure he felt was a reassuring smile.

Although she didn't recognise him, he looked like them; he had their grey eyes, cold and colourless as the water on a winter lake, and hair as dark as the shadows of the forest. 

”You look like you're a long way from home,” he announced.

It wasn't a question.

”Let me help you find your way. I'm sure that you both could use some rest.”

His voice was like ice, smooth on the surface but constructed from hidden secrets that she had no wish to confront.

She clutched the bundle closer to her. It was obvious that she could not trust this pale-faced stranger but at the same time, he did not seem to know who she was, which could buy her the time she needed if she could slip away soon.

"Thank you, but I know where to go.”

Her voice wobbled. Tears fought to escape from her eyes. She was wrong. He did know her. He started to stride towards her, his face still arranged terribly into that reassuring smile. 

Then, more faces appeared. Men emerged from behind their metal fortresses, all with the same menacing smile and steely eyes, all walking towards her with the ease of a stride that suggested that they had not spent the night tearing after forest prey.

"Stupid girl," she thought and hated herself with a loathing she had not thought herself capable of, as she finally released her angry tears and allowed them to carve rivers of white down her filthy face. 

"There was no chase. They knew you'd come." Her voice shattered. 

And finally, she allowed herself to scream. As all the strength escaped her swollen, broken body, it buckled terribly beneath her. Sounds of hurried footsteps echoed like divine thunder, as she felt a bone in her ankle crack. His delicate face filled her vision, as her limbs convulsed and contorted. The metallic taste of blood filled her parched mouth and she was in the void once more, once again without her helmet, once again with her lifeline stolen. Streaming, bloodshot eyes revealed the blurry image of his perfect face, as her head shattered against the stone paving and decorated it with her crimson fuel. The bundle remained wrapped in her arms.