The Chase

Bummer!

I could hear dogs in the distance. They were louder than they had been a few minutes ago. My breath came in thick gasps, pain stitching my side as I fought for air.

I hadn’t run this far in years.

As I ducked under a low branch the lower edge painfully scraped the top of my head. ‘Who am I kidding?’ I thought to myself, ‘I’ve never ran this far.’ 

I topped out the hill and slowed my pace to a walk, giving one last glance behind me before I started down the other side. I could still hear the dogs, but couldn’t see them.

Yet. 

My mind raced through each pressing need. Water. First, I needed to get to water. Every time a guy escaped from the police in the movies he ran through water to evade dogs. I knew that water typically ran downhill, so the best chance of finding a creek was at the bottom of the hill. I glanced quickly at my watch and shook my head. Time was pressing on. I needed to find water.

I began moving down the hill cautiously, keeping my speed steady to avoid losing control and falling. The last thing I needed was a broken leg.

I wondered how close the nearest creek was. 

I wondered if those dogs watched the same movies I had watched. 

My pace slowed further as I considered this. If they guessed I would head for the creek, would they send someone there to cut me off? 

I shook my head as I berated myself for my simplicity, then turned and cut across the hill sideways. I couldn’t go for the creek, dogs or not, because they would guess that. But how would I get them off my scent? 

I slowed again, listening intently for the sounds of pursuit, straining my ears for the slightest sound. The dogs were much fainter now. ‘Probably the result of topping the hill,’ I thought.

Absently, my mind searched for the term… Doppler Effect, maybe? 

I picked up my pace again, shoving that question to the back of my mind as I worked on how to throw the dogs off my trail. I could leave a false trail… 

Stopping, I turned around and immediately began backtracking along my path. I jogged about fifty feet, and then cut to the left, heading back down the hill. 

Maybe they would follow the other trail, assuming I would have guessed that they had watched the same movies and knew I wouldn’t head toward water, because they expected it…

My thoughts trailed off. It was all too convoluted at this point and it was making my brain hurt. 

I was moving too fast now as I headed down the hill at a rapid clip. I grabbed the side of a ladder to slow my descent.

I tried to stop suddenly, sliding several feet in the leaves before I came to a complete halt. A ladder? In the woods? I looked up, noticing then that the ladder led to a small fort in the trees about 20 feet above me. Obviously a deer stand, but not used recently. 

With a final glance toward the top of the hill, I rapidly climbed the ladder to the stand. I had a faint hope that the last hunter that used the stand had left a cache of weapons on site, but that hope was dashed as I entered the small structure to find it empty, other than a single chair. I huffed—annoyed—and began descending the ladder, berating myself for my waste of time, when a small bottle in the corner caught my attention. 

Curious, I pulled myself back in the structure and grabbed the bottle. “Doe urine?” I read aloud, my voice sounding strange in the silence. “What..?” 

I could hear the dogs again, and they were obviously getting closer. Shaking my head, I started to toss the bottle back in the corner, but stopped when it occurred to me—hunters use this stuff to hide their smell…

I immediately unscrewed the lid and shook some out onto the bottom of my shoes, then used the rest on the tops and my pants legs, my eyes watering slightly at the sharp odor. 

I replaced the lid and chunked the bottle back into the corner as I considered my options. If I went back down the ladder the dogs would smell my scent mixed with the doe urine and possibly connect the two… that meant I couldn’t exit using the ladder. Frowning, I looked out of the stand and noticed a large branch that jutted from another tree that came within eight feet of the stand. Without pausing, I stepped onto the low wall of the stand, then launched myself across the short distance, grabbing onto the branch—ignoring the pain as the bark dug into my forearms and chest—hugging it tight to slow my momentum. As I stabilized my hold, I immediately began climbing down toward the trunk of the tree; pausing momentarily when I reached it to move down a few feet, and continue climbing out on another branch that extended away from the deer stand. 

By the time I ran out of branch, I had reached a point about 40 feet from the stand. Certain this was far enough, I dropped lightly onto the ground and began my slow jog down the hill. I stole a quick glance at my watch—a full 4 minutes had passed since I first topped out the hill. normally a short period of time, but with dogs in pursuit: an eternity. 

I made the bottom of the hill, slightly disappointed that the creek was dry, comforting myself with the knowledge that I wouldn’t have been able to use it to evade the dogs after all. I immediately started the ascent to the top of the next hill. My throat was starting to scratch from the exertion. I needed to find water to drink… soon. 

Breathing hard as my legs tiring rapidly, I pushed myself to keep pace, only slowing once about halfway up to check the trail behind me. The trees obscured the ability to see across the valley, but I pressed on again until I reached the top. 

My eyes narrowed as I neared a cleared area separated from the woods by a short chain link fence. I could see an outbuilding, a large house, and beyond that a road. I neared the fence, ducking behind a tree. I scanned the yard as I worked to slow my breathing. I needed supplies; water was a priority, but after that was food and possibly clothing—something to help me blend in. I gave a short glance at the remains of my uniform—dirty and torn in places from my escape. I had been pretty well covered from head to toe with mud after crawling through the storm drain earlier—between that smell and the doe urine, I wasn’t blending in anywhere anytime soon.

Taking one last look, I moved from behind the tree and easily vaulted the fence in one fluid motion before moving up behind the small shed. I quickly moved to the edge of the house—I could feel my pulse racing faster now. Stealthily, I moved from the corner to the large window that overlooked the back yard, cautiously peeking in the corner. A small living room that opened up into a kitchen, but no movement that I could see. Nodding to myself, I moved to the back door, peering through the glass before slowly turning the handle.

It was unlocked. 

I opened it quietly, moved in, and gently closed the door behind me. In the back of my mind, I was trying to plan what I should do if someone confronted me, but hoping it didn’t happen. I didn’t want to deal with another body.

I was in a small utility room, a sink stood in one corner, a washer and dryer next to it, and the far wall was lined with shelves with a variety of canned goods. I listened intently, but hearing nothing, decided to risk it and moved to the sink. 

I turned the water on low—not wishing to make noise—and lapped greedily at the stream that came from the faucet. My parched throat stung with joy at the taste of the cool water. I forced myself to drink slowly—I knew that I couldn’t take too much on an empty stomach, and wanted to grab a few cans of food before I left.

A noise behind me shattered my deliberation—the door opened, a young woman was standing just a few feet from me with a large pile of dirty clothes in her arms, and worse, a look of horror and surprise on her face. 

I froze, ready to bolt for the door, but completely in terror. What should I do…

Her surprise turned to anger. “Matthew Allen Thomas! What did you do to your clothes?” Her voice thundered in the small room. “And what in the world is that smell? Get your hind end back outside and hose off this instant!” 

“Yes ma’am…” I offered quickly, backing out of the room into the backyard. 

I sighed as I walked across the yard toward the spigot. My side hurt… too much running. I heard my mom in the laundry room, still ranting about odor I’d left behind. I was still hungry, but supposed I’d better hose off before I got something to eat.

The dogs barking in the distance caught my attention, and I looked at the woods, a grim smile pulling at the corner of my mouth.

I would hide from my captors inside the prison. They would never find me here.