ran.
Down a ditch, up the other side and into the woods. Her feet slipped through the wet leaf litter as she struggled to maintain her balance with bound hands. She had managed to free her feet after hours of struggling, but the ropes on her hands were too well tied.
Free of a gag for the first time in days, she took large breaths. The cold stung at her lungs, but the pain didn’t stop her from gasping every time she stumbled.
She had no idea where she was. They weren’t in Texas any more. The trees were too big and the land in front of her rolled too much for it to be what used to be Texas. And, though it was unfamiliar, she was relieved that they were no longer in the desert.
She had worked out her escape days ago. But, running away into the barren wasteland was no escape at all. What good would escape be if she died of thirst?
Here there would be streams and lakes at the very least. Perhaps even a settlement and someone to lean on for help.
She pushed through a growth of brush and tumbled into another ditch. She swallowed the startled scream that rose within her. Her reflexes demanded that she put her arms out to catch herself, but she fought them back knowing that such an action would result in broken wrists or fingers. Instead she rolled onto her shoulder as she hit the ground and slid to a stop.
Then she got up and kept running.
Her legs cramped. Her ribs ached as she fought for breath. She had been folded over in the same position since that bastard had grabbed her in the mountains. Just straightening her legs had been painful enough. Running hurt even more. Her captor had let her out only for necessity and never for more than two minutes at a time. She couldn’t wait to kill the man, but, before she did, she planned on yelling at him while he tried to pee. Just to see how he liked it.
And she would make him where a hood like he did. And she would put him on a leash like he did. And she would make him stand in an anthill while he went. He had never made her do that, but fuck him, she thought. He deserved to piss blindfolded in an anthill if anyone ever had. A fire anthill.
She made the top of the hill and looked around while she took several deep breaths. They hurt, but it felt good to have the gag out of her mouth. The moment she pulled it free, she had felt almost human again. She could close her mouth. She could swallow comfortably. And, she wasn’t drooling on herself anymore, which was nice.
The view from the hill told her nothing, but any direction was better than back, so she took off through the trees again. Branches whipped at her face and the roots did their best to trip up her feet. But trees meant cover. Roots meant water. And water meant food was at least a possibility. It all added up to a chance to survive. If she could just get away.
A root caught her toe and sent her to the ground again. She landed hard on her hand and drove the wind from her chest. Convinced her wrist was broken, she rolled over and gave into a whimper.
Her breath slowed after nearly a minute and she raised her hands in front of closed eyes expecting to see any number of fingers pointing at any number of angles. She grit her teeth and looked at her hands. Somehow they had survived the fall. She decided to risk moving slower. It would be safer and her lead had to be considerable at this point. There had been shooting back at the warehouse after her escape, but the sound had been all but swallowed by distance and the trees.
She thought for a moment that Mr. Christopher was dead and it was a thought that made her happy. It was possible that whoever he was meeting had shot first. But she also knew it was unlikely. He was too cautious. He was too cautious, too lucky, and too slippery of a slimy bastard to be caught off guard by anyone stupid enough to work for him.
Erica stood and started walking towards what felt like south. She could get her exact bearings later. For now she needed to generate more space between her and