Chapter One - Olive
On the Run
It looked like a normal afternoon with clouds in the sky, a chill in the breeze and leaves crunching under my feet. A layer of frost had settled on the blazing October forest but in the rising sun drops of cold water kept dropping right on my head. I grumbled and glared up at the flitting sun with a sigh. I hate this time of year, Canada is getting ready for a deep freeze and so should I. I need to go south, but then again how can I cross the border when it is being watched like a hawk?
Hurried footsteps, I jumped and looked around even if it is pointless as the forest is thick. I closed my eyes listening, birds chirping, squirrels chattering away but nothing sounded wrong or out of place. I thought I was far enough from cavitation that I didn't have to hide my bow.
An ice cold drop of water landed on my head making me jump, I giggled and shook my head. I'm too jumpy sometimes, I need to relax sometimes. It's probably some kids playing hide and seek, right?
A scream.
I threw myself to the ground under a bush and tensed, waiting. What in the bloody hell was that from?
Now I heard footsteps, someone was running and then I heard the sound of hoof beats pounding on the soft dirt. I pulled myself deeper under the bush and trying not to groan out loud when a thorn snagged my hair. The sweat on my hands and face collected the dirt, I had to sigh. I just took a bath at the river, that I almost froze in!
Heavy breathing to my right about ten feet away a person sprinted away, just a blur but it was what was chasing him that was the worry. A man riding a horse sped past ruffing up my hair and blowing dirt into my eyes but he never noticed the odd looking bush with strangle blonde tangles. The boy yelled and a thud was felt from where I'm lying.
The man laughed a cruel and high pitched. It made my heart hum in fear and my hands slipped on trunk of the brush. I gulped and tried to see anything from under the brush but no luck.
"You fool Scott Thomas!" the man roared in pleasure. "Did you really think you could run from a centaur?" He laughed again and clapped. "I will give you some points for trying!"
I frowned and slowly rose to my knees to peek over my brush to see a white centaur towering over the boy. No a man, he looked around my age around eighteen. Dark brown hair which could almost look like black to the fact he looked so pale.
"What do you want?" He asked. He raised his weapon, a hockey stick! What can a hockey stick do to a centaur, for crying out load!
The centaur laughed and fiddled with something on his chest, out of sight from me. Suddenly a blade flashed in a ray of sun and my heart skipped a beat. I fingered my bow and pulled an arrow from the crude and patched tube case. I readied my bow and slowly and quietly as possible I knelt on one knee ready to pop up.
The boy pleaded with the centaur and moving on to his hands and knees asking for some sort of mercy, enough to tug at my heartstrings but the centaur's mercy wasn't there, he laughed.
I pulled back my right arm brushing the feathers of the arrow against my cheek, popped up and let go. The arrow sailed beautifully straight right into the back of the centaurs head and he exploded in ashes. I stood breathing hard lowering my bow watching the boy reactions worried for him to attack me next.
He looked scared, shocked, and mad but then he groaned and collapsed to the dirt gasping for breath. "W-w-who?" He tried to sit up but he just fell back taking shallow quick breaths.
I leaped over the brush and in a couple steps I was at his side running my eyes over his body for any injuries but I placed my hands on his chest whispering, "You are going to hyperventilate. Calm down, silly twat."
The boy just kept his eyes trained on my face but he held his breath for a second and then slowly breathed out.
I smiled but I checked over my shoulder often listening to approaching friends of the centaur. The boy slowly sat up grabbing my shoulder to balance; his hand was cold enough to chill me to the bone. I shivered but I helped him to his feet, "are there others?"
He stood at lease a foot taller than me, built with broad shoulders, strong chest and arms, but a kind face. Large brown eyes matching his now extremely dirty hair that I wanted to at least get the autumns leaf out. He grimaced and slowly nodded.
My gut dropped, "how many?"
"At least two others," he managed to get out. He shook but his voice was steady and icy.
"We have to run, now, but if they find you and they will kill you," I explained. I didn't give him a chance to even take one more deep breath to question me; I grabbed his hand and pulled him though the underbrush.
