Chapter 4

I forced the water to part as I crashed through it. It grabbed me in anger and pulled me under, trapping me in its hydraulic currents. I was stuck in a washing machine, spinning round and round, the whitewater beating me down into the bottom of the river. My torn clothes did little to shield me from the river rocks that nipped at me. I fought back the panic as my lungs demanded air, but instead began to fill with water. I was choking as the river pushed and pulled. It felt like a boxing match and I begged for the bell to end it. My hands ran across the river floor and I sought refuge below the turbulence. I let the water pull me further downstream until I could finally escape and swim to the surface.

My arms flailed when I broke through, and I coughed and spat out the vulgar water that had violated me. But the river was not done with me yet. I flipped onto my back so that my legs floated downstream to protect myself from boulders. I was still fighting to breathe when my foot brushed passed a tree limb submerged in the river. The current quickly pushed my body forward, pinning my chest beneath the limb. Waves pummeled my face, attacking me with an overwhelming furry. I could only use one arm to push against the limb, the other limply hung as I tried to wedge myself free. The current pushed back, a brutal tug of war for my life.

I was a Gundam pilot, I would not drown dammit!

I took a deep breath and submerged, working with the current instead of fighting it. I pushed up on the limb, allowing the current to tug me down, until finally I was spinning free from the branch. The river rushed me forward, bobbing me up and down like a buoy. I was helpless as it thrashed me about and I struggled to keep my head above it. I had nothing left in me to fight. It would be so easy to give up, let it take me. It swirled around me in agreement, splashing into my face. I coughed and more water rushed to fill my open mouth. The coughs rattled my rib cage and I gasped at the severe pain. Definitely a broken rib. Another current twisted me around and pulled me under. Too tired. I closed my eyes, my head bowing to the waves in surrender.

But the river wanted to play more. My feet slammed into a boulder and my head shot up before my body was pressed against it. I tried to push my way around, and while kicking, my feet grazed the river's floor. A ray of joy broke through my heavy clouds. It was shallow enough to stand. I stood with my back pressed against the boulder, stopping the rushing water from taking me. The current swirled around my feet in a panic to keep me, like a child losing it's favorite toy. With heavy slow steps I stumbled to the edge of the river where a wall of mud stood between me and safety. I whimpered. I would have to attempt the climb with one arm. I searched for roots and limbs to help hoist myself up and was relieved to find a few. Chunks of earth fell down on me as I tugged my way up, like a mad man clawing out of his grave. My feet slipped and I fell back a few times before my hand finally gripped the edge, and with all my strength I screamed as I pulled myself up and over, the river howling in anger at my escape.

I curled into a ball as my heart raced and I fought to catch my breath. It was still raining and I could feel myself slowly sinking into the mud with each passing moment. I couldn't move, hell I couldn't even breathe. Shivering, I pulled my legs closer to my chest and closed my eyes. I stayed there, burying my face into my shoulder. Minutes passed and my breathing finally slowed and was becoming shallow as I began to slip into unconsciousness.

I have to get out of the trunk. Why am I wet? My mind drifted from the trunk to my present state, leaving me confused. Where was I? It was too cold. I felt numb, except for my arm. Why did it hurt so much? I slowly raised my hand to investigate the arm shielding my face from the rain. A jolt of pain had me gasping as my hand grabbed the forgotten bullet wound. Shit. The pain ripped the blanket of haze off and I sat up, huddling in the puddle that had formed around me. The battle against hypothermia was beginning. I didn't want to move. I just wanted to sleep. I sighed, knowing what I had to do. I lifted my hand to the wound, pausing for a moment before I held my breath and pressed down. A strangled scream ripped through me. It felt like a sledgehammer pounding red hot iron into my bone.

I moaned and forced myself to stand. I would die if I didn't keep moving. My shoulder was still dislocated and my left arm hung limply. The injury would only get worse if I didn't fix it now. With the bullet wound in the same arm, it would be more difficult to set. My head lowered as I felt the world working against me. I was a pinata dancing on a string, entertaining everyone while taking one hit after another.

With a grimace I raised both arms and pointed them out from my side. Slowly I rotated them upwards and gasped. With my eyes squeezed shut and my face in a scowl, I continued to slowly move my arms up. It felt like a ravenous animal was latched onto my arm, trying to rip it from my body. I shouted in determination and finally raised it above my head. I felt my shoulder slip into place and I hissed out the air I was holding. I slowly lowered my arms to my side and felt immediate relief from the pain, but it still ached. The joint was definitely swollen.

Now it was time to look at the bullet wound. I carefully pulled back my muddy shirtsleeve. The bleeding was minimal, but still enough to worry me. I tried to focus on my surroundings and my eyes made out the shape of a fallen tree in the dark night. I shuffled over to it and plopped down on it. My one hand blindly searched the damp decaying wood. When I felt soft moss, I gently pulled it off and peeled back my shirt. I placed the moss on the wound, trembling at the touch, and then gently pressed my shirt back over it. Satisfied the bleeding would stop, I slowly rose from the log. My legs protested and my knees wobbled, but I managed to stand and forced myself to walk. I had to keep moving. I felt like a zombie stumbling through the woods, my left arm limply hanging and my feet dragging tiredly through the mud. A moan even escaped every few steps.

My teeth chattered and I shivered uncontrollably while I walked along the edge of the river. A fire would be heaven. But the rain would make that a difficult task, and I didn't know how far the river had taken me. I was sure the two men wouldn't have given up on me yet. I had to decide if I should seek shelter in the woods, or try to find civilization. Shelter in the woods meant it would be less likely they would find me. But I also had to dress my wounds. I needed a lot more than the woods could provide. Civilization meant my chances of getting captured increased. My heavy feet tripped over a rock and I crashed down onto the earth. I cried out and fought back the tears as my arm hit the ground. Rolling to my side I cradled it and clenched my jaw while waiting for the wave of pain to settle. I couldn't stay out here. I needed help. Following the river downstream was my best option. I pulled myself up and didn't bother to wipe off the fresh layer of mud covering me from the neck down. If I survived this, I was going to throw myself one hell of a pity party.

My feet finally began to shuffle on a narrow path along the river. It was the first sign of civilization. My salvation was near and as my feet greeted the path I should have heard a choir rejoicing. Instead my feet continued to mechanically march onward and I heard the river beckoning me. It constantly cursed me with its rushing waters, angry that I escaped it. I didn't know how long I had been walking. I think I even dozed off at some point.

After a long performance, the rain retreated behind the clouds, the thunder applauding it. My soaked and aching body was grateful, but I knew it was only the intermission. The rain's dark skies made it difficult to guess what time it was, but I figured the sun still had a few more hours of sleep. My head swayed with each heavy step and my ponytail lightly bounced. Why had I agreed to this recon mission? When I finished Professor G was going to get an ear full. Recon? My feet paused as my mind fought to find the right information. I waited as it shuffled through my memory like a deck of cards. I wasn't on a reconnaissance. Certain cards were removed from my memory deck and laid out for me. I had escaped from that damn trunk. I continued my slow walk, frightened by my wavering mental stability. I needed to do something.

"A shower." I smiled as I said it and imagined the hot strong water pelting me and relaxing my muscles. "A sandwich. Ham." My stomach was empty. I wasn't even sure when I had last ate. I was passed being hungry and my stomach accepted its hollowness. "A coke." I continued to list the things I wanted, staying awake. "A bed." I sighed and could feel the soft comforter wrapping around me. It was odd, from childhood until now, I was still craving the same basic things. I looked down at my tattered filthy clothes and worn shoes and laughed cynically. Some things just didn't change.

The path veered away from the river. Finally. Something had to be nearby. My ears rejoiced as I said goodbye to the howling river and welcomed the silence of the wooded path. I began to softly hum, the tune matching the swaying of my body. I stopped when a new sound whispered in my ears. It sounded like the river, but it wasn't. I had left that sound behind. I focused, mentally willing my ears to hear more. There it was again. A low rumble. I picked up my pace and would have begun to run if I were able. It was the sound of an engine. A large one, maybe a truck?

Half a painful mile later, the army of trees halted and held their defense line against a small brick building. The building was surrounded by pavement with three large transporting trucks and three older vehicles parked. The sounds of motors humming continued in the distance. A highway must be nearby. This must be a truck stop. I stood sheltered behind the trees, observing the building and scanning the surrounding area. A gravel road met the parking lot and continued north, breaking a path between the trees. The rest stop was nearly hidden, like a secret haven for the weary driver. I had dealt with a few drivers in the past to help transport Deathsythe. Overall I liked the few I had met. There were the silent ones who drove to be alone. But there were also the lonely ones, who drove because they were looking for something. I leaned against a tree, not able to stand. There was no movement around the perimeter, and the car I had been held in was not there.

I sighed. I didn't have much of a choice. My battered body was shutting down and I would soon crawl to a halt like a car without gas. Even my mind was sputtering and on the verge of breaking down. I looked at my filthy clothes and felt my hair loosely hanging above my shoulders. There was nothing that could be done about my appearance. My eyes cast down at a branch that laid broken below my supporting tree. I slowly bent down, my ribs begging me to stop, and lifted the branch up. Leaning on the tree, I raised my knee and snapped the branch over it. It cracked and I now held two small sticks in my hands. I tested the fresh ends with my fingertip. They had a nice edge that would inflict damage if enough pressure was applied. I carefully slid one of the dagger sized sticks underneath my waistband, my belt holding it in place. The other I concealed in my hand as best I could. Feeling a little safer, I pressed off the strong tree. I staggered a moment and nearly fell before my good arm implored the tree to brace me once again. I waited for the spinning to stop before pressing away from the tree a second time, leaving the shelter of the woods. I could feel the trees saluting me as I marched on.

As I reached the heavy wooden door the rain returned for act two and blasted me as if to say don't go. It argued with rumbling thunder as my hand grabbed the doorknob. My fingers tightened their grasp on what now felt like a desperately lacking weapon. I inhaled as deep as my broken rib allowed and pulled the door open.