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Chapter 11, the chase
As I walked alone I didn't have any plan other than to get into the busiest place possible. I figured that it would make life difficult for any possible attacker. But I was lost. I didn't know New York. The only other time I'd been here was when I stayed with Augustus years ago, and I just stayed in his house and down the road at the furthest.
People still turned to stare at me. I knew that I was still covered in scabs and blood. I mean, how else would I look after falling? Or rather being pushed out a twelve-storey building. I was limping slightly and wheezing; I desperately needn't to sit down. My body was still riddled with pain, despite heeling. And then just as I thought to myself that I needed to clean myself up it's pissing down. Those standing in the street rush for shelter or put their umbrella's up and I'm stood getting drenched.
I rub my face clean with the rain and continue walking along the street, and pretty soon I'm soaked through and freezing. My breath rises in the air and the streets are now eerily empty. I feel sick of anticipation; because I can sense that something is coming. The touch is telling me to expect something unpleasant. My vision sharpened with the start of adrenalin. I was being watched.
I stopped abruptly and spun on my heel to meet the eyes of a ferocious dog like brute, it was the size of a horse. Its teeth were like a crocodile's but bigger, and its body was covered in strange glassy hair. I had met one of these before. This time however it was his open playground. And he had all night to play. I could hear his snarl from a hundred yards away; it seemed to vibrate into me. Christophe had called the beast a tracker. It was used by wampyr to hunt down people like me, the half bloods.
A chill tingled down my spine and reverberated throughout my whole body. It snarled again, I whipped out my gun and shot three times, it yelped and growled, which seems to do little but anger it. And then it's on fire and starts forward and I'm running, every time my foot touches the ground it's a pound on the pavement that matches my heart beat. Adrenalin is pumping into my blood stream at a frantic rate. Everything is slow and I know that I'm zooming through the mostly empty streets. I'm reloading my gun as I race onwards. But the tracker is still chasing me; I can smell rust mixed with blood and a vile copper taste is exploding in my mouth making me want to spit.
My innards are on fire; my whole body is a power muscle pushing through time at exceptional speed. The tracker is lagging behind me but I know that I need to injure the beast badly first. We'd learnt about the tracker in Biomystic, so it looked like that lesson came in handy after all. According to the lesson I had to injure the tracker in a deadly place and water needed to enter the wound to put out that fire. The fire burnt from inside out. Once that was done it was as good as dead.
And then I saw it, a tracker up ahead in front of me, I couldn't stop running so I veered off to the left and now I had two of those retched beasts chasing me, their growls were seeping into my head and it was agonising. I needed to protect my mind like Gran had taught me, but I couldn't because all my focus was on running. Shit! I skid to a halt because a tracker is in front of me, another one. Three fucking trackers hunting me down! I can't stop! 'What the hell are you doing, Dru?' My dad's voice echoes into my head.
'Daddy I can't,' I sob but somehow I am; I'm running again with three trackers on my tail. And I'm sobbing and aching and trying to run. And I know I'm doomed because as I run forwards in the middle of the road two new trackers are blocking my way to running left or right. And another is pounding towards me, six fucking trackers! And I know I'm a goner. They had been bloody Shepherded me into a corner so I was trapped, surrounded.
I stopped running because I knew it wouldn't matter how fast and for how long I ran; these beasts would still do their job. But I wouldn't go down without a fight. I clutched my gun in my hand and aimed it at the one in front of me.
I'm spinning around in a circle shooting, and my fingers tumbling to reload. My hand shaking violently and then they're approaching me slowly now, all growling together in a chorus. My brain feels ready to implode, my eyes water, my vision swimming with the agony of their fucked up song. I'm still shooting, but as the bullet hit's their flesh only two fall to the ground. But the others are still enclosing. My gun clicks, I search my pockets frantically sobbing in desperation. I have no ammo left.
And I have to scream because my head is in such agony that's it's all I can do. My scream is blood-curdling; it rises and echoes into the night, my eyes are rolling, my body shaking in a violent fit. I vomit and my gun drops from my weakened grasp. My head is pounding, their growl is deep inside my head, and it's all over.