Hunted
Caleb Grauer hobbled through the forest, his breathing growing more intense with every step-in tandem with the throbbing pain above his left knee. His nostrils were rife with the smell of burnt Dust; not even the countryside smells of pesticide and cowshit could drown it out.
Finally, as he ran along the dirt path, his little home came into view; a small cottage ringed by a fence and whirring turrets; in the ploughed years of the foreyard the first saplings had begun to sprout. Behind ran a river along which a small peach orchard grew. Gasping for breath he slammed against the electronic gate, his hands scrabbling against the keypad. As soon as the electronic lock beeped, he seized the links of the gate and rolled it aside and continued running.
"Where are you?"
He tore through the cottage, his heart rate accelerating. The green clock above the mantle went tick-tock-tick-tock-
Caleb ran through the kitchen-and promptly slipped on the freshly mopped floor. Out of control, he banged against the back door, intensifying the pain in his left knee.
"Gah…" Pushing through he entered the orchard, where he finally found who he was looking for. Lydia stood by one of the peach trees, radiant as ever, a basket of fruit hanging from a pale arm. Beside her stood his young son, Herman Grauer, sampling one of the peaches. Any other day he'd have given the boy a good-natured light smack for sampling the merchandise, but today-
"I'm so sorry." He said as he reached behind him and unstrapped his weapon sheath.
"Caleb? Caleb, dear, what's wrong?" Lydia slowly walked up to him, her concern growing. Herman followed, his eyes wide.
"I need you to take the money and clothes and go to Vale. Go meet with my friends, Aciero- "
"Why, what's wrong? What's happening?" Lydia asked, shocked at the tears welling up in Caleb's face.
"No time to explain, just go! Take the backroads to Vale- "
"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on!" Lydia yelled, flustered. Caleb shrank back and crumpled, looking small and defeated next to the size of the sheath.
"I'm sorry. I messed up. And you need to go, now, or else you'll die." He said, his voice cracking. "Please, I can't lose you."
Lydia sobbed, but walked into the house nonetheless to do as her husband said.
Herman whimpered slightly, trying to hold close to his mother but Caleb looked at his mirror image in the eye-transfixing him.
"C'mere, boy. C'mere." He motioned at his son, who approached with trepidation. With great effort he lifted his sheath and hefted it at the boy, who stumbled a little when he caught it. "Nihil's yours, son. You remember how I taught you to switch it up?"
The boy wordlessly nodded as he strapped the sheath onto his back. Caleb smiled as he looked at the tall, broad-shouldered lad with a messy mop of silvery-grey hair complimenting his cerulean blue eyes and strong jawline. The high cheekbones, and the broad nose were definitely his mother's though. The back door creaked open once more, and Lydia came and knelt by Caleb.
"Why not the main road?"
"There are things worse than Grimm on the main roads, my love." He whispered. "Go now, before it's-"
A loud crash came from the foreyard fence-the turrets beeped and briefly opened fire before a loud thunderclap silenced them. Caleb immediately leapt to his feet and pushed Lydia and Herman away.
"GO NOW! THROUGH THE BACK ENTRANCE, OR DIE!" He screamed, sending them running in fear. He watched them flee, his heart growing colder with every step they took away from him. At his back, he could hear people shouting. He cracked his knuckles and walked back to the foreyard through his house. The green clock went on ticking as he passed by.
"When did it go wrong?"
Outside, a truck with the SDC-I markings was parked on top of his field of saplings, and four Huntsmen stood with their weapons at the ready. All of them were clad in white uniforms. Behind them, the front gate was in shambles, and his turrets were burning wrecks.
"By what law does the Schnee Dust Company have the right to invade my private property?
"You know damn well why we're here, mutt. Give us what you stole, and we'll make it quick for you and not go after that bitch and pup of yours." The leader of the group, a tall brown-beared man with a shaved head and wraparound sunglasses, threatened. He raised his weapon; a twelve-gauge pump action shotgun with a tomahawk in place of its stock. The rest followed suit with their own weapons.
Caleb snarled, clenching and unclenching his fists. He couldn't imagine that shouldering that weapon was comfortable, so he had a bit of an edge.
"What's it gonna be, mutt? You got no way out."
"Never knew your corporation had the legal power to threaten a family-"
"Yeah, but we do have the power to deal with any threats to the interests of the company in any way necessary. That includes you and those two collaborators you sent scurrying off."
"Is that how it is?" Caleb snarled. "How do you plan to intercept them when you have to go through me?"
The ensuing detonations knocked the ticking green clock off its nail on the wall, and it shattered against the floor, to tick no more. Bullets and blood watered the crushed saplings, over which the ants marched forth to feast.