It was the kind of evening he enjoyed. The sun was shining and he was sitting on a large smooth slab of limestone in the middle of the shallow stream. His rucksack was safely tucked into a dip in the dappled grey surface and he just sat, watching the water tumble past him. He imagined sitting there, immersed in the peace of the forest, for a million years as the crystal clear stream continued to erode the base of the rock until it was balanced on the tiniest column of stone. It already curved in at the bottom evidencing the inevitable destruction and marking the passage of time a dissolved molecule at a time.
His feet dangled so the soles of his trainers just broke the surface of the water when he stretched his toes down and he could divert and manipulate the ripples making new patterns and watching them swirl downstream toward a small waterfall. Sometimes he sat on the waterfall and imagined it scaled up to Niagara or searched out the sleek silvery fish battling against the current just to remain steady, or he'd watch bands of green weed perform and bend like the ribbons of dancing gymnasts. He chose to sit on the rock tonight. It had rained heavily the night before and the waterfall was fully submerged. The air was warm but the rainwater chasing down through the hills would still be cold and he wanted to stay dry this late in the day.
He diverted his attention from darting fry sheltering in the shadows of his rock to the parcel of sky between the trees as a dragon shaped cloud plunged his patch of sun into temporary shade. As the ray swallowing dragon flew on and he was again bathed in the bright sunlight he heard voices over the evening song of the birds sharing this part of the forest. They were shouting, swearing, and laughing. He slid down from his limestone perch and shouldered his tatty blue and green rucksack before negotiating the slippery rocks toward the bank without wetting his feet. He grabbed a partly rotten branch he'd found to break for firewood and tried to retreat into the trees.
"Oi! You!" A teenager of seventeen or eighteen wearing a bright yellow T-shirt with a marijuana leaf emblazoned on the front yelled at him. He tried to duck into the trees making out he'd not heard, but the teenager and his three friends ran forward. "Where'd you think you're going?"
"Nowhere."
"Nowhere?" Another of the teenagers repeated. He was wearing a plain black T-shirt and had a scar across his cheek. His head was shaved and he had a solid bar piercing his eyebrow. "Doesn't sound much fun."
"Want a drink?" The third teenager, this one wearing a camouflage jacket asked him and thrust a half drunk litre bottle of cheap vodka toward him with a crudely tattooed hand. He shook his head. He didn't want a drink. The teenage wannabe thugs looked to be between the age of seventeen and nineteen. Camouflage jacket was smoking a hand rolled cigarette. He took a long drag from it and blew the smoke toward him. It smelt vile and of more than making him cough. Camouflage jacket laughed as he passed the joint to Yellow tee who took a drag, holding the smoke in for a few seconds, before humming and letting it seep back into the air from his nose.
"Want a smoke?" Yellow tee asked him and he shook his head trying to back away from them.
"Where you going?" Camouflage checked and shoved him back forward. "He asked if you want a smoke."
"No, thank you," he responded in a hushed voice.
"Aww, you shy?" The fourth teenager, Green Day T-shirt, laughed. "He's shy!"
"What's in your bag?" Black tee asked as they slowly circled round him, making sure there was no way he could dart between any of them to get away. He didn't want trouble. He just wanted to be left alone.
"Just my stuff."
"What kind of stuff?" Yellow tee asked and stepped toward him. "Give it here."
"No, it's my stuff." He took a step backward but Camouflage jacket was behind him. He grabbed his rucksack and tried to rip it from his shoulder. He held onto the strap over his shoulder tightly with both hands. He couldn't lose his bag. Camouflage laughed as he ragged him backward with the bag then shoved him hard so he stumbled toward Green Day tee. Green Day tee laughed as he grabbed him and threw him down to the ground. Camouflage jacket jumped in and grabbed his rucksack from him.
"Give it back!" He leapt up and ran at Camouflage jacket. Head down and fists clenched, but Camouflage jacket tossed his rucksack to Black tee and tripped him so he went sprawling down onto the stony path. He leapt up again as Black tee tossed his rucksack to Yellow tee and then back to Camouflage jacket. Green Day tee swigged vodka from the bottle and flicked the spent butt of their shared joint at him before passing the bottle to Black tee. Yellow tee had his bag now and when he tried to get it he was punched down. He tasted blood and Yellow tee laughed as he shook his fist out as if it had hurt him. "Please just give it back?" He asked without getting up from the ground.
"You want it do you?" Camouflage jacket asked.
"Please, I need it."
"Okay," Camouflage jacket indicated for yellow tee to throw him the rucksack. But when Camouflage jacket had it, he just dangled it in front of him. When he made an attempt to grab it Camouflage kicked him in the stomach. The wind rushed out of him and he curled up in the dirt crying. Camouflage ran at Yellow tee. He dodged away from him, circling back, as he passed Yellow tee his rucksack.
Yellow tee tossed his rucksack to Black tee. Camouflage jacket kicked dirt and loose stones at him as Black tee passed the vodka back to Green Day tee. Laughing the four of them started to move off down the track. They continued to taunt him, tossing his rucksack between them, as they laughed and joked.
"Give it back!" He yelled and got back up. He ran after them, but they whooped and laughed and raced off down the path in front of him. "Please!" He yelled as he chased them. He just needed his bag back. The teenagers ran with his bag along the forest trail and toward the large entrance of a storm drain linking to the stream. They disappeared into it, but as he ducked in to follow Yellow tee was waiting for him. He grabbed him and threw him down away from the entrance to the storm drain. He skidded in the mud and the leaf litter. He sobbed as he looked at the thick mud stains caking the knees of his jeans and pushed himself up again. All he wanted was his bag.
He ran into the storm drain after them. He'd never been in the drains before, but he knew they were sometimes used by homeless people sleeping or teenagers hiding away to drink alcohol and smoke drugs. The light in the tunnel was scarce. There were grates in the top of it every ten metres of so, but most of them were overgrown or covered in decaying leaves. The sound of the teenagers laughing, swearing, and egging each other on echoed down the tunnel as he ran after them. He halted when the tunnel it forked. A shorter tunnel ran perpendicular and uphill, back toward the surface. He could see right up to the end of it which was closed by a rusted wrought iron grille with ivy growing up it and nettles through it. He could still hear them down the main tunnel but it sounded like they were getting further away.
He ran blindly in the darkened tunnel but his foot caught in a tree root growing up through a crack in the concrete floor. It grabbed at him, wrenching him, as he tripped hurtling forward. His forehead bounced off cement and the pain sparkled in the dark. His root bound foot screamed at him. He tried to get back up, scrambling forward, but he felt dizzy and his leg buckled under him dumping him down before he was close to rising.
It was almost pitch black in the tunnel and it was cold and damp. This deep the air was dank and stale and smelt of foul rot. He sunk back against the curved wall, bowing his head and feeling blood trickle from the pounding mass thickening and weighting his brow. He couldn't bear to move his leg and just left it untidily protruding into mud and leaves in the base gulley of the tunnel. He pulled the knee of his other leg into his chest and wrapped his arms around it. He couldn't hear the teenagers with his bag any more. He'd lost it. He'd lost everything.
The despair that settled in his heart did little to cure the throbbing in his head or the breath stealing agony in his leg. He wasn't even sure where that hurt, it felt like his whole leg was trying to burst free of his skin. Tears streamed unchecked down his cheeks, mixing with the blood from his head. He didn't bother to wipe at them. What was the point? He was stuck and he'd lost his bag. The hard concrete under and behind him sapped the heat from his flesh and he thought about just closing his eyes.
Something screamed. Not something. Some one. He heard screaming and terrified shouting. He heard someone running from deep within the tunnel toward him. A blood curdling scream filled the air, it echoed down the tunnel, bouncing off the walls to envelope him in terror. Camouflage jacket sprinted past him. He didn't see him and just carried on running as if his life depending on it.
He'd grown more accustomed to the dim light and he saw the shape of Black tee and Green Day tee trying to drag yellow tee between them. Black tee's voice was shaking as he begged Yellow tee to keep moving. Yellow tee screamed out as he fell down between them. Green Day swore over and over again in desperation as they tried to drag Yellow tee back up again.
He didn't move. He didn't dare move as he heard something else. It was running. It sounded incredibly fast. He saw a large black shape leap at yellow tee. Yellow tee's screech was immediately silent. The shape spun in the shadows. Green Day tee screamed as the shape smashed into him. He heard a solid thump and crunch as he was driven into the side of the drain and Green Day tee was also silent. Black tee tried to run. The black shape growled and Black tee disappeared beneath him. He didn't draw breath. He didn't move. Black shape snarled and scratched at black tee on the ground. Dragging him back down the tunnel. He thought he saw a pair of yellow eyes boring into him. They were large and round with dark pupils. It felt like they penetrated him.
He clamped his own eyes shut not willing to see any more as he waited. His lungs were burning. He couldn't hold his breath forever. He couldn't hear any more movement and he slowly let his breath out again. He was shaking violently and he couldn't still himself. He heard something heavy grating against the concrete and then the sound of something – someone - being dragged back along the rough concrete. He didn't dare look. He didn't dare move. He pressed his back into the wall, trembling, and frozen with fear and pain as he waited for whatever it was to come back and take him too. The sound of his heart hammering in his chest deafened him to all but the snarl of the murderous yellow eyed creature in the tunnel with him.