I didn't know where I was going. I was more or less following Riley, who seemed to have an idea of where he wanted to go. It wasn't easy keeping the bike upright through the trees, so when Riley led us to a paved road almost ten hours after we broke free, I was grateful. It was then that I realized what the dog had done. He had led us in a circle, crossing and recrossing the same path we had originally taken. I was grateful for that. We had spent a few hours in our old clearing before we set out on the road again, using the rising sun as our compass.
"Riley, slow down," I told him as the bike started to overheat. He whined and looked at me before slowing his pace. I carefully drove the bike into a shaded ditch before killing the engine, a puff of smoke rising from its engine.
"I'm honey, mom," Alana said tiredly. I knew she would be. The chill of spring was still in the morning air, but I knew the animals would be up and about. I looked around, taking in our surroundings.
"C'mon, let's find breakfast," I said to the little girl after I buried the bike in some leaves and moss, hiding it from the naked eye. I loaded my bow, my heart sinking when I realized my beloved crossbow, a weapon I had so many dreams of mastering, was no somewhere else with a monster of a man. I shook the feelings aside as I looked at the pack of dogs in front of me.
Riley stood stoically, his long fur bloody and matted. His ears were perked as he awaited my command. Scout stood to his right, his small body riddled with scars, new and old alike. His red coat was patchy at best, large chunks missing in various places. I tried to imagine what he might have looked like if he wasn't wild, but to me, he would always me the messy, tiny Scout. Blade, on the other hand, had his head high, his chest puffed, his long, jet black fur fluffed in a way that almost made him look like a lion. He had a deep scar across his face, no doubt from a biter. He showed no fear for this world. I couldn't help but wonder if he was born into it. Raised wild. He seemed to be. He knew his way around the forest, regardless of where we went. Unlike Scout who often took a few extra moments to catch up, Blade was able to keep pace with the bike as if it were simply another dog. Riley took both those dogs in as if they were kin, and for me, it was a blessing his disguise. All three dogs knew how to hunt, both prey and biters alike. With Riley's studded vest and Blade's ability to take down biters with my double bladed half sword in his mouth, and Scout's great sense of obedience and protective streak, the pack was the best thing in my life.
Next to that little girl. Alana. She had taken to me slowly, but now, she looked at me as a mother. She reminded me so much of my son, it wasn't funny. The way her little arms wrapped around my neck before I put her to bed. The way her eyes twinkled in the early morning sun. The way she'd beg me to sing to her, right before she fell asleep. All those little things made me grateful for saving her, even if it meant at the expense of my dignity and confidence.
I was snapped out of my thoughts by Riley's low growl. He wagged his tail before pouncing on something in the nearby bushes. I was about to draw my knife when I saw him come out, a rabbit hanging from his jaws. I smiled at my faithful friend, rubbing my hand over his head.
"Good dog," I complimented as I tied the rabbit to my belt. Alana looked at it hungrily.
"Let's see if they can find anything else," I told her as I picked her up in my arms, not daring to allow the young child to tread the woods herself. She held tight as I followed the dogs farther into the woods. Scout dashed off, no doubt to scout the area, hence his name. Riley stayed close to me, as he always had. Blade, on the other hand, had no problem running off, his nose buried in the dirt. I had faith that the young dog would return with a prize of some sort.
As I followed Riley through the trees, the hunter in me began to panic. Something wasn't right. I could tell by the tracks in the dirt that this path had been traveled before, recently too. By the snare that was spun, yet vacant in the bushes, I knew someone had been hunting recently, but not too recently. By the way Riley's ears twitched, I knew he was following something, but what I couldn't even begin to imagine.
It was Blade who alerted me first. His loud barks weren't too far off, only a few hundred feet to my right. Riley instantly took off running, his tail high as he barked in response to Blade. Scout came running out of the bushes, nearly tripping me in his haste to catch his friends. I hurried after them, one hand gripping at Alana, the other, tearing my bow from my back. I shifted the little girl so she was hanging on me back, her little arms tightly gripping my neck, her bottom resting securely on the backpack I was carrying. I loaded my bow, ready to release an arrow in a moment's notice.
To my surprise, the dogs had led me to a small clearing. In the distance, just across the small creek, I saw something I hadn't been prepared for. Tall, chain link fences surrounded the area, biters surrounding it, though fanned out enough that they posed little threat. Past the fence, sat a prison. I smiled to myself as I took in the sight before me. The prison looked sound. The grounds were not filled with biters. I could tell just by the pace the people inside walked at. I knelt down, letting Alana off my back as I studied the prison. There were survivors just past that fence.
"Mommy, what's wrong?" Alana asked softly, her blue eyes wide with fear.
"Nothing, love," I said softly, taking her hand in mine. "The doggies done went and found us somewhere to hold up for a little while." I choose my words carefully. There was no telling what these people were like. As far as I was concerned, they could be no better than the Governor and his people. But they had something I desperately needed. They had walls. All I would need was a day. A day to make a plan, to map out a route and take to the road. A day to rest and recover and relax long enough to formulate a long term plan for my little girl and me. Riley pawed at the ground, clearly eager to make a mad dash for the prison. I grabbed hold of his collar, silently signaling for him to stay put. To my amazement, Blade let out a low growl before turning tail, heading back in the direction we had just come. I was almost positive it was his way of saying "C'mon, let's not waste all day now."
On our way back to the bike, the dogs managed to catch another rabbit and a small fox. Before anything else, I set a small, barely visible fire, letting the meat cook over the hot embers. I brushed out Alana's long, messy hair before braiding it carefully. I then did the same with mine. I twisted the braids so that they were tight against my skull, rather than allow them to hang freely. I learned the hard way how much of a hindrance hair could prove to be.
Once everyone was fed, I led the way back to the bike, carefully uncovering it from the shrubs. I clipped one of the backpacks to each dog, this way the bike wasn't as difficult to maneuver through the biters. I tied the old leash around Alana, so she was securely tied to my body before kicking the bike to life. The load roar of the motor sent chills up my spine.
I let out a short, simple grunt and Riley took off, his claws digging into the damp spring ground. Blade and Scout followed after him as I drove on, following the dogs through the twisting, dirt path until the clearing to the prison came into view.
What I hadn't taken into account, was getting to the fence. The biters turned tail the moment they heard the bike. Even with the dogs breaking off in different directions, barking as loudly as they could, many were still locked into getting to the load, annoying bike.
"Hang on, Lana," I said softly as I kicked the bike up a notch. I knew we were going too fast. I knew it was too dangerous. I didn't care. Maybe that was how I wanted to die. Or maybe, just maybe, I had forgotten how dangerous the world was in the few months I'd spent at Woodbury, being beaten and abused by humans. Maybe that made the biters a little less scary.