Sedrick could smell pie. He
was gliding between the few outbuildings at the edge of the larger
buildings which made up the settlement. Despite the settlement being
relatively small, the buildings stood tall and provided excellent
coverage from anyone watching at the top of the grassy embankment
that rose up to the rear of the village. He crouched behind one such
out-building with his back pressed against the smooth wooden surface.
His body faced the forest to the rear of the buildings but his eyes
pointed towards an open window to this right.
The pie was delivering it's
sweet, delicious aroma from a window sill just a quick dash away
across a short gap between the buildings. He listened. There wasn't
much activity in the settlement but he had distinguished low
muttering earlier and the clang of a door as someone went into an
outbuilding. The buildings were eerily quiet even when put into
consideration how few people could live in such a small number of
them.
However, there was the pie.
It looked delicious, smelled delicious with a hint of blueberry –
an ultimate bonus in Sedrick's opinion. Why people would leave these
things out exposed for someone to steal he would never know. But also
there was the pie. It was too tempting. There were some little
thoughts unfurling within his mind that there was no way it could
taste as good as it smelled. It could be poisoned, it could be a trap
set by some mundane lunatic designed to lure him in. He breathed in.
His anxious mind liked to get away from him, it took a rumble in his
belly and footsteps coming from round the corner behind him to push
him back into action. He skipped across the clearing, making minimal
noise, as his feet bounced across the ground. He had grabbed the pie
and ducked down between two buildings within a few seconds of hearing
the danger.
The man who came striding
round the corner created a striking impression. Firstly, he was
clearly wealthy – much more so than anyone living in these quiet
lands could hope to be. The clothing he wore was a deep green and
shone with rich velvet trimmed lighter at the edges. His belt and
boots were also a lighter shade of green and his hat was very
intriguing. It stuck up slightly from the stranger's head in a sort
of folded manner and had a feather sticking out of the top. Sedrick
couldn't help raising an eyebrow slightly, he had never seen such
clothes before but it was what the man was holding that really caught
his eye. A tube-like device with a handle at the end held firmly in a
strong grip with a finger curled into a small nook underneath the
tube where it joined with the handle. Sedrick burrowed himself into a
doorway as the interesting man passed, eyes always intent on his next
action.
“Idiot,” he thought. “I've
got your pie.” He took a bite, gorging himself on the sweet
blueberry as it danced across his tongue. As the green man stepped
away and the clear, resounding footsteps faded Sedrick finished his
snack and rose slowly. He crept from his hiding place and continued
moving, always sticking to the shadow of a building. For some reason
there was a sense of threat about the place. Sedrick liked threat, it
sent excitement and energy running through his blood and he liked the
way that felt. He liked testing his anxiety and overpowering any fear
he had. He also liked the hat. He had never seen such a thing before,
though it looked slightly similar to some he'd seen far away by the
sailors on the sea to the south of his home. He was just imagining
what he would look like with it on when he bundled over a bundle on
the floor. Pain sprouted from his left shoulder as he let out a small
groan and rolled onto his side to gaze back at the bundle's sightless
eyes staring back at him. A red line stretched across the throat
where the garrotte had cut into her and her mouth lay open, a
quizzical expression on her face as if wondering who he was to
disturb her rest in the street.
“Dead.” He thought glumly.
He got up and jumped back over the body with adrenaline running
through him as he searched for the man in green.
His pace slowed as he got
closer to the edge of the silent buildings, he saw his prey. Green
man was stalking past the houses with tube device perched against his
shoulder. He seemed beautifully distracted. Meanwhile a low,
repetitive thunk started beyond the green man in the clearing close
to the forest. Sedrick moved forward as the green man turned to go
beyond the final outbuilding before the clearing. Sedrick himself
closed on that final corner after watching his prey gradually edge
through. He took off his shoe.
Sedrick darted around the
corner and found the stranger pointing tube at a shifty-looking man
with an axe. Sedrick lunged with the shoe. There was an explosion of
noise from the tube as the woodcutter fell to the ground missing one
head. Sedrick heard the unmistakeable panicked wails of his comrades
as the green man's head recoiled back into his boot. Green man let
out a bellow of rage as he turned and Sedrick whisked the hat off his
reeling head. Anxiety flooded through him as his mind registered the
danger in front of him. Grappling onto the small advantage of
surprise he had gained he thrust out hard with the shoe before the
green man could complete his turn, against the hand clutching the
tube handle. As the tube fell to the ground Sedrick kicked with all
his might with the foot still holding a shoe into the area never
meant to endure such force. The green man let out another scream of
rage and pain as he fell to the floor clutching his groin. Sedrick
was quick to kick the tube device and sprint back through the
settlement, intent on putting as much distance as he could between
himself and the outraged, menacing sounds coming from the clearing.
He reached the embankment behind the village quickly and immediately
began climbing up the muddy slope, skidding and scrambling in his
rush to get to the top. Every two or three seconds he risked a quick
glance back to see if there were any tube shaped objects poking out
from between the wooden buildings. Once he reached the top he didn't
stop and kept running into the forest, practically falling into his
pack's hiding place among the undergrowth and nearly breaking his
wine. Stopping for a moment when he realised the pie had been left in
the village he sighed and sprinted as fast as he could into the
wonderfully dark and gloomy forest.
Blood spurted from the
useless neck, now demoted to holding up nothing, as it slumped with
the body down to the floor. Laurel ran, Borg let out a bellow and
turned for cover and Crole stood frozen on the spot. It took him
valuable seconds to process a single, desperate thought to sprint for
the cover of the forest. This was enough time to make out Sedrick
kick the killer in the balls and make off with his hat. The
tree-line was dozens of metres away a long, long distance when
considering the weapon they were fleeing. Borg and Laurel had each
made off in different directions and all Crole could think to do was
sprint anywhere that put him further from the killer device. His
heart pounded the blood through his body and his feet to the floor at
a ridiculous pace as he gradually made the cover of the trees. A
slight tingle of relief was allowed to flow through his body as he
made it. Immediately he angled his path away from the village and
deeper into the wildlife.
Borg was wheezing, bent
double over and leaning against a tree when Crole disturbed him.
Their eyes met briefly as they shared a mixed look of shock and
horror for a single second before they began careering through the
undergrowth at a terrific pace. Up ahead they could hear the
terrified wails of Laurel as he struggled past obstacles nature was
throwing up against him. It took a minute for them to reach him on
the floor, a new gash drawn across his cheek where a branch had raked
his face.
“Keep going,” Crole
grunted, when Laurel froze in shock at their appearance.
Instantaneously Laurel was crashing forward next to them. Each had
little shame in their quest to get to as far away as possible. They
stepped on each other and hurled another out of the way as they
continued their mad dash over rocky creeks, fallen trees and through
tangled, twisting undergrowth. Eventually, Crole felt his legs give
out under him as a hidden root tripped him forward head first into a
river bed, legs sticking out at an awkward angle. Laurel clashed into
his flailing ankle and brought Borg down as he clutched and grabbed
onto him to break the fall. After the tumble they paused for a
moment, feeling the adrenaline seep from their legs to be replaced by
pain and fatigue. Shakily, Crole got to his feet and helped Laurel
and Borg up. Their sprint had lasted long enough to take them a few
miles from the settlement.
“What the hell was that?!”
began Laurel in between breaths.
“What was what Laurel?”
Borg retorted. “The weapon? The killer? Or the entire disturbing
process one person intentionally ending the life of another? Either
way it was definitely brutal.”
“A firearm,” spoke Crole
softly, his breathing slowly getting to a regular pace. “I've seen
a couple before, from travellers that claimed to have gone an
unimaginable distance away, a lifetime's walk.”
“Same place that frisbees
come from or that canned food that was going round a while ago?”
“Or the inflatable beach
balls?” Borg contributed.
“Similar distance I'm sure,”
answered Crole. “Although I doubt they came from the same people,
whatever culture gave birth to the firearm must have been formidably
brutal.”
“I saw one as well once.”
Borg spoke quietly. “Never realised what it was or what it would be
like to face in action.” He spat, his stocky build bent over as he
continued wheezing.
“What the fuck was Sedrick
doing?” Crole said indignantly as the other two looked at him with
quizzical expressions.
“He stole the killer's hat!
Then assaulted the maniac. He probably got away too since we didn't
hear another shot.”
“Nutter,” Borg said
appreciatively as he started walking again. “That one always finds
a way to surprise.”
“What shall we do now?”
Laurel questioned. “He could be after us, I don't want him within
sight again!”
“We'll go west. We've still
got our cargo and the white river was just beyond that village. If we
find a crossing to the west we can get that clear border between us
and the killer and gain access to the city in the north,” Crole
decided.
“Sounds like a plan,”
reasoned Borg.
“But how far west?”
“Well, judging from the sun
we've been heading south west up to this point. If we go west from
here for another 6 hours we should be a decent distance away I
should think.”
“Unless he's going west.”
“It doesn't matter which
direction we choose to go in, we will always run the risk of him
going that way too. At least this way has a decent chance of us
getting to his north side without running into him.”
Dusk began to settle in as the
sun's light started to cascade down the horizon darkening the
woodland considerably.
“He could be watching us
right now and we wouldn't be aware of it,” Borg whispered glancing
around warily.
“More reason to get moving
in case he isn't and we can still get away,” retorted Crole as he
started westward.
