Page 81 of The Cursed Kingdom

The rain soaks through my hair and clothes, and probably also the items in my backpack. Everything in there can get wet, but my extra clothes will get musty. I’m more than okay with that, though. After these past few days, musty clothes aren’t a big deal.

I push through, remaining vigilant of my surroundings. The rain makes it significantly harder, blocking the sound of crunching leaves or snapping twigs I’d expect to hear if somebody were sneaking up on me.

Eventually, the ground grows muddy and slippery, forcing me to slow my pace even further. It’s just my fucking luck that it would rain the one time I truly need to remain fast, and I’m starting to think the universe is out to get me.

Maybe the gods are fucking with me.

They don’t want me getting away from Kie and Mason.

The bandages on my knees droop as the water soaks through them, which I can confidently say isn’t the most pleasant feeling in the world. My anger toward my leggings being cut is rejuvenated with each step, especially when a cool chill spreads up my exposed calves.

I wrap my arms around myself to keep warm and preserve what little body heat I have left. The rain isn’t showing any signsof stopping, just my fucking luck, and I shove my wet hair out of my face before readjusting my grip on my flashlight.

I’ve got to be in the troll lands by now.

Mason made it sound like we were close, and that was hours ago. I’ve traveled miles since then, so there’s no way I haven’t crossed over. I hope I have.

I’ve never met a troll, but I just know they’re a better option than the shifters.

The rain continues, occasionally tricking me into thinking it’s slowing, only to pick back up a few minutes later. I’m soaked, and I’m miserable.

It’s not long before I’m left with no choice but to take shelter under a tree. The ground is too muddy, the bandages on my knees are long gone, and I’m shivering so violently, I can’t hold my flashlight steady.

I find a large tree with full branches to hide under. It prevents the worst of the rain from beating down on me, and I sit at the base, my back pressed against it.

I refuse to leave my back exposed.

If somebody’s going to attack me, I’d like them to do it from the front.

I turn off and tuck my flashlight into the waistband of my leggings before pulling out both my knives. The one I stole from Kie’s backpack is heavier than mine, sturdier, so I hold that one in my dominant hand.

I’m prepared.

My knees sting as they’re exposed to the cold, wet air, but it’s not too bad. If anything, the rain is probably good for them. They’ve been soaking in sweat all day, and they could do with a good rinsing.

I pause, letting an entire body shiver course through me, before pulling out some food. I’m starving, and I force down several pieces of jerky before eating a handful of nuts. My body isbegging for water, and after a moment’s hesitation, I eat the rest of my nuts and hold out the plastic container they came in.

I can survive much longer without food than water, and I pray this works as I position the container to collect rain. The plastic is stiff enough to remain upright, and while it’s a little janky, it’s better than nothing.

Pulling my knees to my chest, I wrap my arms around my calves and stare at the container, waiting for it to fill. It’s a painfully slow process, but it seems to work. Rain collects inside, and I can’t resist the urge to drink down the first few gulps I collect.

It tastes like shitty nut water, but fuck, if it isn’t the most refreshing thing I’ve ever put in my body. It’s so good, it almost has me forgetting how cold I am.

Almost.

My fingers and toes are long numb, and maybe even a bit frostbitten. I planned to wait until the rain died down just enough that walking wasn’t such an injury risk, but it doesn’t look like that will happen anytime soon.

At least the rain will cover my tracks and dampen my scent. I’m sure that’s how Mason and Kie are tracking me, and it’s the only positive to this shitty weather.

I curl against the tree, shivering as my empty nut container fills.

I’m still pissed Mason left my water bottle behind.

My head lolls back, pressing against the wide trunk of the tree I’m propped up against. It’s so fucking cold, and I’m beginning to grow nervous that I’m at risk for hypothermia. My teeth are uncontrollably chattering, and the few parts of my body I can still feel are tingling, painful to so much as think about.

The tree I’m under isn’t doing much to keep the rain off me, but I doubt any of them will. It’s just too wet.

I bet Mason and Kie are comfortable under their little tarp cover right now. They probably broke it out and set up camp the moment it started raining, the pompous bastards. I should’ve stolen it from them when I had the chance.

---