Page 1 of Dragon's Code

Prologue

ATHENA

It’s so dark. The night feels like it’s swallowing me whole. Dark branches reach out, scraping at my skin like demonic fingers, trying to hold me, trying to keep me locked in this nightmare.

Trying to take me back to my own personal hell.

I can’t even see stars above me. Not even a sliver of moonlight brightens my path.

I feel like I could die out here, and no one would even find my body.

The shirt I’m wearing was the only article of clothing I could find, barely covering the tops of my thighs. It’s better than having to escape naked, but I wish I could’ve found at least some shoes to go with it. I’m freezing, but I force myself to keep running.

They have guns. Dogs. Vehicles.

It’ll be easy for them to catch up to me.

If they do, there’s no doubt I’m a dead woman.

I run for hours. It was just after eight p.m. when I escaped, and with the sky starting to turn a dusky gray, lighting up in the east, morning must here.

My legs ache, my body trembles from the cold. My mouth is dry, and my heart racing faster than my feet can take me. My breath is coming out in shallow, foggy pants, and I know that if I stop for even a second, I won’t be able to push myself to move again.

Up ahead of me, I see the edge of the woods. Every now and again a car will go by, its headlights so bright it almost burns my eyes. I step closer and closer to the road, not sure what I’ll get when I finally step out of the shadows of the trees.

I could find myself in the safety of people who will help me get to the nearest police department, to the help I so desperately need.

Or it could be them.

I don’t know if they low jacked me with any sort of tracking device, but I have to keep moving.

It could just as easily be another predator. Someone else to grab me. Hurt me. Abuse me. Use me.

I follow along the road, still tucked back in the trees, hoping that I’m mostly out of sight even though most of the leaves are crunching under foot, making it hard to move silently. And harder still to see what sharp, painful things are hiding under the brown and orange blanket.

A green sign notates that the nearest town is ten miles down the road.

I keep moving. At least with the sun out, it’s not as cold, but it’s still autumn, still early morning. Frost still hangs in the air, on the trees.

I pass a stream and take a few furtive seconds to sip some of the icy water into my mouth. It’s enough to keep me moving.

I idly think about the stories my nanny told me, stories about the Oregon Trail, people dying from dysentery.

Hopefully I didn’t manage to escape, just to end up dying from untreated water.

My legs feel like they’re turning to jelly as I reach the outskirts of the town and lose the cover of the trees.

I wrap my arms around myself trying to protect my body as much as I can, to hide myself from any eyes that would take advantage of me. It doesn’t take long before a car pulls up next to me on the shoulder. The silver sedan has the word “Sheriff” in bright blue letters across the doors, and I feel like I could sob. If I wasn’t so dehydrated.

The man inside rolls down the window and calls out, “Hey, miss, are you all right?”

My legs are still moving, like they just have to keep going. Like I can’t stop.

It takes me a few seconds before I manage to slow, to stop my body. I turn toward him and my legs finally give out. I collapse in the coarse gravel on the side of the road. I’m so cold, so numb, I hardly feel the sharp pain of the rocks digging into my flesh.

“Oh shit,” I hear him say.

His older model car door creaks open. Boots fall heavy on the asphalt, on gravel from many winters. Then I hear the swish of his clothing, the clink of his utility belt.

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