Page 5 of Bound to the Guard

Unbidden memories flash through my mind. Needles. Restraints. Searing pain and agonized screams echoing off sterile white walls.

I shake my head to banish the images. That life is different from the one I live now.

A twig cracks behind me, and I whirl, my heart leaping into my throat. Breath held, I scan the trees, straining to hear over the rush of blood in my ears.

Nothing. Only the rustle of leaves in the wind.

Still, I quicken my pace, ignoring the burn of overworked muscles. Need to find somewhere to hide. Need to rest for a moment. But where is safe anymore?

I pray that I’ve put enough distance between myself and my captors. That this taste of freedom, however scary, doesn’t vanish as quickly as it was gained.

One foot in front of the other. Keep running and don’t stop.

When I stumble into a small clearing, I drop to my knees, gasping for air. My lungs burn, and my legs tremble, threatening to give out. I can’t keep running like this. I need to remove the tracker before they find me.

With shaking hands, I search the ground for anything sharp. Twigs snap under my touch, leaves crumbling.

Come on, come on. There must be something.

A jagged edge cuts my finger, and I grasp it, lifting the rock. It’s not much, but it will have to do. This thing needs to come out of me.

Gritting my teeth, I roll up my tattered sleeve, pressing on my flesh until I find the slight bump where they embedded their device.

My hand trembles as I lift the rock. This will hurt like hell. But what choice do I have? I can’t go back. Iwon’t.

Steeling myself, I press the sharpest point to my skin and dig.

A strangled cry escapes as the rock bites into my flesh, searing pain shooting up my arm. Blood wells up, slicking my fingers, but I can’t stop. If I do, I won’t be brave enough to try again.

Tears stream down my face, mingling with the sweat and grime. The metallic scent of blood fills my nostrils, churning my stomach.

A little deeper. Almost there.

The rock hits something hard, and I drop it to the forest floor. My fingers shake as I dig into my flesh, searching until I find the tiny device. With a sickening squelch, I pull the tracker free and drop it to the ground.

Chest heaving, I stare at it, hardly daring to believe that I did it. I’m one step closer to freedom.

The elation is short-lived as the throbbing in my arm intensifies, demanding attention. Fumbling with the hem of my shirt, I rip off an already loose strip of fabric and tie it as best I can around the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

It’s not pretty, but it will have to suffice. I can’t afford to linger here. They’ll be searching for me, and I need to find shelter before nightfall.

Staggering to my feet, I shove the bloody rock into my pocket.

I stumble forward once more, blood dripping down my hand to the earth beneath my feet. Each step takes me farther from the compound and closer to freedom.

Darkness falls while I’m still in the woods, and it becomes harder to see. Branches claw at my face and arms, leaving stinging scratches in their wake. The adrenaline coursing through my system heightens my senses, keeping exhaustion at bay.

Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig sends a jolt of fear through me. They could be right behind me, their hounds straining at the leash, ready to drag me back to that hellhole. The thought spurs me on, my aching muscles screaming in protest as I push myself harder, faster.

Gotta keep moving. Don’t stop. Don’t look back.

Easier said than done. The night is alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, their calls echoing through the trees. An owl hoots somewhere overhead, its eerie cry sending shivers down my spine. I can’t shake the fear that I’m being watched and hunted.

I stumble over a root, arms windmilling to catch my balance. My heart leaps as I catch myself on a tree trunk, the rough bark biting into my palms.

For a moment, I freeze, straining my ears for any sign of pursuit.

Nothing but the wind whispering through the leaves and the distant chirp of crickets. I allow myself a shaky breath, trying to calm my racing pulse.

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