Page 28 of Fresh Flesh

Maisie

When I’d arrivedat the Overseer’s farm, the Grengorans told us if we tried to run they’d shoot us. The others feared that more than they feared facing the slaughterhouse or the arena.

So I escaped alone.

I was careful about it. Fortunately, I got grabbed and auctioned off so quickly I still had my shoes. Otherwise, I’m not sure I could have made it very far at all.

The chain link fence surrounding the human corral at the Overseer’s farm is buttressed with black canvas, perhaps to cut down on the biting wind. It’s cold up here, a lot colder than it was down south.

I tore some of the canvas free, a wide swatch which I turned into a poncho for myself. I used a sharp stone which I had sat on earlier, to cut out a hole for my head.

Fortunately, they’d removed the stupid tag from my neck when I arrived at the farm, or I’d have had to figure out how to get that off, too. I cut my finger on the stone trying to slice through the tough canvas, but I finally got the job done.

The poncho served two purposes. One, it would protect me, hopefully, from the cold. Two, its black color would blend in with the moonless night I chose for my escape.

I shimmied under the fence—it wasn’t that hard, really—and then ran for the woods in the distance. Over the tops of the trees loomed the jagged, snow-capped mountains. I knew that the aliens had not settled there as of yet. It was too rugged, which I suppose is why humans don’t make permanent dwelling in such places, either.

I kept expecting to feel a bullet rip through my body the whole, long run to the woods. Fortunately, the guards weren’t all that alert. Escapes were exceedingly rare.

The cold wind blows, flipping open my crude poncho and making me shiver, drawing me back into the present. The escape is over. Now I just have to stay free and survive.

I look back the way I have come, worried about footprints in the snow. Mercifully, it started snowing rather heavily an hour ago, and it looks like my footprints have been erased. I heave a sigh of relief and move on, drawing the poncho around my body more tightly.

I hate this. I hate being out in the elements, in the cold. I got spoiled living with my three Grens. Mlarx, Joras, and Lurg certainly spoiled me. I never wanted for food, water, or comfort while I was with them.

Now I’m alone. It didn’t bother me much the first time I escaped. After all, it’s not like most humans are that good of company. They’re broken and sad and have no gumption left at all.

I had gotten used to the companionship that the three Grens provided for me. It’s a stark contrast, being out here on my own.

Or maybe not enough on my own after all. A sharp wolf howl pierces the night. I shiver, and hope that the snow will hide my scent from them. I avoided being eaten by two legged predators. It would be a real shame to find myself eaten by four legged predators instead.

The land begins a gradual rise. I expend more effort struggling up the steeper grades, and the mountains seem just as far away from me as they did when I started away from the farm. I’m beginning to think I’m not going to get there at all.

Then I remind myself that I am already in the mountains, or the foothills at least. I’m already safer, if not totally safe. That eases my mind a little bit, but the snow keeps falling, and the higher I climb the colder the air gets.

Eventually it becomes obvious that if I don't find shelter, I’m not going to survive the night.

Shelter isn’t so easy to come by in the woods. I keep hoping to find a hollowed out tree trunk, or a tight copse of vegetation to block the snow and the wind. The trees are spaced far apart here, though.

The wolf howl comes again, from what seems to be closer. I shiver with more than cold. I have to find shelter, and soon.

Then I see it—a yawning mouth of blackness against the white snow. A cave. At least the wind won’t cut through me like a knife in there.

I enter the cave, ducking my head, and then crawl back as deep as I can get. It’s not a very big cave, but it’s much warmer than the outside.

I huddle up in the warmest spot, far away from the entrance, and try to keep my teeth from chattering.

I miss my three Grens. I wonder if I will ever see any of them ever again…

Or if I’ve lost them forever.

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