Chapter 20

It began as a whispering in the air. The day had been beautiful, and the sky was like a dome of plasma blue. The clouds had looked like airy anvils drifting under the gleaming disc of the sun.

They had put a tent up just before the Reaper's autumn moon appeared over the trees. The moon seemed to turn the leaves into a flaming patchwork of colors: scorching yellows, lava-reds, and burnished browns. It added an alien glamour to a perfect scene. They heard a greedy thrush, snail a-tapping on rock; he finished his supper before fluttering into the owl light of the forest. The mournful cry of a lonely fox echoed through the vault-still silence of the trees.

A huffing wind rose then, stirring the flaps of their tent.

A tinkling sound came to the ears as the first pearls of rain dropped onto the leaves. The sound was like the glassy clinking of a champagne flute, lilting and clear. A sheet of rain passed over them, and the sound intensified. The noise in the tent was like the phut-phut-phut that ripened nuts make when they hit the ground. It wasn't the soft, saturated, swollen drops of spring we were hearing; it was like ball bearings were hitting the canvas roof with force. They could also hear an occasional ker-plunking sound. The rainwater caused it to gather on the tent, falling to the ground in a great swash of release.

The thermometer plunged as we huddled together and shivered in the tent. For a brief moment, they thought they might be doomed adventurers, destined to get swept away in a mighty flood. They needn't have worried. The curtain of rain passed over by the time dawn arrived. An explosion of birdsong erupted from the dripping trees as if the rain had never been.

Run, said an unfamiliar voice, surrounded by trees in the woods. She ran as fast as she could; footsteps followed her as she ran with blisters underneath her feet.

She was tired and dehydrated and felt pain all over her body. As she screamed for help in the deepness of the forest. It echoed all around, making it easy for the person chasing her to catch up to her.

She grabbed a plank and leaned over, catching her breath. The darkness made it hard for her to see who was chasing her.

Someone grabbed her by the throat, holding a knife to her neck.

"I warned you trying to escape there would be consequences," he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her onto the ground, "no stop, please help me."

The person remained silent, staring, and continued dragging her. The blue fence was open as he dragged her. His long hair hung over his face; he seemed deformed. She was afraid to return to that house with four concrete walls, a dirty sink, and a pot with a steel door locking on the outside. The rusted tin room was too high and climbing up was impossible; it smelled like urine. The room was hidden underground so that no one would find her there.

She tried fighting back and pulling away, but she was too weak. Was this just an endless nightmare? Why her? Why did she attend that party? If she had only listened to her best friend, she said that parties were dumb.

Her life was a mess anyway. Who would miss her? She had no one to return to, and maybe she deserved this.

Everything was perfect that night, dancing under the stars with the person she trusted more than her family. He listened to her and advised her to have a sleepover.

Maybe she did love him because why would she be thinking of him right now while being dragged through what appeared to be an underground tunnel with cages and only skeleton remains?

She closed her eyes and saw his face; maybe he would come to rescue her, and maybe they would live together.

The pain shot up her arm like fire. She cringed. It exploded in her head with blinding whiteness. It made her dizzy. It made her reel.

The pain was like needles dipped in alcohol jammed through her skin. It felt like her arm had been replaced with ice and electricity wired straight into her spine. Every bone in her body was hurting.

He dragged her to a rusted, thick steel door. "No, please let me go. I will do anything. Please, not in there again."

Not only did that place smell, but it had no air ventilation. It was humid.

The man threw her to the ground and kicked her twice to the side as she coughed out blood. He pulled out a sharp blade and pushed it to her throat. She couldn't bring herself to make eye contact again. The last time she made eye contact, she was unable to sleep.

Instead, she covered her face; maybe this was her moment to die, she told herself.

The cold blade pushed to her neck as she accepted death, then the anticipation of the unknown. She heard the steel door shut as she slowly opened her eyes, was he gone? "No, he had to kill me!" she screamed.

"Answer me, who are you?"

The man stared at her blankly. Angela then pushed him with all her strength but stood still; it was like pushing a large rock in wet sand. He looked at her silently.

"It is not what you think it is. Say something, dammit."

The man walked over to the body, "what do you think you are doing?" Angela insisted.

The man looked at her, then sat on his knees, touching the forward of the corpse for eight seconds, "you are a crazy ass, old man."

He stood up, looked at her and grabbed the corpse by the leg, and swung it off the mountain; it was steep down. Is this man crazy? He just through a body off the mountain and never uttered a single word. What if he also throws her off the mountain? She better get away from here.

She was about to run back to the truck when he grabbed her from behind. He lifted her like a puppet. Angela grabbed her knife and stabbed him in the neck. He immediately let go of her as she fell into the mud.

Angela is not letting him define her fate, being the fighter she is. He kept his hand to his neck, holding his neck. Angela ran over to him and jumped on him, stabbing him in the shoulder as he grabbed her by the neck, choking her with one hand. The only survival tool she has is the one she is holding in her right hand. Angela blindly stabbed him in the arm and the chest. He fell to his knees.

Angela had his blood all over her; as he was bleeding out, she stood up straight and kicked him in the face, coughing out bloody falling backward.

"You piece of shit, I still don't know who you are and what you wanted." By now, he had stopped breathing.

Angela held her neck, severely bruised and burning, "what is with these people all out to kill me." never in her life would she have thought she could kill someone.

"I guess this cruel world just brings out the animal instinct in you."

Angela sat in the rain and muddy ground before standing up. Now it's a matter of disposing of this asshole who attacked her for no reason.

After dumping the body, she sat back in the truck, looking at the bloody, messed up, stained seats, she would have to get rid of all prints and this vehicle, and the only way to do that would be to let it explode.

She sat back and breathed when the thought of her mom crossed her mind. "Mom, you left me to deal with all this shit on my own."

Angela had to find that house with the blue fence. This will help her make sense of everything, who these people are, and why Nicole got kidnapped, there was more to the story than what Jack told her. She would get to the bottom of it first; she needs another car before she can get rid of the truck.

Angela looked around for a car, but there was nothing in sight. She might have to stay overnight in this truck and get rid of it first thing in the morning.

Angela looked around for a bathroom to wash the blood off her. There was a tiny toilet opposite the road, but she was not safe to go anywhere with all the attacks.

Her body was aching in pain and severely bruised.

As she dragged herself to the bathroom, she entered the dirty toilet. She didn't care about the dirty bathroom; she looked like a mess.

She walked to the bathroom corner to wipe her bruises; when bending down to wipe her legs, she noticed something on the floor.