Run for your Life

Small streams of lights flicker through the gaps of the run-down hut. Janet is shaking in the corner, unsure of what she should do. Running from the cops will get me shot, but being found will mean life behind bars. Lights brighten the dark lean-to on every side. I'll never see my baby again either way I choose. She cries, picturing her son in her mind. Janet knows her in-laws would refuse to take him to see her on visiting day. It'd be better for him if he didn't see me behind bars that he'd forget I'm even alive. Janet tries convincing herself, sobbing into the darkness.

Janet suddenly recalls Timmy finding a secret passage in the far back room. She'd forbid him to go down it because it was so dark and its decaying stairs steep. She then recalls the eerie feeling she got staring into its abyss. It was my imagination working overtime, she thinks, trying to push the feeling aside.

Heavy footsteps tromp across the front porch while a few officers check the back. Anything is better than this. Springing to her feet, Janet runs through the hut, grabbing the flashlight on her way through. She and Timmy brought a few previsions things from the house to make the place seem less disspiriting.

Sprinting to the closet, Janet pushes against the paneled wall. The barrier swings open. Footsteps stomp through the cabin door as she slides through. Closing the hidden passage behind her, she shines her light around.

The tunnel is long and narrow, with concrete ceilings, floors, and walls. Small moisture droplets trickle down the walls, leaving water trenches on either side.

The earthy smell lingering in the air reminds Janet of the hot summer days she and Timmy spent at the creek. I look forward to having those days again, she thinks, flashing her light down the passage as far as it'll go. Janet then recalls a few of the creatures she and Timmy encountered. The times they ran screaming from the woods. Even the smallest creatures can be vicious when they have babies to protect. Maybe I'll wait it out up here, she thinks, shivering at the thought of what might lurk in the great unknown.

Heavy footsteps tromp through the cabin, stopping right outside the secret door. A horrid realization comes to mind. If Timmy can find the door, I'm sure they can too. Janet hears two male voices behind her. She then sees the door vibrate like someone is pushing against the wall. They know there is a secret passage back here: Yelping, Janet races along the damp, dark path.

The only time she and her older sister, Julie, went caving comes to mind. Janet didn't want to go, but her sister said it was a test to see if Janet was brave enough to hang out with her and her friends. A way to prove she wasn't a coward, a baby. They'd only made it a few feet when Julie's flashlight woke a flock of bats. The two girls ran home screaming, promising never to visit or even speak about the cave again.

Janet had nightmares for weeks, dreaming that the bats were waiting outside her door. I'm sure there aren't any bats in here, Janet assures herself, forcing herself on.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, Janet glances around. There has to be a way out, but where?

Janet is inspecting the walls when she sees a small button near the top. Janet reached for it, but being only five foot two, she was a good foot shy of the knob. Studying the wall, Janet discovers it would be impossible to climb. There has to be a way to do this. There just has to be, she thinks, looking around, hoping to devise a plan. She glances at the flashlight in her hand. The six-inch handle might be enough. Laying flat against the wall, she stretches her arm up as far as she can but still lacks a tiny bit. Raising on tip-toes, she tries again. I'm almost there, she thinks, extending her body as high as it will go.

A bright light shines from the passage behind her. They found the door.

Janet's heart beats furiously in her chest. Raising as high as she can, she smacks the light against the wall. The tool falls to the right. Janet tries again. Overcompensating, the device falls to the left.

She turns to find the beam closer than before. I've gone too far to give up now. Janet grips the handle tighter. Aiming for the center, she tries again. The flashlight hits the small, round button. There's a soft hum as the door slides across.

Glancing back one last time, Janet dives through the gap in the wall. She turns to find the door sliding back. It must have motion sensors, she thinks. Jumping to her feet, she glances around. The night air has grown crisp, somewhat chilly, especially for the thin sundress she has on. Janet wraps her arms around herself and tries to familiarize herself with her surroundings. She soon realizes she's just a short distance from her house. I just looped my way around. Janet thinks more frustrated than ever.

Janet hears barking in the distance. I can't outrun the dogs. She then recalls a TV show about a suspect running from K9s. I either try or die.

Janet darts to her left, zigzagging around trees, hoping to confuse the dogs, buying herself more time. She originally planned to run toward the highway, but at the last minute, she decided to go to the cabin instead. Thinking she had a better chance of hiding in the camouflage cabin than trucking the 3 miles to the road. I'd probably be out of the state if I'd stuck to my plan, she thinks, darting up the hill.

Night creatures shrill all around her, giving it an eerie feel. The dogs howl as they close the distance. More frightened than ever, Janet works hastily, shoving tree limbs and other debris out of her way.

Flashlights shine in the near distance. Janet then hears Canines tromping across the ground. I can't let them find me. I can't. I can't. She picks up speed. Her heart beats furiously against her chest wall, making it feel like it's about to explode, and every inch of her small, frail body aches. Pushing her agony aside, she trudges up the cliff.

Halfway up, Janet loses her footing, sliding back down. She looks back to find the canines heading her way. Grabbing anything she can, Janet hoists herself up the cliff. Janet gasps for air as she darts down the dark, barren road.

She only makes it a few feet when she sees headlights brightening the opposite side. It could be my only hope. Darting across, Janet sticks out her thumb.

The truck continues to get closer.

Janet looks across the road to find the cops trudging up the hill. Please stop, oh please stop. Janet begs.

The dog's barking gets louder as they scurry up the cliff.

Hury, Hury, she anxiously thinks. She glances over to find they're midway up the hill. They're going to find me if he doesn't stop.

She looks back toward the road to find the driver closer. She waves her hands through the air, hoping to flag him down. Please stop, oh please stop. She begs as he approaches.

The truck zooms past, sending a blast of wintry air her way. No, she yells, falling to her knees. She looks back to find the canines heading her way. I can't run anymore. I just can't, she sobs, feeling completely spent.

Janet turns around to find brake lights piercing through the murky darkness. He stopped. Jumping to her feet, she sprints toward the truck.

The semi looks vaguely familiar, Janet thinks as she races down the road. It didn't dawn on her where she'd seen it until they sped away.