Chapter 8: Flight into the Unknown

The night air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decay as Alice, Echo, and I ran, our breaths ragged and desperate. The wounded man, barely conscious and barely able to move on his own, sagged heavily against Alice's side, slowing us down with every struggling step.

The shrieks behind us grew louder. The things that had found us at the fire were closing in fast, their movements erratic yet relentless.

I stole a glance over my shoulder. Shadows twisted and contorted between the trees, flickering as the moonlight failed to fully illuminate our pursuers. Their figures were grotesque—human shapes, twisted and distorted by something unnatural. Something that had stolen their humanity and replaced it with a relentless hunger.

"We need to lose them," I hissed, adjusting my grip on the crowbar. "If they keep tracking us, we're dead."

Alice was panting from the effort of keeping the man upright. "You think I don't know that?" she snapped, though there was no real venom in her voice. "Where the hell are we supposed to go?"

"The river," I said, barely slowing my pace. "If we can reach the river, maybe we can shake them off."

The ground beneath us sloped downward, the terrain becoming treacherous with loose rocks and tangled roots. Echo barked sharply, darting ahead, his keen senses leading the way. The trees pressed in around us, their gnarled branches clawing at our clothes like skeletal fingers.

Then, a guttural screech split the air, closer than before.

"They're gaining!" Alice gasped.

I spun mid-stride, raising my crowbar just in time to catch the first creature as it lunged. The force of the impact rattled my arms. The thing snarled, its fingers disjointed and twitching in unnatural directions. Its hollow eyes glowed with malice. With a grunt, I shoved it back and swung again, the crunch of breaking bone momentarily satisfying before more figures surged from the darkness.

Alice pulled an arrow from her quiver, letting go of the man just long enough to fire a shot. The arrow embedded itself in the chest of one of the creatures, but it barely slowed. "Oh, come on!" she cursed, reaching for another.

"We can't fight them all!" I shouted, shoving another attacker back before turning to Alice. "Move! Now!"

Alice gritted her teeth, grabbed the man, and pushed forward, ignoring his groans of pain. I covered their retreat, swinging my crowbar wildly to keep the creatures at bay. Echo snarled and snapped at their heels, his presence a blur of gold and white against the darkened forest.

Then, suddenly, the trees thinned.

Alice gasped as she saw it—a glimmer of moonlight on rushing water.

"The river!" she cried.

I didn't hesitate. "Get in!"

Without thinking, we splashed into the icy water, the shock of it stealing the breath from our lungs. The current was strong, tugging at our legs, but we pressed forward, half-dragging the wounded man as the creatures skidded to a halt at the water's edge.

I dared to look back. The creatures paced frantically along the shoreline, their distorted forms twitching violently. One let out a frustrated screech and stepped forward, but as soon as its foot touched the water, it recoiled with an agonized shriek. The others hesitated, snarling but unwilling to follow.

"They… they won't cross," Alice panted, staring in disbelief.

I swallowed hard. The things—whatever they were—were afraid of the water.

I didn't know why, and at that moment, I didn't care.

"We keep moving," I said firmly. "We follow the river and get as far away from here as we can."

Alice nodded, exhaustion written across her face, but she didn't argue. With the stranger still leaning heavily on her, she trudged forward through the water, Echo paddling beside her.

I took one last look at the figures writhing at the shore, their eerie, unnatural movements a grotesque reminder of how close death had been.

Then, without another word, I followed my companions downstream, disappearing into the darkness of the night.

The river carried us further than any of us had anticipated. The current, though strong, was not violent, allowing us to keep a steady pace as we waded through the freezing water. Every so often, I glanced back, half-expecting to see those creatures attempting to brave the river, but they remained on the shore, pacing restlessly, their shrieks fading with distance.

"We need to find a place to rest," Alice muttered, her voice hoarse from exhaustion. The wounded man was barely conscious now, his weight dragging heavily against her.

I scanned the banks. The trees had thinned out slightly, and up ahead, I spotted what looked like the remnants of an old cabin, half-collapsed and covered in vines. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

"There," I pointed. "We'll check it out."

As we stumbled onto the riverbank, Echo shook himself off, water spraying in every direction. Alice and I hauled the stranger onto the damp grass, both of us collapsing beside him for a moment, catching our breath.

Alice pressed her fingers to the man's neck. "He's still alive. Barely."

I studied him under the dim moonlight. He looked worse up close—his skin was clammy, his breathing shallow. Whatever he had been through before we found him had pushed him to the brink.

"We don't even know his name," Alice murmured.

I exhaled, running a hand through my wet hair. "We'll ask when he wakes up. If he wakes up."

Alice frowned but didn't argue.

Echo let out a low whimper, standing at the entrance of the ruined cabin. He sniffed the air, his ears twitching.

I pushed myself up, gripping my crowbar tightly as I stepped toward the entrance. The door hung off its hinges, creaking slightly in the wind. I peered inside, my eyes adjusting to the darkness.

The interior was musty and damp, but it was empty. No bodies. No signs of recent life. Just dust, broken furniture, and remnants of a world long gone.

"It's safe," I said over my shoulder. "For now."

Alice helped ease the wounded man inside, laying him down carefully on a pile of old blankets she had scavenged from the corner.

I sat by the doorway, my weapon resting across my lap. I could still hear the river, its soft murmur strangely comforting.

"They were scared of the water," Alice murmured, staring out at the moonlit stream. "That means something, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah. It means we might finally have an advantage."

Alice exhaled, leaning back against the wall. "Then let's hope we can figure out why before we run out of places to hide."

Outside, the night stretched on, silent except for the whispering of the wind and the distant, fading echoes of our pursuers.