For “B”. An amazing runner who stars as the huntress in my story. She, like all my friends in my running group, always manages to bring out the best in me. Thank you!
Darkness still hovers. The sun yet to rise as ominous clouds loiter about the horizon. My footfalls and breathing echo around me. I am alone but I am hunted.
My heart shrieks from within the confines of my chest as I dart into the woods. The canopy above strikes eerie shadows as I scamper across the uneven ground. If I slow down I will be caught. If I speed up I risk being hobbled by one of the many potholes that dot the forest floor.
Peering intensely at the ground I desperately cling to my pace. My legs heavy with exertion. Sweat stings my vision.
My ears strain for any sign of my pursuers. A broken twig? The rustle of a bush? Or worse by far, footsteps closing in. But I hear nothing save the thudding of my own heart. Is that good? Or is that bad? I can’t tell.
I can’t tell if those that hunt me are any closer than they were just a few precious moments before. I have no choice. Exhausted I charge up the steep hill. To allow even a moment’s hesitation will cost me in this desperate chase of predator and prey, of hunter and quarry.
I see the clearing up ahead.
Quickly I veer left. My arms flailing, urging my legs to keep pace. I steal a glance over my shoulder just as a flash of colour pierces the inky gloom.
With calm efficiency, the huntress in peach Nike sports top is now mere seconds behind me.