Tansy…
I can’t breathe. My bare feet hurt from the hard packed dirt trail. The pre-dawn chill in the air is like cold steel in my lungs, but I must hurry. If I want to stay ahead of the man who is chasing me, I must ignore the pain and forge ahead. My breathing comes quick but steady. Puffs of steam cloud my vision. The path is dark from the dense leaves above. A root makes me stumble, but I catch myself. Fear helps me ignore the pain and keep moving. I hear my pursuer and he’s gaining on me. The trail is just wide enough for one person. If he catches me I have nowhere to go. The forest is too thick on both sides.
The trail is steeper here. My laboring heart spasms in response to the idea of being caught. I pump my arms harder, focusing on a gnarled oak tree twenty yards ahead. This is a rare straight stretch of trail and I must make every effort to sprint past it so my pursuer doesn’t see how close he has gotten. We have been rounding the curves and twists for the past five miles and I’ve managed to stay just out of his sight. At least it sounds that way. I really have no idea. I’m too afraid to look over my shoulder. He is much bigger and stronger than I am. If he catches me, I will pay for it.
I round another curve and there it is ahead of me—the clearing I’ve been searching for. The light is brighter up there. Within the clearing lies salvation. My calves burn from the steep hills. My thighs ache from the long distance I’ve already come. Stomach in knots from the stress. Pushing all of it deep within, I focus only on the next step. I lengthen my stride. It hurts my bare feet, but I can’t care about that right now. If I don’t make it to that clearing, more than my feet will be hurting. Another root trips me. I tumble. As I go down, I somehow remember what my father taught me. “Roll with the fall, Tansy.” I pop right back up almost in stride. But it’s too late. A heavy hand lands on my shoulder, grasping at my shirt. Wriggling to the side, I escape his grip. My freshly scraped knee hurts from the fall, but I’m only fifteen yards from safety so I push harder. The clearing beckons me, pulling like a dying star. My legs have escaped their subservience to my wishes and have a mind of their own. I am running on autopilot. Couldn’t stop now if I wanted to. And thinking of the man in pursuit and all that would happen if he catches me, stopping is the last thing I want.
Two yards out and I leap from the woods and into the clearing, waiting to feel a last attempted grasp at my shoulder. But it never comes. I have made it! My mind goes blank with elation. I forget about everything except that I’ve reached my goal. I am here, safe and sound. I slow to a walk and put my hands above my head so my lungs can take in the great volumes of air I need to recover from the exertion. Two hands lock around my waist. I scream.