---For now, this will be titled Running, but when I think of a better title, it will be renamed. Let me know how you like it! This will be a book soon!--- Ch. 1 - The Messenger by Harp4Christ A shout sounded in the distance as I made my final evacuation preparations. Though I couldn’t make out the words very well, the shout sounded very urgent. In the field I could see a small, dark figure running as quickly as it could toward the house. Something was obviously very wrong. Taking my pack and all the belongings I was allowed to take, I made my way toward the figure. As I drew closer, I could begin to make out the words: “Can you hear me! Can you hear me running? CAN YOU HEAR ME!! CAN YOU HEAR ME CALLING YOU?!” “Yes, I can hear you! What’s wrong? What’s happened?” I shouted frantically. My city had received a warning an hour ago, telling us to immediately and quickly evacuate. Though the message didn’t say why, I knew from the tone of the message that it was an emergency, and I must heed and obey the message. I had started packing the instant I had heard the entire message. Though the figure was still quite a few feet away, he – I could now see it was a man – began shouting his message. I recognized the voice, but from where? That was a question for another time, however, since he kept talking. “Katy, take your dogs and yourself, and hide in the cellar! There’s no time for questions, no time for evacuation, they’re coming! We tried to stop them, but they’re gaining on us. By now, the fighting’s close at hand – possibly three miles or less. I came as quickly as I could. Katy – don’t ask how I know your name – you must listen very carefully. Do not believe anything the state or the church tell you – they’ve been taken over. Corrupted. You must believe me,” said the man, now standing next to me, as I began to ask how he knew that. “You must believe me! Katy, I’m with the high command. You’ll be safe if you listen to what I tell you to do. DO NOT believe either the state or the church. Even though they convince you of their truthfulness, they have been corrupted beyond repair. The high command was created in case such a thing happened, but we were unable to contain the fighting which ensued after the corruption.” “But – how? How did the church get caught—” “No questions. There’s no time. I brought this,” he said, handing me a stack of pages, with some almost illegible handwriting on them, “in the hopes that maybe it will satisfy your well-known curiosity. But you must understand this: they’re after you. Though they’ll take whoever they can, they will never stop until they find you. Now, you must listen to the instructions I give you. There’s a bow and some arrows – I put them there – just inside the doorway to the cellar. Take it, and use it ONLY in emergency. Whatever you do, DO NOT use it unless you absolutely MUST; only use it if you will die otherwise. Oh, and, if you’re not religious, you might want to go ahead and believe, because you’re going to need some divine help to survive.” “I – what…? Uh, you—” “NO QUESTIONS, I said!” interrupted the man again. “now GO! Take your dogs, get in the cellar. You must keep them quiet—tie their snouts if you must. But keep them with you, you’ll be needing them. You’ll see a pile of crates – move those aside, there’s a doorway behind them. Get inside it, with your dogs and only your most important belongings. And stay down there until you hear absolute silence for twelve hours. If you wish to keep your life, you must do exactly as I say. Go,” he said, “and may God be with you, and be merciful to us all.” And with that, he trotted off the way he came. Already, I could see smoke rising from the east. Though I still had many more questions, I did as he said – I ran straight for the dogs, who were in the back yard, then headed for the cellar.
Ch. 2 – In Hiding The cellar door creaked loudly as I swung it down, shutting out the last bits of natural daylight from the cellar. I turned on my flashlight and saw, just as the oddly familiar man had said, a bow, with a quiver of about twenty arrows, laying right near the door. Odd that he would give me a bow, rather than a gun, I thought. Maybe for silence? That was possible, as he HAD said to be perfectly quiet for twelve hours, even after the noise from the war above had ceased. I picked up the bow, musingly turning it around in my hands. It was made from gorgeous mahogany, finished with a satin finish. The ends of the bow were tipped with brass, and the string was one of the finest bowstrings I’d ever seen. It must have cost nearly $700, it was such a fine bow. Setting it down, I picked up the quiver and inspected it. It was also very well-made, the quiver being out of leather, and the arrows out of walnut, with very fine steel tips, and chicken feathers on the ends. Wherever the strange man had gotten the bow, quiver, and arrows, he must have spent a lot on it, to get such good quality. I swung the quiver and the bow over my back, grabbed my dogs’ leashes, tied the dogs to a pole, and started to push the now-obvious crates away from the door. Sure enough, there was a door I’d never seen before, and a key hanging on a string around the handle, with a note attached to it. I lifted the key over the door handle and untied the string, letting the note fall to the ground. Picking it up, I began to read it: “Dear Katy, “This must be a confusing day for you. I apologize for being unable to tell you more, but that’s what the piece of paper I gave you is for. What you need to know is, past this door, there is a long tunnel, with a door at the end. Go inside the door, with this key, and lock it from the inside. Inside the door you will find a blowtorch. Take it and melt the keyhole, making the door nearly impossible to open. There’s enough food for you to last a few days, should the fighting last as long as I think it might. Read the letter I gave you; it’ll give you further instructions. Now hurry, before they find you! Sincerely, Your faithful friend John.” So THAT’s who that is, I thought. Though it was slightly odd he explained the High Command to me, he should have known why they were going for me… unless, I thought with a start, his memory has been erased, and he’s now working for them. Chills flew up and down my spine as I suddenly realized I had just walked into a trap. I turned around and ran for the door, but when I reached it, I paused, my hand hovering over the handle. What if there’s a reason he gave me the letter? I had to know. I reached into my pocket and took out the letter. As I unfolded it, I froze. I could have sworn I just heard scratching coming from the door. I grabbed a knife, and put my ear against the door. There it was again, that light scratching, almost as though somebody were writing on the door. My heart beat faster and faster as the scratching continued – I had to know what was in the letter, I just knew that it would tell me. And so I unfolded it again. “Dear Katy,” it said, in a ferociously scribbled script, as though somebody had been in an extreme hurry when they wrote it. “DISREGARD everything I’ve just told you. I was bugged, forced into this by my captors. What I said about the state and church, though, is 100% true. But continue reading. DO NOT go into the hatch, there are guards waiting for you. I’m so sorry I had to lie to you, but it had to be done. They don’t yet know your position in the High Command, though they know mine. You must take your dogs, the bow, and only the most critical supplies and RUN out of the hatch. It is a possibility you’ve heard the scratching already; that’s the signal to bolt. Read the rest of this after you’ve gotten to the barn. And – Good luck, Katy.” I quickly folded it back and put it in my pocket, not quite sure what to believe. The scratching stopped; I had to make a quick decision – go, or stay, either way, risking attack. I decided on going. I’m one of those people who just can’t resist the adventurous option, even when it’ll probably get me killed. I untied my dogs, unlocked the door, and pushed it open, holding my breath, wondering what might be out there. Nothing. Nobody and nothing, not even a bird or bug was to be seen or heard. In the eerie silence, the cellar door sounded like those creaky doors from horror movies, that open as the murderer creeps closer to the victim. Curious to see what had been written on the door, I closed it and turned around to look, and froze, chills going up and down my spine again. Written there, on the door, in freshly glistening blood, were the words, “RUN, KATY!” Whose blood is that?! I thought. No time for questions. My mind leapt toward the worst-case scenario, and my eyes watered at the thought. No time for this, Katy! You must run toward the barn, regardless of whose blood that is. GO! I had a hard time convincing my legs to move, but somehow, I managed to. I ran with all my might, my dogs chasing behind me, seeming to enjoy the exercise. I’m not sure they knew how much danger we were all in. The barn was a long run from the cellar, but I made it in about fifteen minutes of full-on sprinting. I arrived completely out of breath, with two panting dogs and my luggage, completely intact. I immediately knew why John had sent me here; the barn was completely enclosed by two rocky hills, impossible to climb, the only exception being the door, which opened into the field. Very easy to defend. I remembered the note after catching my breath, and, after first getting a drink of water, I uncrumpled the hastily folded note and smoothed it out on the table. I reread the first part again, skimming over it in my haste to get to the next part. “Now that you’ve (hopefully) run to the barn, let me explain this all to you. You’re wondering whose blood that is on the door – It’s probably best you don’t know, but knowing your curiosity, you’ll find out one way or another. It’s mine. They have been torturing me for weeks, just transplanting blood from someone else with my blood type when I lose too much blood. They take my blood, too, to give to others, even when I’m running out. BEFORE you go trying to rescue me, I stole some of the blood they already had from me; it was the only sort of ink I could find. But they don’t care about me. I knew I had to help you, because they let it slip while they thought I wasn’t listening. You must NEVER let them get that information, Katy. No matter what. Now. Instructions. You must go to a wooded area, somewhere down south where nobody expects to see woods. The forest is your home, it’s your playground. If you are ever being chased, go straight into the forest. Try going to Broken Bow, Oklahoma. They’re the least likely to find you there, especially if you hide in some of the caves. I’ll find you there soon, Katy. And we’ll survive. God bless you, Kaitlyn Evelence. Sincerely, Your faithful friend, John.” I read that, five times over, then fell asleep with my head against the wall. When I woke up, hours later, I could hear the distant fighting, random gunshots here and there, screams, explosions. I then remembered, there was a cellar here, too – I pushed aside the straw and opened it, pulling my two dogs, my luggage, and all the evidence I was ever here, into the cellar with me. With a loud CLANG the door shut, locking automatically. The lights came on down there, but I really didn’t need them. There was already a window letting in light, and it was still daytime, although the sun was beginning to set. And inside that cellar, with another note on it, was a knife, almost as long as my forearm, and three inches wide. My old hunting knife. I unfolded the third note as carefully as the first two, reading it very carefully: “Change of plans, Katy. You need to find a forest closer to here. Here’s your hunting knife; you’re going to need it to eat. Oh, and, by the way, you forgot to check the cellar before reading this. Your faithful friend, John.” I looked around, carefully, after reading that. And in the corner, I saw a body draped limp across the crates in the back. Not breathing, looking as though it had bled to death. No, I thought. No, no no no no! NO! This CANNOT be happening! And yet, it was. It was happening.
For some reason, the indents aren't working quite right, even when I go in and manually put five spaces. I promise, I put indents! - I edited Ch. 2 for some annoying mistakes made because I was tired. In the future, I'll try not to submit it until I've checked for mistakes when I'm a little less tired... -
This one's a bit sloppy... and please suggest titles for the chapters (or I might just get rid of titles alltogether, since I'm really bad at titling things...). But here it is. Ch. 3 – To be named (suggest names please) Tears brimming in my eyes, I crept slowly toward the lifeless body, hating what I knew I’d find. But I had to be sure, so I forced myself to continue coming closer. I peered into the face, which looked at peace, even though most of the rest of the body was covered in painful-looking gashes and other wounds. My sister could have been sleeping soundly, if it weren’t for the fact that her face was white and she wasn’t breathing. I tenderly picked her up, slightly shocked by how cold she was, and laid her down in the corner of the cellar – I would bury her tomorrow. I had so many questions, and no answers to any of them, without much hope of ever getting answers. Why was poor Trisha laying in this cellar, completely lifeless? How long ago did she die? Why had John not told me, since he obviously knew about it before writing the first note? And why Trisha? My knees buckled beneath me, then completely gave out, and I fell onto them. The tears brimming behind my eyelids seemed to be sucked back by some invisible force, as I sat there, on my heels, completely stunned at the entire day’s events. Annie, one of my dogs, trotted up to the body, sniffed it, gave a little whine, then turned toward me. I could see she was trying to comfort me when she came up, sat on my lap, and set her front paws on my shoulders, almost as though she were hugging me. At this time, I was incredibly glad I had invested in a well-trained therapy dog; Annie was going to be my rock for the next couple of years. In fact, she already had been helping me a lot before this day. I was so shocked by Trisha’s unexpected death that I sat there, where I’d fallen, just staring at her body, for nearly four hours before I moved to a corner, laid down, and fell asleep, in a daze. Even though I had slept for a few hours earlier in the day, I managed to sleep until 7:00 in the morning, according to the mantle clock in the cellar. For a moment, I didn’t realize where I was, then the events of yesterday came flooding back, tumbling over one another and getting mixed up in the process. And then, I turned my head and saw Trisha’s body again. This time, though, my eyes never even brimmed with tears. I was too numb, too shocked, to cry, even after a good night’s sleep. I think that’s really when I realized what I was up against, who was chasing me… and then, I realized, I needed to do whatever I must to survive, to avenge my beautiful younger sister’s death. Even if I really wanted to give up, with all my being. I realized with a jolt that it was entirely silent outside, but, remembering John’s words, I sat inside for another five hours, mulling everything over, staring blankly at a wall, until I just couldn’t take it anymore and opened the door for some fresh air. Stepping out, I took a deep breath to rid my lungs of the musty cellar air, and walked over to the mini kitchen that was in the corner of the barn. I suppose it was more of a shop, really, with hay and animals in it, because of the mini kitchen, table, and bathroom, but growing up, we’d always just called it a barn. The refrigerator was a bit stubborn, as always, when I tried to open it, but it still worked and was still cold. I grabbed the juice canister off the top shelf, then rummaged through the fruit drawer, pulling out an orange and some grapes for my breakfast, and a can of dog food for my hungry dogs. I always kept half my leftovers in this fridge, in case of an emergency, so we’d have some sort of food out here, should we ever need to evacuate from our house. And I certainly was glad of that, because, sure enough, I needed it. Opening the cabinet, I grabbed two dog bowls, a juice cup, and a small plate. I set the dog bowls down, filling them with the food, and ambled over to the table to eat my own food. The sweet juices of my fruit trickled down my parched throat, which I was just now realizing needed water. About halfway through my orange, there was a soft thunk outside the door, which, in the silence, made me jump about two inches off my seat. I jumped up and readied my bow, then crept outside to check it out. As soon as I set foot out of the door I did a quick sweep of the area, then looked at the barn. Buried a few inches into the wood was an arrow with a note in it. Oh John, how many notes do you need to send… I took it off the arrow and read it. “Dear Kat— Go on soon. They’re coming. I’m with them, you must leave evidence you were there or they’ll kill me. Oh, take Trish; there’s no time to bury her. If I remember right, the horses are just out back. The brown one is the fastest. Don’t ever wait for me, if I live, I’ll find you, wherever you are. John” I ran back into the barn, grabbed my half-eaten orange and some other fruit, my luggage, my sister, my dogs, and everything I needed for my horse, and headed out back. Just as John had said in his latest note, there were horses out there, and one brown horse. I approached the horse, who, unused to human company, shied away from Annie and Linus, but eventually calmed down as I stroked it. I put the saddle on the horse quickly, then managed to get the reins over its head. Tying my luggage on its back was no small matter, however, as I had a bit too much, but she didn’t complain at all – she must be used to oversize loads. And then I put Trish onto her. With my bow over my back again, I jumped on her back, whistled to my dogs to follow, and started off at a light trot. Who knew a life could change this much within twenty-four hours?
Also, Ch. 3 might be completely revised when I'm a little less tired. I loved the first two but I kinda hate the third... let me know what you guys think.
Nice one, I'm enjoying myself here. Almost made it through the first post (I always take my time with these things) but I'm seriously enjoying this! Correct, that's simply the way the formatting works on this forum, there's no easy way around it. As to editing: I know plenty of others who do that as well, myself included. It's simply much easier to read back when it's posted and you can really see what you intended to do. Don't worry about it!
Ch. 4 I rode until nightfall, and even then, a little longer. I only halted and set up camp when my poor dogs began to lag behind my lathering horse. The place I chose to set up camp in was quite unusual, although relatively easy to defend, and easy to take cover in, should there be a need for that. The clearing where I put the fire was large; maybe about twenty feet in diameter. Just enough space for me and my dogs to rest, away from the horse, should she shy away from an animal in the night, but not enough for the horse to be too far away. There was a babbling brook close by; I could hear it, the fresh water running downhill to who knows where, giving life to everything around it. And birds, everywhere, singing joyously, as though all was right in the world, as though the government hadn’t fallen apart, as though all our lives weren’t in danger… I sighed, knowing nothing would ever be the same again, though I still, at that point, held on to the slim hope that eventually, my life would go back to normal. If only I’d never been in the High Command, or just never known... But I had, and that was that. Now I had to reap the consequences. I remembered John, who had said he was being tortured. I wonder how many more, I thought, will be tortured because of me? How long will it take them to give up? I hated that I was the cause of so much suffering, but as far as I could see, the only other option was giving myself up and possibly being tortured to the point of giving away one of the most important secrets in the High Command. It might’ve changed my life one day, if I’d remembered it. But, of course, typical Katy-style, I forgot it when I needed it most. The last thing I remember from that night is digging Trish’s grave and burying her, then laying down and thinking again on the last two days’ events. And then I fell so fast asleep I almost didn’t hear it – A twig snapping, whether from human or animal feet, and leaves crunching. I jolted awake and sat straight up, looking around. What was that?! Linus started growling, the fur on his back pricking up, and the hair on my arms standing straight, goosebumps crawling over my body. I grabbed a flashlight and Linus’s leash, and went out to investigate. And then I heard it. That low, ominous growling and yipping, made by not Linus, but wolves. A pack of about fifteen of them. And before I knew it, Linus had escaped my hold and run straight toward them. “Linus! STOP, come back!! LINUS!” I frantically shouted, trying to catch him before he got too close, and failing multiple times. “LINUS!!” Poor Linus. There was nothing I could do as he attacked the pack of wolves, ignorant to the fact that the wolves would utterly destroy him. I could only watch as they viciously tore his body apart, while he fought valiantly. I ran toward him, not entirely sure what I would do when I got to him, snatching a branch off the ground as I approached the snarling pack of wolves. I think I must have scared them, waving my stick in their faces, because they gave up their attack on Linus and turned back, running away from the angry, grief-stricken dog owner I was. But I had been too late. I fell to my knees next to Linus’s prostrate form, this time tears falling freely out of my eyes, screaming who-knows-what at the top of my lungs, venting every bit of anger, grief, exhaustion, frustration, and hate I’d been bottling up for the past eight years. His mutilated body lay taking its last breaths, and he looked up at me with the most pitiful expression on his beautiful face, as though he were saying “sorry.” I buried my head in his matted and bloody fur, sobbing uncontrollably. As Linus breathed his very final breath, he used the last of his energy to lift his head and give me one of those slobbery “I’m so glad you’re here” kisses. Then he laid down his head and breathed his last. I put my arms around his body again, picked him up, and carried him back to camp. My screams had woken up Annie, who was patrolling the clearing, sniffing the ground for a trail. She looked up at me as I walked back toward camp, Linus, dead in my arms, tears covering my face, and seemed to know exactly what happened. I would have to dig yet another grave, bury yet another family member whom I loved dearly. And once again, I’d blame myself for everything that happened. I couldn’t get back to sleep that night, and neither could Annie. She patrolled up and down in front of me, guarding me from anything else that might try to kill me. As the first light of dawn streaked the sky, I gave up on trying to get more sleep and sat up, too quickly, giving me that feeling where I can’t see anything for a few seconds, and feel dizzy or lightheaded. The feeling quickly dissipated, though, and I stood up and went over to my horse and took food out of the pack. And I froze, seeing a glint in the pack. My hunting knife. How had I forgotten it, when I needed it most! I could have saved Linus’s life, if only I had remembered. But I hadn’t, and now I’d lost a friend. I wondered how many more friends I would lose due to my carelessness. Breaking from my melancholy thoughts, I took the food back to the smoldering fire, sat down, and began eating. Annie joined me, though she seemed a bit slower than usual. She laid her head on my lap and stared listlessly out into the woods. But after resting for a few moments, she got up, licked me on the cheek, and resumed her incessant pacing. After my breakfast, I dug yet another grave, next to Trisha’s grave, and buried the maimed body of Linus, spilling not a few tears. Then I packed everything up, shoveled dirt over the fire, and hopped on my horse, moving along. Annie followed without a signal – She knew nothing was left for her at home, that our home was now that of a gypsy, wandering, without really knowing where we were heading. My mind filled with questions as I rode. Would life stay this way? How many more people would I bring destruction to? Would I ever have a home again? I didn’t know it yet, but in a few days, I would experience more change than ever before. And this time, it would leave a scar much deeper than anything ever before. It would change my life forever.
Ch. 5Two days later, after riding almost the entire time, only stopping to sleep and eat, I finally reached a place where I decided nobody could ever find me. But even then, I set my horse free, grabbed all the packs, and set out on foot, continuing deeper into the forest until I literally dropped to my knees from exhaustion, and slept where I fell. When I woke up the next day, it was almost noon. I guessed I’d been sleeping for around sixteen hours at least, and got up, feeling only slightly refreshed. My muscles and joints screamed in protest, and I swayed as I tried to stand up, but I managed to get up, open my pack, grab food, and thud down on the ground again to eat. Even though it was all stale, the bread I had brought tasted delicious as I wolfed two loaves down in my beast-like hunger. As I lifted my water bottle to my lips, however, I realized there were only a few drops left. I would have to go seek out water as my first course of action. Thankfully, however, I had saved four empty bottles. And that’s what I did as soon as I ate. I forced myself to get up, told exhausted Annie to stay put, and traipsed off into the woods in search of fresh water. It might take a while, but I was prepared for that. I crept soundlessly through the dense forest, in the case that I might find some wild game to shoot – my food supply was running dangerously low. It took me four hours to hear anything, except for the incessant tapping of woodpeckers and chirping of little birds, but eventually, I heard the telltale trickle of a small spring in the distance. Following the sound, I broke into a trot, wishing I could find a place a little closer, but still happy I’d found the water. Then it came into view, and I realized it was a stream flowing downhill to a much bigger river, which in turn flowed into a large waterfall. It would seem I had come to the end of the forest very suddenly, as I could see most of the stream and river, and the pool the falls dumped into. Now I could hear the distant rumble of the falls, but they looked to be about half a mile away. The water trickled down from somewhere inside the forest, gradually growing in size, tumbling over boulders and cutting through grasslands, falling off a rocky cliff in a tall waterfall, into a large lake surrounded by more forest. I turned my attention to the water. It was very clear, and, though I was a bit wary of putting my head in the water and drinking it, without knowing anything about its source, I filled my bottles full of water and downed an entire bottle. I refilled that bottle, turned around and, marking my way as I went, walked home. It took me less time to get home than it did going toward the stream, because I had been wandering in loops the entire time, with a result of about six hours total. I hadn’t seen any deer or large animals I could kill to eat, but there had been tons of birds and rabbits. I ate the very last of my food, drank the precious water, and laid down next to Annie, falling into sleep almost the moment I set my head down on the ground. My sleep was restless, however, as I dreamed of torture, war, and the deadly secret I held, the secret which, if given to the enemy, would shatter any hope any of us still held of surviving the war which was already begun. The very next morning, I woke up before the first rays of sunlight peeked above the horizon. Confused, I slowly sat up and rubbed my eyes. Something had woken me up. Had I dreamed it, or was there a small child calling out in the forest for help? Annie, who had slept most of the day before, was up and pacing in a circle around my camp, surveying the surrounding forest for threats. Her bushy tail swung gently back and forth as she took long, even strides, her large, blue eyes taking in every minute detail. Seeing me sitting up, she trotted over and licked my cheek. I decided today would be our off-day, since we’d been running for the past seven days. In order to keep my sanity, I had brought a single book – Part 1 of The Hunger Games. I’d never owned the other two, but part one was my favorite book of all the ones I owned. After cooking a quick breakfast, I took it out of my pack and started reading. A couple hours later, immersed in my reading, I was quite surprised when Annie came running over, nudging me with an urgency she had never had before. Grudgingly, I set down my book, grabbed my bow and arrows and a knife, and followed Annie into the forest. She seemed to be following her nose, but somehow navigating like she’d been here before. Growing quickly more alert, I became sensitive to every abnormal sound in the forest – and as I became more and more alert, I noticed many more unusual sounds. Branches cracking in the green canopy above, leaves crunching unendingly, one time I even thought I heard a sneeze – Definitely not normal forest sounds. My heart began to beat faster and faster, goosebumps endlessly crawling across my skin. “Annie,” I whispered, “we need to turn back.” Hearing her name, she turned around, quietly whined once, and kept on going. We kept on walking for a few more minutes, then, very suddenly, we came to a clearing, with a large pit in the center. No, I thought. There’s no way they could already have found it. We weren’t far enough from my house for this! But the instant I thought that, that single thought was cancelled. The stench of many deaths arose mercilessly from the pit, making me gag. Covering my mouth and nose with my sleeve, I continued to follow Annie even closer to the pit, afraid of what I’d find. And indeed, when I peered in, I instantly regretted it. Bodies, some in more advanced states of decomposition than others, filled the pit almost to the brim. The stench seeped through my arm-mask, burnt my eyes, and drove poor Annie all the way to the edge of the clearing. This wasn’t the worst though. It wasn’t until I had the nerve – and stomach – to creep closer that I realized who these people were. Half of them were guards of some sort, the other half I recognized as the remaining non-corrupt politicians in the government. Attached to a small sapling on the edge of the pit was yet another letter. Snatching it and backing away before I let the contents of my stomach join the rotting flesh in the pit, I ran back to the edge of the clearing, where Annie was. I sat down and unfolded the letter, reading: “Ms. Evelence, You may have noticed the uniforms of these people. We, the honest government officials, regret to say that, because of your stubbornness, we had to try other means of… persuasion. We dislike this just as much as you do, Ms. Evelence. But we will do what we must until you comply. You may not have been too close to these people – we can hardly blame you – but we know it’s going to affect you. We plead with you to not do this to us, to them, to yourself. We plead with you to be cooperative, and you and your family will be safe. Waiting back at your camp is an official you may talk to. For your safety, you will be taken into custody until you tell us your secret. If you do not comply with our wishes, we will be forced to take more extreme measures. Ms. Evelence, if you do not tell us that which we wish to know, we will be forced to kill your family. Please, Ms. Evelence, do not make us take that drastic a measure. Yours truly, Joshua Kenzie, Director of Security” It wasn’t until I read that letter that I realized exactly what I was up against. I had to choose between my family and this secret. How could I ever choose between two things that important? Feel free to point out any mistakes you might find.
