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Chapter 11 – Macy

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By the time the new day dawned, Macy had already spent most of the night psyching herself up. Sure, this wasn’t the best situation, but no one and nothing was actively trying to kill her, so that put the situation considerably ahead of Hogg Run. Against her will, she nodded off for a few hours, but when she woke her adrenaline kicked in and she began studying everything she could, desperate to find an escape route. If she could get away, then she could warn Miriam, or the police... or maybe get hopelessly lost in the woods. But at least then Miriam would eventually find her.

Beatty and Abby packed up camp with truly impressive speed. They threw Macy a foil pouch, which she only figured out was food once they started eating their own. She fumbled with the packaging, her hands bound so close that she couldn’t really get a grip. Her stomach rumbled, eager to eat anything, even as her senses told her she surely wouldn’t like this.

Macy held out the pouch once Abby started in her direction, but Abby didn’t take the pouch. Instead, she pulled a small knife from her belt and cut the cuffs off Macy’s wrists.

“You’re not gonna murder us in our sleep or anything, right?” Beatty said with a laugh, his mouth full of whatever food he slurped out of his own foil pouch.

Macy certainly didn’t intend to. She’d killed one person too many in her life, and no amount of fear would push her into repeating that.

With her newly freed hands, Macy went to work on her food, wondering if it was a military MRE or something else. The packaging didn’t say anything about being federal property, so she assumed the latter. She recoiled as the smell hit her nose, reminding her of some cross between dog food and lunch meat. She didn’t know when she’d get to eat again, so she choked it down. Surprisingly, it seemed to settle pretty well, despite the horrible taste.

They only spent about five minutes eating before they struck out into the woods. Given the ground they’d made the night before, Macy figured they would surely be at the lake soon. Her heart tied itself in knots trying to imagine what might happen then. On paper, these soldiers surely held the upper hand, but Macy hadn’t seen Miriam fail yet, so she remained optimistic.

Cautious. But optimistic.

They didn’t drag her today, instead letting her follow behind. Beatty frequently checked her progress. Macy knew she couldn’t outrun them. If she took off, they’d be on her in a heartbeat, and if she provoked them, they might reach for the rifles, the knives, the handguns—maybe even blow darts or some exotic weapon Macy couldn’t fathom. They seemed to have it all.

They walked in silence, changing direction seemingly at random but always in sync with each other. Macy could discern no trail. Neither Abby nor Beatty ever pulled out a compass, or GPS device. They just seemed to intuit the correct direction.

Suddenly, Abby stopped and held up a hand. Beatty halted, and Macy stopped only inches short from plowing right into his back, unable to contain a quiet yelp.

Abby whispered, “Do you hear that?”

Beatty nodded. Macy redirected her attention to the strange chirping sounds. Not a bird, she didn’t think. Almost more like a baby cat. The sounds came quickly, overlapping each other, surely coming from more than one animal, but all the same for sure. She didn’t even try to guess what sort. With the exception of maybe livestock, Macy knew precious little about wildlife.

Abby broke off towards the sounds, Beatty close behind. Was this Macy’s chance? With her captors hyper-focused, she could run. Disappear into the woods before they could find her. Macy suddenly felt hot, her heart thumping in her chest. Her leg muscles tensed. The scars from Hogg Run burned.

“Hey, girl, come on,” Beatty said, pausing to look back at her.

Macy’s heart fell. She’d missed her chance.

Beatty didn’t turn back until she started towards him. Abby pulled ahead. When Macy finally stumbled into the small break in the underbrush, Abby stood looking at the ground, a half-smile on her face. Macy’s eyes caught up, revealing the prize. A small hole in the ground, the chirping mews pouring forth from it, piercing and loud. Inside, a nest of baby animals, though Macy couldn’t tell what kind.

“Otters?” Beatty asked. “How many?”

Abby peered into the hole. “Two. Maybe three.” She knelt, reached a hand inside and pulled one out by the scruff of its neck. Definitely an otter. Even Macy could tell that. Not nearly as small as she’d imagine a baby, though.

Holding the cub at eye level, Abby studied it. “I don’t think this is a pup.”

The otter shivered. Its mews quieted.

“It’s in a nest,” Beatty said. “Crying like a pup. Giant river otter, maybe?”

“Up here? How would it have even gotten here?”

Beatty only shrugged.

“At any rate, it’s not what we’re here for.”

“True. But otter fur still fetches a decent price. Could sell it off the books, keep the money.”

Macy’s eyes moistened at the thought of watching them slaughter this cute little thing. Beatty looked at her, studying the look on her face, or maybe the tears in her eyes. Appearing stoic couldn’t be listed among Macy’s many skills.

“What? Can’t handle a little blood?” He laughed, as if life meant nothing, before pulling out a large knife. Macy kept quiet, too scared that he’d use it on her if she protested.

Abby sighed and held the baby otter towards Beatty. “Fine. But make it quick. We’ve got more important things to do.”

Beatty roughly took the animal, then all hell broke loose. At first, Macy couldn’t process it. Out of nowhere, the underbrush parted and something big—something huge—broke out into the clearing, ramming into Beatty and knocking him to the ground. Macy backed away, stumbling and falling on her butt, before finally getting a chance to look up.

To see... it.

She couldn’t tell where it began and ended, just one long stretch of muscle and fur. The business end thrashed towards Beatty, fangs bared, fetid breath stout enough for Macy to smell from where she sat on the ground. Beatty still brandished the knife, but the pup had broken free, skittering away. Blood. On the knife. From Beatty or the pup or the devil, she didn’t know.

The thing roared at Beatty, snapping at him just as he shuffled away. Macy scrambled to her feet as Beatty pulled his rifle around and pointed it up at the monstrosity. Macy couldn’t see Abby and stopped looking when she heard Beatty scream as one of the huge, clawed feet of the devil stepped on his chest, forcing him prone. The rifle fired into the air, hitting nothing.

Macy stood frozen in fear, unsure of what to do or how to help.

Help?

Why would she help?

This was her chance.

Her chance to run.