Risk and Rescue (Part 3)

The poles creak at my back as I start up the gentle incline. The old water tower protests alongside us and that Reaper has gone suspiciously quiet. I resist the temptation to look back, shuffling onward. I trample the foliage in deliberate stride, eager to leave this place and never return.

I give the tower another cursory glimpse, rechecking the vacant cutouts for voyeurs of death. The dilapidated structure seems closer and vaguely humanoid. The steel siding twisted like an elderly face squinting down in accusation. The sight of it contrasting against the tea stain sky spurs at my unshakable paranoia.

The execution yard is at the most sunken point of the slope, conspicuous is an understatement. I pick up the pace but keep us shrunken in partial cover.

A chill blows through, caressing the endless waves of grass. At this angle, it's as if I'm on a raft stranded in the green pacific. The field is pervasive yet impounding, perhaps inescapable.

I backtrack, following in the fresh footsteps I made on the way down. I feel the weight of dawn at our heels, growing ever more vibrant as I plot our escape. When it comes to speed, there are few things faster than my bike, but given Ashlen's condition, it may not be practical.

Her raspy breathing isn't comforting. She hardly seems lucid. I'll need to counter our setbacks.

Digging a trench is risky in the best of circumstances but doing it in Thorn territory would be suicidal. And on that note, where are they?

I squint, doubting the landscape's tranquility. Could there be an ambush waiting at the peak of the incline?

We make it over the ascent and the great field flattens. I stare down, shaking my head and muttering confirmation of my fears. We're certainly not alone out here. Flattened weeds crisscross in a mashed line over my path.

I creep low, eyes swiveling around to survey as I veer into the unknown tracks. It's better that I get the jump on them before they find us.

Ashlen whimpers and I shush her with a caressing thumb, then hesitate. I can stay concealed but I'm not so sure about her.

I grind my teeth. I despise going into this blind. If only I had the time to misdirect them beforehand. And how many are wandering the grounds? I begin to second guess my plan of action, crouching down and conjuring alternatives. I look up and freeze.

'And… our simple evasion is a bust.'

I find our mysterious patrolman, ducked and camouflaged. Unfortunately, his back is the wrong way. He stares back at us, equally stunned. It appears we've snuck up on each other.

"Well, I'll be damned," he murmurs his disbelief.

I act immediately, refusing to lose poise and work to take the attention off of Ash. I lay her in the grass, keeping my eyes locked on the vampire.

I instruct Ashlen in a swift susurration, "Stay here and don't make a sound."

The guard shakes his reactionary stupor, "Not another inch! Don't move."

Grass parts for a ball of blonde spikes, swimming through the vegetation like a fin to flank my side. I hear the distinct clank of gunmetal as a stocky woman rises from cover, aiming down the sights of a barrel in my peripheral.

A loose fringe of hair blows in front of my eyes. I keep my face down, assessing beneath it.

*Really*, the Thorn are carrying firearms? Could she be overcompensating or are they actually embracing modern technology?

"Hands out. Stand up slowly."

I heed the order, rising carefully. My fingers spread, hands out by each shoulder.

The patrol in front isn't breathing, his trained eyes turn a shade of liquifying rust, breaking down and catching molten light. He must be a dominant left as that hand is positioned higher and ready to engage. His fingertips curve into lethal points in real-time.

No weapon and giving commands, so I can assume he's going to be the real challenge. Granted, I don't get shot first.

The one with the shotgun is restless. A fidgety vampire, now that's something to ensure I'm at ease. Especially when her finger is pulsating on the trigger. And I'm fairly certain that isn't standard amo.

"This isn't a case of coincidence. You'd have to go out of your way to find this place," the commanding vampire mutters his surprise mostly to himself. Those sharp eyes size me up from head up toe, "You've gotta be out of your damn mind."

The fidgety one shuffles an inch closer, making an impatient grunt. Her fingers squeeze the base of the gun in another convulsive jerk. I stand perfectly still.

"Don't think about doing anything funny. She's loaded with silver shot," he warns, then beckons in two flicks of his ready finger, "Walk forward real easy or I'll have her blow a hole in your head."

I feign hesitant compliance and calculate my first step. If I can get a little closer to Twitchy it'll put me in a better spot. I keep my sights on her to gauge the reaction, stepping on a subtle diagonal. The spikey-haired woman's jaw ticks, splitting her lips in a lopsided grimace to reveal one fang. She's not too pretty for a vampire. Gunmetal clicks again, on edge but not alarmed.

'Come on. Divert your attention for a split second, that's all I need.'

"Not to her, over to me," the man says after my third pseudo sidestep. He's much too vigilant. I won't be able to get away with much around him.

I pause, glancing at Fidget again. She's fixed on me and will definitely shoot on his order.

As I approach, time slows to molasses. The silence makes the glades exceptionally loud as I press ahead, tangling and snapping around my shins.

Twitchy circles out of view, my lips press tightly together. I can picture the shotgun aimed at the back of my head, hear her nails brush against the forend as she massages it. I feel the light tremor of her foot pawing the ground behind.

"Bruce," the man barks out, his eyes never leaving my face, "We've got something over here!"

That drop of suspense begins in my stomach, like a well bucket descending, sinking into dark waters. Two is bad enough. I'm careful to keep my face blank and wait for an opening, but it's looking grim. This guy is not giving me an inch.

Another step forward. I listen to Twitchy's foot drop after mine. She's too far back to pivot and disarm.

My thoughts dampen with each step. The worries flatten, settling on the back burner. Emotional responses will not benefit me here, I need to focus. Each of them will have to be taken out or we can kiss our escape goodbye.

A few more steps and I'm within a lunge striking distance of the eagle-eyed man. Fidget's attention hasn't seemed to deviate from the back of my skull. If I get much closer I'll lose my advantage to turn the tables. I stall and gulp for effect. The firearm rustles fretfully.

"Did I tell you to stop? Keep com-"

An incomprehensible scream slices through the tension. A sudden harpy shriek makes my guts shrivel and twist, nearly blotting out my rational nerve.

The guard's mouth drops open, bulging eyes, riveted by the space over my head. I react, seizing the opportunity as the woman howls behind. Her cry conjoins with that inhuman sound. I tackle the vampire to the ground. An aimless round of buckshot sprays the air with a deafening pop.