Going into the gas station, I used the restroom and drank from the water fountain. The clerk watched me in the convenience mirror. Apparently my days of looking like a runaway weren’t over. I ignored him and headed out the door to begin my long trek—the gas station hadn’t had anyone who’d looked willing enough to give me a ride. Plus, the clerk would have probably called it in.
I trudged north for an hour, lost in my thoughts of this life and past lives. Why had the Taupe Lady directed my dreams to Gabby and Michelle’s pasts? Why in order? And why couldn’t I recall all the details like I could with other past lives? Because they weren’t dead yet? It made sense. How could I remember everything when everything hadn’t yet occurred? Why direct my dreams at all, though? She claimed she couldn’t interfere, but then did just that, hadn’t she?
Something had me lifting my head instead of watching my feet. The trees around me had lost their leaves, and I could once again see my breath in the air. I huddled in Luke’s jacket and wondered if he’d figured it out yet.
A twig snapped, and a group of three men stepped from the woods onto the shoulder in front of me. Steam rose from their skin. Shorts provided their only covering. Their smiles froze my insides. My feet stopped moving, but my mind whirred with possibilities. Distract and run!
“He went that way,” I called pointing to my left. They all turned, and I sprinted to the right, crashing into the trees ignoring the bite of the branches as they whipped my face.
Chapter Eleven
I ran. They toyed with me. With their speed, I knew they could catch me at any moment. But what fun would that be, I thought bitterly. The echoes of past lives hit me. Same game, same chase. My anger grew, fueling my legs. I pushed past the pain and kept moving. Just like my dreams, I sought something. A place to jump. A way to die cleanly. They couldn’t have me. The price for the world was too high.
A coughing laugh from behind me signaled their full transformation. I dodged around trees gasping for air, not slowing. Was it too much to ask for a random cliff in the woods every now and again?
Fear pooled in my stomach as my leg failed with a cramp. I fell hard but didn’t lay in a pathetic heap for more than a heartbeat. Getting my knees under me, my hand darted into my bag still slung across my body as I sprang up and leaned against a sapling. My quick moves didn’t matter. They were already upon me, their panting louder than my own as they laughed.
Pulling my hand from the bag, I surprised them with my knife. My gift from Luke. I felt a pang thinking of him. Leaving hadn’t kept me any safer.
One of the men shifted back enough to speak, but his mouth was still too long for the words to come out clearly. “What do you think to do with that?”
Around us the trees remained quiet. Only the distant chirping of birds reminded me I wasn’t alone.
“What did you hope to accomplish by chasing me?” I countered.
“Blake told us you would know. You’re the dreamer,” he said further shifting into a man.
“Your new leader?” I asked willing myself to breathe deeply, shoring my determination and trying to quell my fear.
They didn’t answer but it didn’t matter. Their leader changed each cycle, but their goals did not.
“If I’m the dreamer, then we all know the outcome,” I said. “Walk away and maybe I’ll live for another day.”
“I don’t think so, little girl,” he said as he eyed my knife.
“I’d hoped history wouldn’t repeat itself this time. I’m tired of dying.” The fear left me. Only sorrow remained as I spun the knife deftly and plunged it toward my soft middle.
The man roared and moved before the tip did more than pierce the surface. I’d underestimated their speed. But, when he batted it out of my hands, he didn’t realize he furthered my cause. A thin trail of fire blazed across my middle, superficial at best, but his nostrils flared as he scented my blood. I shifted my stance, bracing myself.
He growled but didn’t touch me further. We stood facing each other with me slightly bent holding an arm against the sting on my stomach. The other two stood several paces behind their spokesperson.
“Come with us on your own and spare yourself some pain.”
Spare myself pain? He had just acknowledged I remembered my—our—past lives. “Stupid dog,” I laughed.
He cuffed me upside the head, knocking me to my side. I staggered but did not fall. It hurt my cut but brought me closer to my knife. I didn’t look at the shining blade resting on the decaying leaves. Instead, I straightened and faced him again.
“Your brain mustn’t have expanded again with that last shift.”
This time he slapped me. It was hard enough to justify a stumble a few more steps to my right.
“See?” I managed on a pain-filled exhale. “Pain is all you know how to give. There won’t be any sparing of anything but kindness and mercy.”
He snorted. “Mercy is for the weak.”