Unremembered (Unremembered #1)(36)

His dark, shallow eyes drift from my head to my feet. Assessing. Calculating.

My wrist prickles again and a small contraption in his hand lets out a soft beep. He peers down at it briefly before returning his gaze to me and I watch the disfigured dark pink tissue of his scar contort as his lips curl into a triumphant smile.





22


DARKNESS


I hear a voice. It’s telling me to run. Actually it’s screaming it. I don’t wait around to figure out who it belongs to. I just obey.

With the swarm of people accumulating to my left, and the man in front me, I turn one hundred and eighty degrees and make a dash for the trees. My legs move faster than I’ve ever felt them move. They rejoice. As though this is what they were meant to do. As though someone has released them from lifelong bondage.

I duck and weave through the trees easily. My body knows where they are before my mind does.

I hear the footsteps behind me. I don’t have to look back to know who’s following me. I can sense him there. But his footsteps seem to be growing fainter with each passing second. As though he’s struggling to keep pace with me.

I don’t feel tired, but I know I can’t keep running forever. I have to do something.

I see a clearing up ahead. About a mile away. The forest is broken by the highway. I can hear the soft roar of car engines as they pass. I lower my head and try to pick up my speed.

The wind whips my face. Branches scratch at my arms. Dried leaves crunch under my feet.

Less than two minutes later, I reach a road. It’s wider than the street I walked to the diner. I think this is what Heather called the highway. My body urges me to keep going but my mind is telling me to stop and take a moment to assess the traffic. In the end, my body wins and I plough forward. My feet hit the concrete just as a giant eighteen-wheel truck appears over the top of the hill to my right. I dash in front of it, willing myself to run even faster. The front end of the truck misses me by an inch. I can feel the whizz of air on my back as it barely skims past me.

The driver reacts to my blur. Slamming on the brakes. There’s a horrible screeching sound as the wheels skid. I stop running and turn around in time to see the entire cargo area of the truck swing out. The torque is too much for the truck to handle. It tips on to its side and continues to skid along the road, sparks flying off the pavement, before finally coming to a rest horizontally across the two-lane highway.

Another car approaches from the opposite direction but isn’t able to stop in time. It collides right into the bed of the truck. The drivers are able to scramble out right before both vehicles burst into flames. And soon three more cars have swerved around the wreck.

I stumble up the small hill and stand petrified as I take in the scope of the accident. It looks horrific.

Oh no. Please let this be another dream.

Please let me wake up.

But I don’t. Because I am already awake. It’s real.

That guilty feeling starts to gurgle in my stomach. It’s much stronger than last time, when the only thing I did was sneak out of the house at five in the morning. The bitter sensation rises up, singeing my throat until I can’t hold back. I gag and bend over. An acidy liquid spews from my mouth on to the grassy ground.

It tastes like grilled cheese sandwiches.

After it’s over, I quickly look up and scan the horizon once again. I see my pursuer emerge from the forest on the other side of the highway. He stops abruptly at the sight of the accident and takes a moment to survey the damage.

The tattoo on my wrist starts to tingle again. A faint buzzing sensation.

I glance down at it and then back at him. His eyes slowly start to climb – up over the wreckage, ascending the hill – until they land on me. And even from this great distance, even in the moonlit night, our eyes lock.

I watch his chilling grey eyes narrow ever so slightly as he zeroes in on his target.

Me.

He starts running again, manoeuvring around the rubble and debris. He disappears momentarily in the smoke, only to emerge a split second later on the other side. I watch him pause to cough before pushing himself forward and running up the hill in my direction.

I let out a small whimper and then take off again.

I can’t make sense of anything that’s happening. My speed. My dexterity.

None of this is normal. Amnesia or not, this I know.

I reach a large open field. Through the blackness I can see a structure at the other end of it. If I can make it there, perhaps I can hide. For at least long enough to gather my thoughts.

I let my legs carry me as fast as they can go. The dark field passes by in a dizzying blur. I reach the building, which I can now see is an abandoned barn that looks partially burned down. I slip inside, ignoring the pungent odour of dead animals.

The ceiling is half gone. Only a few charred rafters remain. There are several broken, rusty metal contraptions scattered throughout the large, dank space. I walk slowly, finding my footing on the uneven ground as my eyes search for somewhere to conceal myself.

I hear a snap.

I freeze, holding my breath. I turn back towards the doorway but see nothing.

My adrenalin is pumping but I feel alarmingly calm. I just have to figure out my next move. I just have to—

A shadowy figure suddenly drops from the large gap in the destroyed ceiling. It falls to the ground and lands deftly on its feet. This man is also dressed entirely in black. Although he has the same large, burly build as the other, his skin is darker. Rough. Like the walls of this dilapidated barn. He doesn’t have an eerie scar oozing down his face but it doesn’t make him any less terrifying.