A Fork of Paths
Page 46
However, my threats were futile. These hunters were obviously highly trained and experienced in high-tension situations, and probably also well educated in psychology. She had already seen through me. She knew I was bluffing. Either that, or she didn’t care much whether or not I shot her colleague.
As the blonde approached within three feet of me, I did the only thing that I could think to do. I thrust Jocelyn forward with such strength that she lost her footing and collided into the hunter. The surprise and force of Jocelyn’s movement caused the two of them to go crashing to the floor.
I whirled around to face the exit and fired my gun at the lock that held the glass doors glued together. I figured that this was my best bet, because I was certain that the glass would be bulletproof. The force of the recoil sent shockwaves rippling up my arms. This weapon was powerful for one so small. Thankfully powerful. The lock gave way, and with one strong kick, I was able to force the doors open and thrust myself into the wintry world outside.
The cold hit me like an electric shock. My bare feet sinking into the snow, I wondered how many minutes I could last like this before I developed frostbite. I could not think about it now. I urged my aching limbs forward, faster than I’d ever thought that I could in such conditions. A deafening alarm sounded behind me. I shot a look back over my shoulder to see the receptionists piling out of the door after me, and now they had no doubt summoned God knew how many other hunters to join them in the chase.
It hit me only now that none of them had attempted to fire even a single bullet at me. Not even after I had pushed Jocelyn away from me and turned my back to face the glass doors. I had been fast, but these hunters weren’t exactly lacking in their reflexes. One of the hunters behind the desk could have at least attempted to hit me if she had wanted to. I could only conclude that I really was of value to them. They didn’t want to kill me, not even after what I had done to Jocelyn. They wanted only to recapture me.
This might have been my one advantage. I could run without the constant need to dodge bullets. Although, on second thoughts, they might attempt to hit me with some kind of sedative-tinged bullet to bring me down…
Still clutching Jocelyn’s gun in my hand, I darted into the midst of the parking lot, ducking beneath vehicles as I sped forward, trying to remain out of sight as much as I could.
I heard more shouting—the voices of men this time. More hunters had arrived already, but this time I didn’t look back. The sight of dozens of hunters piling out of the entrance would only increase my panic and inability to think clearly.
Heavy snowflakes started to fall, impairing my vision as I tried to make out the parking lot’s exit. It was difficult enough as it was because I had to keep ducking out of sight, fearful to remain exposed for more than a few seconds at a time.
And then I spotted it—a gate. While the rest of the massive parking lot was enclosed by a high and, by the looks of it, electrified fence, the gate looked like something one might see in a supermarket parking lot. It was more of a barrier than a gate. Something that wouldn’t be difficult for me to climb over. A surge of hopefulness running through me, I abandoned caution and hurtled toward the barrier for dear life.
I stopped dead in my tracks about ten feet away.
Three male hunters in ski jackets and heavy boots emerged from the small cubicle near the barrier. They had already been warned. They were expecting me.
I darted sideways, plunging beneath a large truck. Scrambling along its underbelly, I emerged on the other side of it, now forced to take a different direction. I gazed around at the high fence. It was humming with electricity, and its top was spiked with barbed wire. Even with my strength and speed, how would I ever escape over that without either being electrocuted to a crisp or mangled by the barbs?
Hunters’ footsteps trudged through the snow a short distance away. I kept moving, sliding beneath vehicles and winding in and out of the parking spaces until I reached the very edge of the enclosure. There was a large SUV parked right next to the fence. I crawled beneath it and paused to catch my breath.
But it had been a mistake to stop moving. No longer distracted by the swift movement of my limbs, I became fully aware of just how much trauma the freezing temperature was causing my body. As I crouched down in the snow, clad in icy wet pajamas and half submerged in snow, I had lost all feeling in my hands, feet and face. And I could feel the numbness spreading—up along my legs, and arms. My throat was tight, my chest restricted, and it was a struggle to even breathe. As I shivered, it was from the very core of me.
Can half-bloods die of hypothermia?
I can’t sit here and wait to find out.
I have to keep moving.
I have to keep moving.
My brain addled with panic, I barely even thought about what I was doing as I left my hiding place and staggered out into the open.
Gazing around the parking lot through the thickening snowfall, I expected dozens of hunters to spot me at once and begin racing in my direction.
Instead, every hunter I laid eyes on had their gaze fixed on the sky, an expression of shock on their face.
“How did it escape?” one of the hunters bellowed. It sounded like Mark.
Although these hunters certainly treated me like an object, based on where they were all looking, I was pretty sure that by it, he wasn’t referring to me.
An explosion of gunshots pierced the frigid atmosphere.
I craned my neck upward in the direction where they were staring and shooting toward to try to make out what exactly had caught their attention. So much so that they seemed to have temporarily forgotten about me.
As the blonde approached within three feet of me, I did the only thing that I could think to do. I thrust Jocelyn forward with such strength that she lost her footing and collided into the hunter. The surprise and force of Jocelyn’s movement caused the two of them to go crashing to the floor.
I whirled around to face the exit and fired my gun at the lock that held the glass doors glued together. I figured that this was my best bet, because I was certain that the glass would be bulletproof. The force of the recoil sent shockwaves rippling up my arms. This weapon was powerful for one so small. Thankfully powerful. The lock gave way, and with one strong kick, I was able to force the doors open and thrust myself into the wintry world outside.
The cold hit me like an electric shock. My bare feet sinking into the snow, I wondered how many minutes I could last like this before I developed frostbite. I could not think about it now. I urged my aching limbs forward, faster than I’d ever thought that I could in such conditions. A deafening alarm sounded behind me. I shot a look back over my shoulder to see the receptionists piling out of the door after me, and now they had no doubt summoned God knew how many other hunters to join them in the chase.
It hit me only now that none of them had attempted to fire even a single bullet at me. Not even after I had pushed Jocelyn away from me and turned my back to face the glass doors. I had been fast, but these hunters weren’t exactly lacking in their reflexes. One of the hunters behind the desk could have at least attempted to hit me if she had wanted to. I could only conclude that I really was of value to them. They didn’t want to kill me, not even after what I had done to Jocelyn. They wanted only to recapture me.
This might have been my one advantage. I could run without the constant need to dodge bullets. Although, on second thoughts, they might attempt to hit me with some kind of sedative-tinged bullet to bring me down…
Still clutching Jocelyn’s gun in my hand, I darted into the midst of the parking lot, ducking beneath vehicles as I sped forward, trying to remain out of sight as much as I could.
I heard more shouting—the voices of men this time. More hunters had arrived already, but this time I didn’t look back. The sight of dozens of hunters piling out of the entrance would only increase my panic and inability to think clearly.
Heavy snowflakes started to fall, impairing my vision as I tried to make out the parking lot’s exit. It was difficult enough as it was because I had to keep ducking out of sight, fearful to remain exposed for more than a few seconds at a time.
And then I spotted it—a gate. While the rest of the massive parking lot was enclosed by a high and, by the looks of it, electrified fence, the gate looked like something one might see in a supermarket parking lot. It was more of a barrier than a gate. Something that wouldn’t be difficult for me to climb over. A surge of hopefulness running through me, I abandoned caution and hurtled toward the barrier for dear life.
I stopped dead in my tracks about ten feet away.
Three male hunters in ski jackets and heavy boots emerged from the small cubicle near the barrier. They had already been warned. They were expecting me.
I darted sideways, plunging beneath a large truck. Scrambling along its underbelly, I emerged on the other side of it, now forced to take a different direction. I gazed around at the high fence. It was humming with electricity, and its top was spiked with barbed wire. Even with my strength and speed, how would I ever escape over that without either being electrocuted to a crisp or mangled by the barbs?
Hunters’ footsteps trudged through the snow a short distance away. I kept moving, sliding beneath vehicles and winding in and out of the parking spaces until I reached the very edge of the enclosure. There was a large SUV parked right next to the fence. I crawled beneath it and paused to catch my breath.
But it had been a mistake to stop moving. No longer distracted by the swift movement of my limbs, I became fully aware of just how much trauma the freezing temperature was causing my body. As I crouched down in the snow, clad in icy wet pajamas and half submerged in snow, I had lost all feeling in my hands, feet and face. And I could feel the numbness spreading—up along my legs, and arms. My throat was tight, my chest restricted, and it was a struggle to even breathe. As I shivered, it was from the very core of me.
Can half-bloods die of hypothermia?
I can’t sit here and wait to find out.
I have to keep moving.
I have to keep moving.
My brain addled with panic, I barely even thought about what I was doing as I left my hiding place and staggered out into the open.
Gazing around the parking lot through the thickening snowfall, I expected dozens of hunters to spot me at once and begin racing in my direction.
Instead, every hunter I laid eyes on had their gaze fixed on the sky, an expression of shock on their face.
“How did it escape?” one of the hunters bellowed. It sounded like Mark.
Although these hunters certainly treated me like an object, based on where they were all looking, I was pretty sure that by it, he wasn’t referring to me.
An explosion of gunshots pierced the frigid atmosphere.
I craned my neck upward in the direction where they were staring and shooting toward to try to make out what exactly had caught their attention. So much so that they seemed to have temporarily forgotten about me.
