There wasn't a whole lot that Olive Carraway wanted in the world. She wanted to start her own construction contracting company. She wanted her parents to let her change her name, because what kind of name was Olive? She wanted a nice used gas efficient Hyundai. And she wanted her ex boyfriend to burn in hell. But that was it really.

And she had been a good person all her life, except for the part where she wanted her slimy ex boyfriend to suffer for all eternity, but she only wanted that for the greater good of women everywhere. It wasn't a selfish type of revenge she wished she could inflict on him.

And maybe she should just accept that her name was Olive at this point. Twenty-six was a time when you should be done learning to love yourself, wasn't it? That's what her mother told her once.

But she could have been named Peach Pit and been better off. What kind of name was Olive? Why not Gooseberry?

And anyway, after twenty-six years of being a nice boring person who followed the law and kept her thoughts about her name to herself and always letting her friends go after the guy even if she saw him first, this is what the universe gave back to her? She was going to die here, in the dirt, lost in a dense dark wood surrounded by stinking drunk louts who were dressed like some rotting version of the Robin Hood's Merry Men?

Well that was just un-fucking-fair.

She had spent the last ten minutes pressed up against a tree, only able to see because they had started a fire nearby. She had a hefty rock in each hand and she kicked at anyone who came near her.

A couple times sometime tried to sneak around the tree and grab at her, but she had managed to flail her arms about just quickly enough to hit one man in the face with a rock and another man in the neck.

But ten minutes had been an eternity and she was getting tired. They sent in new men from around the fire and eventually she was pinned down, only managing to kick a few balls in the process.

She wasn't sure how she had gotten here, in the middle of the night, barefoot and in the damp cold in her pajamas, but here she was. She wasn't sure if anyone was close enough to come save her, but god dammit, she wasn't going down without a fight.

She had frozen up earlier, too scatterbrained and afraid to scream, but here it was now, blood curdling and hysterical. Someone pressed his grimy hand over her mouth and she jerked back just enough to get her teeth around his pinky finger.

He yelped at first, and then he roared when he realized she wasn't letting go. This finger was coming off, if she had any say about it, handsy motherfucker.

She growled and shouted as loud as she could between her teeth, biting down even harder on the man's hand, tasting blood with vengeful satisfaction.

Someone grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her head up, something cold pressed against her throat.

"That's enough," spat a voice.

Shit, a knife? No one was trying to shoot her, but they'd slit her throat? What the hell was going on?

She released the man's finger from between her teeth, mouth full of his blood. She turned her head and spat in the face of the owner of the dagger.

Something shimmered out of the corner of her eye, reflecting the firelight and she stiffened beneath the two pairs of hands pinning her onto her back. Another knife? Were they finally tired of her? Holding her down so another could silence for her good?

Well she much preferred that to what the alternative seemed to be.

She closed her eyes, bracing herself.

"Release her," commanded a quiet voice, brusque and threatening.

She opened one eye. Wait, what?

"Who the hell are-"

Suddenly she was free. She scrambled to her feet, trying to tune out the gurgling that cut off her captors words.

She was not jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Fuck. That. Shit.

She didn't know where she was, but she was out, darting through the trees until she found a branch low enough to pull herself up onto, climbing as high as the tree could take her, breath burning in her lungs.

If she could get to the canopy, she'd be able to see city lights and then she'd know which way to-

She went still, rising through the branches and overlooking the horizon. Nothing. Only the dense darkness of the forest stretching on for miles beneath the brightest stars she had ever seen.

She turned, looking in circles, panic swelling in her chest. This didn't make any sense. Arizona didn't have trees like this. How did she get so far out of Phoenix that she couldn't even see the lights in the distance?