Tuning my senses to the soft and compact footsteps coming in my direction. They were controlled, masking any sense of urgency or underlining emotions and they were light, making it hard to guess whether it was a man or a woman. Either way, they were trying hard to approach unnoticed. By instinct, I considered my escape routes as defensive magic coursed through my body. No one had spoken. Undoubtedly, they either couldn’t or they were trying to keep me unnerved as they moved into place for a surprise attack. There were a few possibilities, but I had no idea what I might be in for.I steadied myself, to restrain my uncertainty. I forced my ears to search for any recognizable clues. I didn't multiple sounds in quick secession, so there weren't several people close bye. If they were professional, that meant trap, and a bag of tricks. If they were rookies, anything was possible.

Buyer bodyguards?

No, any bodyguard or buyer security would have jumped me and hauled me off to who knows where to be questioned by their superiors. And the leas thief came off as something of a chauvinist so he would have made some snarky comment about my hips or butt, a real smooth talker before exerting his domination and demanding I give the dragon back. Only one thing would stop either situation from chasing down the payday.

SNAP. Another twig caught my attention, the snap a lot closer and sharper. The ground was still damp, so it had to have come from a tree. Possibly as a weapon? I glanced down at my chest and groaned. My sides ached, and my calves were screaming in pain. I hadn’t planned on the weather, or the amount of running I’d have to do. The universe really does make you work for it. I thought as I mouthed a short count down, steadily my instincts as my pursuer drew closer.

Blasted I knew I should have worn my sports bra.

The footsteps stopped, and I heard a low throaty growl.

“Not good!”

Leaping over the closest headstone, I twisted at the hip and fired wildly behind me as I fell. Shifting my weight at angle I came up in a roll, upright on my knees and armed. Like a whip I snapped my second gun into position. As a figure rose from the ground, he shook his head in disorientation, but that was short lived. I know is not exactly reasonable to hold two guns, contrary to movie action heroes. However, when you're up against a six foot savage muscle caveman, complete with tattered clothes, scars a wild beard and horrible body odor. Reasonable actions don't really matter, against the unreasonable.

“Warren, I’ve got a Scavenger!”

“I’ve got three,” Warren replied, his voice meshed around several shots. “nothing like ending the day staring down a cannibalistic human rage monster”.

“No kidding,” I replied, scavengers were once human, who mysteriously had reverted to primitive roots. No one could reason with or try and speak to them. They responded like rabid predators out for blood. Everyone knew in moments like this, you run, and hope for survival.

Kicking backwards, I cautiously moved to put some distance between us. Carefully, a few steps every few seconds. The scavenger snarled and flashed his teeth, he drew closer, but kept his distance. It was a common attitude of a predator, to survey their prey. His hesitation didn’t last long, as he closed the distance, under the eerie glow of the Green I could see his lips twitched, drool drop from his teeth and his yellow eyes bulged, devoid of human rationale and emotions.

“I’m really not in the mood, Scavenger,” I tried forcibly, “Go or I’ll put a bullet in your brain.”

The scavenger ignored the threat and swiped at the air, his fingers curled like claws. With each step he took, I took two going a bit faster each time. From the corner of my eye I watched for the main gate. I hesitated, but paid carefully attention. I had to judge my shots carefully because scavengers never did anything solo. One would challenge an enemy, while the rest waited for a chance to strike. Keeping my breathing steady, I pushed the threat thoughts away. Careful to keep my steps even, the scavenger eyed me curiously before moving several steps to my right in a circular pattern. He wasn't sure what to think of me. Changing my angle, my hip bumped against a pillar shaped headstone. The impact zapped my muscles throughout my body. My legs buckling beneath me, I hissed and dove to the ground as the scavenger screamed and charged towards me. Rebounding to my feet, I pushed through the pain and the daze while sprinting to the main gate.

“Cris!” Rene started.

Adrenaline burned in my body, “Not now!”

With the scavengers on my heels, I whipped around and fired, my boots skidding through the gravel, as sparks flew from my gun’s barrel. One shot caught the scavenger in the shoulder, and he fell allowing the second to fly while. Once clear of the gate. I pushed through the aches and discomfort. Quickly I holstered my guns; then I grabbed a large pile of grass and tossed it aside, revealing my bike, a motorcycle, old and beat up, but still a powerhouse.

“Bye” I said a bit flirtatiously, hammering down on the gas and accelerating onto the road. As I picked up speed, the countryside turned into an emerald blur. An artistic spectacle, but a death trap full of bone splitting cracks, potholes and an array of fresh and decaying animal corpses.

That was to close, we'd hadn't planned on scavengers being attracted to the commotion so fast. Despite the set backs and a rough night. I smiled and leaned with the road. The job was done, and we survived, again. I embraced the hum of the engine and relaxed to its purring tingle. Fear normally makes people to watch their backs.

Personally, I think it’s better to focus on escaping.

“HELP ME!” a faint voice screamed as the road leveled off, old buildings, broken sidewalks and lampposts littered the ground. With my community border coming into view.

“Rene, Warren?” my thoughts running wild as a shadow stumbled into the road. Panicked and my muscles flaring. I hammered down on the brakes, locking the front wheel and causing the back wheel to move back and forth, like I was driving on ice. Releasing the brake I attempted to slow but before I could regain control, the front wheel tipped into a pothole, sending me flying several feet in the air. Closing my eyes and grabbing my head with my arms. I rolled, colliding with rocks and getting the wind knocked out of me. I tried to scream but couldn’t as pain seized every inch of my body. As I came to a stop. My vision blurred and each breath was one step short of satisfying; while my ears rang with a high-pitched squeal. I felt the acceleration of my bike pressed against my legs. The green sky spun above me, and as it slowed, I started to feel like myself again.

“Ah gross.” blood covered my tongue and I felt something warm between my fingers.

The Green clouds swirled and spun occasionally revealing a patch of twinkling stars. Who had that been? It hadn’t sounded like Rene or Warren. Had we run into some kind of trouble? What had appeared in the road? An animal, a scavenger? Slowly, I inched myself to my knees, then after a few minutes, to my feet

“Rene, Warren is everything alright?” but no reply came.

Limping to my bike a few feet behind me on the road. The front wheel sat wedged in the pothole, the handlebars arched at an angle, seeing that lifted my hopes, there was no room in my mood for a damaged bike. Removing my bike out of the hole and popping the kickstand, I sniffed the air, but caught no trace of oil or gasoline. Taking a knee by the tires, I leaned in close and listened. No ominous hiss of escaping air and pressing down on the told me both tires were still intact, and running my hand along the rim, I felt for any dents or abnormal shifts that otherwise would impede the wheel, thankfully there weren’t any I noticed.

“Hallelujah,” The last thing I wanted to do was walk or leave my bike to nights mercy. With no small amount of effort, I straddled the seat and Tapped the light’s outer case, the bulb flickered. Then with a click it sparked to life, illuminating a large brown lump in the middle of road, a lump that suspiciously looked like a body.

My heart froze. With a gun in hand I limped in his direction and cleared the area. the body, a man with snowy white hair in a brown suit, moaned and rolled over. He was older, and far past his prime. I knelt down careful to avoid any cracked or uneven areas. He stirred and made a few subtle movements, but it was apparent he had taken quite a beating.

Taking a chance, I gently poked his shoulder but kept my eyes on my motorcycle, “Mister,”

If he had tried to speak, I missed it as a high pitched snarl rained on my ears. In a flash, I bolted to my feet as on the edge of my bike’s light a woman came into view. Matted hair stuck out at odd angles, a few strands dangling in front of her face, that appeared glued in snarl. Her cheeks covered in an odd mix of grit and soot and what smelled like excrement. My chest heaved at the stench, she was worse then the man. While ignoring my motorcycle, she shuffled on the edge of the light, hissing and spitting to either dare me to attack or to drive me away.

Not wasting a second, I took aim and fired as she lowered into a crouch. Gun powder cut through the putrid odor. The shot caught her in the shoulder, and the impact pushed her backwards. Yet, in a fit of strength she returned to her feet blood trailing down her bikini top. She howled and flashed her teeth. I rushed exchange ammo clips. Her cries would draw more scavengers in this direction, I had minutes, if I were lucky. With one hand clasping her shoulder, hissing wildly, the scavenger stumbled to her feet, glaring at me before retreating into the darkness.

I jammed the new clip into the stock and locked a bullet into the chamber just as her wailing cries doubled back. With surprising agility, the bikini banshee leapt at me, her mouth open and arms failing wildly. Without missing a beat, I raise my gun, purple energy swirling around the barrel. I glared at the scavenger.

Stars above, I was so done with tonight. I gripped my gun and focused all the anger and stress I dealt with earlier in the evening.

“Night!” I said, offensive magic, with enough negative emotion would kill.

The scavenger landed in a clump at my feet, blood pooling around her abdomen. Ignoring the smell, I quickly shifted my attention towards the man. I had to get out of here before more showed up, but I couldn’t leave him here if I could help it.

“Mister, can you move?”

He groaned as I shook his shoulder, but he didn’t say anything.

“Mister, can you hear me?”

No response. He lay in a heap clutching the book to his chest, his eyes were closed, and a gash bled freely on his forehead. Normally I felt like I had a pretty strong stomach for the grotesque and gory, tonight had proven quite a challenge against my ability.

“AHAHAHAH” he screamed, coughing and lunging forward desperate for air. In his haste, he doubled over pushing the book in my chest. The pages wrestled and crinkled as it flopped into my hands. The leather cover felt cool to the touch, and the wrinkled and aged papers were tied together with a single piece of heavy string.

“Please take this to Crimson Capet!” he wheezed, “He told me she needs this book. She is the only one who will know what it means and what to do with the information.”

“What?” goosebumps and surprise flooded my body, freezing my emotions and all rational action. He had just said my name, my full name. Only a few people knew it, and in community circles most just called me Cris, I preferred it that way. I fumbled with the book and then looked at the man who had turned to the side and placed a hand to his head, his breathing was heavy, and every move brought a considerable amount of pain to his bearing.

“You needed to bring this to me?” I demanded my thoughts and emotions running wild. Moving towards the light of my bike, the pages fluttered in my hands. Once opened, however my throat tightened, and tears billowed in my eyes.

My hands shook, my lips trembled, and my eyes bulged. “The handwriting. The pictures, how is this possible?”
The entries dated back several years, I recognized the anatomical pictures, and charts. I could hear him muttering while his pen scratched across the aged paper. Hurriedly I flipped to the cover page. There in a fancy cursive were the words: Nicholas Capet, Medical Journal. Closing the book, I rushed back to the man’s side, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him towards me. “How do you know my dad? Did he give this book to you? Where is he?”

“Find Crimson Capet,” he wheezed, “he told me everything she needs to know is in there.”

His voice became faint and slurred, several words vanishing as he repeated my name and his message in an incoherent daze. Gently I leaned him on his back, and he gazed deeply into the sky, his lips moved, but no sound came out.

“Sir who gave this to you?” I screamed, beating my hand against the road. My entire body felt jittery and tears flowed freely down my cheeks. His body twitched, but I knew he was gone. Taking the book, I leaned against his shoulder, “Thank you for bringing the book to me. Thank you, thank you.”

I didn't know him, but the truth was clear. He had my dad's journal and somehow he'd ended up in the forest, and someone wanted him to die in the most horrid way possible. The scavengers didn't under mercy and they killed him. They had killed my first and only clue to figure out the truth about my dad.

“Scavengers you killed the wrong person tonight. Don’t get in my way.” I said to the darkness, firing several warning shots in the air.

Stashing the book in my motorcycle’s bag i stared at the old man, “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have died like this. I promise you this won’t go unanswered.”

On the edge of my bike’s light several scavengers hissed and snarled, but they did not come any closer. I revved the engine and kicked dirt into the air as I sped off towards my home.