Entry 1660:

Date: August 30, 2061

Hunger has consumed my days for the last week. My demand to be let go was anything but successful. There was a small part of me that expected Bellamy to respect my wishes. Saving her life changed something between us. A mutual trust had begun to bloom, and I tried to use that to my advantage. She’d been so open, so vulnerable up until those words.

“Let me go” 

It was like a light switch went off behind her eyes. I saw the tiny amount of softness in them vanish in an instant. Her body clenched from her spot on the cot. My eyes studied the way her fists clenched, and watched as she stood to loom over me with an expression of utter contempt. She was trying to intimidate me, and it worked. My knees nearly buckled from the weight of her glare. I suddenly felt the same blistering fear I’d felt during our first encounter. My breath came out in rasps as if her arm was pressed into my chest as it had then. But she wasn’t even touching me. 

I was tempted to jab a hand into her stitched-up abdomen, try to sink my long nails into it, and rip out the thread. But I let the thought float away since even if my plan succeeded and she bled out before bashing my skull open, I’d still be stuck here with her corpse. That predicament was becoming a recurring theme in my escape plans. 

Besides, her gaze was near paralyzing. I’m not sure I could have forced my body to move if I’d tried. Alas, she didn’t give me the chance to try before she wrapped her fingers around my throat and slammed me into the concrete wall of our room. My head bounced on impact, and I felt the nausea of a concussion consume me before I could even crumble to the floor. The ground was freezing under my skin when I finally met the floor. My hazy eyes watched the woman, and I felt a weird need to reach out to her. She looked more hurt than I felt. Her expression was hard to make out through the strands of thick, long, wet hair that crowded her face. But I could have sworn it was twisted with what looked like concern for me. She swore loudly and looked down at her hands in frustration. “Bell…my” I was barely able to get the name out before my eyes slid into the back of my skull. The overwhelming need to spill my guts out settled as everything around me faded to a comfortable nothingness. 

I woke all at once, adrenaline wracked through me in an effort that sent me up to my feet in seconds. The sudden motion caused my head to reel backward. I nearly puked from the stars that danced around in my eyes. 

Only when my vision came back to me did I notice my surroundings. I was no longer in the concrete box I’d shared with Bellamy. The night breeze brushed against my cheeks from the open wall before me. The three walls and the completely crumbled forth of this room were still solid concrete, but it was much larger. The room was absolutely filled with plants. Not the insistent greenery of the forest that seemed impossible to tame; these were potted plants: flowers and herbs, and medicines. 

Maybe it was the concussion, but I couldn’t help it as my legs slowly sank back to the floor, and my eyes just stared out at the world beyond. It felt intrinsically calm. A moth the size of my head fluttered around a foot in front of me and tried to bury itself in the industrial lighting illuminating the room. Its wings the color of glittering sand. Never in the months I’ve been surviving in this forest had I seen it look so…serene. 

I gave myself about ten minutes to soak in the peaceful atmosphere. To drown in my fuzzy brain and breathe in the intoxicating scent of flowers. Then I stood up, grabbed my worn backpack that had been placed beside me, and I ran. 

I’m not sure whose ingenious idea it was to leave me unattended in an open room, but I wasn’t going to waste what would probably be my only chance to escape. 

I ran until my feet couldn’t carry me any farther. Until I was forced to keel over and empty out my stomach after hours of my head begging me to do so. It had taken every ounce of willpower I had left to hoist myself into a tall oak tree to sleep that night.

Since then, I’ve just been running. Suddenly, my reality has melted back to my norm. Days spent running through the forest trying to use the ache in my thighs to drown out the ache in my empty belly. But this pain was familiar, comforting in a way. It had been my reality for so long that I sank back into it effortlessly. I found the same burgundy dagger Bellamy had been sharpening in my bag on the second day. I’ve never seen anything like it. The red metal and cherry oak hilt are breathtaking. I don’t have the mental capacity to figure out why Bellamy would have put it there. So I’ve chosen not to think about it and simply spent my days trying to learn to use it. 

When I’m not jogging through the thick foliage, I’m throwing the dagger at the nearest tree. My wrist flicks it out in a motion that I use to will the blade into the tree. Yet, not once have I successfully gotten it to stick. Each time it clatters to the mud in a pathetic reminder of why I’m going to starve to death if I don’t find food soon. Hunting has never been my forte, but I’ve kept the meat on my bones through the art of fishing with colorful handmade traps. Before I made my way into Exposed territory, rivers and small lakes were abundant. But here, I haven’t come across a single body of water since I ran 8 days ago. I’ve stayed hydrated through the heavy rains that plague this district of the forest and have been partially fed by knowing which plants are edible. 

It seems the only benefit of being in Exposed territory is the decrease in mutants. Based on the meals they tried to feed me, I’m more than aware of their willingness to hunt and eat the grotesque monsters, not to mention their physical ability to do so. 

Today is the first day I’ve felt a hint of hope that I might never see the Exposed woman again. The tree I chose to sleep in tonight is tall, tall enough to tower over most and for me to spy a campfire a few miles out. The blurry figures of Moles move around it. If I can make it there tomorrow, I can put this nightmare behind me. I can adapt into their camp and finally, finally get on with my plans. To watch the life drain from the eyes of the man who led my bunker. Who took everything from me. Who left me utterly alone in this world before he ran like a coward. And now, I’ve been given a blade to do it with.