In the deep dark forest, a dark figure flitted about in the shadows. It appeared that this lone person did not want to be noticed. Nothing stirred while the figure moved across an open glade with incredible stealth. The forest was oddly silent, too silent, even for the quiet figure moving about in the trees. Then he stopped and listened, the slight breeze that had been rustling the leaves had stopped suddenly. Quickly, he pulled something out of his jet black suit. It glinted brightly, even in the darkness of the forest. He poised himself like a snake ready to strike its victim. With cat-like reflexes, he leapt from behind a tree and struck out at his unseen attacker. Nothing. It was just his imagination.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he ran through the forest, dodging trees and leaping over the thick underbrush. He knew he was being followed, but by whom? He did not know and did not care to ask. He just kept on running. Yet for how long could he evade its grasp. In his athletic condition, maybe a week or two, but he had to stop sometime.
It was getting quite dark in the forest. He stopped and leaned against a tree, panting wildly. He looked around for a shelter that could be easily hidden. After searching for at least an hour, groping in the failing light, he found one. His choice was a gully buried under thick bushes and a fallen log.
As he lay in his hide-out, he fingered his dagger, which gave off a dull shine in the barely perceptible moonlight that filtered through the foliage above. Thinking about the events of the past few days and how he came to be in this situation, he fell into a light sleep.
He awoke around midnight to the sound of a twig cracking. He froze, straining his ears for any other sounds. There was just silence. Whomever or whatever made the sound had become quiet once again. Sleep regained him and he slept an uneasy sleep.
That morning, hunger awoke him. He had not eaten for days and needless to say, he was ravenous. While crawling out of his makeshift bed, he noticed that the sounds of the forest had returned. He listened cheerfully to the chatter of squirrels and the shrill music of birds. But his happiness was short-lived, for a large bootprint was imprinted in the soft ground near his campsite. It was closer than he had first begun to believe. Dread crept into his bones. He quickly hid all traces of his passing. Then in a blink of an eye, he was silently running off into the forest.
He had been running for three hours straight, when he halted. He had to. His breathing was ragged and coming in harsh gasps. He looked back, but no one was following him. He smiled as the thought of freedom. Then his face grew grim once again. He knew he was not free, not just yet. One encouraging fact was that the forest was still full of noises and the sun was bright, high above the trees. He knew he could be easily spotted in the daylight, but so could whomever was following him. He felt lost, but his instincts said he was heading south.
The sun was high in the sky when he decided to rest. He was just sitting down to some berries on a nearby bush when he heard a sound. He spun around and saw something move behind a tree close by. He stood motionless, concentrating on the tree. No movement could be detected. He crept closer to the tree. Still no evidence of movement. He began to think that he had imagined it all when a slight creak came from behind the tree. Determined to find out what it was, he ever so slowly inched his way toward the tree. He was about a foot away when a chain lashed out from behind the tree and caught him around his wrist. The force of the attack knocked him down. Quickly, he pulled his knife out of his suit and began to stand up. As he was doing this, a large figure stepped out from behind the tree and kicked the knife out of his hand. His eyes met those of his attacker. Black Bear, the name shouted itself in his mind.
"We meet again, Jamin." Black Bear said.
"You remember me, Black Bear." Jamin replied.
Black Bear chuckled evilly. Then he said, "Yes, but how could I forget you. You're worth a fortune these days, you know. Five city-states want you."
"Five," Jamin remarked sarcastically, "I must protest my innocence."
"I'm sure you would," Black Bear scoffed. "Now, no more talk!" He walked over to Jamin and grabbed him.
Jamin asked, "This chain is much too tight. Could you please loosen it a bit?" His eyes gleamed cunningly.
Black Bear pulled Jamin up to him by the front of his collar. He sneered at Jamin. "Listen, I'm not gonna loosen nothing." He threw Jamin against a tree.
Jamin slumped down on his side. He pushed himself up with his free hand. "Who are you going to turn me into?" he asked, slowly reaching into his jacket.
"I'll probably take you to the capital and hand you over to the king himself." Black Bear eyed Jamin with suspicion. He walked up to Jamin and grabbed his hands. "I don't want none of your funny tricks!" he growled.
Jamin protested his innocence.
"Liar!" accused Black Bear. He then proceeded to wind the chain around both of Jamin's wrists. "Now, this will keep you out of trouble."
Jamin frowned and swung his bound hands up into Black Bear's face. The force of the hit knocked Black Bear backwards. Black Bear shouted, "Why you dirty little rat!" He clambered up onto his feet.
Jamin jumped up and kicked Black Bear in his face. He then swung his fists into Black Bear's ribs, throwing him into a tree.
Black Bear looked up dazed.
Jamin took the opportunity to slam his fists into his nose. Black Bear slumped to the ground, shuddered and went still. Jamin stepped back. He sighed. Then turning his attention to the chain around his wrists, he sat down against a tree. He twisted his wrists and tugged at the chain. The chain seemed only to tighten with his workings to be free. His mind raced for a solution to his predicament. He winced at the now-stinging pain from his wrists. The chains had rubber then raw and bloody. He leaned against the tree. It seemed hopeless. Yet there was something familiar about the situation he was in. He thought deeply, then smiled.
"Of course," Jamin mumbled to himself.
Jamin was sweating heavily as he worked his wrists out of the chain. He was using an ancient technique that he had learned when he was a boy. It was a slow and patient process.
Dusk was approaching. With the fading light, Jamin began to work quickly. He released one hand. Unraveling the chain, he freed his other hand. His wrists were bruised and bloody and stung in the night air.
After a short rest, Jamin stood up and looked around. Crickets screeched their monotonous chirp and night birds fluttered through the trees. He began to search for dry wood to build a fire. Fortunately, dry twigs and sticks lay everywhere in plentiful amounts. After piling the wood in a clear area, Jamin rummaged through his dead captor's belongings in search of food and kindle. Finding both, he started a fire and roasted the little meat he had found. After satisfying his initial hunger, Jamin laid back and gazed up into the trees. A few stars in the night twinkled through the trees. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.
Jamin slept uneasily, tormented by nightmares from his past. Wisps of white smoke began to swirl around him. They flowed through the air, shifting from formless shapes into human forms. One cloud became an old man with one arm. Another shaped itself into a woman, but without a head. Other clouds of mist swirled into the forms of grotesque soldiers. The air was filled with these apparitions. They began to circle Jamin's sleeping form, chanting his name in low moans. They moved closer to him.
Jamin tossed around on the ground. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open. He sat up and screamed. Then looking around, Jamin saw only the dark forest and the glowing embers of a dying fire. Sweat soaked his body and his breathing was ragged.
"It was a dream, only a dream," he whispered. Jamin laughed to reassured himself. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve.
A wolf howled nearby. Jamin jumped, startled at the sound. He picked up a stick and flipped it into the charred pile of glowing ash. He wanted to go back to sleep, but he was afraid of having the dream again. It haunted him like a ghost. It was horrifying to relive the death of friends night after night. Jamin felt a tear slide down his cheek. His thoughts wandered. He no longer was aware of his surroundings. His mind and heart were in the past, remembering that which he had lost.
Morning shown brightly through the trees. Jamin awoke and squinted at the brilliance of the sun. He yawned. He had fallen asleep sitting up and was quite cramped. He stood up and stretched. The morning air was fresh and cool. Jamin breathed deeply and exhaled. This was the first morning of his freedom.
A raven landed on a branch above Jamin. It cawed noisily. Jamin looked over at the still figure of Black Bear and then up at the raven.
"Nevermore," Jamin cried. "You hear me, raven? Nevermore! I will never be chased by him again." He shouted jubilantly. Startled, the raven flew away.
Jamin walked over to where Black Bear lay. He bent over and rummaged through his pockets. He found a handful of gold coins, a leather badge marked 'Bounty Hunter,' and two walnuts. Jamin kept the coins and tossed the rest away. A short dagger was tied to Black Bear's belt which Jamin took also. Nothing else of worth was found. Jamin stood back up and pocketed his findings. Then, after retrieving his own knife which had been kicked under a bush, he began running off into the forest.
Hours passed quickly as Jamin ran past trees and bushes. His thoughts wandered back to the events of the last couple of days. Guilt became evident in his mind. He did not mean to kill him, he told himself; but the guilt was still there. His conscience scolded him and told him he should give himself over to the authorities. Jamin was deep in thought as he ran headlong into the underbrush of the forest.
A horrible shriek filled the air. Jamin jerked to a stop, pulled away from his contemplations. The ear-splitting sound again resounded through the trees. Then everything went silent. The shrieking had stopped, only to be replaced with a hollow drumbeat.
Jamin's face turned pale. He recognized the drumbeat. When he was a boy, that drumbeat was heard right before his hometown was destroyed. The barbarians played that beat when his family was killed. Anger welled up inside him. But reason held him in check. Jamin knew what they could do and he alone could not stop them. He would have to go to the capital and warn the king. However, by doing so would mean possible capture and death. Yet, he must if there was the chance to save other families from the fate his own family had faced. Without looking back, Jamin ran off toward the capital.
written by Ben Brick
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
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