Chapter 1: Jenna

A warm yellow sun shines over the forest path. Shadows dapple the swath of brown cutting through the green as birds sing in the trees overhead.

It’s entirely too nice of a day to be running for my life.

Not that I have much choice. Woodrow will give me anything I want ... except freedom. I can’t live under his booted heel another moment longer.

Ray shifted around on my back. His small arms are clinging to the straps of the backpack he is riding in. He’s a good kid. He knows to be quiet right now. I know he’s hungry, tired, and thirsty. So am I, but there’s no slowing down.

I’m glad for my long legs at a moment like this. Being over six feet tall is damned inconvenient when you live in an underground bunker. I like being out here, in the sun, rather than below ground with Woodrow.

I rushed up a steep incline and made it to the top of a hill. I know to keep low, so I ducked behind a patch of waist-high, waving grass. Panting as I catch my wind, I use my hands to part the fronds and peer down at the valley I had just fled through.

My heart sinks when I see the line of men moving along the same path I’ve been using. The sunlight glints off their long rifles. Woodrow’s never gotten his hands on the automatic variety, but the single-shot is deadly enough. They carry other weapons, I’m sure of it. Ammunition is precious, and they won’t waste it.

Besides, they want to take me alive. Or maybe they don’t. At this point, I’m not sure. It’s far from my first escape attempt. Woodrow has grown increasingly cruel and creative with his discouragements every other time he’s dragged me back.

It seems no matter how far I run, he always finds me. I’ve lived in three different human bunkers in the last year, and every single time, Woodrow has come and either bribed or threatened the leaders until I was released into his custody.

A human living alone on the surface is not going to last long. You need a tribe, and since humans aren’t an option, I’ve decided to go with orcs.

Crazy, crazy, crazy, I know, but I don’t have any choice. Especially now that I have Ray to take care of. I won’t let Ray grow up under Woodrow’s sphere of influence. He’ll turn him into one of those violent, misogynistic brutes that are even now trying to track me down.

Woodrow is showing more courage, or stubbornness, than I would have expected from him. These forest trails were not made by game, though I’ve seen plenty of deer using them. They were worn by the tread of booted orc feet, and we are getting closer to War God Clan territory.

I have heard the orcs of this tribe are offering shelter to trained and skilled humans. Thanks to Woodrow not letting me learn anything, I don’t have many skills to offer other than domestic work. That, and I’ve always been a natural athlete.

But I’m carrying the dead weight of a three-year-old child, and my head start has evaporated quicker than the sweat from my body. I have to get moving again. If I can make it to a War God settlement, maybe they’ll protect me from Woodrow.

Ironic to seek protection from the very people who wiped out human society. But these are strange times. Something wickeder than orcs now roams the dark bowers of what used to be man’s domain. I’ve seen them from time to time. Fleeting shadows, silent and inscrutable as death. Only to blink and wonder if maybe I just saw a shadow after all ... but never knowing.

“Not much farther, Ray,” I say as I reach back and tousle his hair. I feel his fingers closing on mine. “Want some more water?”

“No.”

“All right. I’m going to start running again, okay? You’re being such a good boy, so brave.”

I took off once more. Ray is the child of my friend Stacy and her husband Dick. They went to the surface, looking for a life away from Woodrow. Supposedly, they were mauled by a bear. I’ve always wondered if Woodrow didn’t have them killed.

Regardless, I wound up taking care of Ray. I'm one hundred percent convinced that Woodrow placed him in my custody because he thinks I won’t run with a child. Another anchor to keep me in his bunker and under his control.

Ray is too sweet for words. Also, he was miserably traumatized and way too mature for his age. His mother was like that too. Always a little bit ahead of the curve, and probably for a lot of the same reasons.

I have to leave the trails. It’s making it too easy for them to follow me. I would try to cover my tracks if I had the time, but I don’t. I use a small creek to avoid leaving footprints, then scurry back into the woods once again. I’m trying to head more or less toward the nearest clan outpost. I might get lost, but if I get caught, then all of this will be for naught.

The bruises on my body remind me of what’s going to happen if I am caught. Especially this soon. Woodrow hasn’t had time to calm down since the last time I escaped.

The sun is sinking below the horizon, making it difficult to navigate the forest. I did the best I could. Shortly after sundown, I stop for a brief respite, feeding myself and Woodrow bits of hard, dry biscuit washed down with tin-flavored warm water. It’s the best I can do.

I took off again, careful of the night predators. After the collapse of human civilization, the animals in wildlife sanctuaries and zoos were left to roam the countryside. I’m told that North America, what this place used to be called, is not where tigers are originally from. Yet, they prowl these woods. I’ve seen their claw marks and smelled their trail.

There are other threats too. Venomous snakes. Bears. Wolves, though I’ve never heard a tale of them actually attacking a human or an orc unless they were starving. I guess we taste bad.

The thought is so darkly humorous that I want to laugh. I very nearly do. But then, I hear the snap of branches behind me.

“She went this way! I found her bracelet!”

My bracelet? I checked my wrist, and the simple string bracelet Stacy had given me when we were younger was no longer there. I felt a deep throb of dread. Not only was that the only thing I had to remember Stacy by ... other than Ray ... but it was a big, fat clue as to the fact I’d been through here.

I looked up and saw something that brought hope to my heart. A light is burning in the night in the woods up ahead. A hunter’s lodge or cabin? It’s my only shot.

“Jenna!”

My blood runs cold at the sound of Woodrow’s voice. I can feel the aggression and rage behind it.

“Jenna, you cunt! I’m coming for you, you hear me? I’m gonna kill that snot-nose brat right in front of you.”

He’s so close now, maybe less than twenty yards from my current position. There’s nothing I can do to save myself. But maybe, just maybe, Ray has a shot.

I took off my backpack and set both it and Ray onto the rocky ground. I peered over my shoulder at the sound of pursuit and tried to keep my voice level.

“Ray, you see that light?”

I point toward it. He follows my finger and nods.

“I want you to run there as fast as you can and wait for me. I’ll be with you in just a minute, okay?”

My voice breaks, and tears well in the corners of my eyes. I’m lying, and it breaks my heart. I’m lying, and Ray knows it. Damn it, kid, do you have to be so smart?

“Go!” I give him a little shove toward the light as the first of Woodrow’s men breaks into the clearing. It’s Anderson, five feet tall, two hundred pounds of dynamite. The head of Woodrow’s security forces and the martial arts instructor.

I tried to fend him off, but Anderson reached out and grabbed a handful of my hair, forcing me to bend over. He snaked his arm around my neck and pulled me back. It’s a naked strangle, a type of choke hold he taught to the other men.

And, inadvertently, to me. When we were younger, Stacy and I used to work in the dojo, bringing them water and towels and then cleaning up after the men were finished practicing. We watched what they did, and then, when they left us to clean up their mess, we practiced on each other.

I know that if I keep my chin tucked, he can’t cut off the flow of blood to my brain, which is what this hold is supposed to do. It’s only a temporary measure, though. I can already feel him trying to worm his way under.

“Run, Ray!” I scream.

Ray finally runs toward the light, and relief floods through me. For all of a second until the second man bursts into the clearing. He spies Ray running and goes right toward him.

“No!”

I stick my arm out in front of me, parallel with my shoulder. Then I bring it straight back as hard and fast as I can. The point of my elbow strikes Anderson’s ribcage, and I hear the air rush out of him. I slipped out of his now limp grasp and ran toward the other man. With a grunt, I left my feet and slammed my shoulder into the back of his knees. We both go down, and I desperately hold onto his legs so he can’t chase after Ray.

I smiled through my tears as he disappeared into the woods.

“Goodbye, Ray. Be a good boy ...”

I saw a flash of movement above me. I looked up just in time to see Anderson’s closed fist right before it hit.