The Last Dose Of Reality - Part 3
Silence fell over the trees. I could see the men moving in the distance ahead of me but no sound reached my ears. The canopy overhead cast an eerie light over the setting. I shouldn’t be following them. I should be running in the opposite direction. These men want to kill me and I have no idea why. The sane thing would be to get away from them.
But no, instead, I trace their footsteps. An onlooker could have easily mistaken the scene for a hunter stalking its’ prey. How wrong they would have been.
A branch snapped under my feet. Shit, I thought. I had to start paying more attention. I hastily glanced at the men in the distance. Luckily, they hadn’t heard the noise; I was downwind of them, safe in the fact the wind carried my sounds away from their ears. Despite this, I still wasn’t close enough to hear their conversation. As dangerous as it may be, I had to get closer. The only reason I was following them was to pick up an explanation of why I still wasn’t dead.
I hurried onwards, carefully picking a path among the blanket of branches and leaves covering the ground.
“... if we don’t find him?” The voice made me jump. It came out of nowhere. A slight breeze had picked up, carrying the last half of a question to me. I associated it with the first voice, he sounded unsure of himself. Was this possibly his first time out on such a task? It sure sounded like it.
“That isn’t an option, they usually give us about 72 hours from when we first get on the ground to find and eliminate the risk. I’ve only ever missed the deadline once, and trust me, it ain’t a pretty sight for anyone.” The second voice dripped in arrogance. He clearly enjoyed being the experienced member of the pair.
“We should have a better idea where he is when we find his car. We can’t be that far away, Intel said they didn’t see him on the next set of cameras. Who knows? The idiot may still be sat there waiting for the disease to strike him down!” A single cynical laugh accompanied this statement.
The breeze died as quickly as it had arrived, returning my world to silence. If they continued talking I couldn’t hear anymore. Besides, I was beginning to recognise the landscape now, we really weren’t very far away from my car. I stopped for a moment, the route the two men were taking was going to lead them slowly round to the far side of the clearing in which I’d parked. On a whim, I decided to take a shorter, steeper route; if I could get there first I might be able to pick a safe spot from which to observe.
My path was arduous, littered with stones and thorns. By the time I got to the clearing I was breathing heavily, my arms covered in tiny scratches. But I was here first and that’s all that mattered. I estimated I had around 5 minutes to find somewhere. I needed to be downwind of the two when they emerged, it was my only chance of hearing any of their discussions. I found a tree which was ideal, assuming their route brought them to the side of the clearing I was expecting that it would. Thankfully, it was a fairly easy climb. The branches were thick and evenly placed. I ascended to a cluster of leaves that I could use for cover and settled in to wait.
It wasn’t long until the two men appeared. At first I didn’t see them. They were a little north of where I thought they would come, but nevertheless still upwind of my position. I saw them pause as they entered the clearing. This was my first glimpse of the faces of the two men who were hunting me. It was immediately obvious which voice belonged to which man. The man on the left was much younger, he stood about a foot taller and significantly wider than the other man, but he didn’t wear his stature with confidence. Even from this distance I thought I could see he hands tremble, clearly afraid of what he might find in the car. A crop of blond hair sat upon his head, gleaming in the sunlight, giving him an almost boyish look. To him I attributed the first voice.
Even if the first man hadn’t obviously been the owner of the more timid voice, it was clear the second man was the more experienced of the two. Arrogance and confidence dropped from his very being. He was shorter than the other man, standing at what I judged to be just below average height. He was built with the kind of sturdiness that comes from a life of fast living; not lean and muscular, but the kind of hard muscle that never gives way to fat. The only word I could use to describe him was powerful. He motioned for the younger man to stop, suddenly he was all business. The cynical laughter had disappeared from his face. To my horror, he drew a handgun from a holster within his jacket and began to approach the car in a crouch.
I knew they were here to kill me, but until I saw the gun I hadn’t comprehended what that meant. The grey metal flashed under the sun like the Grim Reaper’s scythe, sending my heart into overload. The man was halfway to the car now, both hands gripping the gun expertly. I knew he wouldn’t find anything in the car, and yet, my fear grew with each step he took towards the door.
When he was about 10 feet away, the man circled round to the boot of the car, still in a crouch. When he got within touching distance of the car he slowly rose from the crouch, gun trained on the rear window. He slowly moved round to the doors, checking the seats, weapon still at the ready. Seeing there was no-one in the car, he tried the door. It was locked. Knowing what was about to come, a sudden urge to unlock the doors came over me; I loved my Camaro. I resisted the urge and watched as the man, gripping the pistol by the barrel, brought the butt down on the driver’s window.
The glass shattered inwards. Covering the interior with the remnants of my window. Reaching in, the man quickly popped the boot and within seconds had circled back around, gun back in his hands, finger hovering over the trigger. He was well trained. The whole process, from entering the clearing to checking the car, had lasted a little over 10 seconds, although it had felt like hours.
The man looked up, gave his partner the all clear and waved him over. When the two were together, the older man reached into his jacket and pulled out a mobile phone.
He dialled a number and waited patiently for a response.
“Sir, we have a negative on the car. The target has moved on. Has Intel picked up his location?” I had to strain to catch his voice, I could only just make out his words. Hearing myself referred to as ‘the target’ sent a cold shiver down my spine.
“Okay thanks, I’ll get to it. Bye.” The man hung up, stowing his phone back in his pocket. He turned to the younger man, who had been nervously exploring the inside of my car during the short call.
“We’ve got 60 hours left. He hasn’t been spotted on any of the cameras, Intel think he hasn’t gone far. Found anything in there?”
Here ends the latest part of 'The Last Dose Of Reality'. Please, any feedback will be greatly appreciated below! Also, if you've enjoyed reading please remember to upvote, resteem, and follow me @jhcooper7 to not miss out on the rest of the story!
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