A is for... astronomical assortment of agonising
ways to be annihilated.
Guinevere resorted to alliteration as it was easier than
running through the Jedlock Woods at night; however, she didn't have much of a
choice and the moon was shining enough so that she could see what was in front
of her. She jumped over a fallen tree and moved onto the next letter.
B...B is for...
She slowed her run down, just for a few moments unable to
think of one for B. That’s when the first siren came in. It couldn't have been
a car, no, there were no roads this far out into the woods. Guinevere stepped
back between two trees and held out her arms.
Is it big enough for motorcycles? They’d have to
be pretty good at driving. Do they hire professional drivers just to catch
lousy criminals these days? I wouldn't have thought so...That means they know,
or maybe they don’t, maybe they don’t even want to catch me.
Guinevere had stopped running altogether now, inspecting the
trees, trying to work out whether or not the space between them could fit
certain vehicles. Meanwhile, the sound of the siren was becoming louder and it
wasn't just the one. After she listened for a while Guinevere noticed a clear
pattern six whoops and then two low beeps and two whoops played over the top of
that, logically speaking there had to be at least two vehicles, probably closer
to three. She turned around trying to find a tree easy enough to climb, but
most of the trees in the woods had very few low lying branches. Climbing was
just not an option.
Maybe I should just wait around for them to catch
up, so long as they’re mortal, there’ll be no problems...Who am I kidding,
mortals aren't going to manoeuvre their way through these woods...
Guinevere
decided that she wasn't going to wait around long enough to find out who was
chasing her. But she’d definitely narrowed it down to professionals:
assassins – probably
not, the sirens were too messy
law
enforcement – yeah, that seemed just about right
She set off
north, or at least what she thought was north.
Head north to the nearest highway, grab a ride,
escape. Simple.
She’d only been running for about 2 minutes when the sirens
cut out. All Gwen could hear was the buzz of the engines, and a significant
buzz at that. She stopped running and moved behind a tree.
I can’t see flashlights, which would mean they don’t
have them. Hopefully.
The buzz of the engines came to a stop and the sound
replaced with the crunch of sticks beneath heavy boots.
