Page 101 of The Darkest Hour

Where are you now? Are you still on this island? Or did you find a way off?

I scanned the area around the stream, searching for any other signs—broken branches, disturbed leaves, anything that might give me a clue about the person who had left these tracks.

But there was nothing, just the quiet murmur of the water and the whisper of the wind through the trees.

Alright. I have a clue. Kind of. . .

A chill crept over me, not from the cold but from the realization that I was standing in a place where someone else had stood, someone unknown.

The forest felt different now, less like a place of isolation and more like a place full of secrets.

First, I found a dead man holding a gun with three dead handcuffed kids. Was this person with the boots, a friend of the dead man? Or are the dead people and boot prints all unrelated?

Sighing, I stood up, my muscles tensed, ready to move on.

The idea of staying in one place for too long suddenly seemed dangerous, as if those boot prints were a warning to keep moving, to not let my guard down.

If Havoc does make it here, I hope he sees these boot prints. I wonder what his thoughts would be about them.

I took one last look at the stream, its surface still glittering under the moonlight, before I turned and started walking again, deeper into the forest, but keeping the stream close on my left.

The more I walked, the more I yawned.

I had to go to sleep soon, but the last thing I wanted to do was wake up to my wrists being bound by rope and Havoc wickedly smiling over me.

Even more. . .would Havoc just wake me up to his cock?

His words hit my head.

“And when that happens. . .I will fuck you, wherever we are.”

That got me to pick up my walking.

An hour must have passed by as I kept a rushed pace along the stream.

But it was in that hour when a twig snapped behind me.

Oh no.

My blood turned icy in my veins.

I froze in place and widened my eyes.

Was that Havoc? Did he find me? Or. . .is it the person with the boots?

I turned slowly towards the source of the noise, while forming my hands into fists and preparing my body for flight.

I waited for a silent minute.

But it wasn't Havoc who emerged from the darkness.

Instead, a shy doe stepped into the strip of moonlight.

Dear God.

Her ears were erect and her nose twitched.

Relief flooded through me.

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