Page 200 of Hunters and Prey

I was limping though, after slicing open my foot in the last segment of bog I’d waded through, presumably on a sharp rock, although the water was black with rotten vegetation and algae, and I didn’t stop to look.

My arm was still bleeding from the bite, since I had no way to bind it, and no way to stop and look for anything that might work to put pressure on the wound. Between both injuries, as well as how much I was sweating, I worried I was leaving too easy of a trail to follow.

If those things had an animal’s sense of smell, I would be easy to track.

I could travel more quietly, given the diminished vegetation, but for the same reason, I felt way too visible here.

I was also getting winded. Not just out of breath; I was getting close to my breaking point, the limits of my strength. I knew from combat that I’d have another jolt of adrenaline in there; a real second wind, maybe even a third.

I couldn’t waste that, though.

I would need that last bit of reserve.

Seeing a slope up ahead and to my left, I changed direction, deciding I needed another strategic pause, and to try and get another snapshot of what might still be following me. The top was covered with a dense thicket of trees, so I should be somewhat protected––depending on how closely I was being followed, and whether they could see me now.

I reached the base of the hill and gathered my muscles, taking it at a sprint, or as close as I could manage, given that I was naked, and badly missing a sports bra.

Half running, half leaping up the slope, I was gasping for breath by the time I was a third of the way up, but I didn’t let myself slow. Knowing I was taking a risk by potentially burning out some of those reserves, I pushed myself harder, using the trees for leverage where I could to shove myself faster up the hill.

That hill felt like a mountain by the time I got to the summit.

I leaned against a tree trunk, gasping for breath, feeling so much relief I nearly sat down on the dark red dirt. Instead I crouched there, my palms flat on my upper thighs, my fingers gripping my shaking muscle and flesh. I stared around, even as I fought to catch my breath, scanning from the Barrier in all directions, looking for movement with my eyes and light.

The first thing I saw, once I could focus my eyes, was the ocean.

Dark waves patterned with sunlight crashed against a long, black-sand beach, colored with red light by a sun obscured in crimson and black clouds.

Staring down at that beach, I realized I knew it.

It was almost unrecognizable, but I knew the rough shape of the cliffs to my right, the slope of the land where I now stood. I knew what would be there, if I was still on my version of Earth, in my version of San Francisco.

It was then when I realized where I was.

I was in Golden Gate Park.

Straightening from the trunk, I walked over to the opposite line of trees, staring down towards the water.

Still breathing hard, but slowly getting my wind back, enough that I was taking care to breathe as much air as I could fully into my lungs, I gazed down over the tops of trees, noting how much further the shore came in, compared to the Ocean Beach I knew at home. Rocks that stood under those cliffs had vanished under that algae-choked, blacker ocean.

Small, rocky islands that stood further off the shore in my world were gone, presumably far under those red-tinted, black waves.

Frowning down the slope, I tried to think of options.

Whatever had happened here, all the buildings had vanished.

If the downtown skyscrapers had been erased with no discernible trace, I had to assume anything made of wood or concrete would be gone, too. I fought to think, trying to remember natural formations that wouldn’t be underwater, any place I might hide.

The sun was resting right on the edge of the horizon now.

Soon it would be pitch black out here.

With the clouds, there wouldn’t even be stars.

I turned around, looking back over the other parts of the city, still careful to stay in the deep black shadows of the trunks.

I gazed down at the forest, looking for those skeletal zombie things.

I didn’t see any. I didn’t hear anything either, or pick up anything with my seer’s sight.

---