Chapter 4- Fleeing

Panic still coursed through me at the sound of that voice and its accompanying footsteps. So, I stayed still and silent. If I moved so much as a muscle, they would find me right away.

"She's gone!" Someone almost screamed as a door burst open. I guessed that someone must have jumped in shock based on the sounds I heard coming through the vent.

"What?" An unseen man shouted in response.

"Number Sixty-three dash four. She's gone. Someone must have taken her." The first frantic voice called out with intense rage. "He's not going to be happy about this."

"So, the power outage, do you think it's a ruse?" The second man asked as footsteps echoed across the unseen room.

"Must be." The first man added. "Let's go. We need to find her."

"In this storm? Her captor will be nearly impossible to find."

"Not if we can find them before they leave the building." That's all I caught, before a door slammed, and most of the noise cut off completely.

They thought someone came to rescue me. So, does this mean people are looking for me? Is someone out there waiting for me to come home? Someone who will protect me from whoever these villains are? I hoped the answer was yes, but I wasn't about to place any bets on it just yet.

And who were those two men talking about when they said, "He's not going to be happy about this"? Who is he? And what did he have to do with me? My head buzzed with too many questions right now, and my addled brain struggled to puzzle through them.

None of the questions mattered yet. The first part of this whole ordeal was almost over. Then I'd move onto the next part: staying away. I'd look for somewhere safe to hide and rest for the night, then I could think through those burning questions. Safety first, answers second. Telling myself this helped push me through the fear.

The vent on this part of the building connected to wood and brick rather than subterranean stone, meaning it'd been quite securely fastened. I couldn't just push it out easily. In fact, I couldn't push it at all.

In the end, I'd had to punch the vent cover repeatedly. Over and over, I pounded my fist against it, not caring about how many times I scraped and cut my hand in different places. It's all fine, as long as I can get away.

Kicking it would have been better. Kicking would give me a larger striking surface and likewise a stronger force behind each kick. However, I wasn't able to turn around in the shaft, so my fist or my head were the only weapons available to me. Since I needed my head to think, I didn't want to headbutt the thing.

About a dozen blows to the metal later, the vent cover started to sag and droop a little. I was doing it. With a little more force and two well-placed hands, I would be able to slip free of the vent.

I'm free! The words reverberated in my mind only as the vent opened at last. The rain outside started to blow into the ductwork with me. The cool, refreshing water made my eyes want to close so I could revel in the wonderful feel of it. This isn't the time, however, so I ignored that desire.

I slid out and fell to the dark, wet ground. Instantly, my body was soaked through with mud and rain. The vent had exited out beneath a covered walkway next to a set of stone steps. However, that awning-like cover hadn't helped at all. The water was streaming in from the sides as rain fell in a torrential downpour. That rain just might help me.

I slithered and wiggled like a snake until I completely escaped the building. Not wanting to waste any time, I quickly rose to my knees, before shifting almost at once to my feet. The squelching and squishy feel of the mud momentarily unsettled me, but it didn't take long to start ignoring it. In the grand scheme of things, this really wasn't a big deal.

I sat for a moment, crouched on my haunches, looking around the open area beyond the cover of the awning. I hadn't been prepared for what lay before me. Aside from the storm, the area around this mysterious building was quite unbelievable.

I happened to be sitting in the middle of a very rare rainstorm, one quickly becoming a flash flood, as the storm surged in the middle of a desert. There were cacti nearby, but apart from them, everything around me looked wet and sandy. The mud at my feet wasn't really mud at all. It was actually some sort of sandy swill.

This storm might hinder me, and it might even be dangerous for me to flee during it. However, it might be what I need. It would be less likely for them to spot me because the dark mixed with the pouring rain made the visibility quite low.

"I can hide in plain sight, if I need to." I told myself to boost my confidence. After which, I took off at a blind run, picking a direction at random.

OK, so not actually random at all. I'd seen the road, just barely, as it curved to the left. To my right, a floodlight glowed through the rain, indicating more people would be in that direction. So, I took advantage of the only darkness before me, and bolted straight into the waiting desert.

My feet splashed through puddles, and squelched sickeningly, as I hurried into the night beyond. I was completely drenched, and soaked through, but I still needed to keep running. I couldn't stop. If I was too close to the light, they would see me. Even the smallest amount of light would cause my hair or skin to reflect like a beacon.

For reasons incomprehensible to me, I'd apparently decided to dye my hair to three different vibrant colors. It was darker on top, a deep red, that faded down to orange, and then finally to yellow on the ends. It looked pretty, there's no denying it, but it happened to be extremely noticeable as well.

And my complexion, hadn't I ever heard of a tan? I mean, come on, I was as pale as snow. Then again, it might have been a side effect of what those people did to me. And perhaps they'd dyed my hair too. So, honestly, I couldn't fault myself for this too much. And this just made sense, considering that my eyes stood out too, being a bright shade of orange.

Still, my appearance would stand out, no matter where I went. Meaning I would need to stay hidden at almost all times. If people saw me, and my unique colorings, then whoever took me would figure out where I'd run off to. I wouldn't be safe anywhere. Not while I was this noticeable.

First I'd find shelter. Then food. And only after those two tasks are completed will I think about my past, my future, and anything else I could come up with at the time. Safety and necessities were primary, though.

"I don't even know how long it's been since I've eaten, but I feel like it's been months. I'm starving." I didn't have to whisper to myself anymore. Not with the thunder and pouring rain cascading around me.

As much as I tried to focus on my escape, I didn't see what was coming next. I'd been too blinded by the insanity of this whole situation, and it just took me by surprise.