Taken Over (The Ravening #2)(31)
Author: Erica Stevens

I wiggled out the window, grasping the sill with both my hands before releasing it and dropping to the earth. I rolled upon landing, softening the impact. Swiftly regaining my feet, I quickly scanned the area and bolted for the woods. I took pleasure in the act of running, took pleasure in the freedom of the moment. Something inside of me seemed to spring forth, twisting and growing as I plunged into the forest.

Joy filtered through me as I ran, jumping and darting, avoiding obstacles with a grace that I had never possessed until this moment. I didn’t stop to think about that, didn’t pause to wonder how on earth I hadn’t managed to kill myself yet in this heedless dash. I just ran until I couldn’t breathe, until my legs hurt so bad I could hardly take it, and then I ran some more.

I was free.

And I wasn’t going to stop, not now. If it had been physically possible I never would have stopped. But I couldn’t run forever, something that my body was firmly reminding me of now. I fell, tried to climb back to my feet, but the exhaustion of my muscles finally outweighed my intense desire for flight. I fell back to the ground, my fingers dug into the leaves and pine needles beneath me as I panted rapidly. For a moment, as I lay there, inhaling the musty scent of decaying leaves and wet earth, I found peace. I found comfort in my world, my Earth.

I let it wash over me; let it soothe me as it settled into my bones, into my cells, into my very soul. In this moment of utter aloneness and freedom, I finally found the tranquility I had been so desperately seeking. It did not heal my broken heart, but it helped to salvage the pain of my savaged spirit. It was like putting aloe on sunburn, it helped to ease the sting of the pain, but the burn was still present beneath the cool balm. But it felt better, in that moment I felt better.

I breathed deeply, closing my eyes as my fingers curled into the soft ground beneath me. It was wondrous this world of different sights and smells and freedom. That was why the aliens had come to take it from us. They understood the wonder of the world that we had forgotten. They wanted what was ours, our planet, our blood; our lives. They wanted it, and they were slowly and surely wresting it from us. There had to be a way to stop them.

But that wasn’t what I wanted to think about, not here, not now. Now I simply wanted to lie upon the ground and forget about everything except for the magical world surrounding me. Wanted to forget about everything except for the calm stealing through my soul.

The forest came slowly to life around me. Creatures began to move through the woods, creeping out of their holes and dens as they searched for food. I remained unmoving for a long time, inhaling the scents, listening to the sounds, and taking solace in the healing ointment that the world had to offer. So many scents, so many sounds. Far more than I had ever noticed before, but then I had never taken the time to just enjoy the world I had been blessed with. To simply listen, and see, the beauty it had to offer. I took the time to do so now.

I knew I had to return eventually, knew I had to go back to everyone, but I didn’t want to. Not yet anyway.

For now I wanted to be alone. For now I wanted this quiet, this solitude.

I had placed myself in danger by coming out here by myself. There was safety in numbers, alone I was far more vulnerable, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about that right now. I didn’t want to die, didn’t want to get hurt again, that wasn’t what being here was about. This was about just being alive, about discovering joy where there had been none. This was about trying to find the girl that had been buried by the woman with the oddly cold eyes, and strange face.

Even if I couldn’t get her back completely, I wanted just a small piece of that girl again. I just wasn’t sure I would ever be able to find even that small piece of her again. I couldn’t have my home back, couldn’t have my mom back. I couldn’t have Cade back. But this, this I could have. I flipped onto my back, still breathing heavily as I stared at the spatter of stars sparkling through the thick canopy of trees.

I lay there for a long time, breathing in the scents, the sounds, the night. If something came now I would be vulnerable, defenseless if I couldn’t get to my guns in time. But I didn’t care. It didn’t hurt so much here, I was able to breathe a little easier. Here, there was a small sliver of serenity that I wasn’t ready to relinquish.

And somewhere in the forest I finally found a dreamless sleep.

***

“Have you discovered anything?”

Bishop lifted his head from the microscope. He appeared confused by my sudden appearance as he blinked rapidly at me. “I uh, I’m not sure.” 

I frowned at him as I stepped down onto the porch. “What do you mean you’re not sure?”

He shook his head, shoving his glasses up as he took a step away from the microscope. “Maybe it’s because the blood is old.”

“I don’t understand; you need a fresh sample?”

“Yes, yes that must be it. A fresh sample will solve everything.”

“Solve everything?”

I was completely confused by what he was saying, but he didn’t seem to notice as he wandered around in search of something. He was speaking so low that it took me a moment to realize that he was talking to himself. His mutters made me frown and a spike of fear tore through me. What the hell was wrong with him? What was wrong with the blood? What was wrong with me?

“Bishop?”

He lifted a syringe into the air, the sharp needle at the end gleamed eerily in the light. His eyebrows were drawn tightly together as he looked over the needle to me. “It’s nothing to worry about Bethy, I’m sure the samples were just contaminated somehow. They have been moved around a lot, and I haven’t been able to keep them stored as properly as I would have liked. I’m sure that’s the reason for the abnormalities.”

I frowned fiercely at him, not liking his choice of words at all. “Abnormalities?” I croaked.

“It’s nothing a new sample won’t clear right up.”

“Bishop what the hell are you talking about?” I demanded.

His attention had already been diverted back to his machines; he seemed to have simply forgotten the syringe in his hand. A cold chill crept down my spine, the hair on the nape of my neck stood on end. I had been so detached lately, so cold, and unfeeling. What if there was something wrong with me? Was it somehow because of the wound I had received on the beach, on some strange germ the thing had given me perhaps? I had been deadened since Cade had died; I had blamed my detachment on his loss, but was there something wrong with me?