PROLOGUE
“IN, 1...2...3...4, OUT 1...2..3..4.,†He repeated in his head, trying hard to focus on the sound of his own breath. It was hard to concentrate on maintaining his breathing with all of the noise around him and his panicked mind. So many noises droning out his thoughts, the thud of his boots on the ground, the swish of the tall grass brushing against his waist, the thumps of his rifle bouncing up and down on his back, the cold night’s wind blowing in his ears, the heavy rain pelting his hood, the barks of the feral hounds behind him and even the sound of his own subconscious, screaming for him to escape. Keeping his head up high, he quickly glanced behind him to see how much time he had left before his pursuers met him. In the field of dead, dried reed grass he could only spot the dogs by the grass they disturbed. His first two glances he guessed 4 but now he was spotting 6-7 close to what he estimated to be 50 yards away.
When Systematic turned his head back foreword he saw the wet, brown-black frame of house, he headed straight for it, relieved to see familiar territory. He picked up his pace, raising his knees high with each stride to clear any obstacles in the reed grass. The running was taking his toll on him and he could feel the burning in his legs and his breaths became shallow/shorter. Running past the house, he made it onto the street and began to travel down it. No sooner than a couple seconds after he made it past the first series of abandoned houses did he hear the pack of hounds reach the street as well. Their alternating barks and eager growls, combined with the frantic clatter of their claws on the pavement created a cacophony so sick it made Systematic’s stomach wrench. With his new found adrenaline rush, Systematic lowered his head, lengthened his stride in an all out sprint. Darting his head back, he could see them maybe 40-50 feet away, dark-blurry silhouettes lying low to the ground. He quickly cut in between two houses, jumping over a 2 sets of fences before deciding to hide inside one of the homes.
After landing down from the second fence in the backyard of deteriorated house, Systematic clumsily ripped his Karambit from his belt and held it ready as he rushed open the door of the house. Once inside and the door closed behind him he was silent, pressing his back against the door, his curved blade held horizontally in front of him. His ears perked from underneath his worn ski mask, he could hear a few stray confused barks being drowned out by the sound of heavy rainfall. He crouched and remained there for 5 or so minutes holding his blade out in front of him, his hands still trembling from the rush. Once his breath returned to normal he started out to secure and inspect his resting place for the night. Cautiously, but confidently moving through each room of the small two story home he found the first floor empty. Nothing but moldy, broken furniture and cracked floorboards. Systematic could hear rain running through the house and stepped out to the living room, there he saw chunks of what was left of a white, porcelain bath tub. Shattered from falling through the second floor and through a hole in the roof, water was pouring in freely. It was better than nothing he reminded himself.
Systematic set his pack and rifle up in a corner and he himself sat down, leaning his back on a wall next to it. His legs propped up with his arms resting on his knees, he took down his hood and watched the moonlight and rain pour through the ceiling and onto the shattered porcelain. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rotting wood wall, knowing he wasn't getting any sleep tonight. He opened his eyes reluctantly and out of the corner of his eyes he saw the figure in white. She was there, sitting next to him like she had last night and the countless ones before that. He turned his head, looking her up and down. Looking at her bare feet which were as white as the porcelain from the shattered tub, working his eyes up to her ripped gray jeans and her white tucked in dress. She was staring right at him as she always was, her dark gray hair running down her back with those clear, faded and soft hazel eyes staring at him unsympathetically. Systematic swallowed the spit in his mouth before reaching over and pushing stray hairs out of her face humbly muttering “I tried my best, you know that right.†She continued to stare at him as he stared back, finally he returned to leaning back against the wall. Both disturbed and comforted by her company, he watched the rain fall onto the shattered tub until moonlight became daylight.
He could tell she was no longer with him, he felt the familiar hollow ache in his chest that he experienced with every time she left his company. He gathered his gear, strapped his pack, held his rifle and stepped back onto the road towards the trading market.