Running

At last... finished.

First completed short story: Running (for lack of a better title).

Hope you like it. *cringe*

Bubi

Running

She collapsed, marvelling in the feel of the stone floor on her face, and chuckled as her eyes closed.

***

She woke up after... she looked at her watch. Damn it, too long, she thought to herself. Several blades of grass were plastered to her face as she dragged herself to her feet. Looking down she saw that she had not managed to roll her robe up despite her exhaustion. Damn it, she thought again. Swaying unsteadily, she reached down to the ground and picked it up. It was still damp and was now stained with mud, leaves and a few dead insects. Screw it... She put it on, taking several unsteady steps as she struggled to put her hands into the sleeves. The gentle trickling of a brook reached her ears as she stumbled through the undergrowth of the southern forest. The flowing water grew slowly louder with each halting step, but she stopped when she saw the flickering of the morning sunlight below her. She approached the water, crying aloud when her foot slipped and she fell heavily, the water just within reach. Rolling over onto her knees, she crawled until she could see her reflection. She could only look at herself for a second before she fell into the brook. Some water dribbled into her open mouth, while a thin trail of blood traced its way down the narrow stream.

Her left eye was black and puffed up, her right eye nearing that state, stray locks of her hair were stuck to her face, her lip was split and crusted with partially dry blood and her arms were dotted with bruises and cuts that she did not need to look at to know that they were there. Looking at her clothes, they were torn or ripped in several places while her boots still had remnants of mountain pebbles stuck in them, along with the mud of two forests and just shy of two thousand kilometres worth of crap.

“God damn it!” she muttered to herself.

I did not just go through thirteen and a half days of this shit to give up with fifty kilometres to go. There was a sharp stone just under her hand. She picked it up and held it, tightly. Ah, pain... Letting it fall, a drop of blood seeped out of her palm. Slapping it down into the water, she managed to haul herself to her feet again. She could feel the presence of her shadow. Heh, no point trying to outrun her... She smirked as she stumbled across the brook and further through the forest. Looking about the trees around her, she found some wild berries and a couple of edible insects as she went. Without a thought she ate them. So much for healthy living, she grinned, well, that’s breakfast. It did not fill her at all, but it was better than nothing. Her stomach was close to stuck to her spine.

For the next two hours, or however long her mind decided it was, she lurched her way through the final expanse of woodland and she reached the southern plains. She was already too far south, any further south and the desert would be welcoming her to her death. Laughing a short and harsh laugh, she sat down heavily and leaned on the last tree before the plains to catch her breath. If this last stretch would not kill her, nothing much would. For several minutes, she breathed deeply, refusing to let her eyes close for more than a few seconds. Satisfied that she was as ready as she ever would be, she got to her feet and stood as far up the trees massive trunk as she could without falling, but then she let herself fall eyes slowly closing. With a painful kick against the wood, she was away, energy flowing painfully down her legs with each step. Each movement was agony to her joints and she felt each impact her booted feet made against the ground. Her body screamed, but all she cared for and concentrated on was the feel of the wind in her face, flowing through her hair. At last she opened her eyes and watched as the scenery passed her by just above her eye-line. Her face was barely a metre above the ground as her feet propelled her along at almost sixty kilometres an hour. Each step was thirty metres, but the pain grew ever more taxing on her.

After what seemed an age, the finish line was still out of sight, but she forced herself to go on. One step, two step, three step, one more, one more. I am alive, I am alive. Her throat was raw, but she took another step. It grew shorter and shorter and she found herself looking intently at the ground she skimmed over. A shadow that flew past her took her by surprise and she stumbled and fell rolling in the muddy field.

“Number ninety-seven!” the shadow’s voice resounded from above.

For the third time that day, she forced herself to her feet, picking up one foot out of the mud and then the other, and she saw it. That hall is what I’ve been busting my guts to reach? Screw you, Major! Breathing hoarsely, she managed somehow to half jog half stagger towards the finishing line. None of the others were nearing it except those who had already finished. A hundred metres, eighty metres, seventy metres, sixty-five...

“MOVE!” she shrieked to herself and with one last heave, she leapt.

Forty, twenty, five. She fell to her knees and crawled the last final steps. Spit fell from her mouth as she saw a pair of boots in front of her. Without looking she grabbed the owner’s shirt and pulled herself up.

“What the...?” the Sergeant started.

He was cut off by her head in his face. He jerked back, but she remained standing.

“Number ninety-seven,” she panted, “Reporting for Corps registration, sir!”

The Sergeant looked at her and smiled grimly. She looked at him. That bloody smile, like that of so many others.

***

Number seventy-two, if memory served her correctly. He had caught up to her on the ninth day, but she spotted him and evaded his efforts to mark her. And for the next three hours, she had led him on a merry, tiring, chase around the hills between the capital and the Arena City. But he was a persistent jackass, like a cockroach. He cornered her at an intersection of the Arena Road North and First Provincial Freeway. He looked at her in the rain with a wide tooth-ridden grin. She would have returned the look if it wasn’t for her dislocated shoulder.

“May I?” she asked, pointing at her left shoulder.

“Be my guest!” he replied, grin widening.

She lifted her arm with her right hand and wrapped the fingers around one of the barrier posts. It was her time to smile as she yanked herself away from it, hand still held tight, before wrenching the bone back into its socket. Third time she had done that in her life, still not nice. But at least it told her that she was alive.

“Bring it, bitch!” she smiled.

Taking two steps, he sped towards her, his fist flying towards her face. It brushed her hair as she dodged at the final moment. He easily rolled away as she turned into her riposte. With a quick block, he stood tall, leapt up and aimed a kick at her head. Again she dodged and as she spun almost into the kick, her own foot unexpectedly connected with his arm. Without thinking, she twirled her whole body round, a crunching kick of her own striking his temple with as much strength as more than a week of wilderness racing allowed. It was hard enough to down a horse, but he only staggered back a few steps. Most of the impact had been absorbed by his arm, raised in defence. But she did not give him any time to recover, closing him down and aiming two lightning punches at his head, before ducking and sending a vicious hook into his abdomen and darting back up, dealing him a jarring uppercut that only managed to deflect off his chin. He struck back, but her guard was firm. Defending several combinations, she at last blocked a straight cross and finding the speed from somewhere, responded with a punch that came straight from her heel before she lowered her block. Using what strength he had left, he rolled with the punch and managed a kick to the side of her head. It was far from strong, but she was already bruised during the fight and the foot struck her head cleanly, the laces of his boots digging into her eye. They both fell away from each other, but she managed to stay on her feet. She stumbled away and waited to see if he was going to get up. She took one step towards him, but was he going to move? He did not, and she then knew she had wasted enough time as it was. She ran away as best she could.

All throughout the fight, that feeling of her shadow was ever there, watching her, judging her, mocking her. She felt other eyes on her come and go as she sped south west, but those of her shadow never left her back. Wolves, hawks and horses watched as she raced past them, under the freeway and across the farmland that was on her way. This was her first fight of the trial... and it was one fight too many. Her strides were losing their strength, and had been for the last few days. Her body protested at the strain that she forced herself through. Because of this fight, she only travelled a hundred and sixty or so kilometres that day, even running late into the night. She finally stopped at almost one o’clock in the morning.

“Heh, five days to go..., stupid, aren’t I?” she whispered to herself as she looked around her.

There was an expanse of nothingness around her. By the moonlight there was almost nothing to see, not even the scattered pre-Unification ruins of the south. She was too far west for that, and the Temple was further to the south. For now, she had to go further west until she saw the mountains that were the State’s western border. Sighing, she sensed her ever present shadow, wherever she was, enjoying her evening snack with great relish. Her stomach rumbled as if to stress it. Why did I have to get the Princess?! She tried to laugh, but could not. She hurt too much, and tired, but no sleep came to comfort her.

She looked out into the night landscape and wondered where the others were.

***

It was nearly three in the morning when she was called. The Sergeant grinned maliciously in the dim moonlight as he produced a stop watch.

“Enjoy the next two weeks! I’m sure it’ll be most enlightening,” he chuckled, “Go!”

At that, she was off, speeding along towards the eastern hills. Apparently, some bigshot from the Arena had come along to be one of the shadows. To be honest, she could hardly care less. It did not really matter who your shadow was, but then, it was going to be that little bit more difficult. Only the best from the Corps could go toe-to-toe with those from the Arena, almost regardless of what it was in. And here she was, six months of wilderness training, a year of harsh combat with the Corps veterans and a year and a half of brutal army training before all of that had made her this, a woman born to fight amongst the best for her country. The Arena did not count, they were almost pure forces of nature, and even within the State, few truly knew what they were about. She did not think that long on it, she had more pressing issues. Like, where on earth was her shadow right now.

She sped along, setting herself a hard pace for the first couple of days, aiming to cover at least two hundred kilometres each day. She wondered if it was a good decision to head straight east to skirt along the border between the Haven Forest and western hills and canyons. It was very open, so few of the applicants would want to risk it. Tracking for the shadows would be very easy across the exposed path that she chose. But that did not matter that much. Being sighted by other people was going to be the problem. Thankfully, the settlements west of the Haven Forest were few and far between and virtually none were in the mountains except for the single city which was easy enough to avoid with the multitude of mountain pathways. The only trouble she might have would be the trainee army mountaineers that might be wandering around. They always seemed to sending groups up there at random times of year. However, the Corps was hardly different.

Nothing of note happened over the first few days, which was absolutely fine by her, so she could keep a good pace, travelling about a hundred and seventy or so kilometres each day, moving during the afternoons and late at night. But, by the fifth day, the forced fasting that the applicants went through before the start was starting to take its toll. She foraged whenever she could and almost ate a balanced diet for the first few days. She even caught a rabbit that lasted her two days. It was a little tougher on the second day as she expected, but it still cooked well. The State’s numerous farms that she passed gave her ample food that she saved for the first mountain leg.

She encountered a patrol from the army on the fifth day, but they were easily rounded, but it was then that she caught the scent of her shadow, an almost ethereal presence niggling at the back of her mind, fading in and out. A powerful telepath if she could be tracked in this way. Forever asking the questions: where am I? how do I track you? am I, even? That mocking presence never left her, softly laughing at her. But it disappeared ominously on the morning of the sixth, though her progress was good enough that she did not care as she moved south west, leaving the mountains behind her. She was starting to tire at eight o’clock in the morning, when she had been running for almost eleven hours, her head as tired as her body when she felt two in front of her, very close to her, very close to each other. Minutes later, and she could see them, two of the others, hopefuls to the Corps, slugging it out. Every so often, one would leap away, only to be caught again and for the fight to begin afresh. She knew that ‘marking’ could be harsh, but this was worse than she thought likely. Both of them would be too tired to continue with any speed to finish by the day’s end. She was barely half a kilometre from them on the rolling plains as she watched them fight. She could see each strike that they threw at each other. Suddenly, her shadow appeared. She recognised that smiling condescension and sense of superiority. And the moment her shadow appeared, she knew that is was well deserved. Her shadow was the Princess of the Arena, and she was the mediator. She materialised from seemingly nowhere and soon both of the other aspirants were fighting her. She watched as the Princess moved with unnatural grace, speed and elegance, and barely seconds later, both of the belligerents were incapacitated. The Princess stood tall and looked straight at her and she could see the grin, before she sped straight into the air. She had slowed slightly, but the disconcerting smile the Princess parted with, scared her. But then, they were a race apart. Even so, she kept running, through the morning and that afternoon.

Exhaustion finally took her at four o’clock that afternoon. She had been running for fifteen of the last twenty-four hours. She stopped at one of the old ruins and dragged herself onto one of the upper floors, trying to empty her head. This was one of the old stone forts, deserted long before the Unification. She barked a single short laugh that she would think of such a random thought, as she sank onto the floor, her face gently pressing the cobbled stones as she lost consciousness.

***

“Welcome to the Corps,” she could barely hear the Major’s voice.

About bloody time, was all she could say, but she was not sure if she just thought those words. All she was sure of was the triumphant smile that pulled at her eyes.

(approx. 3150)