Chapter 11
What a hole you’ve dug yourself
Wilson
The wind shifts, carrying with it the sharp scent of damp earth.
Tainted soil.
Contaminated water and endangered animals.
It’s full of minerals and dense.
My hackles have been up since dawn broke but the roaring horde of decomposed I was trailing didn’t.
They collect near the base of my house as I watch from a distance, screaming their disdain and clawing at one another in hunger. Peeling flesh and hanging muscle coated in various debris over their forms, each one more disgusting than the next.
It’s repulsive.
And yet my stomach rumbles with its anger at having missed another meal. Clenches with another arrow stomped to pieces on the ground. Rolls over at the disappearing light that’s rapidly being overcome by a wash of red.
The impending rain and the moving group of decomposed means all of my traps have tripped and there’s no way left back up to safety.
The smoke signal I set off some distance back was my last chance.
I have no idea where the Guards that might see it are. Or how long it might take them to get here.
Moros …
But if the sudden shift of eyes in my direction is any indication, it won’t be fast enough.