Running from prison dogs

One fall morning, when the fog from the heat of the earth was still present around the air, a young man was walking at a brisk and nervous pace. He kept his head down and his eyes concentrated on where he was headed, which was a place some way up the path.1

Behind him was the foreboding outline of Ashin city’s dark prison. It was many stories high and it was a wonder that the authorities hadn’t closed it down. A few smart people who didn’t work for the dictator knew the reason, and it was because they made it their life to refuse his claim to the throne.2

That minority knew that the prison was kept because of its harsh conditions, and nothing else. The prison was rusted and molded, damp and repulsive. Anyone who went there rarely came out. Hangings were done weekly, although the place had plenty of room to spare for new inmates.3

However, not everyone who went there deserved it. Many of the people working in the resistance who were captured were sent there if they were believed to have done something greatly damaging to the dictator’s rule and standing.4

The ruler’s standing among the other countries didn’t matter, something the common people didn’t know, because the country was the smallest and weakest defended country of the three. With Terrum taking the great leap into mechanicalism, Terid was pushed out of the picture.5

The man’s pace didn’t slow at all and after passing a fairly cozy looking inn, one began to wonder what he was up to.6

A cold morning wind blew fiercely towards Ashin city and tried to turn the man backwards. His pace didn’t waver, although he did look as if the cold of the wind was getting him. The gust died down after a few seconds and he shook his head, keeping his ands in his pockets.7

He wore a long, ragged coat that looked as if this journey could be its last and his black as night hair had a strange quality to it, for the light of the sun didn’t appear to be hitting it. His hair hid his eyes, which were pure black except for small flecks of the whitest white and gray.8

Another gust wind blew towards him and he faltered in his step. It seemed as if he was going to stand with his back to the wind but a larger consequence stood in his way. He lifted his head shortly after faltering and tried to locate the sun from behind the dark gray clouds.9

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but close it as the faint wails of a siren reached the spot where he was. The pitch of the siren’s cries was familiar to him and he broke into a run without a second thought about the position of the sun.10

His hands had left his pockets and he turned off the road and into the trees of the forest, sprinting as far away as he could from the siren. Panic and despair was written all over his face as he ran frantically through the near bare trees. Twigs and leaves crunched under his feet, making a loud interference against the morning quiet.11

As the sound of sirens quieted, his breathing became heavier and more labored. He tripped over a tree root and fell face-forward onto the ground. This produced a bought of swears and curses and two sore hands as they stopped him from breaking his nose.12

He turned over on his back and spread out his arms so that if it had snowed, he could have formed a snow angel. Wind whipped through the trees and blew leaves over him and he watched his breath mist in front of his face.13

“Hah,” He breathed, heaving air into his burning cold lungs. “I won. They knew I was gone before parole.”14

He lay in silence for a long time. Closing his eyes once his breath had calmed down, he paid attention to the sounds of quiet and peace.15

“How long before they send the dogs? Can I find the river by then? Where am I to go? Will she live long enough?” he murmured, running the thoughts and their possibilities over in his mind.16

His eyelids were heavy with the lack of sleep and he knew that if he fell asleep where he was, he would either die from cold or he would be returned to Ashin’s prison and that would disappoint her. He had something else to live for, though.17

Suddenly aware that footfall of some kind was in the direction he was running from and the acrid smell of dogs was in the wind. He stood quickly and as still as a tree. He tried to concentrate on the sound but his nerves were too awry and jumpy for him to focus.18

He tried to imagine that the dogs were right behind him after bolting in the opposite direction and he ran much faster, he thought, after a minute of thinking so. He kept the pace of the running even though his lungs had never been that strong. 19

I have to find that river, he said to himself. I have to find the river quickly. I need to find it now.20

His breathing closed out all other sound and he was partially glad of that. His mind was disconnected from everything around him, even the motion of his legs, and it took him a little flash of time to realize that his feet were cold and wet.21

“Wet!” he gasped, coming to a halt, nearly falling again. Looking behind him, he could see the cattails and weeds near the water of a shallow stream. It was wide enough for both of feet to step in when running and looked as if it got deeper a little ways down. “Perfect!”22

He ran into the water, ignoring the loud splashes and freezing cold that took away the feeling in his toes.23

“Ah! Damn! It’s too c-c-cold! Why d-did it have to be so c-c-close to the winter s-solstice?” he said between gritted teeth.24

The howl of a dog sent the hair on the back of his neck on end and he immediately sat down in the dirty water and began to hide himself in the weeds. Once that was done, he began to situate himself so that it was as comfortable as you could be when sitting in freezing cold water.25

He dipped his head under the water just to be sure his scent was doused as much as possible. His nose and ears stung with cold and his hair remained as black as it did when it was dry.26

“I’ll be caught.” He whispered. “I’ll die as soon as they put me back into that cell from cold. This was a stupid idea. Who would ever believe that he would be alive? Who would think that me, of all people, would be able to bring him back? No, no. How stupid. I’ve failed before I’ve begun. I can’t do this. Let them find me, and let me die because I’ve done what I can for the cause but this has been in vain.”27

The snuffling of hounds became close and soon he could see them from behind his dense shroud of grasses. He shortened and quieted his breath as much as he could, staring wide-eyed with apprehension at each hound.28

29

What seemed like a lifetime later, the dogs had finally left the stream alone and had gone away. To where, the man had no concern. He crawled out of the river and lay on his side by the bank and stared into the water. Shaking with cold from the water and from the gusts of wind, he began to curse anything that came to mind.30

“Curse t-the gods! Why wasn’t I c-c-caught? It would have b-b-been b-better if she was… by… my s-side…”31

His eyes lost focus and closed slowly, as if he was trying to blink. They didn’t open back up and his breathing slowed down to the point where someone would think he was sleeping. His mouth hung open slightly, and the wind changed direction. It blew leaves against his wet back, making him shiver visibly.32

It was not long until everything had gone quiet and his mouth closed, so you couldn’t hear his labored breath. The forest returned to its normal routine and ignored the escapee.