by Roman Shepp
Quentin turned to face him and snarled. The man practically was dragging his left leg along, wincing every time he put any weight on it. It looked like his ankle was broken. There was a welt above his temple, and his clothes had been torn. He begged for mercy, but Quentin was deaf to his pleas. Quentin reached out his hands and put them around the man's throat, holding them tightly until his eyes bulged and his chest stopped moving. He had been too weak even to fight back, which was pitiful. Quentin hurled the body into the river and watched the current carry it along. The man was face down, his arms and legs splayed out. Shaking his head, Quentin went to continue his quest when he heard their voices getting louder. They were coming back his way. Had they heard him?
No, they were smarter than that. They wouldn't be so loud. Quentin looked around for some place to hide. It wasn't time for him to strike yet. Grabbing a thick branch, he swung his body up and twisted round so that he was lying on top of it. Balancing carefully, he rose until he was standing on two feet, and climbed further up the tree, disappearing into its foliage. Down below, he watched the group pass underneath him, completely unaware he was watching them. They were looking at a map, talking among themselves, not paying any attention to the surrounding area. They deserved to die. It was a wonder they had lived this long at all.
Quentin waited until their voices had faded and then dropped down, landing softly on the ground. Now that the group had turned back on themselves, they had stopped marking the trees. So, it was a little more difficult for Quentin to follow their tracks, but not impossible. He soon found their footprints and followed at a safe distance. His thoughts were occupied with what he would do to them once he found them, how he would punish them and kill them for what they had done. The time was coming soon. They were looking for something, he didn't know what, but perhaps it was something he could use. Maybe he would let them live until they led him to whatever it was they were seeking.
He stopped when he found them again. They were standing in front of something. It looked like a... a door! A door, in the middle of the forest! Quentin's hackles rose, for he knew what that meant. A bunker. The government and the military always were prepared, and Quentin's fury turned into a burning rage. The army had betrayed him once and he hadn't been able to get his revenge. Quentin was surer than ever that fate was on his side. The door opened, and a man stood there, welcoming them in. One by one, they followed the man into the darkness. It must have been part of some conspiracy. The world always had its secrets.
As they disappeared Quentin made his way to the bunker, treading carefully in case there was anyone watching him. When no alarm was raised, he was confident. At one point he froze when he spied a security camera peering at him from a hidden vantage point, but then he remembered how the electronics had stopped working. The door swung shut, and Quentin placed his hand against it, feeling the cold metal. It only was a matter of time before he got inside, and he would wait, wait until he could seize his fate.
Find out what happens in part three! Coming soon!
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