My Darkening Ember

Chapter Two

I climbed the rocky mountains before the sun dawned. I would have a few hours of rest before the sheriff and his men would start chasing me.

Hunting something or someone in the desert would take preparation. Only a fool would start a pursuit with no supplies. It would give me well over half a day before they would catch up, giving me plenty of time to disappear amongst the many caves and cracks in the mountains.

If I was lucky, the hidden sky tunnels could be my guide.

Carved and mined by the first men, the sky tunnels were used for strategized ambushes and easy passage. It had since been a convenient and quick passage for anyone lucky enough to find the secret entrance. But as time changed, the tunnels seemed to disappear, blending in with the mountains. No one knew exactly where they were, but if I could find them, it would lessen my trouble.

I curled up in a small cave not deep enough to hide me but deep enough to shield me from the sun. I needed rest. A few hours would do. Only the dead could sleep.

Shadows had changed, as I woke. It was already midday. I had rested for too long.

"Dammit," I cursed as I brushed the sand off my dress before climbing out of the cave, squinting my eyes as the sun greeted me.

From my vantage point, I could see the main passage through the sandy cliffs. I would follow it from up high, climbing along the walls, taking care of every step. It would give me an advantage should the sheriff or any other fool reach me.

The stone path I was on was very unsafe, any misstep and I would be plunging to the ground. Looking down I knew a fall from this high would most likely kill me.

A crack of a whip and ruffling in the sand alerted me.

Riders.

I wanted to panic, immediately backing up, pressing my back against the cliff wall trying to remain unseen. The wall conveniently curved, hiding most of my frame.

They came riding at full pace through the pathway beneath me. One, two—five riders passed me. None of them looked back to my luck. Then just as I was about to move, another rider sent me stumbling back. A sixth rider, moving at a slower pace. I turned only my eyes, terrified to direct any attention toward myself.

The rider was wearing all black. A long black coat covered a dark vest and spread over his horse's back. On his feet were boots lined with feathers that also had silver spurs turning in the wind. A black, broad-brimmed hat, shadowed half his face.

A Mile man, I realized in fear. Only they would wear the colour of death.

I covered my mouth and forgot to breathe as I locked eyes with someone.

Then came the horror, their terrible reputation displayed on two wobbly legs. Tumbling behind the rider, with his neck bound to a long rope, was a young man. His white blouse was covered in blood, coming from his bruised face. His hands were tied in front. I studied his frame, legs, clothes, face, and eyes—eyes looking straight into mine.

I swallowed hard and held my breath as I felt tears of fright fill my eyes. Fearing he could hear my heart beating I wanted it to stop beating, to stop working.

Much was said about Mile men but being inhuman was a common belief amongst many.

The poor man said nothing as they walked past, the rider was still unaware of my presence. The man looked only for a few seconds before diverting his gaze forward, pretending not to have seen me. Guilt hit me like a punch to the gut.

Save him.

That depraved, nonsensical voice hidden deep inside me crawled to the surface. Its hoarse voice was remanent of something I had locked away and starved for years.

Look at him, he's pleading for you. Save him you monster.

I wanted to. The gods would know I did. I started questioning my humanity and took a step.

But the evil within me responded.

Quiet. Don't be a fool. Think of yourself. Don't challenge your fate. Be selfish for once.

The evil was right. I fell back against the safety of the wall, watching the riders and the poor man walk out of sight.

I gave them a good moment to ride ahead before continuing. If they saw me they would question my presence so far from my town and brand me a bounty. No one would be this far from everything, alone, if they weren't running from somebody. I didn't even dare think of the torture they would make me endure. It pained me to be so selfish but this world didn't make room for much else.

Think of yourself because no one else would. A great lesson taught by a selfish man.

I climbed the whole day and rested at night. I was blind in the dark. The invisible curves of the path or cracks were dangerous to try and conquer at night.

There had been no sign of the sheriff or his men and I started to wonder if they had taken a different path through the mountain or maybe, they had just given up on finding me. I knew that was wishful thinking. Colt would never stop coming for me, that had been clear for many years. He was the monster within me. The one commanding me to ignore everyone's pain and not be a hero. He was the one I would suffer under if I listened to my humanity.

I curled up on the path, squeezing myself against the wall as tightly as I could. Its thin edge was a constant reminder that I was just dangling myself in front of death. I would be fine I reassured myself, as long as I didn't turn in the night.

The sun danced and I was up again. There was no time to waste. The cliffs would end soon and my advantage would cease. The tundra would stretch a few miles before the snowy mountains began. I was running against time or the sun.

The Tundra...It was a canvas of rocks and dead weeds. A bare terrain where life only passed through and nothing settled. I would pass too. Quick and quiet.

It wouldn't take long to get from the sandy cliffs to the snowy mountains, but I would be exposed for a moment. Anyone looking for me would know my location. There was no cover in the tundra unless you were inches tall and could hide behind the small rocks.

The blue sky was cloud-free and an eagle was flying high. The sun was burning my skin and my garment dress was becoming a hassle. I stopped for a moment, pulling out a water jug and a piece of dried cow's meat.

I hadn't managed to get different clothing but I had succeeded in stealing from Rockwell's kitchen before fleeing.

It was my farewell revenge. Although as my stomach growled I frowned.

I took two sips of the jug and quickly put it away. Temptation wanted more, but my water supply was limited, and dying of thirst because of stupidity, would not be what took me out.

I took a few steps and suddenly gasped as my foot dangled into nothing. I pulled myself in before I lost balance. The path stopped there with a gaping hole from me to the next cliff path. There was no way I could cross it, much less jump it.

"Gods be damned," I cursed watching the sands below. It all looked the same, the same colour and texture.

The realization hit like a punch to my gut. I had to climb down and take the main road until I could climb again. If I could just find the sky tunnels, it would be so much easier.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead and picked up my garment. Going backwards, I climbed down, jumping the last few meters to the ground. The sand beneath me stuck to my sweaty palms. I wiped them on my dress and removed my coat, tying it to my bag strap.

I listened before marching forward. My pace was hurried. My paranoia flinched at every sound flying around me. If I was caught I knew what I would do. But the silence was painful. The sound of my steps in the sand, the ruffling of the fabric on my dress, my loud gasps in the terrible heat. I was loud. In this painful silence, I was loud.

The path curved and I hurried my pace.

Voices. I stopped dead in my tracks. There was no place to hide, no cracks, no caves. I froze, listening, concentrating on the vibrations of human voices carried in the calm wind.

Whoever it was, was around the corner.