Macey quiets her breathing as we hunker down behind an old, rotting tree. She clutches her badly twisted ankle. We both know I'm not strong enough to run both of us up the hill, let alone walk us.
Guttural growls echo through the forest around us. It's as if the beast is taunting us, like he's saying, "Come out, come out, little girls."
I so regret this trip. We always get ourselves into shit, but this might be our finale. The trip was fun until now. I glance over to Macey; I can barely make out her features in the moon light. She's paler than usual, right now the moon has more color. Her emerald, green eyes are filled with fear.
I've always looked up to her, she was always stronger than me, funnier, fearless. Now, she is just trying to stay alive.
"Sometimes you have to be strong, even when you feel like you can't be, because it's either that or give up. And Bolton's never give up." I hear dad's sage advice in my head.
The panting gets closer and closer. My stomach churns from the scent of wet dog, garbage, and old blood.
Shit! It looks like it's up to me. I wish I had a gun right now. There's one in the truck, but I can't outrun that thing going up that steep hill.
"Give me your pocket knife." I whisper as softly as possible, remembering that she carries one in her boot.
She hesitantly hands it to me. "And then I want you to hall ass up that hill." I say sternly. "And no matter what, don't look back."
"There's no way in hell I'm leaving you alone." She argues.
"I'll be ok, God and my relatives are protecting me. I'll be fine." I insist.
"I'm not leaving." she says.
"Macey Danielle Mae, I love you with all my heart. Now, stop being a stubborn bitch, and RUN!" I shout.
Jolting to my feet, I run like a cheetah through the woods, probably the fastest I've ever ran in my life. Macey you better be running!
Twigs and leaves crunch beneath this thing, sounding like thunder. Suddenly, it's running parallel to me. Two hell-fire orange eyes stare at me with blood lust. Pure evil radiates from this thing. It could easily catch me if it drops to all fours. But it's enjoying torturing me by running me ragged.
I zig-zag through the trees to throw it off, while screaming from the top of my lungs, "COME GET ME YOU SON OF A BITCH!"