A sharp gasp tore from my throat as I tugged at the scab on my leg, the skin peeling away with a sickening tear. 

The infection had spread, festering under the layers of grime I'd accumulated after days lost in the woods. Dirt, sweat, and blood had seeped into the wound, leaving it swollen and contaminated.

I cringed as I examined it. The gash was an ugly mess, the cracked skin oozing pus that clung to the edges like a festering curse. My hands shook as I poured a few drops of water over it, trying to clean it.

The instant the water touched the open sore, my body seized up in pain. The sensation was unbearable, and I couldn't suppress a hiss as my fingernail grazed the tender flesh.

Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. I collapsed back onto the ground, panting as the pain overwhelmed me.

I'd thought I could handle anything after surviving the wild for so long, but this... this was a new kind of suffering. I felt as though my body was betraying me, as if all the years of struggle had amounted to nothing.

Nausea churned in my stomach. I turned to the side just in time to retch onto the dirt. The sour stench of bile made my already weak stomach twist again, and I had to roll away to escape the smell.

My body was spent, my energy sapped by the infection that was spreading through me. A fever had already taken hold, and sweat soaked through my clothes, clinging to my skin.

I tried to calm my breathing, focusing on the steady rise and fall of my chest, but it did little to ease the growing terror. The fever clouded my mind, but not enough to dull the fear gnawing at the edges of my thoughts. Those men... I couldn't see their faces, but I could feel them out there, hunting me, closing in.

Who were they? What did they want from me? My mind spun with confusion, trying to piece together some sort of answer, but I couldn't think clearly. The fever blurred my thoughts, making it hard to focus. I wasn't anyone important, just a girl lost in the woods. Why would anyone care about me?

I shivered, not from the cold but from fear. The unknown was worse than the pain. Were they still out there, searching? I could feel their presence, lurking somewhere in the dark. What would they do if they found me like this—weak, broken, and unable to defend myself? My heart raced at the thought, terror gripping me tighter than the fever ever could.

The world around me blurred, time twisting and swirling as a wave of hysteria began to creep into my mind. I tried to focus, tried to keep my thoughts from spiraling, but the effort felt futile.

Ben and Lilly...

Were they worried? Ben was practical, probably assuming I needed space, but Lilly—she would have noticed by now. I wondered if they thought I was dead, or maybe they had already settled in with the new girl and forgot about me.

Were they in the kitchen, chatting while Lilly teased Ben about the state of his dirty clothes when he came home? Or maybe Ben was at the cemetery, tending to the graves and slipping into the shed for a quick coffee to warm his hands.

Or perhaps they were just sitting quietly, not doing much at all. The thought tugged at something deep inside me, the longing to be there, to slip into those familiar moments.

In the last few months, I had started to feel like I belonged somewhere—a place where I fit in, where I mattered. Now, that comfort seemed so far away, like a dream slipping from my grasp.

I cupped my hand, scooping up a small pool of water before bringing it to my cracked, dry lips. It wasn't clean, but considering I could barely move, it was the only option left. The stale taste lingered in my mouth, doing little to ease the thirst that burned in my throat.

I lay back on the ground, staring up at the sky, trying to make sense of how this had happened. I'd been sick before, many times, but never like this. Never had a wound turned so viciously against me, infecting me so fast that I could feel it eating away at my strength. It amazed me how quickly it all unraveled.

I had done everything I could. I kept the gash clean, wrapped it tightly, and just yesterday, I'd even started to feel a little better.

But this morning... it hit me like the weight of a thousand rocks pressing down on my chest. Breathless, fatigued, helpless. Every inch of my body felt heavy, pinned to the earth as though it had already claimed me.

With my legs useless and my energy drained, my emotions were raw, bubbling up to the surface. Regret, mostly. Regret gnawed at me, twisting itself into my thoughts.

It was such a frustrating emotion—there was nothing I could do about it now, and yet it consumed me. How I wanted to crawl back to them.

Ben and Lilly... How foolish, how pitiful, to want something so simple. And yet, in this moment, I couldn't bring myself to care.

All I wanted was warmth—the kind these woods had never offered me. I craved affection, to be seen, to feel the presence of another human being. I sniffed as the thought crossed my mind, my chest tightening with grief. Was this it? Would I die here, alone, without ever feeling those things again?

A bitter smile tugged at my lips, the absurdity of it all creeping up on me. A deep sadness punched through my heart, so sharp it almost made me laugh.

I'd always known it might come to this, hadn't I? Dying alone in the woods—it was a fate I'd accepted long ago. Yet now, faced with that reality, it still shocked me, as if I hadn't seen it coming.

The fever clung to me like a heavy blanket, suffocating and relentless. Time became an abstract concept, slipping through my fingers.

I blinked up at the sky, trying to tell whether the darkness was thickening into night or lightening into dawn, but everything looked the same—shadowed, distorted, and unreal.

A sharp pain flared up my leg again, and I bit my lip to stifle a cry. My breaths came in shallow gasps, the fever worsening.

Each inhale felt like I was swallowing shards of glass, and every exhale took what little strength I had left. My vision blurred, the fever dancing on the edge of delirium. How long had I been here? Hours? Days? It all blended together.

That's when I saw it.

At first, I thought it was just a trick of the fever, a flicker in the corner of my eye. But as I forced my heavy eyes to focus, I realized it wasn't a hallucination. There—just beyond the trees, faint but unmistakable—a light. A flashlight. And then another.

The men. They were back.

Panic seized my body. I could hear their muffled voices, the snap of twigs underfoot as they moved closer. My heart pounded wildly in my chest, terror coursing through my veins. I had to move. I had to get away.

But I couldn't.

My legs felt like dead weight, pinned by the infection and fever. I tried to sit up, but the sharp pain in my calf sent me collapsing back onto the dirt.

I whimpered, biting down on the inside of my cheek to stay quiet. Tears of frustration welled in my eyes. They were coming for me. I didn't know why or what they wanted, but I knew one thing—I couldn't let them find me like this.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to move. With trembling hands, I began to drag myself across the ground, inch by agonizing inch. The cold dirt scraped against my skin, and every movement sent fresh waves of pain shooting through my leg. But I didn't care. I couldn't afford to care.

The riverbank was slick with mud, and I used it to my advantage, pulling my body with the last of my strength toward the thicket of bushes just a few feet away.

My vision was fading in and out, the world swaying like I was trapped in a dream. The sound of the men's footsteps grew louder, the beams of their flashlights slicing through the trees, sweeping across the ground as they searched.

I reached the edge of the river and collapsed for a moment, panting heavily. My entire body trembled as I glanced back.

The lights were closer now—too close. I couldn't stay here. Desperation took over as I dug my nails into the earth and pulled myself toward the cover of the thick branches and tall plants nearby. The mud beneath my hands was cold and slick, my body barely responsive as I slid into the tangled undergrowth.

Branches scratched at my arms and legs, and thorns tore at my skin, but I didn't stop. I dragged myself deeper, ignoring the sharp sting of the brambles until I was half-hidden beneath the foliage.

From my hiding spot, I watched the flashlights bobbing closer. The men were near the river now, their voices low but clear enough to send fresh terror through me.

"They still haven't found her yet, so she's definitely still here.," one of them muttered, the beam of his flashlight sweeping dangerously close to where I lay hidden.

I squeezed my eyes shut, praying they wouldn't notice the faint tracks I had left behind in the mud. My body was shaking, both from fear and the fever that was raging inside me. Every second felt like an eternity as I waited, listening to their footsteps growing louder, closer. The light swept over the bushes where I hid, and I held my breath.

Then, a pause.

One of the men grunted. "Maybe she moved downstream."

I didn't dare open my eyes.

"Could be. Let's check over there."

The footsteps shifted, the beams of light pulling away, and my heart soared with relief. But I didn't move. I didn't make a sound.

Their footsteps faded but never disappeared. I waited, listening to them walking down the embankment. I moved my neck to look at the weathered path toward the graveyard.

I stopped to listen again. They seemed far enough away...

I could make it.

I thought as I sized up the distance from where I was to the gate. If I could get to the shed, I could hide. They may not have found me yet, but if I stay here they are bound to at some point.

With trembling hands, I gripped the wet earth and began to drag myself forward again, inching through the mud as quietly as possible.

My fingers sank into the slick dirt, the squelch of mud clinging to my palms. Every inch was agonizing, each movement sending fresh spikes of pain through my infected leg, but I couldn't stop. Not now.

Air pressed down on me, thick and suffocating, mixing with the fever's heat. Sweat dripped from my brow as I hauled my body forward, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My muscles screamed for relief, my vision blurring, but I forced myself to focus. One hand in front of the other. Move. Don't stop.

A snap of a twig behind me froze me in place.

Panic flared in my chest as I pressed my body flat against the earth, barely daring to breathe. The snap was followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps, coming closer.

My heart pounded in my chest, loud and frantic, as if it would give me away. One of the men was moving toward me, the beam of his flashlight slicing through the darkness like a blade.

I bit down on my lip to stifle a whimper, tasting blood. The man's footsteps crunched against the underbrush as he drew closer, and I could hear his breathing—steady, calm.

I had to move. Now.

Using every ounce of strength I could muster, I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, crawling toward the nearest tree. The pain in my leg was unbearable, but I clenched my teeth and kept going, dragging my useless limb behind me as silently as I could.

Just as I reached the tree, the beam of his flashlight swept across the ground, coming dangerously close to where I'd been moments ago. My back pressed against the rough bark as I tried to make myself as small as possible, holding my breath.

"Did you hear that?" The man's voice cut through the night, low and suspicious.

My stomach lurched in terror. He had heard me. My fingers dug into the tree bark as I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to disappear.

"Probably just an animal," another voice called out from farther away. "She's long gone by now."

There was a pause—a long, agonizing silence that felt like it stretched for hours.

"Yeah... maybe," the first man muttered, though his tone was uncertain.

I dared a peek around the tree, my eyes following the beam of his flashlight as it wavered, then moved on, sweeping over the ground in a lazy arc. I watched him turn, his footsteps retreating as he followed the other man's lead, but I didn't move yet. My entire body was rigid, every muscle tight.

I waited until their voices faded again before I continued. The gate was so close now, barely ten feet away. If I could just get past it, into the cemetery, I'd have a better chance of losing them.

Summoning what little strength remained, I crawled forward again. My hands trembled as they pushed through the mud, my breath coming in short, shallow bursts.

I could feel the fever burning in my veins, the infection in my leg throbbing with each movement, but I forced myself to ignore it. Pain was secondary to survival now.

Just a few more feet.

I reached the edge of the clearing, my hand brushing against the cold metal of the gate. Relief surged through me, but it was short-lived. A sudden shout broke through the stillness, startling me.

"There! Did you see that?" One of the men yelled.

Panic exploded inside me as I realized they had spotted me. My heart raced, my body screaming at me to move faster, but I was at my limit. My legs were dead weight, the infection sapping my strength with each passing second. I couldn't outrun them. I knew that. But I could still hide.

With a desperate grunt, I hauled myself through the gate, ignoring the sharp bite of the rusted metal as it scraped my skin. I stumbled forward, collapsing onto the soft grass of the cemetery. My vision swam, but I forced myself to crawl again, toward the shadow of the old shed tucked between two large oak trees.

The men's footsteps thundered behind me now, the beams of their flashlights bouncing erratically as they ran toward the gate. I could hear them shouting orders, their voices blending into a chaotic mess, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. I was so close.

The shed loomed ahead, a dark, weathered structure barely visible through the thick undergrowth. I reached it just as the men's voices grew louder.

With one final burst of energy, I threw myself against the shed's door, fumbling with the handle before managing to wrench it open. The wood groaned in protest as I slipped inside, collapsing onto the cold, dusty floor.

I pressed my back against the wall, pulling the door shut as quietly as possible. My body trembled uncontrollably, my chest heaving as I fought to catch my breath. My leg throbbed, the infection pulsing with every beat of my heart, but I didn't care. I was hidden, at least for now.

From the tiny crack in the door, I could see the beams of the flashlights stop at the caution tape.

A sharp but quiet voice erupted, "Damn it, we can't go past this point."

Another voice cut in, "But we just saw-"

"Doesn't matter-" A short pause followed as they seemed to quiet their voices, "Fall back. We gotta get out of here."

The crunch of boots on the grass faded away into blissful silence. Adrenaline gave way to reprieve and found myself hunched over. Also sprawled on the floor. All the breath I had been holding the last hour.

Peaks of light through the cracks in the shed walls caught my attention. The sun was coming up.

Ben would be here soon.