I wonder if it was the root or the rock in my back that woke me up. Pain shoots down my side as I work myself into a sitting position. I blink swollen eyes as I try to take in my surroundings.

Dry leaves cover the forest floor, weeds stick out in between my legs, and the tree branches cover the sky like a canopy. The sun is rising, turning the light around me red and yellow.

When did I fall asleep in the middle of the woods? I can't remember. Last night is a dim blur in my mind. I ran after Billy's friend fired shots and I didn't slow down for a long time. It was dark when I finally stumbled to a stop—it's blank after that. Judging from the stiffness and soreness in my shoulders and back, I must have been sleeping for hours.

Stretching my aching muscles, I force myself to my feet. I readjust the cloak on my shoulders and brush the forest dirt off. My hand reaches into the satchel at my side and come out with a small loaf of flattened bread. A depressed sigh blows out of my mouth before I bite into the crusty edges, the bread crackling as my teeth sinks into the baked flour.

Have to get some real food, no way around that. I should be far enough away from home that I'm able to walk into the next town without being bothered. I've been lost in the woods before so I have learned how to navigate my way in and out of the trees. The sound of my feet crunching leaves make it easy to track me, but there's not much I can do about that.

It's not long before I stroll into the hole in the dirt town of Laurin. It makes my home town look like a metropolis. Paranoia forces me to pull the hood down over my hair to shield my face. I keep my eyes trained to the ground while my boots send dust clouds into the air. I climb the steps into the general store, almost cutting my finger on a splinter sticking out of the side of the door. 

An old man sitting on a stool behind the counter, probably the owner, looks up at me. He narrows his eyes and mutters something about strange characters always wandering into his shop. I grab as much bread and fruit as I can carry in my arms. He doesn't have much in the way of meat, but right before I go to the front of the store I see some beef jerky and take as much of that as I can. I drop the items on the counter in front of the old man.

He stares at the hood obstructing the full view of my face. "Hiding a nasty scar, young man?"

My hand goes up to lightly tug on the hood to make sure it's in place. "That's none of your business. I'm here to buy this stuff, not talk to you."

"Alright, young man, alright. There's a lot of strange folks blowing in and out of this town nowadays. Doesn't hurt to ask questions."

He doesn't know how wrong he is about that. Asking questions could get me killed. He gives me the total, I gruffly thank and pay him, and get out as quick as I can. I'm about to blow the town altogether when my eyes land on the chipped painted, rotting sign that reads: Mickey's Bar.

The muscles in my body go rigid and my feet still in their tracks. My throat goes uncomfortably dry, I swallow trying to soothe it, but it doesn't help. Just one wouldn't hurt, it would probably help my nerves. No, you idiot. Drinking has caused you enough trouble, hasn't it?

Yeah, but I have control. I need one, just one. The first voice wins out and I drag into the saloon. Cigar smoke and the smell of stale liquor hits my nose, churning my near empty stomach. Slow notes croon out of the self-playing piano as a lone saloon girl is laying across it. A pitiful little stage looks out on a cluster of empty tables and chairs. It's too early for many patrons, just a few men talking at the bar and one drunk derelict. 

I sit on a stool on the opposite end from the group of men and wait for the bartender to notice me.

"What will it be, kid?" he asks once he comes over.

I shrug, feeling tired. "Doesn't matter." He copies my shrug and mixes something up. He sits it in front of me and I watch the foam lazily fizzle to the counter. I take the glass against my palm. The lukewarm temperature sends warm shivers through my fingertips. Pulling the liquor over to me, I stare down into the still surface of the beer. I can make out my reflection a little.

Does Mother know about the man in the field? She must by now. How was upset was she? If she didn't agree with Father about me being a disappointment she does now.

I don't have the right to feel sorry for myself. Sure, killing him was an accident, but I'm still a murderer. And with a dead man on my conscious all I can do is drink—the reason I'm in this mess. If Mason could see me right now, he would wish he didn't help me. He wasted his time, and I'm too selfish to change.

Somehow, I can't lift the glass and bring it to my mouth. I want to, my throat and the rest of my body yells at me to drink it, but my chest burns every time I bend my elbow.

Finally, after sitting there nearly fifteen minutes I push the cup of beer away from me. Like I really need to be drunk while running from the law. Besides on an empty stomach I'd probably be sick in the woods. Setting a few coins on the table, to pay for the drink, I stand up to leave.

"Hey, you boy."

Taken off guard I swing around to look at the speaker with the gruff voice. He's a middle-aged man with a fresh cut across his cheek and a crooked nose that's probably been broken more times than he can count. He's sitting amidst the men at the bar and they've all gone silent to listen to him talk to me.

"Aren't you Silver's boy?"

It feels like someone dropped ice down both my boots. I tilt my head forward so that the hood covers more of my face. Is he a friend of Father's? He knows a lot of people from being the mayor.

Shaking my head, I make my voice deeper just in case he recognizes it. "No. My last name is...Pete." I mentally curse myself for letting Mason always be the one to make stuff up for me.

The man stands to his feet. He's very...big. "Really, 'Pete'?" He knows I'm lying. He hawks a thick wad of spit at the wooden floor boards and I swear I can hear hit the ground beneath the saloon. "What a coincidence you look just like Mayor Silver's son, Zeke I think his name is. But you ain't him, right? Cause it would be real bad for ya if you were. See last night a pal told me that it was Zeke Silver that killed my brother Billy."

My fingers curl around the stool in front of me for support. Not at all helping with my "not guilty" case.

"And if I ever found that coward Silver, I'd break his skinny neck and send his teeth to his father in a package."

I'm pretty fond of my teeth so I take a step back.

"But just to be sure, you better take off that hood, boy." Billy's brother orders, his eyes narrowing. I see his fingers flinch at his side, a sign he wants to reach for the gun in his hip holster.

"Uh," is my street-smart response.

The man approaches and stops close enough for me to smell the liquor coming from his pores. "What's wrong, boy? You're not him, you're Pete. You ain't got nothing to fear. So, take off the hood." He reaches for the top of my head.

Panic floods through me like a tidal wave, knocking away any common sense. I guess that's why I pick up the glass of beer from the table and toss it into his eyes. Listening to his cries of pain and rage would have made me feel good, if I hadn't been running like a hunted animal. I burst through the saloon door shoulders first, almost falling onto the sidewalk. I right myself and jump to the ground, taking off for the woods away from Laurin.

Angry shouting and curses follow me as Billy's brother and his friends take up the chase. Several shots fire, some whistle a safe distance from my head, and others hit the dirt behind me. If it it's Billy's brother I guess it's a good thing I burned his eyes so that he can't see where he's aiming.

I crash into the woods, snapping twigs and scratching my arms and neck on low hanging branches. I wouldn't be fast enough to climb a tree and hide up there. I run up an incline, it gives me the advantage of being able to see some of the land. About a thousand feet from here is a clump of bushes partially hidden by small trees. If I can get there without being seen it'll give me a fighting chance to use the gun Mason gave me if it comes down to a shootout.

The sound of the men grow louder. Billy's brother yells for me to stop so he can strangle me with my own spine. No thanks.

I jump from the incline and though I almost twist my ankle, I don't slow as I run full speed to the hiding place I saw.

That's when I trip over the girl.

~

A/N: Vote and comment, please! I get the feeling this book kinda sucks lol, but it's a learning experience and I'm going to stick with it.