Evelyn had no idea how long she'd been running.
Twenty minutes? An hour?
Long enough for the burning in her lungs to become a constant ache. Long enough for her legs to begin trembling beneath her. Long enough that every time she stumbled, getting back up became a little harder.
The boots weren't helping.
They were far too large, and the left one kept slipping at the heel. She'd tightened the laces as much as she could, but the heavy footwear still caught on roots and uneven ground.
She stumbled again.
Her injured wrist struck a tree trunk as she tried to catch herself.
Pain shot up her arm.
Evelyn bit back a cry and pressed her hand against her chest.
For several seconds, she stood there, breathing through clenched teeth.
Then she looked behind her.
Nothing.
Only trees.
She couldn't see the facility anymore. The explosions had faded some time ago, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the occasional crack of a branch beneath her boots.
She didn't know who had attacked Northstar.
She didn't know whether the fighting was over.
And she had no idea whether Catherine Reed was still alive.
The thought made her stomach tighten.
Part of her hoped Catherine was dead.
Another part immediately recoiled from it.
She'd never wished someone dead before.
Not seriously.
Now she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about it.
Evelyn pushed herself away from the tree and continued walking.
The short spear she'd taken from the dead guard was awkward to carry through the undergrowth. Every time she adjusted her grip, her wrist protested.
She considered leaving it behind.
Then remembered the laboratory.
The restraints.
The needle.
Catherine standing beside the examination bed, watching.
Evelyn tightened her grip on the shaft.
She kept walking.
***
The first sound came from somewhere to her left.
A distant crack.
Evelyn stopped.
Another crack followed.
A branch breaking beneath someone's foot.
She turned slowly.
Between the trees, perhaps a hundred metres away, something moved.
A flash of dark clothing.
Then a voice.
"...sector four. Nothing yet."
Her blood went cold.
Another voice answered, too distant for her to understand.
Evelyn dropped into a crouch.
The movement sent pain through her legs, but she barely noticed.
A fallen tree lay a few metres ahead. She scrambled behind it, lowering herself against the damp bark.
"...perimeter?"
"Negative. We're extending the sweep."
A beam of light moved between the trunks.
Evelyn pressed herself lower.
Her heart was hammering so hard she could feel it in her throat.
*Don't move.*
The light swept across a cluster of bushes.
Then moved away.
Footsteps approached.
Evelyn covered her mouth with her good hand.
She could hear them now.
Two men.
Maybe three.
"...tracks?"
"Too much disturbance. Could be anyone."
The voices were getting closer.
She slowly lowered herself onto her stomach.
Cold mud soaked through her trousers.
A pair of black boots appeared through a gap beneath the fallen trunk.
Northstar boots.
Evelyn stopped breathing.
For one terrible moment, she was back on the examination bed.
Leather around her wrists.
A needle approaching her arm.
Catherine watching.
Her body reacted before she could stop it.
Her muscles tightened. Her injured wrist jerked against the ground, sending another pulse of pain through her arm.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
*Please.*
*Please don't find me.*
One of the men stopped.
Evelyn could hear him breathing.
"Anything?"
"Nothing."
A pause.
"Command wants every possible route checked. Apparently the eastern wing's a complete mess."
"No kidding."
"Think anyone made it out?"
"From that?"
A short laugh.
"Wouldn't bet on it."
The boots shifted.
Footsteps retreated.
The beam of light disappeared between the trees.
Evelyn didn't move.
She couldn't.
Even after the voices faded, she remained pressed against the ground, terrified that the slightest movement would bring them back.
Eventually, the forest fell silent.
She waited longer.
Then slowly rolled onto her back.
Her hands were shaking.
So were her legs.
She stared up through the branches, trying to breathe normally.
They had been so close.
A few steps.
One glance in the wrong direction.
And she would have been back in Northstar's hands.
Back with Catherine.
Back on that bed.
Her throat tightened.
She pressed her good hand over her mouth.
For a moment, she thought she might be sick.
Instead, she forced herself to sit up.
She needed to move.
Before they came back.
***
The afternoon gradually slipped away as Evelyn pushed deeper into the forest.
She tried to keep moving in a consistent direction, but the terrain made it difficult. Fallen trees forced her to change course. Dense patches of undergrowth sent her around obstacles she couldn't see through.
More than once, she realized she'd been walking in a different direction than she'd intended.
She had no compass.
No map.
No phone.
She didn't even know where Northstar had taken her.
The facility could have been fifty kilometres from Manchester.
Or a hundred.
For all she knew, she was somewhere in Scotland.
The thought made her stop.
She looked around.
Trees.
More trees.
Nothing that offered the slightest clue.
She swallowed and continued walking.
Eventually, she heard water.
A narrow stream appeared between the trees, trickling over stones and disappearing beneath a cluster of ferns.
Evelyn approached it cautiously.
Her throat felt painfully dry.
She crouched beside the water.
It looked clear.
She knew that meant very little.
There could be bacteria. Parasites. Any number of things she couldn't see.
She had no bottle, no filter, and no way to boil it.
Her gaze drifted toward her injured wrist.
She had Toxin Resistance now.
Perhaps that would help.
Perhaps it wouldn't.
The idea of discovering the answer by becoming violently ill wasn't particularly appealing.
But neither was continuing without water.
Evelyn cupped a little in her good hand and drank.
It was cold enough to make her teeth ache.
She waited.
Nothing happened.
She drank again.
Then splashed water over her face, carefully washing away some of the dried blood near her hairline.
Her wrist was worse.
The skin was red and raw where she'd burned through the leather restraint. Several blisters had formed, and even small movements sent sharp pains through her arm.
She held it beneath the cool water.
For a moment, the relief was almost overwhelming.
She closed her eyes.
Then withdrew her hand.
The pain returned almost immediately. This story is hosted at g.com.
Evelyn stared at the injury.
She'd died five times.
Five times, her body had rebuilt itself.
And yet a burn she had inflicted while still alive remained exactly where it was.
She couldn't heal herself.
Not unless she died.
The realization made her stomach turn.
For a moment, she caught herself considering it.
One more death.
One more resurrection.
A new wrist.
No pain.
She pulled her hand against her chest.
"No."
The word came out sharply.
She wasn't doing that.
Not again.
Not voluntarily.
Evelyn stood and moved away from the stream.
She was still thirsty, still hungry, and her wrist still hurt.
But she was alive.
For now, that would have to be enough.
***
By the time she heard the engines, the light beneath the trees had begun to fade.
The forest had taken on a grey, colourless appearance. Shadows gathered between the trunks, and the air felt colder.
Evelyn stopped.
An engine.
Then another.
She moved carefully toward the sound until she could make out a narrow road through the trees.
Two dark vehicles passed.
One after the other.
She couldn't see any markings.
The second slowed near a junction.
Evelyn dropped behind a cluster of bushes.
A door opened.
Voices carried through the evening air.
She couldn't understand what they were saying.
Then came a faint electronic chirp.
Someone was using a device.
Her heart began hammering.
She lowered herself farther into the undergrowth.
The voices continued for perhaps a minute.
Then the door closed.
The engine accelerated.
Both vehicles disappeared.
Evelyn remained hidden until she could no longer hear them.
Only then did she try to stand.
Her legs nearly gave out.
She caught herself against a tree.
For several seconds, she couldn't straighten.
Her body had reached its limit.
Every muscle hurt. Her feet were blistered inside the oversized boots, and her stomach cramped with hunger.
She couldn't remember when she'd last eaten a proper meal.
The food Catherine had given her seemed impossibly distant now.
Catherine.
The name alone made her grip tighten against the bark.
Evelyn stared at the ground.
Five times.
She'd died five times.
Daniel's knife.
Idris's fire.
Poison.
Electricity.
Fire again.
She remembered every one of them.
Not perfectly. Some moments blurred together, and parts of the pain were difficult to put into words.
But she remembered enough.
Far too much.
Her eyes burned.
She wanted to go home.
The thought came so suddenly that she nearly started crying.
Home.
Her room.
Her bed.
Lucy complaining about something trivial.
Her mother asking whether she'd eaten.
Normal things.
Things she'd taken for granted.
She pressed her forehead against the tree.
For a few seconds, she allowed herself to imagine it.
Then she remembered the people who had gone to her family's house.
The stolen photographs.
The threats.
The fact that anyone close to her could become a target simply because they knew her.
She couldn't go home.
Not now.
Perhaps not ever.
Evelyn stood there until the cold began creeping through her clothes.
Then she forced herself to move.
The last daylight was disappearing.
She needed somewhere to hide before the forest became completely dark.
***
She found the shed just before nightfall.
At first, she almost walked past it.
A section of weathered wooden wall was barely visible behind a curtain of ivy and brambles. The roof sagged slightly, and moss covered the lower boards.
An old forestry shed.
Or perhaps a storage building.
Evelyn stopped and listened.
Nothing.
She approached slowly, holding the spear in front of her.
The door hung crookedly from its hinges.
She nudged it open with the spear's tip.
The hinges creaked.
She flinched.
Waited.
Nothing moved inside.
She pushed the door farther open.
The interior was dark, but enough fading daylight entered through a filthy window for her to make out an old workbench, several empty shelves, a broken chair, and a rusted bucket.
No people.
No obvious signs of recent use.
She stepped inside.
The floorboards creaked beneath her boots.
Evelyn froze again.
Then slowly exhaled.
The shed smelled of damp timber and old earth. Water had leaked through part of the roof, leaving dark stains along one wall.
But the opposite corner appeared dry.
She checked behind the workbench.
Under the shelves.
Every shadow she could reach with the spear.
Nothing.
Finally, she returned to the door.
It wouldn't latch properly.
She dragged the broken chair across the floor and wedged it beneath the handle.
It wasn't much.
Anyone determined to get inside could probably force the door open.
But it might make enough noise to warn her.
Evelyn stepped back and examined her work.
The chair wobbled slightly.
She adjusted it.
Then checked again.
Still not particularly convincing.
It would have to do.
Outside, the last light was fading.
Within minutes, the forest beyond the dirty window became a wall of darkness.
Evelyn stood in the middle of the shed, listening.
The wind moved through the trees.
Somewhere outside, an animal rustled through the undergrowth.
She tightened her grip on the spear.
Nothing approached.
No voices.
No searchlights.
No footsteps.
For the first time since escaping Northstar, she had stopped moving.
And now that she had, she could feel how badly her body was suffering.
Her legs trembled.
Her injured wrist throbbed.
Her feet felt raw inside the boots.
She was cold, hungry, and so exhausted that keeping her eyes open required effort.
She looked toward the dry corner.
A pile of old canvas lay against the wall.
She inspected it, shook out the worst of the dust, and lowered herself onto it.
The material was stiff and smelled unpleasant.
She barely cared.
She placed the spear beside her, within reach of her good hand.
The boots stayed on.
If she had to run, she couldn't afford to waste time putting them back on.
She leaned against the wall.
The timber was cold.
She adjusted her position, trying to keep pressure off her wrist.
She couldn't sleep.
Not here.
Not when search parties might still be looking for her.
She needed to stay awake.
She needed to listen.
She needed—
Her eyes closed.
She opened them again.
The room seemed to sway.
She blinked.
Just a moment.
She could rest for a moment.
Evelyn pulled her knees toward her chest and rested her head against the wall.
Her thoughts became disjointed.
Catherine.
The laboratory.
The searchlights.
Lucy's face.
The sound of the needle tray.
She jerked slightly.
Opened her eyes.
The door was still closed.
The chair remained in place.
She exhaled.
Then her eyes closed again.
This time, they stayed closed.
***
Evelyn woke with a violent jerk.
Her hand shot toward the spear.
Pain exploded through her injured wrist.
"Ah—!"
She scrambled backward, striking her shoulder against the wall.
For one terrible second, she didn't know where she was.
The laboratory?
The cell?
The examination bed?
She looked wildly around.
Wooden walls.
A workbench.
The broken chair wedged beneath the door.
The shed.
She was in the shed.
Alone.
Her breathing came in short, ragged gasps.
She stared at the door.
Nothing moved.
No voices.
No footsteps.
No guards.
No Catherine.
Slowly, Evelyn lowered the spear.
Then she noticed the light.
Pale morning sunlight filtered through the filthy window, illuminating the dust hanging in the air.
Evelyn stared.
*No.*
She pushed herself upright.
Her muscles protested.
*No, no, no.*
It was morning.
She'd fallen asleep.
Not for a few minutes.
Not even for a few hours.
She'd slept through the entire night.
She looked toward the door again.
The broken chair was still there.
The room was empty.
Nobody had entered.
Nobody had found her.
Nobody had dragged her back to Northstar.
She stood in the middle of the shed, breathing hard.
"Shit."
Her voice was barely audible.
"I fell asleep."
No one had been watching.
No one had been protecting her.
If a search party had found the shed, she might never have woken up until it was too late.
If someone had opened the door—
She stopped.
Her thoughts were spiralling.
Again.
She pressed her good hand against her forehead.
She was alive.
She was still here.
Nothing had happened.
Evelyn looked around the room once more, as though expecting that to change.
It didn't.
The shed remained exactly as she'd left it.
Dusty.
Damp.
Empty.
She slowly sank back onto the canvas.
Her heart was still racing.
She waited for it to settle.
It took a while.
Eventually, she leaned her head against the wall.
A strange thought occurred to her.
She'd slept.
Actually slept.
Without waking up tied to something.
Without someone standing over her.
Without being dragged somewhere.
Without dying.
It should have felt normal.
Instead, it felt almost impossible.
She stared at the ceiling.
A small, bitter laugh escaped her.
She'd reached the point where waking up alive counted as a pleasant surprise.
*What a wonderful life.*
The thought wasn't particularly funny.
She didn't laugh again.
Her stomach growled.
Evelyn looked down.
She was still hungry.
Still injured.
Still wearing a dead man's boots.
Still being hunted by practically everyone on Earth.
But she was alive.
And for the moment, nobody knew where she was.
She sat quietly for a long time.
Listening.
Thinking.
Trying not to think.
Outside, birds had begun calling to one another, and the morning sunlight slowly crept across the dusty floor.
Evelyn pulled her knees toward her chest.
Her wrist throbbed.
Her stomach cramped.
And for the first time in days, she had enough silence to hear her own thoughts.
That turned out to be considerably less comforting than she'd expected.
Because there was a question waiting beneath all the fear.
One she hadn't allowed herself to consider while running.
*What now?*
She stared at the opposite wall.
She couldn't stay here forever.
She had no food.
No supplies.
No proper clothes.
No way to contact Lucy.
And absolutely no idea what she was supposed to do next.
She looked down at her hands.
One injured.
One trembling.
Both hers.
Still hers.
After everything.
Her gaze drifted toward the empty space in front of her.
The System was always there.
Waiting.
Ready to answer questions about skills and attributes and whatever else it considered important.
She'd avoided looking at it since escaping.
Partly because she hadn't had time.
Mostly because she didn't want to see another reminder of what had happened to her.
But perhaps it was time.
Evelyn took a slow breath.
"Status."
A familiar translucent window appeared before her.
Its pale light illuminated the dim shed.
Evelyn stared at it.
And for the first time since Northstar, she allowed herself to look at what she'd become.