Page 5 of Hunt Me (The Skulls #1)

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Fauna

I stumble down the dark tunnel pushed forward by the force of bigfoot's boot on my back.

What a fucking dick head.

Luckily, this floor is dry, higher than the one we just ran down. The tunnel is slightly darker, dimly lit by one drain further ahead.

I turn around, looking back to where I was running down seconds ago. The murky brown water ripples as whoever is out there fighting with the Skull splashes around.

The sound of a body crashes to the ground.

A scream comes next, a woman’s by the sounds of it.

I shrug turning around.

Looks like the oh so big and strong man has it covered.

My feet are moving forwards with a skip in my step before I know it.

Two problems dealt with in one shit stained tunnel.

Isla will be in hysterics when I return and tell her all about it.

I chance a sniff at myself, my nostrils burning with how bad I smell, and I decide to wash myself down before I return to the school.

Lightly humming to myself, I question why the Skull helped me.

Yes, my back and wrist ache thanks to the force he used by booting me down here, but he got me out of the way.

It was like he considered my safety or maybe I’m delusional (likely) and he just wanted me out of the way so he could get the glory.

I mean it was pretty fucking forceful. But maybe the fantasy voice in my head is right, maybe he was wanting me out the way in a considerate way, like wanting me safe.

Wow. The apocalypse has made my standards low.

Mad Jane’s voice trickles in my ear like a bad smell reminding me how they like to play with their victims, like a predator playing with its prey.

I push my previous thought to the side and I settle on the fact that he probably wanted me all to himself for whatever sick game he wants to play and that is that.

A shiver runs through me as I glance backwards, back to where I know he is fighting. Not wasting another second, I move into a slight jog, making a break for it and putting as much space between me and the psychopaths behind me.

The air is colder through this tunnel thanks to a slight breeze bringing in fresher air. At the end there is a flickering light again.

Please, apocalypse God’s be another drain — maybe one with a perfectly sized opening especially for me and not another bloody fire.

I round the corner and my blood runs cold as I smack into a wet body. My throat closes as putrid flesh flaking from a goblin-like man overwhelms my senses.

I retch.

He sneers, saliva spitting from his cracked lips.

‘Mmmm,’ his eyes flick up and down my body. ‘Pretty, pretty, pretty.’

He steps closer, reaching a mangled hand up to my face.

I jump back making sure to angle myself around the corner.

‘Pretty wanna play?’ He sneers as annoyance spreads across his features at my sudden movement.

‘No thanks,’ my voice is sickly sweet. ‘Kinda busy, maybe another time?’ I bat my eyelashes as I school my features into complete innocence.

His expression is not one of acceptance, and for every step I take backwards, he closes the gap with one step closer.

‘Mmm,’ he licks his lips.

A pale light glints across something metallic in his hand. He watches as I look down at the jagged weapon in his hold. His eyes look back up at me, and he grins wider, then lunges.

My weight shifts to my left, tiptoeing out of his way and narrowly missing his strike.

He grunts in frustration, stumbling to right himself from where he’d missed me as I silently move behind him. My palm grasps the shaft of my bat dangling from my belt, securing my hold on it as I release it from its holster.

I swing at his legs in time as he turns to face me.

He yelps as his kneecap shatters and he hits the concrete floor, his leg not strong enough to hold him upright.

I swing again connecting with his ribs, sending him flying back like some comedy sketch as he lands flat on his back.

His head thumps the floor, the noise echoing around us.

I bring the bat up one final time. Realisation floods his face as his eyes widen with fear.

He shakes his head, mumbling incoherent sounds.

Then I bring my bat straight down connecting with his crotch.

Something pops and I really hope it’s his balls.

His screams are a much louder pitch now as they echo around us, bouncing off the tunnel walls.

I laugh.

Splashing steps sound from the tunnel the Skull was in.

I grip my bat, listening, waiting.

Only one set of footsteps.

I release the breath I was holding as the Skull comes sprinting towards me, those white eyes wide and searching. His axes are raised, dripping with fresh blood. If I didn’t know better, I’d mistake this look for concern.

He stops as he sees me standing over the whimpering fool beneath me. Those green eyes take him in then flick up to me as he lowers his axes.

‘What…’ he asks sounding short of breath.

I wink.

Typical, he heard a squealing idiot and assumed it was me.

Fucking men.

‘Oh, I’m sorry. Did I ruin your knight in shining armour look?

’ I ask, beginning to get pissed off. ‘I can always go find some more of these…’ I wave my bat at the body wailing and clutching his balls, ‘I’m sure there’s way more down here for you to save me from. ’ I bat my eyelashes, twirling my bat.

Whatever look of surprise was on his face a minute ago has been replaced by a dark look in his eyes as he begins walking forward to wipe the blood from his weapons on the sniffling man, who is still crying and clutching his balls.

‘So she can use that thing,’ nodding to my bat. ‘Noted.’

‘You really think I’d be walking around alone this many years later not knowing how to use a weapon?’ I ask both intrigued and annoyed that he assumes so little of me.

‘Wouldn’t be the first,’ I catch him muttering.

I’m the one to scoff now. ‘You’re an ignorant fuck, you know that.’

I turn my back on him, stepping around the corner of my dry tunnel to escape him. My temper rising as I can’t help but let his assumptions get to me.

In an attempt to distract my rising anger, I return to the flickering light that caught my eye before. In getting closer, I can now see a hole halfway up the wall with bricks littering the floor around it.

I breathe deeply filling my lungs with the fresh breeze.

‘A way out,’ speaks the rough voice of the Skull.

I sigh. What a bright one he is.

He strides past me, crouching beneath the opening, cupping his hands, ‘let’s go then little deer.’

I cross my arms. There is no chance I’m going anywhere with this nut job. And there is absolutely no way in hell I am letting him help me.

‘Did I or did I not just see you smash up a guy's balls there? With the same weapon you are still swinging about in that pissed off fist of yours?’ He nods to my bat.

‘What’s your point?’ I snap.

‘Well it’s not like you’re some defenceless princess that needs a knight in shining armour right?’ He air quotes and I don’t miss the way he is throwing my earlier statement back at me.

Any protests I have are cut short by the sound of distant splashing.

I assess my current options — There’s one Skull who allegedly is an unhinged murderer, yet seemingly does not want to immediately off me. Or who knows how many twisted sewage dwellers charging towards us. Really there’s no choice unless I want to embrace death.

I sheath my bat and the Skull makes a noise, sounding satisfied with himself.

I remind myself that I can hit him with my bat when we are outside of the tunnel.

My steps are fast as they run towards the crumbling wall, and he braces, cupping his hand out below him, but I ignore it.

My boots hit brick as I kick off the wall and stretch up, catching the sharp, jagged edge of the opening.

I pull, hauling myself up, and kick up a leg, hooking it onto the flat surface and using my strength to make it through the opening before rolling over onto my side.

Two calloused hands land on the brick, and the same plain skull mask comes into view from the tunnels' dark shadows. He shifts through the opening and crouches next to me, leaning forward.

A feeling of familiarity washes over me, and I get lost in it. But just as quickly as it came, it disappears as a hand comes into my eyesight, snapping me out of my wandering thoughts.

‘Let’s get cleaned up,’ he says as he holds a hand to help me to my feet. And I can’t help but notice how gentler his grip is now compared to before.