The crunch of the snow was too loud. Yes, they could see my footprints, but they’d have to find what direction I went first. That would be easy to do when I’m clomping though the barren forest like a deer drunk on rotten apples.
There had to be a way, I had to have a chance somehow. They could see me through the winter trees, they can hear me on the snow, hell they could probably smell me on the wind. The lake. I could try the ice on the lake, it’s thick enough this time of year. It would be slow, but I could try moving like I was on skates.
I remembered that the northern side of the slopes nearest the lake tended to be slippery, something to usually avoid but I could use to my advantage, dropping down to slide. Would they know to do this, or would they run at the slope too fast and be surprised by the treacherous drop? I could hope, maybe they navigate the woods by instinct rather than reason, they seemed more like animals, not rational enough to maintain a mental map of potential dangers in the woods.
That could be my advantage, my reason, my logic. I don’t jump to act with blind passion like they do, I’m not prone to fits of rage that cloud my ability to perceive. This could be my saving grace. I could run them through treacherous areas, navigating them safely, using my reason, my human advantage.
“There he is, the foul child murderer. He’s headed for the ice slopes.”
“Good, the weakest part of the lake’s surface is there. It is warmed by the current from the city’s drainage. He will break the ice with his fall. We will be on him in seconds.”
We ran, amazed at the foolishness of humans who considered themselves woodsmen, who hunt the innocent for sport and call us monsters.
P.S. – I am madly in love with my new book idea, so spending less time wondering about interesting blog posts and continuing the zombie flash thing is probably a trend that will continue for a while.