Her leg had healed slowly and painfully, forcing her to spend two full weeks at a farmhouse just south of the hunting lodge. She was glad the morphine had only held out for the first six days. Any more than that might have turned her into a junkie. Almost had anyway, she thought, still wanting that liquid gold buzz, even though normal Tylenol was controlling the pain.
Traveling was hard though, and she had only been able to keep going because of the cart she'd found in a shed behind a vandalized golf course. She had been back on the road for almost a week now and still wasn't sure if it had been hunger driving the wolves, or something else. The way they'd tracked her, surrounded her, and waited for the storm's cover, implied organization.
"Almost like they planned it," she muttered lowly, pulling her trench coat closer as the last of the muddy jeeps fell out of her view that was distorted by the light rain on the dirty glass, and the tier of dark Hanukah candles that would stay that way forever. "They were the hunted before. Now they're the hunters."
Her words, spoken quietly, disturbed the occupants of the dank basement that she hadn't noticed when she'd quickly limped down the steep wooden steps, seeking refuge from the large group of obviously dangerous men. Suddenly, Sam realized her safe shelter wasn't so safe.
There was movement in the corner and she froze, heart thudding. A soft slither around a cobweb-covered ceiling beam - long and drawn out as it slid closer, another ripple of movement along the floor, a dark, weaving shadow under the inches of water - and Sam's paralysis broke. She had to get out of here!
Staying low, Sam swung the sharpened walking stick in front of her as she limped to the steps, able to feel the snakes gliding toward her from above. There was no hissing, no noises except for hers, and it was menacing.
Samantha took the steep stairs two at a time, seeing another, larger snake coming from behind the wooden steps and she lunged up the last three.
Unable to stifle a cry as she rolled, she lost her cane, her bad leg taking the brunt of her weight.
The air moved near her head, and she rolled again, hitting the wall. On her feet a second later, Sam quickly limped to the door, not able to see anything following, but sure the hungry reptiles were there.
The feeling was gone as she moved through the heavily-decorated front door, but she didn't slow as the rain pelted her, only slid her goggles over haunted blue eyes. The ghost town around her was silent, smoking heavily in places, and Sam wondered if the fallout that was changing nature's routines and habits, was also affecting the people.