With Petra Underbridge gone it was easier for Hazel to discuss her escape plan with the doctor. Germaine still delivered her food from time to time, and gave her orders whenever something changed, however he spent most of his time avoiding her. Hazel believed Germaine felt responsible for what his sister had done to her. She watched him from time to time; for a man with such a heavy build he was quite peaceful – at least, Hazel wanted to believe so. He would never hurt or insult her the way Petra did, but his intentions were just the same. I can never trust him, Hazel decided. But I can rely on his gentle nature when I make my escape… I hope.
She waited until the caravan passed close to the base of Mount Khallem. Here, the terrain was rocky and riddled with caves and gullies. It was easy to get lost in this dry rocky maze, which should make Germaine think twice before pursuing her; although, she had to make it there first. She knew that if she delayed a few more days she would miss her chance and the caravan would travel once again in the open desert.
That night she ventured from her tent to her usual check-up with the doctor. There was a quarter moon and the stars were broken by a jagged layer of clouds; a dim night only to be illumined by the guards’ torches and a few campfires. Hazel eyes grazed over the camp. Some people were sound asleep and those not on guard or look-out duty were quietly drinking by the fires. A man was singing:
Oh my merry Sally are you waitin’ now?
Couple weeks o’ fightin’ I’ll be comin’ down,
Made a pretty penny on the Devil’s Pass,
So don’t you go a runnin’ now…
Oh my merry Sally where you runnin’ to?
Couple weeks o’ fightin’ I’ll come an’ get you,
Spent a pretty penny down in Eden town,
But don’t you go a runnin’ now…
As always Hazel’s two guards shadowed her on her way to the doctor. She entered the tent and found the doctor preparing a remedy; for a medical man his hands were awfully jittery this night, and his skin was so pale that Hazel thought he might be sick. He told her not to worry. “I understand your will to escape but as your doctor I must advise against it. I don’t need to tell you the dangers of travelling alone though the desert, and in your condition – you haven’t properly recovered—”
“I’ll be fine,” Hazel gently assured him. “You’ve done so much for me already. I won’t ever forget this.”
The doctor sighed. “In that case, take this, it’ll reduce any symptoms should they return.”
“Thank you. If there is nothing else, we should go.”
The doctor collected his pistol from a chest and gave it to Hazel, and then she took him by the arm and wedged the nuzzle into the small of his back. “Good luck,” he said, before calling the guards.
The guards stormed in immediately and Hazel raised the pistol to the doctor’s temple. “Don’t move,” she demanded, “or you’ll be needing a new doctor. Drop your swords in front of me…” They unbuckled their sword belts and tossed them to the floor. “And your pistols – uh, left hand, nice and easy now.” She ordered the doctor to tie them up and cover their heads, and then she stepped outside – no one had noticed.
The horses were in a line not far from her and they were unguarded. Hazel slipped a saddle on one of the mares and rubbed her neck. “Shhhh…” she whispered. “Quiet girl or you’ll get us caught.”
Hazel mounted and the doctor said his goodbyes. “As soon as you leave the lookouts will see you. Don’t stop until you’ve reached the cover of the mountain. Ride hard and fast, and take your medicine…”
“Thank you.” Hazel smiled nervously and the doctor nodded and stepped back. Hazel flicked the reins and sped off, and the sound of hooves clashing against the ground caused many a stir, however no one awoke until the lookout shouted. “We got a rogue! Looks like that woman!”
In the night she was just a purple blur speeding across the desert, but when the clouds parted and the light glazed down one could see the outline of her back and the flick of her hair. The arid mountain she was heading to was sinister and ominous in the dark, like a shadowy creature about to devour her.
With no one to deliver orders as Hazel fled further away from him, the lookout raised his rifle and took aim. The shot was difficult but he was sure he could hit her mare’s flanks and stop her. He took a breath, cocked his rifle and squeezed the trigger…
“No!” A swift hand emerged and took the rifle by the barrel, raising towards the sky as the shot was fired over Hazel’s frightened head. Germaine Underbridge yanked the weapon from his lookout and scowled. “You idiot! At night from that angle you would have hit her!” He raised his head and watched Hazel’s shadow fade with the desert sands and merge with the rocky terrain of the mountain. “You can’t run, woman.”
After nearly being shot Hazel found that her hands were trembling. Come one Hazel, it’s not like you haven’t been shot at before. But she placed a hand on her stomach and knew that this time was different. She was certain that Germaine had mounted up and was in pursuit by now. What’s worse, the ground was becoming uneven and hazardous, and she was forced to reduce to a canter or risk injuring her horse. At last she came to a narrow underpass where it was so dark that she was forced to dismount and feel her way through. I can’t go much further like this. I can barely see. She travelled a little further and then hid herself away in a small cave. Here, she waited for daylight.
Hazel awoke to the sound of rocks clattering down the cliff-side and a number of distant voices. She jolted up and almost banged her head on a rock. I fell asleep! The sun pounded down on the desert without mercy as Hazel emerged from her cave, leading the mare and creeping forward little by little. There was something eerie about this terrain – there were so many shadows and caverns, high areas and low areas. Hazel could always hear the voices of her pursuers echoing through the canyons. She sensed that there were footsteps behind her but would turn to find nothing. I’m being chased by ghosts!
She carried on for over an hour, as quiet as a mouse, although she wished she had muffled her mare’s hooves. She was afraid that she was still being followed. Once she even looked up and thought she saw a man and a horse on the precipice, silhouetted against the sky, but she blinked and he was gone. When it was quieter she stopped and climbed one of the rocky terraces to get her bearings. From her vantage point she could see Germaine’s camp packing up in the distance, but no sign of Germaine or his men. Thank goodness there were less of them.
Hazel wasn’t prepared for the ambush that awaited her when she returned to the ground. As she approached her horse she was snatched by two invisible hands and suddenly the pungent aroma of wine filled her nostrils. She recognised the man as one of Germaine’s, and another crept out from behind a rock and shouted, “Here! We have her!”
Hazel screamed and struggled, slamming her elbow into her captors nose and then spinning around and shooting him in the arm. She turned and fired a shot into the other man’s thigh and he collapsed on it and howled like a dog. Hazel tucked her gun away and stood for a moment in shock. If they didn’t know where I was before they sure as hell do now. Move. Move!
She pounced onto her mare and took off like a bullet, kicking up dust and rocks in her wake. Meanwhile, Germaine Underbridge had heard the shots and took up his rifle to meet her. He found himself atop the terrace where she had been standing and saw that she had made for open ground, riding north-east towards the Green Road. She was far however he was a good shot. “I won’t hit her,” he murmured, as he raised the sights to his eyes. He took a deep breath, his sights locked, and then he fired. The sound clashed through the desert like thunder. For a moment he thought he had missed, but then he saw Hazel’s mare buckle and fall. She was thrown through the dirt like a ragdoll. “Poor girl,” said Germaine. He tucked his rifle into his saddle bag then rode down to collect and return her to the caravan.
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