Something told Darren to turn back. Something primal, something that went deeper than just that gut feeling. Darren knew to listen to that feeling; it's the only reason he was still alive. He knew that it was best to listen to that feeling. Those whispers in your mind, that tell you not to do the incredibly stupid thing that you are considering. This is where, under normal circumstances, Darren would have grabbed Kali and just gone home, called it a night. It was the same feeling he got when he was being watched by a terrorist disguised as a regular civilian going about their day. The same feeling that told him when a firefight was about to break out. The same feeling that told him they were walking into an ambush.

The same feeling he felt the day....well. He turned [i]those[/i] thoughts around quickly. This is where Kali would normally come bouncing over to him, thrusting her big head in his hands, looking at him with those giant chocolate eyes. Her way of telling him everything would be okay, that all might not be right with the world, or with him--but right here, right now, he had someone to take care of and she had him. Kali was more than a pet, more than a friend. She was his [i]anchor.[/i] That dog saved his life, and he was not about to leave her here.

So mentally telling that feeling to fuck right off, Darren got himself together. He had only paused for about 45 seconds, but it felt like 10 minutes. He breathed in, let it out. And then he called again. "K A L I ! ! !" His normally booming, commanding voice broke with the fear he felt in his heart, the fear he did not want to admit to. He was about to call again, but there was that feeling...like he was being watched. The question was, who's eyes were on him? 

His hand instinctively went to his knife, though he kept it fastened in the sheath. His instincts began to take over. That primal fear, mixed with adrenaline, mixed with....joy? Some distant part of his mind, some distant part of [i]himself,[/i] a darker thread of himself that he refused to acknowledge, loved the thrill of battle. The wondering if he would live or die, the bloodlust of combat. All of this flooded back for the briefest of moments--and then he came to his senses. He wasn't on the battlefield. He wasn't slipping behind enemy lines, scouting ahead, gathering intel. He was in what he thought was an abandoned ghost town. And yet he knew full well that someone was nearby, someone was close.

"Jig's up, I know you are there," he stated flatly, narrowing his eyes into the growing darkness. "I've been through the game a hundred times, and I know how to play. Show yourself!"


((I owe you all an extra post this week!))