run rabbit 01
The landscape grows more hilly the further out of town we drive. You doze, lulled by a band called Eagleowl I put on when I noticed you were getting sleepy. If it’s not actual folk lullabies it’s damn close.
One time when you rouse you glance over at me. The passenger seat seems to mould to your voluminous body like a warm, intimate hug. The vibration of the engine sets parts of you rumbling in turn, like maybe the engine hits the resonant frequency of your ileum or something. The effect is like receiving a light but very penetrating massage, and the result is that you are keenly aware how long it’s been since I cooked you pancakes this morning.
I’m feeling much better today. Interesting things happened with the maple syrup.
“What?” I ask, spotting you looking at me.
“Nothing,” you say, snuggling down with a contented sigh. “Just thinking about that packed lunch you must have made for me.”
“D’oh!” I smack myself on my forehead. “I knew I’d forgotten something!”
You don’t fall for it for one second. “Well then,” you say, smirking, “I had hoped to keep you around a little longer, but I guess this is it. You can pull over in the next lay-by.”
“Except,” I say, instead indicating to turn right up some random country lane, “I might have packed a surprise for you.”
Your smirk broadens into a pleased smile, so broad your eyes close and you snuggle tighter into your seat. “Maybe you can stick around, then. Is it something to do with this random road trip?”
My enigmatic smile is the answer. “Show me your fangs, sweetheart.”
You oblige. Your beaming smile is deadly.
The first three parking spots weren’t good enough, apparently. We left behind empty cars, their owners out walking or taking photographs. Instead we continue, always taking the path less traveled.
I pull up in the shade of a low cliff, most of the rock mossy with age and exposure but one patch clean and orange where erosion must have carved out a fresh gouge.
I park up, leaving the music playing, and get out to pop the boot. As you stretch your cramped limbs you hear me moving bags around in the boot. You’re about to open your door when I climb back in, turned to face you.
“Remember when you went to the park the other week and found that girl who’d eaten her fella?”
You sit a moment in silence, turning your head side to side. “Mmm… hint?”
“You crammed them both up your arse and I came and picked you up.”
“Oh! God, my memory for my meals is atrocious.”
I lean over and kiss you hard on the lips. “Never change, my Raven. Now…” I sit back, entering storytelling mode with my voice. “She had a mother. Another one like… a predator. And I think I met her.”
You bristle, suddenly on alert. I don’t know if you’re aware, but your hands form claws. “You were talking to another pred?”
I’m a little taken aback. I raise my hands to ward off your sudden anger and when I speak I sound half way between hurt and amused—a difficult trick. “Relax, Rey, there’s no one above you; I’m yours.”
You flash those fangs in a far less friendly setting, but seem willing to extend a little patience. “Go on…”
“Okay, so… I’d seen her before, she lives in the area, but the other day I saw she’d gained a huge amount of weight. Similar to you: maybe half-processed her meal, the fat not yet laid under her skin but her gut packed full. …” I fall silent beneath your darkening glare and stammer out reassurance. “Raven, you know you’re—”
“Get to the point.”
I take a deep breath and plough on. “Anyway, I think she was looking for you. Whoever took her daughter. She sat casually, like, but I could see her looking at everyone who passed, weighing them up.” I gulp, mouth dry. “I certainly felt it when she looked at me.”
You hiss in a breath between your teeth. “It was dangerous to be there, Andrew. You don’t know what she can do! Some can steal your—”
“—yep, thought about that, afterwards.” I’m a little grey in the face. “I greeted some friends with a dog and made myself inconspicuous. Couldn’t just run. But then something happened.”
“What happened?” I can tell you’re getting impatient with how your afternoon walk is going. Your anger is something I don’t see often, and it’s terrible to be its object.
“Long story short, her other daughter met up with her. Mother looked uncomfortable, like she shouldn’t have been there, so I know she wasn’t part of the… um, hunt. I thought: she’s on your territory, she’s looking for you, she’s an enemy. Right?”
You remain silent, mouth a thin line as your eyes drill into mine.
“So… Do you want to hurt her?”
“I want her not to be a threat. Especially to stupid prey who can’t leave predators alone.”
“I want that too.” You can smell my sweat. This clearly isn’t how I pictured today going.
“What did you do?”
I freeze. It takes a moment for speech to return. “Captured her daughter for you to hunt down and question.”
“And she’s here?!”
I close my eyes and screw up my face, the universal I’m-an-idiot expression. “No, I gave her a head start when I went to the boot, a while back. Raven I’m sorry—”
You hold up a finger an inch from my lips. “Shush, I’m thinking.” You seem in no hurry to move. I don’t know what crosses your mind: you look like you’re made of stone.
“Okay. Okay, we can talk about this later. Think how you can make it up to me. But for now, she doesn’t seem to be a threat. Maybe just human. Just prey.” You look out the windows and your face softens from its thunderstorm severity. “Definitely just prey. We’re away from people?”
“Miles and miles from human residence. Nothing much to see here for walkers.” I watch your face carefully. My gift may have been bone-headed, but I still want you to enjoy it. “Wanted her to run, give you a chance to track her down without interruption.”
You open the car door and step out onto gravel. Your trainers are light and strong. Your attire, simple red T and some tough trousers, won’t hinder you when you run. Now you understand why I was adamant you wear a sports bra.
You cock your chin and scent the air. Nothing, which means fast running downwind to try to catch her. And when you do… This is starting to feel like not such a bad idea after all.
“Stay alert,” you tell me as you scan the treeline. “If you get eaten by a teenager I will be fucking livid.”
“No fear!” I climb out of the car, too, the better to scan the horizon. “Yours is the only stomach I’ll see.”
“If you deserve it, after this.” You decide on a route that will give you the most information most quickly. Old skills, wild skills, come pouring back. “Maybe you’ve earned a death like I’m going to give this bitch.”
I don’t have anything to say to that, and anyway you’re gone. You’re fat but that doesn’t mean weak. You’ve trained hard for months, so you’re strong and quick.
As I watch you sprint towards the edge of the clearing I marvel at the way you move. Even with your belly moving in antiphase to your hips you move swiftly and efficiently, controlled as a lioness, swift as death. I wouldn’t be surprised if you howled.
Your quarry is somewhere ahead of you, in at most a mile of wooded terrain.. She can run, but if she hides your senses—the senses of a predator—will pick her out.
As you run you picture taking her down, holding her there, lowering your mouth to her breast. You practically pant with anticipation at the thought of blood and flesh between your teeth.