Addison's Arc

Chapter 3 of 6

Addison slipped from the hollow tree and moved fast. The deer track she had used as a decoy ran east, lined with snapping twigs and loud dry leaves she had scattered to sell the lie. That noisy path would hold the hunter maybe an hour. She turned the other way and ran. She found her spot in a small clearing ringed by stones and old logs. A cold fire pit sat at the center, half buried in ash. Good cover. Good sightlines. She knelt and began rigging a snare from cord and a bent sapling, fingers quick, breath steady. One trap by the log. A second across the gap between two trees. If he stepped where she wanted, she would have him. A branch cracked behind her. Wrong direction. Too close. Addison spun as the hunter came through the brush, faster than she had planned for. He had not followed the false trail at all. He had read her the moment she doubled back. His blade caught her shoulder before she could rise. She rolled, kicked the half-set snare loose, and scrambled away as he tore through her gear. Cord snapped. The cold fire pit scattered. Her pack split open across the dirt. She ran bleeding into the trees, leaving the ruined clearing behind. The ambush was dead. Her supplies were gone. And now the hunter knew exactly how she thought.