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Dusk set in quickly as Amanda moved. The maze of trees only became more tangled by the distant sound of whimpering tha seemed to come from every direction. Branches snapped beneath her feet. Leaves and mud covered her shoes. She payed no attention to the wetness that the chill of evening had deposited on her warm skin. The cries grew louder, turning her stride in a new direction. Her feet became tender as they pounded the ground. The sticky burrs pierced her skin but caused her no pain. The sound that guided her waned as she ran. Tears welled in her eyes and her dizziness proved too much as she spun around crashing to the wet ground. She lay motionless as the cold, wet air permeated her once orange jumpsuit, now brown with sweat and mud. She clenched the ground and swept up palmfuls of rocks and grass, tightening her grasp until the sharp pebbles cut into her flesh. The wailing was now deafening. Her ears rang and stung. Her head pounded. She held her now bloodied hands to her ears. The crying in her head became a scream, drowning out the warning sirens and barking dogs in the distance. The pain numbed her body. Her world spun then vanished. She now saw only darkness. The remaining minute of her nightmare flooded into another, then another, ended finally by the cold tongues of bloodhounds lapping the salt and mud from her skin, the sharp sting of the needle piercing her vein, the pressure that escaped from her mouth, her ears, her nose.
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