Run.
Run.
Just keep running.
There's just no other words to put it.
In the distance, the road that stretches alongside crop fields of wheat is crawling with creepy turned.
There heads not entirely standing straight - upwards, are aimlesly roaming around the road with utter disfigured amenities on their body parts.
There clothes are even tethered looking like that of early medieval peasants, rough and sketchy dressed from up to bottom.
Wounds that do show on the torn fabric, reveal impaled or rather severe injury and damage. Some of them even have servered arms and legs. Both separately or altogether.
Although, they don't look quite imposing, they are still seen as a threat when provoked.
However, these types of turned aren't so hard-headed as the ones at the city. In simple terms, they are dumb.
But just keep mind so as not be fooled, as they can easily grab their victims at close quarters, surround their targets and a moments notice without even realising that it happened, they soon become a ruthlessly killing machine.
'What am I suppose to do?'
'I've been running for 17 minutes. How long should I go on?' John was in deep thought, his own mind fixated on his decisions. Should he stop? Or should he continue? Two of these questions combined frustrates him.
In John's own point of view, he is constantly side tracking the turned while maintaining a speed limit through the infest region.
It was like playing cat and mouse.
The more skilled the mouse was in it's ability to maneuver around it's environment, the difficultly it would strain the cat on catching it's prey. Ultimately, the outcome depends on whether or not the mouse can escape.
But because the cat is strong and fast, just like the turned, they have leverage over the mouse. On the other hand the mouse, which is John, is cunning and smart.
That is where the cat lacks. An attempt of unpredictability.
However as fate saw it, John is not a mouse nor are the turned a cat, but rather they belong to the same outcome. It's just that the turned are an explicit alternation of the humans. Where they improve at greater levels. Pain resistant. Strength enhancement. Greater stamina and speed.
Seeing them upclose is like wishing for a death wish. There interior rotting away against time. Skin darkening. Eyes swelling blood shot red, and the almost, unknown hunger to consume human flesh, belittles John.
John knew he would come to an end sooner or later. He's breath shaking. He's legs tiring almost completely. Why did he do this? He asks himself.
It was obvious - he was afraid.
Based on clear impulse and instinct, it is quite clear when faced with a split second choice it either meant life or death, which John hurriedly chose the option to run.
Just then John was interruption in his thoughts, his eyes closed before fully staring at the road ahead. Clearly not being attentive, a turned, was right at the midst of John, which he got shocked once again hearing the growling snare infront of him.
The reaction speed looked as if it was unnatural as John used all his energy, and flexed every muscles in his brain to act directly at the turned about a couple of centimetres within reach.
Just barely, the turned was avoided, twisting his legs at a full 180 to the left, John advertently escaped a treacherous obstacle; if not by luck.
'That was close!' he screamed in his head. The wary expression on him grew even worse, gritting his teeth tighter as he was still surrounded by a countless number of turned on all corners, not attacking directly and instead steadily walking lazily like a snail.
'Is this it.'
'Was there no exit at all?'
'Am I going...to....die?'
When these other questions did pop up in John's head, a gleamer of hope out of thin air immediately shone brightly.
Straight up ahead, a horde of terrifying turned are blocking the road, and although it might looks thad bad, it is what is on the other sides of the road that is of great importance - the field of crops ends, and what hat sprawls instead of fields is a huge forest.
Jackpot!
If it is possible, the forest could hinder the turned's movement, and maybe probably hide John in the lush green forest since these turned aren't so productive of their speed and mobility; hence he'll be in a predicted outcome rather than a mishap.
This was the plan that started to brew indescribably well thought off against all the odds.
And since John risked no second of time, he immediately leaned to the right and dived into the remaining fields that weren't so relevant; to which faded; and he vanished into the forest greenery like a rain droplet into a pond.
Now faced with an entire environment, the next job was the same as before: Survive and Don't Get killed.
~~~~~~
The forest brought different types of life - the whistle chirps of smaller birds lightly flapping their wings gently adopting a familiar tone on tree branches; other various insects crawling on the ground either below, above or even sticking to wooden trunks; and alongside bigger animals grazing around bushy grounds. Such as the wild boar. Such that the animals interactions is courageously calm within the environment.
The wild boar remains adequate, and familiarises it's environment for the sake of food. It finds food. Deep in the ground lies wild vegetables which the boar without hesitation gradually digs in wasting no time for - an appetising meal for the day.
And as the boar looked no further wandering, to the trees, and to the ground it seems as though all the other animals are performing their natural activity.
Beautiful wild flowers even Bathe gloriously coming from the sunlight filtering through the trees - it moves about like a butterfly dancing as though it's own petals carried brilliantly on stage.
It was in addition that the background complimented mostly visible, clear and vivid. The dark dirty like bark tree stands strangely isolated from other trees. The green vegetation evenly spread as well as every kinds of creature going by their own business.
It is such lively day that everything seemingly fits in.
Stomp
Stomp
Stomp
Sounds of Footsteps from an unknown source began to play as it was heard; wherever it may come from.
Unbeknownst to the yet and still silent calming forest, the footsteps only got louder and louder. The question is: Where was it coming at? The answer of the noises not known.
All that changed when the wild flowers that were about nature's usual course were suddenly replaced with a rather damaged, and squazzed transformation, it's own stem and petals torn apart lying in scattered pieces. What remained was the underneath lining pattern of a shoe, which predominantly occupied the flower's space indifferently.
A pitiful death possibly directed from a foot connected to a bodily figure before it vanished without a clue - the plants undeserved end quickly put in motion.
Vast and unconquered, the forest had an unfiltered aura altogether. Sometimes it is good, and sometimes it is bad. The forest houses many living things both plants and animals. But something that is not part of the natural environment, engages without a purpose in a mindless state. The turned.
In the heart of the forest, there are less turned walking around - they are indeed scattered. It is approximately three turneds seen very so often.
John had an excellent experience to this point. His rapid movements as strong as a wrecking ball dodging the turned in every outcome.
As John was running he thought, 'Now that I'm off the road, it's better if I look for a safe place to hang out for the time being.'
It might look like a terrible idea to settle in the forest for the time being, it is the only option as of right now. Besides all the running he is almost worn out to the brink of collapse, and a more good sign to do it as the sky was turning into a brown atmosphere, the sun setting to reach the horizon until it becomes nighttime.
Although John didn't know where to hide surrounded by countless trees and vegetation, one word came popped - UP! - in at the exact time as John was looking around, and soon to be engulfed in the night.
He looked up, he's eyes rolling up pointed at the big ; and bigger version of one of the trees (Yes, he was going to climb it). He stopped, watched his sides, and set foot on one and continued to climb the biggest tree he could possibly find.
At an experienced stand point, the John used he's limbs to deliver each a particular task he did so swiftly, grabbing, clenching, and pinning it on the branches and gaps inbetween to push him higher than ever.
Remembering one memory from the past, the thrilling feel of him climbing an enormous tree brings him nostalgic vibes. It seems as those climbing lessons are coming pretty handy, he thought.
During John's youth, he was forced by challenge - to which he lost. The punishment was getting a pie flattened on the loser's face. When it did happen, John was embarrassed. But it wasn't the end. It was by sheer luck that someone nearby stopped the commotion. If it did not stop, it could have gotten worse for him in the long-term.
The person that did help him out, had tasked John to complete one job - to practice rock climbing and other various forms of climbing lessons - that the person paid the total bill for his practice. It was also during his lessons he learnt a couple of survival tips and lessons whether it was carted in the practice or not. Maybe due to John's lack of skill was he unable to complete the challenge and dramatically failed. John only accepted it as a means to repay the strange individuals generosity.
Finally reached the top-mid section of the tree, John found a formidable branch capable to sustain his weight indefinitely.
He sat and leaned behind to rest his back.
Luckily for him, the tree had multiple branches sprouting from near angles to which gave John leverage to side along and not fall off the tree, snoozed in deep sleep.
Getting a good grip at the place he was in, he made do with what he had. The thing that could make him sleep was watching the the night sky illuminating with dazzling stars.
End of Chapter 4